#Rolling Grow Tables Wholesaler | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

socialvinod · 8 months

Text

Eco-Friendly Entertaining: Where to Find the Best Bamboo Tray Wholesale Deals

Introduction Integrating sustainable practises into each phase of our lives has become crucial when sustainability is taking centre stage.

Are you looking for the best bamboo tray wholesale deals? You got lost in the maze of where to find it. Be amazed that you are in the right place to get proper input.

The deliberate decision to adopt ecologically friendly solutions is changing the way we approach everything, including entertaining, from our daily activities to large festivities.

Utilising bamboo trays when organising memorable events is a great way to promote sustainability.

They reduce our carbon footprint and have an effect while continuously radiating a natural elegance.

This blog covers the subject of environmentally responsible entertaining and reveals the best bamboo tray wholesale deals that support our values of protecting the environment.

The Brilliance of Bamboo: Why Choose Bamboo Trays? best bamboo tray wholesale deals The gift that keeps on giving is bamboo, a resource that grows quickly and is renewable.

It is an ecologically friendly alternative to traditional hardwoods due to its remarkable growth rate and minimal resource requirements.

In addition, bamboo has an excellent strength-to-weight ratio, making it perfect for producing strong and useful items like trays.

Here are a few great reasons to choose bamboo serving trays for eco-friendly entertaining:

Sustainability: Bamboo can quickly bounce back as long as its root framework is not damaged after harvest. Bamboo farming promotes healthy ecosystems as compared to traditional timber harvesting, which results in deforestation. Elegance: Bamboo trays are appealing because they artfully blend utility with organic beauty. They add a sense of earthy elegance to any event with their earthy charm and organic texture. Durability: Bamboo is just as durable as many hardwoods, so the trays can withstand the demands of serving and entertaining without losing their excellence. Versatility: Bamboo trays come in a wide range of sizes, styles, and designs, making them suitable for a range of events, including brunches, formal dinners, and outdoor picnics. Biodegradability: Bamboo trays are carefully returned to the earth at the end of their lifespan, having no effect on the environment. The Use of Eco-Friendly Entertainment Eco-friendly entertainment is more than simply a fad; it’s a way of being that takes gatherings to a greater plane of awareness.

Here are some creative ideas for using bamboo platters in your eco-friendly entertaining:

Panache-filled picnics: By utilising best bamboo tray wholesale to display fresh fruits, exquisite cheeses, and delicious finger foods, you can turn outdoor picnics into elegant occasions. The natural beauty of the trays blends with the tranquil surroundings to produce a memorable experience. Sustainable Sushi Soiree: Eco-Friendly Sushi Soiree organising a sushi evening? Presenting the rolls on bamboo trays will elevate the experience. The trays’ crisp lines and warm colours serve as the ideal foil for sushi’s brilliant colours. Brunch Bliss: Arrange pastries, muffins, and other delights on bamboo trays for a Sunday brunch with friends. The rustic appeal of the trays contrasted with the contemporary table settings offers a subtle touch of luxury. Cocktail Charisma: Bamboo trays can contain more than just food, according to cocktail charisma. At your next occasion, use these to showcase a variety of signature cocktails or mocktails. The trays’ flexibility goes beyond food, making them a crucial amusement item. Garden Get-Togethers: Bamboo trays seamlessly fit in with the surrounding environment, whether it’s a tea party or a garden luncheon. To create a magical ambiance, serve tea, sandwiches, and exquisite sweets on these platters. You can order Free Samples here. Finding the Best Bamboo Tray Wholesale Deals: Unlock a Special Sale Wonder best bamboo tray wholesale deals We can now clearly see the advantages of best bamboo tray wholesale and the attractiveness of eco-friendly entertaining, so let’s investigate where to find the best bamboo tray wholesale deals on these earth-friendly treasures:

Online shops and markets Online shopping sites provide a wide selection of best bamboo tray wholesale from different producers and craftspeople. There are wholesale sections on websites like Alibaba, Amazon, and Etsy where you can find reasonably priced bamboo tray solutions.

Trade shows and expos Manufacturers of bamboo trays frequently exhibit at business gatherings centred on eco-friendly living and sustainable practises. You can negotiate wholesale bargains and establish direct contact with manufacturers by going to such expos.

Local Craftspeople Many local craftspeople make distinctive bamboo trays that might not be seen at larger outlets. In addition to helping local businesses, going to craft fairs and markets lets you find unique items. Explore our startup journey and how we built a successful areca plate export business. Read the full article here.

B2B Wholesale Platforms A small number of platforms are focused on connecting buyers and suppliers. These websites, including Indiamart and Alibaba, can be very helpful when looking for bamboo trays in large quantities. Connect with us directly on WhatsApp for quick and personalized assistance. Click here to start the conversation!

Requests from Direct Manufacturers: Do some research on bamboo product makers, then get in touch with them. You can ask about wholesale costs and customization possibilities by opening a direct line of communication. See what our satisfied customers have to say! Explore our testimonials and discover why we’re their top choice. Click here to read more.

Conclusion Eco-friendly celebrations are an appreciation of the past, present, and future. You may commit to sustainability while maintaining flair and quality by making bamboo trays the centrepiece of your entertaining efforts.

These adaptable and beautiful trays not only improve the presentation of your culinary creations, but they also help to save the environment.

Remember that the best bamboo tray wholesale deals are just waiting to be found as you set out on your quest to throw events that have a good impact—offering both a practical tool and a reminder of your commitment to a sustainable lifestyle.

Click here to schedule your personalized demo meeting now.

Explore our curated selection of high-quality bamboo trays, perfect for eco-conscious hosts. Shop now at Arbhu Enterprises to elevate your entertaining with sustainable style. Grab the best deals while they last!

FAQ’s

Are bamboo trays dishwasher-safe? Many bamboo trays are dishwasher-safe, but it's best to refer to the manufacturer's guidelines to ensure longevity.

Can bamboo trays hold heavy items? Yes, bamboo trays are remarkably sturdy and can comfortably hold a variety of foods, from light appetisers to heavier dishes.

Are bamboo trays suitable for both indoor and outdoor use? Absolutely. Bamboo trays' durability makes them ideal for both indoor and outdoor entertaining.

How can I ensure the quality of wholesale bamboo trays? Request samples from potential suppliers before making bulk purchases to assess the quality, durability, and overall aesthetic.

Can I customise bamboo trays with my branding? Many manufacturers offer customization options, allowing you to add your logo or branding to the trays.

Read More: Click Here

0 notes

ganeshtbrc · 9 months

Text

Organic Bakery Products Market Overview 2023-2032 – Market Growth Analysis, Trends And Drivers

The Business Research Company’s Organic Bakery Products Global Market Report 2023 is the most detailed report available on the market, including broad forecast periods and multiple geographies. The report covers the historic period – 2010-2021, and the forecast period – 2023-2032. The Organic Bakery Products Global Market Report 2023 evaluates organic bakery products market size, growth rate, drivers, trends, and major companies.

The report provides a global perspective by covering 60 geographies and focusing on major economies in each region – Asia-Pacific, Western Europe, Eastern Europe, North America, South America, Middle East, Africa.

Request A Free Sample Of The Report (Includes Graphs And Tables):

The global organic bakery products market size will grow from $11 billion in 2022 to $11.57 billion in 2023 at a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 5.2%. The Russia-Ukraine war disrupted the chances of global economic recovery from the COVID-19 pandemic, at least in the short term. The war between these two countries has led to economic sanctions on multiple countries, a surge in commodity prices, and supply chain disruptions, causing inflation across goods and services and affecting many markets across the globe. The market size of global organic bakery products is expected to grow from $13.81 billion in 2027 at a CAGR of 4.5%.

The organic bakery products market segments in the report are:

1) By Product Type: Bread & Rolls, Savory Snacks, Cakes & Pastries, Cookies & Biscuits, Other Product Types

2) By Distribution Channel: Wholesalers/ Distributors/ Direct, Supermarkets/ Hypermarkets, Convenience Stores, Online Retailers, Other Retail Formats

3) By Category: Gluten-Free, Sugar-Free, Low-Calories

Get More Information On The Organic Bakery Products Market Report:

The table of contents in TBRC’s organic bakery products market report includes:

1. Executive Summary

2. Market Characteristics

3. Market Trends And Strategies

4. Impact Of COVID-19

5. Market Size And Growth

6. Segmentation

7. Regional And Country Analysis

27. Competitive Landscape And Company Profiles

28. Key Mergers And Acquisitions

29. Future Outlook and Potential Analysis

Learn About Us: The Business Research Company is a market intelligence firm that pioneers in market, company, and consumer research. TBRC’s specialist consultants are located globally and are experts in a wide range of industries that include healthcare, manufacturing, financial services, chemicals, and technology. The firm has offices located in the UK, the US, and India, along with a network of proficient researchers in 28 countries.

Asia: +91 88972 63534

Americas: +1 315 623 0293

Email: [email protected]

LinkedIn: https://in.linkedin.com/company/the-business-research-company

Twitter: https://twitter.com/tbrc_info

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TheBusinessResearchCompany

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC24_fI0rV8cR5DxlCpgmyFQ

Blog: https://blog.tbrc.info/

Healthcare Blog: https://healthcareresearchreports.com/

Global Market Model: https://www.thebusinessresearchcompany.com/global-market-model

#organic bakery products market #organic bakery products industry #global organic bakery products market

0 notes

expert-market-research · 2 years

Text

Latin America Bakery Products Market To Be Driven By Increasing Preference For Ethnic Foods In The Forecast Period Of 2022-2027

The new report by Expert Market Research titled, ‘Latin America Bakery Products Market Size, Share, Price, Trends, Growth, Report and Forecast 2022-2027’, gives an in-depth analysis of the Latin America bakery products market, assessing the market based on its segments like product types, distribution channels, and major regions. The report tracks the latest trends in the industry and studies their impact on the overall market. It also assesses the market dynamics, covering the key demand and price indicators, along with analyzing the market based on the SWOT and Porter’s Five Forces models.

Get a Free Sample Report with Table of Contents – https://www.expertmarketresearch.com/reports/latin-america-bakery-products-market/requestsample

The key highlights of the report include:

Market Overview (2017-2027)

• Forecast CAGR (2022-2027): 1.5% (Brazil Retail Confectionery Market)

The sales of bakery products are predicted to rise in the upcoming years as a result of factors such as a rising preference for ethnic foods, changes in the flavour, texture, and taste of bakery items, health consciousness, and growing demand for breakfast grains and cereals. The increased demand for bakery items such as pastries, fruit pies, donuts, and croissants is predicted to boost regional bakery sales. As a result, shops are responding to this need by producing organic baked goods, healthier breakfast foods, and ‘free-from’ products in order to maintain customer loyalty and drive market growth. An increase in out-of-home consumption, increased desire for fast and nutritious items, rapid urbanisation, and an increase in the working population, are all contributing to the market growth.

Industry Definition and Major Segments

Baking is the oldest cooking procedure and is used to make everyday products like bread, cakes, pastries, pies, cookies, and donuts. Bakery items are made with a variety of ingredients, including rice, water, and leavening agents, depending on the grain.

Read Full Report with Table of Contents – https://www.expertmarketresearch.com/reports/latin-america-bakery-products-market

By product type, the market is divided into:

• Biscuits

o Cookies o Cream Biscuits o Glucose Biscuits o Marie Biscuits o Milk Biscuits o Non-Salt Cracker Biscuits o Salt Cracker Biscuits o Others

• Bread and Rolls

o Artisanal Bakeries o In-Store Bakeries o Packaged

• Cakes and Pastries

o Artisanal Bakeries o In-Store Bakeries o Packaged

• Rusks

o Artisanal Bakeries o In-Store Bakeries o Packaged

• Others

On the basis of distribution channel, the market is segmented into:

• Supermarkets and Hypermarkets • Convenience Stores • Independent Retailers • Special Stores • Online • Others

The regional markets for the product include:

• Brazil • Argentina • Mexico

Market Trends

The market for bakery products in Latin America is estimated to rise as the market develops. The global coronavirus pandemic slowed market growth in the first half of 2020; however, the market started to recover by the end of the year due to the government efforts to ensure continued availability of adequate, safe, and nutritious food by ensuring the smooth operation of local, regional, and national wholesale markets and by providing technical and financial assistance to small and medium-sized agro-industrial farmers. Such policies are also expected to improve food items, which would help the industry to grow. Further, market players are investing heavily in research and development (R&D) operations in order to introduce organoleptically better products to the market.

Key Market Players

The major players in the market are Grupo Bimbo, Empresas Carozzi SA, Barry Callebaut AG, Arcor Group and Others. The report covers the market shares, capacities, plant turnarounds, expansions, investments and mergers and acquisitions, among other latest developments of these market players.

About Us

Expert Market Research is a leading business intelligence firm, providing custom and syndicated market reports along with consultancy services for our clients. We serve a wide client base ranging from Fortune 1000 companies to small and medium enterprises. Our reports cover over 100 industries across established and emerging markets researched by our skilled analysts who track the latest economic, demographic, trade and market data globally.

At Expert Market Research, we tailor our approach according to our clients’ needs and preferences, providing them with valuable, actionable and up-to-date insights into the market, thus, helping them realize their optimum growth potential. We offer market intelligence across a range of industry verticals which include Pharmaceuticals, Food and Beverage, Technology, Retail, Chemical and Materials, Energy and Mining, Packaging and Agriculture.

Media Contact

Company Name: Claight Corporation Contact Person: Mathew Williams, Business Consultant Email: [email protected] Toll Free Number: US +1-415-325-5166 | UK +44-702-402-5790 Address: 30 North Gould Street, Sheridan, WY 82801, USA City: Sheridan State: Wyoming Country: United States Website: www.expertmarketresearch.com

#Latin America Bakery Products Market #Latin America Bakery Products Market Size #Latin America Bakery Products Market Report

0 notes

peacefiresky-archive · 3 years

Text

hunting song

Eleski’s brows furrowed, her anger ebbing further upwards. “Everything falls to an arrow to the chest.” “Not everything,” Ma said. Her arms began to tremble - she would sometimes have fits of weakness, where she could barely hold herself upright. “No arrow can fell the Fanged Stag.”

the beastfolk company belongs to @mothermara !

Eleski Ahlealdottir hadn’t earned her name yet. She had just seen her seventeenth winter, and she thought she might starve before she had the chance.

Shor’s Stone was a mining town, making their meager profits from the iron inside the mountains; they were poor, they were tired, and they were hungry. Eleski started hunting when she was young, apprenticed under her father, running through the forests of the Rift with laughter in her lungs and joy in her heart. Pa said she would be a natural, and she was - she could track a stag from Ivarstead to Riften without losing its trail, always knowing just where to land her arrow that it would fall without suffering.

“Easy,” her father would whisper. “Focus your breathing. Keep your eyes on the stag.”

It was as easy as drawing breath for her, her heart beating to the notes of a song she knew since birth. Her mind felt clouded and cleared all at once. Her eyes focused, her muscles tensed - and her arrow found its mark.

“Blessed by Kyne!�� Her father cheered in his rolling accent, clapping her back when they came into the village. The doe was taken from around her shoulders, and Pa’s voice was like thunder congratulating her. The miners ate well that night, and Eleski crawled into her furs with a full stomach and a new deer-hide cloak. She hovered on the edge of sleep, imaginary scenarios drifting through her mind.

What if I find a dragon, she thought, her mind conjuring up images of the glorious beasts. What if I kill a dragon? Can you eat dragons? Can you ride them?

Just as she was about to drift off, there was a voice - on instinct, she laid still, quiet, silent, as her mother - when had Ma came to her side of the house? -whispered something she couldn’t understand, caressing her forehead. She traced the mark of the Eldergleam and Eleski fought back a flinch. It felt wrong when Ma did it. She couldn't explain why. “Child of the chase,” she sighed wistfully, before drawing away.

They were prosperous, her and Pa working jointly to bring in enough food to keep them fed through the winter. They never took in excess - Ma had warned her of a deer, with antlers crafted by Kyne and teeth sharpened by the daedra, who came in the night to steal away those who took more than they needed.

She had been terrified, and her Pa was amused, but compliant. “It’s about respect,” he told her when she was curled into her furs, clutching his hunting dagger in case the deer decided to take her away. “Respect the creatures you hunt, respect the woods you stalk, respect the men and women you work to feed, and Kyne will protect you.”

It was a lesson she learned easily. Every other day, she would disappear into the woods, listening to the steady music of her heart, and return with rabbits and deer and, if she was lucky, a wild pig, wolf, or moose.

That was all before Helmar Thaneson.

His father was some noble from Solitude, coming to Shor’s Stone after a scandal involving ties with the Bear of Windhelm; despite living among the miners and poor folk, he managed to afford his son every entitlement, every privilege. Helmar got away with anything he wished.

He was huge, and terrifying, and Eleski’s best friend, though not by choice. He would hurt her if she tried to leave him - he had said as much, and proved it through the scars on her face. He was touched in the head by Uncle Sheo - he was strong, sure, and a damn good brawler, but messy, uncaring, stupid. He chased the foxes and rabbits around the village and when he caught them - and he always caught them -, he’d throw them into the boiling stew, still alive and squealing. He thought it was funny to pounce on her like a wild cat, leaving her features marred and slashed by ribbons of red.

He hunted with her, too. Not properly; there was no careful footing, no learning the land, what creatures were mature and which were too young to give good meat. He left that to Eleski. That was how he grew so attached to her- they would venture off together into the thick woods, Eleski wincing at the sound of his heavy footfalls as he marched carelessly through the Rift. If she strained her ears, she could hear the wood’s creatures fleeing through the trees.

He was also bloodthirsty. She had watched, helpless, as he used his warhammer to savagely crush a stag’s ribs; all the while, he just laughed as it died, slowly and painfully. The meat was unusable, and the poor creature suffered a cruel death. Helmar's eyes were bright with mirth and joy - and that laugh set frost in her heart. Eleski didn’t like to watch her marks suffer. It was cruel - they were living creatures, just as much as she and Helmar. When she objected, he marched right up to her and cracked her cheek, the sound like wood splitting. The bruise had yet to heal after three weeks, and there was still a divet in her cheek where the bone had cracked. It ached in the winter.

The rabbits and foxes stopped appearing in the village’s outskirts. The deer were slaughtered wholesale, and so stopped grazing in the woods nearby. The wolves, starving, followed their prey; all that was left were the rats and vermin. Even the skeevers were skinny and disease ridden, barely enough meat to cook into a cabbage stew, but that was only when it didn’t fester moments after harvesting.

“We’re cursed,” she told Ma. “We’re cursed and it’s Helmar’s fault.”

“You seem so certain,” her mother replied, voice light and airy. Pa always said that he mistook Ma for a wisp mother when they first met; her hair was blonde, nearly white, her skin a luminescent alabaster, unmarred by freckles or moles. Even her eyes were ethereal, bluer than the glaciers to the north. Eleski took more after her father - tawny skin, thick, honey-gold hair, dotted by freckles and moles and crinkled, laughing eyes.

“I am.” Eleski set her bow down, slamming the door shut and roughly tugging her braids loose. She didn’t bother combing them out. “He killed the fawns before they could grow and mate. He ate through our crops like a starved rabbit.” She sat at the wooden bench, crossing her arms. Her father was tending to the hearth, the ghost of a smile on his lips. His amusement only angered her further. “He and his pa grow fat with fortune and food and the rest of us starve!”

Pa clicked his tongue, stirring a pot of boiling water. A chopped, skinny carrot and wilted cabbage leaf floated lazily within it. “And just what are you going to do about it?”

“I’ll kill him myself,” she replied. She knew she might just be mad enough to do it.

“Don’t be silly,” Ma hummed. “You’re not a killer.”

“I’ve killed plenty!” Eleski stood from her seat, eyes flaring. So fierce for one so young; wolf-blooded, Pa always said. “I’m a hunter! I’ve killed more than anyone in this village!”

“Don’t be so naive.” Pa tapped the wooden spoon against the pot, and set about pouring the soup into bowls.

Ma just laughed, the sound hollow and empty, shaking her head. “No, she may be right. But it would do her well to remember there’s a difference between killing a deer and killing a person.”

Eleski’s brows furrowed, her anger ebbing further upwards. “Everything falls to an arrow to the chest.”

“Not everything,” Ma said. Her arms began to tremble - she would sometimes have fits of weakness, where she could barely hold herself upright. “No arrow can fell the Fanged Stag.”

Pa raised his brow, and Eleski paused. Ma’s eyes stared dispassionately towards her, and slowly, she lowered herself to sit back on the wooden bench. Pa placed a bowl in front of Ma, then Eleski, and then took a seat for himself.

Ma raised the bowl to her lips, drinking deeply as though it was something holy, and sighed longingly as she placed it back onto the table. Her hands were shaky as she flattened her palms on the table. “He always collects the Hunter’s debts. May he take that blasted child’s heart and use it to breathe life back into these woods.”

Eleski’s ma looked like a woman out of a fairytale, and acted like it too, always reminding Eleski and Pa of old superstitions to be mindful of, murmuring vague prophecies and curses. Pa’s eyes, bark-brown and softened by age, met Eleski’s, sharp and vengeful. They never quite understood. Eleski wasn’t sure they ever would.

They didn’t speak until late that night, when her father traced the mark of the Eldergleam on her forehead - a nighttime blessing, his thumb connecting the leaves to the trunk. Eleski sighed and flopped onto her cot, and prayed that sleep would ease the pains of her stomach.

Her rest was fitful, as it always was. She dreamed of chasing, of being chased, her legs aching as the Game reversed; she dreamed of her frost-bitten hands warmed by blood, her mother’s, her father’s, Helmar’s; she dreamed of a red moon, hung in the sky like a blood boil ready to be lanced -

She woke to the sound of a scream.

She jolted upwards, her heart racing; she had a nightmare, but couldn’t recall of what - there was every chance that the scream was just an echo of her mind’s terrors, she told herself. And if it wasn’t that, it was a fox - she used to bolt out of the house every week, convinced some poor woman was being slaughtered, only to find Shor’s little fox laughing gleefully, satisfied at his prank.

The scream echoed again. It was deep, guttural; too human, too pained to be a fox’s cry. She pushed herself from her bed, flung the doe-skin cloak around her shoulders, pulled on her leather-soled shoes, and rushed towards the door, grabbing her father’s hunting dagger from its place by the hearth as she went. She threw open the door, the cold air stinging her face and eyes, before she gasped -

Her mother, ethereal and half-present in the moonlight, stood facing her. Her eyes, silvery blue and unblinking, bore into hers. She looked like a ghost, a fae, a wisp floating in the fields. She looked anything but mortal.

“The Stag always repays the Hunter’s debts,” she echoed, her voice like a bell.

Eleski tried to calm her racing heart. “Ma?”

“He comes and He hunts and He chases. He is His Father’s Son, though he wishes it not so.”

“Ma, you need to go inside.”

“He’s calling for you,” Ma sing-songed, pausing just long enough for that terrible screech to echo, bouncing through the village. “Can’t you hear him? You should go, watch the hunt; partake, if you want. I would. Oh, how I would.”

Eleski stared at her mother and saw a stranger. Her mother stared back, without warmth, without love - her eyes were empty.

“Go inside,” Eleski said, before turning towards the woods and running.

It was harder to navigate in the night, the only light being the dappled moonbeams filtered through leaves. Her feet thumped steadily below her, twigs snapping softly in time with her heartbeat. Tha-thump, tha-thump, her blood sang. A tree trunk in the shape of a bear marked the one-mile mark. An eagle’s nest marked the second. The thickening of the tree trunks marked the third. She ran, following those shrill wails, ears straining - before hands grabbed her from behind.

She stifled a scream as she was pushed against a tree trunk, a meaty hand muffling her - she slashed uselessly at it with her dagger, before the figure suddenly backed away. It left something on her face, some kind of liquid, warm and smelling of copper.

“Eles?” The voice was shaky, deep and familiar.

“...Helmar?” She hissed, panting, wiping away the liquid on her face with her sleeve, still brandishing the dagger threateningly. “What in Oblivion are you doing out here?”

“Running,” he whispered. She could see him trembling, even in the low light. “I’m running.”

“Running from what?”

“From it-” He tried to take a step forward, his knee buckling from under him. He groaned as he fell, reaching out to her - though she only took a step away from him, staring as he laid there, kneeling.

“Help me,” he whimpered. “Please. Please, I don’t wanna die.”

Her eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness, and she could see the wound. Her first thought, superstitious and silly, was the Stag.

Don’t be so naive. “What did this?” She asked, looking down at him. Some great beast had taken a chunk out of Helmar's leg. She could see the bone, and it called to her. Her heartbeat slowed to a steady rhythm. She heard music.

“I - I don’t know, I didn’t see-”

“It hurts, doesn’t it?”

The boy faltered, his breath hitching. Eleski’s voice had chilled from a fluttering panic to a strange sort of calm. “Y-Yes,” he muttered.

“I bet it does.” Her chest was still heaving, her voice breathy. “You’ll never walk again, not with that wound.”

“I - I -” Helmar stuttered uselessly. She had leaned forward, her body moving on its own accord; he fell backwards, palms pressing against the dirt as he tried in vain to scramble away. Eleski felt a rush of power, looming over him. Quietly, she kneeled beside him.

The forest was silent, save for his heaving breath, and the wind through trees.

“You’re - you’re nice, Eles,” He pleaded, smiling fearfully. “You’re nice. You can - can help me walk again, help me - help -”

“It’s nice to put animals out of their pain,” she hummed, blood pounding through her ears as she raised the dagger.

“No,” he sobbed, voice cracking, smile fading. “No, please, I’m sorry -”

She raised it higher, her free hand going to clutch at the hilt. The music soared joyfully.

“Eles - Eles, please -”

The sound of a branch snapping broke her out of her torpor, the melody broken; her head snapped towards the sound.

Her eyes searched in the darkness, but - nothing. Nothing, save for the flash of a stag’s antlers. She glanced down to the sobbing boy beside her, and shakily lowered her dagger.

“Let this be a lesson,” she whispered, voice not entirely her own.

She pushed herself to her feet, glancing back to the source of the sound. There, barely visible in the moonlight, she could just make out the shape of a huge deer, his antlers stretched above him like the branches of the Eldergleam; as its gleaming eyes bore into hers, she clutched her dagger so tight the hilt made an indent in her palm.

It could feed us for weeks, she thought. She felt herself shake with the force of the thought, images of her parents well-fed, her hands bloody, flashing through her mind. The beginnings of a melody sounded in her ears. That meat could save us. Hunt it. Hunt it. Hunt-

She took a step backwards, not breaking its gaze. It stepped forward in time, hooves leaving no tracks. She paused, before shakily lowering her head.

It stared, and lowered its head - it seemed to nod, and so she turned and she ran. She pretended not to hear the sound of bones cracking under hooves, of flesh squelching between teeth. She pretended not to hear Helmar’s wailing screams, broken cries for mercy, and bitter curses. As she bolted further away, lungs burning from the exertion, she pretended not to hear as Helmar Thaneson’s dying screeches came to a sudden stop.

She broke from the treeline, dried blood still caking the side of her face. Ma wasn’t on the porch; in fact, it was as if no one in the village was awake. She came to a stumbling stop, chest aching as she struggled for air. She rested her hands on her knees as she doubled over, and emptied the cabbage-carrot soup by the porch of her home.

***

When Eleski Kyne-Blood, who had just passed eighteen winters, returned to the village, she was dragging a moose on a skiff behind her. It had taken time, but nature’s blessing returned to Shor’s Stone - birds sang in the trees, hearty meals of venison and goat and boar were had every night, and the rabbits and foxes played at the village’s edge.

Her eyes looked forward - her father was there, as he always was when she went off on her own, awaiting her return. He seemed to be talking to a group of adventurers - that’s what she assumed, at least. A moss-skinned Orc in heavy armor, a scaled Argonian in mage’s clothes, a green-eyed Khajiit in robes, a wood elf in light armor, a Nord in an iron cuirass, a gold elf in master’s robes - they were outsiders, and Pa seemed happy enough talking with them. He loved outsiders.

His amber eyes lit like a wildfire when they fell on her and her prize. “Just in time,” he called. Eleski squinted against the sun, waving in response as she grew closer. “We’ll be having guests tonight!”

Her arms ached from dragging the damned moose as she finished her approach - a fact the Orc woman seemed to notice. She gave a tusk-toothed smile, and Eleski went a bit red despite herself. The Orc gestured to the skiff. “Here, let me get that for you.”

“Ah, uh - thanks.” Eleski moved so she could take hold of it. She watched as the woman dragged it with ease to the center of the village, until her father clapped her on the back.

He cleared his throat, and with a dramatic flare that made him seem much younger, he declared, “Meet the Beastfolk Company! These fine mercenaries took care of a few bandits who’d planned a raid. Stopped them before they could get to the village.”

Eleski again looked over the Company. They were raggedy, a bit bruised, and covered in dirt and mud. She smiled. “Wind be at your back,” she greeted. “You’ll fit in just fine.”

“We’re not planning on staying long,” said the elf. “Ah - I am Syrabane. We ask for nothing but a warm meal and a place to sleep.”

“And a bath,” said the Argonian towards the elf. They turned towards Eleski. “Hi. I’m Weedum. Praise be to Todd.”

“Oh, are we doing introductions?” The Khajiit’s ears perked up, their tale lashing excitedly behind them. “I’m Aldra!”

“I’m Maces,” said the Nord. He seemed a bit quiet.

The wood elf was silent until Weedum poked his side. “Rindolin,” he said simply.

“Badbr!” called the Orc woman, armor clanking as she jogged over to join them. She flashed that same toothy grin. “Good to meet you.”

“Eleski,” she responded. They were a motley crew, and yet something about them struck her as warm. Welcoming. “We’ve a few bedrolls to spare, and I’m guessin’ my father already opened our hearth to you.”

Pa beamed.

“Make yourselves at home,” she continued, nodding to the group. “We’ll get some stew started.”

They made their way around the village, chattering among themselves. Badbr and Syrabane went first, with Rindolin following them, and Weedum following him. Aldra spared a glance towards Maces, before disappearing into the hut. Soon, all that was left was Pa, Eleski, and Maces-the-Nord.

There was a short silence, before one spoke. “There’s not normally just one hunter in a village,” Maces said, staring off into the woods. “It’s safer in groups. What happened to the others?”

Pa answered before she could. “I’m gettin’ too old. We’re a small enough village - we make do with just the one.” They didn’t talk about what happened to Helmar. No one really knew. Maces hummed absentmindedly, eyes still trained on the forest, and Eleski got the feeling he knew that wasn’t the whole truth.

“You should get inside,” Eleski said. “Sundown’s approaching.”

Maces glanced towards her, raising a brow. “You don’t stay out past sundown?”

“Strange creatures lurk in those woods.”

He laughed quietly, eyes glinting, and Eleski went to bed that night after endless stories with a full stomach, a warm cloak, and a secret shared.

#god. god this took me forever #eleski kyne-blood #friend's ocs #i'm tired of looking at it so hERE #/lh

7 notes · View notes

856764864568 · 3 years

Text

I was standing a dozen paces from her

I was standing a dozen paces from her. It’s awfully curious, Ivan Petrovitch; it really, impressed me. If you would like to reserve a place on a free pick up service then you should complete and return the booking form online. The passionate philanthropist is very active in supporting Carousel of Hope, which benefits the Children's Diabetes Foundation and Barbara Davis Center for Childhood Diabetes, and Larry Ruvo's "Keep Memory Alive," committed to improving the lives of patients and their families facing the challenges of brain disorders. No maester would ever write down an account for one of the Reader’s beloved books. The designer showed the wide leg cropped style in mauve tweed and classic denim, proving this trouser style is anything but over. Age: Girls in 1 6th grade and parents. Upon launching, web content will flow across both screens. But when a knight died, his shield was taken down, that it might go with him to puma red bull racing evo cat ii his pyre or his tomb, and over the years and centuries fewer and fewer knights had taken the black. Remember the beautiful haibike e mtb 2020 climax scene of the popular Bollywood flick, 'Wake Up Sid,' wherein Aisha and Sid finally confess their love for each other in this mind blowing location, with the falling rain in the backdrop.. Monell Download video. They didn't see it as PG.". This contributes positively to their brain development.. Davis said he told Gilmartin they should wake Piazza up, call for an ambulance and get him to the hospital. If it should be our lot, as I trust it will be, to acquire the country of Texas, their price will rise again.”. Additionally, the soles with strong grip of the Nike SB shoes make the players have more foot interaction with the skate board. "Morgan (Thompson) and Rachel (Kirby) are hitting shots. And uh he told me he was gonna uh hurt me, if I tried to fight him."The taped confession also played for jurors at trial included more details of the crime, including the type of weapons used. It had still been summer then; Robert sat the Iron Throne, Balon brooded on the Seastone Chair, and the Seven Kingdoms were at peace. When permitted, some of our negroes preached with great fluency. It is essentially a battery operated neti pot, but Mens ADIDAS ORIGINALS rather than water draining out of your nose and into a sink somewhere, donna di porto pim una storia riassunto it goes from one container in the machine into another. When she took the paper from the table she had upset the ink over it. You can buy them in bulk too as some of the websites offer discounts on wholesale purchases. The disease caused him to lose the bone out of his nose, and his jaw-bone, also. He thought he knew.. But what’s the good of talking . Please tell the constable to go on with the sale of John’s property; and, when the money is made, I will send on an order to you for it. America) Lvl 1 5 Audio Comp patchRatingRelated DownloadsDownloadsRosetta Stone 3.4.5 Inc. The prince had gone away furious, and no tea had been offered to him, and of course it was all her young lady’s fault. He had done bad things, terrible things. The Falcons longpoles have also been a scoring threat this season. The woman rode double with Rory, her son with Tom Barleycorn, the old men with Horse and Satin. But it most certainly is a gem. Owner said the service aprons might look slightly dominating, but they offer "a good way to start a conversation about the restaurant," he said. That will be wet as well. Director: Matthew Brown. Exemplary teachers integrate math, reading, writing, adidas eqt rose gold science and social studies around stimulating one week themes designed for each grade level. It's also attractive, in such colors as vibrant blue or with preppy stripes on its band. “Two sisters, two daughters, biciclete rusesti vechi one wife, and my old mother,” the singer claimed, though not one looked like him. And wouldn't it be great if your nike air jordan 1 los angeles footwear could be your fitness coach? LeChal footwear has something similar in mind. His host is north of you, his father’s to the south, but Lord Ramsay is prepared to be merciful if you yield Moat Cailin to him before the sun goes down.” He drew out the letter that they’d given him and tossed it on the table before the drinkers.. Rowand was in feeble health, and nervous; the slave Maria was weak and emaciated in appearance; sudden death of such a person, in such a state, from apoplexy or action of nervous system, not unlikely; her sudden death would not imply violence; had prescribed asaf?tida for Mrs. Blood was good. So clearly the ABIT 9800XT has much better AA quality in this game.. "We have been very deliberate in making the decision to arm our Tennessee National Guard," said Haston. “Listen, Natasha, you keep asking questions as though you were in fun. The widow took a sip, rolled the wine round her mouth, swallowed. All the while Abel’s women waited, their faces shadowed by their cowls. Was committed to the Jail of Shelby county, on the 28th ult., a negro boy, who says his name is JOHN W. I'm not sure what air jordan aj4 exactly the problem was, because this feature is kind of a black box. “A man grows weary of having no lovers but his fingers.” Selhorys may be where whores go. During her time off, Erin enjoys discovering new holiday destinations, shopping and spending time with family and friends.. My head was going round and aching more and more. He says …”. My write up of Pauline's death actually includes an image of the death certificate. While it is debatable why this might be, it probably rests on the remote nature of the park, being further from the nearest large cities than others. Don't forget to put on you hand gloves. On Sunday, people's undying patriotism shone throughout the country with spontaneous singings of the national anthem and tributes to those who died on Sept. "We got right next to the stage because that's where the credentialed photographers are. If you can't lift your monstrous suitcase out of the car, you'll probably have trouble carrying it up three flights of stairs to your room in the Quads or to your room on the 13th floor of the Towers. I think there's much for CMOs in any industry to learn from a real, in depth analysis of how music business brands have entered the digital age. Old oneil legjobb kutyaruha esőkabát mellény Mill Center extends their warmest appreciation to Luis and Patti Perez, owners of Elmer's Restaurant in Corvallis, for their commitment to local children and families. “Almost from the first time I met him I had an overwhelming desire that he should be mine, mine at once, and that he should not look at anyone, should not know anyone but me. I would have no need of Xaro or his ships. The kind of murder which was most frequent among masters or overseers was guarded against by another section of the same act,—how adequately the reader will judge for himself, from the following quotation:.. It is currently in the process of raising a further 2 million from a new crowdfunding campaign, having previously built three generations of prototypes using capital from European innovation grants..

2 notes · View notes

noredinktech · 3 years

Text

☄️ Pufferfish, please scale the site!

We created Team Pufferfish about a year ago with a specific goal: to avert the MySQL apocalypse! The MySQL apocalypse would occur when so many students would work on quizzes simultaneously that even the largest MySQL database AWS has on offer would not be able to cope with the load, bringing the site to a halt.

A little over a year ago, we forecasted our growth and load-tested MySQL to find out how much wiggle room we had. In the worst case (because we dislike apocalypses), or in the best case (because we like growing), we would have about a year’s time. This meant we needed to get going!

Looking back on our work now, the most important lesson we learned was the importance of timely and precise feedback at every step of the way. At times we built short-lived tooling and process to support a particular step forward. This made us so much faster in the long run.

🏔 Climbing the Legacy Code Mountain

Clear from the start, Team Pufferfish would need to make some pretty fundamental changes to the Quiz Engine, the component responsible for most of the MySQL load. Somehow the Quiz Engine would need to significantly reduce its load on MySQL.

Most of NoRedInk runs on a Rails monolith, including the Quiz Engine. The Quiz Engine is big! It’s got lots of features! It supports our teachers & students to do lots of great work together! Yay!

But the Quiz Engine has some problems, too. A mix of complexity and performance-sensitivity has made engineers afraid to touch it. Previous attempts at big structural change in the Quiz Engine failed and had to be rolled back. If Pufferfish was going make significant structural changes, we would need to ensure our ability to be productive in the Quiz Engine codebase. Thinking we could just do it without a new approach would be foolhardy.

⚡ The Vengeful God of Tests

We have mixed feelings about our test suite. It’s nice that it covers a lot of code. Less nice is that we don’t really know what each test is intended to check. These tests have evolved into complex bits of code by themselves with a lot of supporting logic, and in many cases, tight coupling to the implementation. Diving deep into some of these tests has uncovered tests no longer covering any production logic at all. The test suite is large and we didn’t have time to dive deep into each test, but we were also reluctant to delete test cases without being sure they weren’t adding value.

Our relationship with the Quiz Engine test suite was and still is a bit like one might have with an angry Greek god. We’re continuously investing effort to keep it happy (i.e. green), but we don’t always understand what we’re doing or why. Please don’t spoil our harvest and protect us from (production) fires, oh mighty RSpec!

The ultimate goal wasn’t to change Quiz Engine functionality, but rather to reduce its load on MySQL. This is the perfect scenario for tests to help us! The test suite we want is:

fast

comprehensive, and

not dependent on implementation

includes performance testing

Unfortunately, that’s not the hand we were given:

The suite takes about 30 minutes to run in CI and even longer locally.

Our QA team finds bugs that sneaked past CI in PRs with Quiz Engine changes relatively frequently.

Many tests ensure that specific queries are performed in a specific order. Considering we might replace MySQL wholesale, these tests provide little value.

And because a lot of Quiz Engine code is extremely performance-sensitive, there’s an increased risk of performance regressions only surfacing with real production load.

Fighting with our tests meant that even small changes would take hours to verify in tests, and then, because of unforeseen regressions not covered by the tests, take multiple attempts to fix, resulting in multiple-day roll-outs for small changes.

Our clock is ticking! We needed to iterate faster than that if we were going to avert the apocalypse.

🐶 I have no idea what I’m doing 🧪

Reading complicated legacy Rails code often raises questions that take surprising amounts of effort to answer.

Is this method dead code? If not, who is calling this?

Are we ever entering this conditional? When?

Is this function talking to the database?

Is this function intentionally talking to the database?

Is this function only reading from the database or also writing to it?

It isn’t even clear what code was running. There are a few features of Ruby (and Rails) which optimize for writing code over reading it. We did our best to unwrap this type of code:

Rails provides devs the ability to wrap functionality in hooks. before_ and after_ hooks let devs write setup and tear-down code once, then forget it. However, the existence of these hooks means calling a method might also evaluate code defined in a different file, and you won’t know about it unless you explicitly look for it. Hard to read!

Complicating things further is Ruby’s dynamic dispatch based on subclassing and polymorphic associations. Which load_students am I calling? The one for Quiz or the one for Practice? They each implement the Assignment interface but have pretty different behavior! And: they each have their own set of hooks🤦. Maybe it’s something completely different!

And then there’s ActiveRecord. ActiveRecord makes it easy to write queries — a little too easy. It doesn’t make it easy to know where queries are happening. It’s ergonomic that we can tell ActiveRecord what we need, and let it figure how to fetch the data. It’s less nice when you’re trying to find out where in the code your queries are happening and the answer to that question is, “absolutely anywhere”. We want to know exactly what queries are happening on these code paths. ActiveRecord doesn’t help.

🧵 A rich history

A final factor that makes working in Quiz Engine code daunting is the sheer size of the beast. The Quiz Engine has grown organically over many years, so there’s a lot of functionality to be aware of.

Because the Quiz Engine itself has been hard to change for a while, APIs defined between bits of Quiz Engine code often haven’t evolved to match our latest understanding. This means understanding the Quiz Engine code requires not just understanding what it does today, but also how we thought about it in the past, and what (partial) attempts were made to change it. This increases the sum of Quiz Engine knowledge even further.

For example, we might try to refactor a bit of code, leading to tests failing. But is this conditional branch ever reached in production? 🤷

Enough complaining. What did we do about it?

We knew this was going to be a huge project, and huge projects, in the best case, are shipped late, and in the average case don’t ever ship. The only way we were going to have confidence that our work would ever see the light of day was by doing the riskiest, hardest, scariest stuff first. That way, if one approach wasn’t going to work, we would find out about it sooner and could try something new before we’d over-invested in a direction.

So: where is the risk? What’s the scariest problem we have to solve? History dictates: The more we change the legacy system, the more likely we’re going to cause regressions.

So our first task: cut away the part of the Quiz Engine that performs database queries and port this logic to a separate service. Henceforth when Rails needs to read or change Quiz Engine data, it will talk to the new service instead of going to the database directly.

Once the legacy-code risk has been minimized, we would be able to focus on the (still challenging) task of changing where we store Quiz Engine data from single-database MySQL to something horizontally scalable.

⛏️ Phase 1: Extracting queries from Rails

🔪 Finding out where to cut

Before extracting Quiz Engine MySQL queries from our Rails service, we first needed to know where those queries were being made. As we discussed above this wasn’t obvious from reading the code.

To find the MySQL queries themself, we built some tooling: we monkey-patched ActiveRecord to warn whenever an unknown read or write was made against one of the tables containing Quiz Engine data. We ran our monkey-patched code first in CI and later in production, letting the warnings tell us where those queries were happening. Using this information we decorated our code by marking all the reads and writes. Once code was decorated, it would no longer emit warnings. As soon as all the writes & reads were decorated, we changed our monkey-patch to not just warn but fail when making a query against one of those tables, to ensure we wouldn’t accidentally introduce new queries touching Quiz Engine data.

🚛 Offloading logic: Our first approach

Now we knew where to cut, we decided our place of greatest risk was moving a single MySQL query out of our rails app. If we could move a single query, we could move all of them. There was one rub: if we did move all queries to our new app, we would add a lot of network latency. because of the number of round trips needed for a single request. Now we have a constraint: Move a single query into a new service, but with very little latency.

How did we reduce latency?

Get rid of network latency by getting rid of the network — we hosted the service in the same hardware as our Rails app.

Get rid of protocol latency by using a dead-simple protocol: socket communication.

We ended up building a socket server in Haskell that took data requests from Rails, and transformed them into a series of MySQL queries, which rails would use to fetch the data itself.

🛸 Leaving the Mothership: Fewer Round Trips

Although co-locating our service with rails got us off the ground, it required significant duct tape. We had invested a lot of work building nice deployment systems for HTTP services and we didn’t want to re-invent that tooling for socket-based side-car apps. The thing that was preventing the migration was having too many round-trip requests to the Rails app. How could we reduce the number of round trips?

As we moved MySQL query generation to our new service, we started to see this pattern in our routes:

MySQL Read some data ┐ Ruby Do some processing │ candidate 1 for MySQL Read some more data ┘ extraction Ruby More processing MySQL Write some data ┐ Ruby Processing again! │ candidate 2 for MySQL Write more data ┘ extraction

To reduce latency, we’d have to bundle reads and writes: In addition to porting reads & writes to the new service, we’d have to port the ruby logic between reads and writes, which would be a lot of work.

What if instead, we could change the order of operations and make it look like this?

MySQL Read some data ┐ candidate 1 for MySQL Read some more data ┘ extraction Ruby Do some processing Ruby More processing Ruby Processing again! MySQL Write some data ┐ candidate 2 for MySQL Write more data ┘ extraction

Then we’d be able to extract batches of queries to Haskell and leave the logic behind in Rails.

One concern we had with changing the order of operations like this was the possibility of a request handler first writing some data to the database, then reading it back again later. Changing the order of read and write queries would result in such code failing. However, since we now had a complete and accurate picture of all the queries the Rails code was making, we knew (luckily!) we didn’t need to worry about this.

Another concern was the risk of a large refactor like this resulting in regressions causing long feedback cycles and breaking the Quiz Engine. To avoid this we tried to keep our refactors as dumb as possible: Specifically: we mostly did a lot of inlining. We would start with something like this

class QuizzesControllller 9000 :super_saiyan else load_sub_syan_fun_type # TODO: inline me end end end end

These are refactors with a relatively small chance of changing behavior or causing regressions.

Once the query was at the top level of the code it became clear when we needed data, and that understanding allowed us to push those queries to happen first.

e.g. from above, we could easily push the previously obscured QuizForFun query to the beginning:

class QuizzesControllller 9000 :super_saiyan else load_sub_syan_fun_type # TODO: inline me end end end

You might expect our bout of inlining to introduce a ton of duplication in our code, but in practice, it surfaced a lot of dead code and made it clearer what the functions we left behind were doing. That wasn’t what we set out to do, but still, nice!

👛 Phase 2: Changing the Quiz Engine datastore

At this point all interactions with the Quiz Engine datastore were going through this new Quiz Engine service. Excellent! This means for the second part of this project, the part where we were actually going to avert the MySQL apocalypse, we wouldn’t need to worry about our legacy Rails code.

To facilitate easy refactoring, we built this new service in Haskell. The effect was immediately noticeable. Like an embargo had been lifted, from this point forward we saw a constant trickle of small productive refactors get mixed in the work we were doing, slowly reshaping types to reflect our latest understanding. Changes we wouldn’t have made on the Rails side unless we’d have set aside months of dedicated time. Haskell is a great tool to use to manage complexity!

The centerpiece of this phase was the architectural change we were planning to make: switching from MySQL to a horizontally scalable storage solution. But honestly, figuring the architecture details here wasn’t the most interesting or challenging portion of the work, so we’re just putting that aside for now. Maybe we’ll return to it in a future blog post (sneak peek: we ended up using Redis and Kafka). Like in step 1, the biggest question we had to solve was “how are we going to make it safe to move forward quickly?”

One challenge was that we had left most of our test suite behind in Rails in phase one, so we were not doing too well on that front. We added Haskell test coverage of course, including many golden result tests which are worth a post on their own. Together with our QA team we also invested in our Cypress integration test suite which runs tests from the browser, thus integration-testing the combination of our Rails and Haskell code.

Our most useful tool in making safe changes in this phase however was our production traffic. We started building up what was effectively a parallel Haskell service talking to Redis next to the existing one talking to MySQL. Both received production load from the start, but until the very end of the project only the MySQL code paths’ response values were used. When the Redis code path didn’t match the MySQL, we’d log a bug. Using these bug reports, we slowly massaged the Redis code path to return identical data to MySQL.

Because we weren’t relying on the output of the Redis code path in production, we could deploy changes to it many times a day, without fear of breaking the site for students or teachers. These deploys provided frequent and fast feedback. Deploying frequently was made possible by the Haskell Quiz Engine code living in its own service, which meant deploys contained only changes by our team, without work from other teams with a different risk profile.

🥁 So, did it work?

It’s been about a month since we’ve switched entirely to the new architecture and it’s been humming along happily. By the time we did the official switch-over to the new datastore it had been running at full-load (but with bugs) for a couple of months already. Still, we were standing ready with buckets of water in case we overlooked something. Our anxiety was in vain: the roll-out was a non-event.

Architecture, plans, goals, were all important to making this a success. Still, we think the thing most crucial to our success was continuously improving our feedback loops. Fast feedback (lots of deploys), accurate feedback (knowing all the MySQL queries Rails is making), detailed feedback (lots of context in error reports), high signal/noise ratio (removing errors we were not planning to act on), lots of coverage (many students doing quizzes). Getting this feedback required us to constantly tweak and create tooling and new processes. But even if these processes were sometimes short-lived, they've never been an overhead, allowing us to move so much faster.

#engineering

1 note · View note

getthebutters · 3 years

Text

UNLIMITED FREE SHIPPING HAS ARRIVED!

Here at The Butters, I'm unrepentantly obsessed with efficiency, ease of use, and simplicity. It's why we offer one of the most robust and mature shopping experiences among companies of any size. Today, we're taking our biggest step forward:

HELLO FREE SHIPPING! GOODYBYE SALES TAX!

Every single item, everyday. What you see is what you pay. Yes, that even includes tax! This is big news. No- enormous news! I've had it on my mind for over a year and I'm thrilled to be able to share it with ya!

With this change, you will notice that our pricing per item has adjusted $1-$5 depending on modern shipping costs. We also rolled in some product cost adjustments that I had held off on last year - there was more than enough change last year.

This is the biggest change we’ve ever had, but obviously it's with more than good reason. On top the of simplicity and predictability offered to you by flat pricing, there's a ton of other benefits for you, us, and me personally.

Even better customer service - We already offer amazing support for our creations but now we'll be able to offer regular hours for sales, service and support!

We now offer a $15/hr starting wage and paid time off. If you follow us on Facebook or Twitter you saw us announce a plan for a $17/hr starting wage for 2022, if we reach our sales goal of 500K this year. This helps us in sheer numbers and it removes the biggest barrier to purchase remaining on getthebutters.com

Lower international free shipping threshold! Cheaper express shipping! Free local delivery!

Bigger discounts when we have our rare sales/codes.

We'll be able to wholesale more Butters to stores all over the world. Our low pricing makes many items impossible to sell at the industry standard discount. I have not wanted to artificially inflate our pricing. Uncapitalistically yet characteristically, I'd just left that money on the table the past 5 years while I figured it out. This adjustment fixes that without actually charging you more just because.

It'll helps us afford our upcoming move into a dedicated space. Dedicated space means bigger stock, more variety, and the return of custom products.

On a personal level, dedicated space means I'll have my own home again for the first time in 5 years. I'll be able to mentally leave work more often, which is gonna make me a better leader for my growing team of 8, creator for you, and person for myself.

Although there's a ton of benefits, if you're on a budget, this might be unwelcome news in some ways. But don't worry, our Hook Up program isn't going anywhere. With adjusted pricing, it's actually more valuable than ever. It's also easier than ever with codes that last 2 full years. We totally understand that it's unlikely you're going to suddenly not be broke in 6 months, so let's just make it easier for you with a little less paperwork!

So, that's the plan. I have committed to this plan for 90 days. After that we are going to go back and look at the numbers to make sure that this was a business smart decision. But I'm confident this is going to turn out to be the smartest thing I've ever done for the company, and for you.

I can't thank y'all enough for your support through all these years, and in the future. This career path provides me a great sense of peace and accomplishment everyday. I could not do it without you. I will continue offering you the value and service you deserve from now to eternity.

Peace & Moisture

Jerome

2 notes · View notes

foodmadewithlove · 3 years

Text

With Delicious and Fresh Seafood, It’s No Wonder Why ‘Turner’s’ Is So Popular

I’ve always loved food. I tend to have high expectations for the meals I am receiving or eating, and strive to find places with a variety of dishes that I can choose from. If I’m going to pay for it, it has to be good. Few restaurants stand up to that measure, but I believe that I might have found one.

My goal was to find a family-owned and operated restaurant on the North Shore, a place that has been in the family for a long time. Since my Beat Reporting class junior year, I have been a member of the ‘North Shore Eats’ Facebook group page in which members of the North Shore communities suggest and recommend restaurants and places to eat. As I became stuck trying to find places on Google, I decided to reach out and ask members of the group their favorite restaurants that are family-owned and run. I was expecting a few responses, but when I looked at my post the next day, I had ended up receiving over 230 comments. I was blown away by how many people decided to help me, and very excited to look through all the recommendations.

There was one restaurant that everyone kept commenting, a place called ‘Turner’s Seafood’. Seafood is one of my favorite things to eat, especially when I am able to enjoy lobster rolls at the beach during the summer as well as clam chowder throughout the year. Since I love seafood and due to the fact that I had never heard of the restaurant before, I decided to look it up and became overwhelmed by what I found. ‘Turner’s’ had not one, not two, but three locations around the North Shore. The locations are all different, with some focusing on on-site dining and others providing a fresh seafood market for customers. They all looked amazing, but I knew I had to go to the location which started it all.

(Above) A shot of Turner’s Melrose location that I went to. Credit: Turner’s Seafood website.

20-year-old James F. Turner emigrated from St. John’s Newfoundland in 1922, and started his career on the Boston Fish Pier. With hard work, “Jim” opened ‘Turner Fisheries’ in 1954, eventually becoming one of the leading suppliers of fresh seafood due to the new ability to fly their products anywhere across the country. Due to a myriad of restrictions and regulations surrounding the seafood industry in the 1980s, John Turner (Jim’s only son) established ‘J. Turner Seafoods’ in 1989. This new wholesale company in Gloucester dealt with the lesser amount of supplies and difficult regulations that had been implemented.

John had four sons, who growing up learned the ins and outs of the seafood industry. In their hometown of Melrose, John’s four sons opened up ‘Turner’s Seafood Grill and Market’ in 1994. The sons decided to expand the business, first creating a Gloucester location in 2006 as well as a market in the same location that ships seafood overnight in 2010. The Turner brothers additionally opened up another restaurant in Salem in 2013. Each restaurant and location is different, but all has that same family-oriented atmosphere to them. On their website, ‘Turner’s’ boasts that 9 of the 4th generation of the Turner family currently work in the three locations.

That’s how I arrived at ‘Turner’s Seafood Grill and Market’, the sons’ original location in Melrose. The seemingly small location is located on one of the main streets in downtown Melrose, among other shops and restaurants. With the onset of warm weather, various people had been sitting in multiple tables outside the restaurant, enjoying drinks such as martinis as well as their food. When I walked in, I was met by the delicious smell of fresh, cooked seafood. The restaurant is much bigger than it looks, split into four sections. The dark colored walls are filled with various seafood-related decorations, such as oars and fake fish. To the right, a glass display case held fresh seafood such as clams and shrimp on ice, in which customers are able to purchase every day. Behind that, a bunch of small tables remain in an ‘oyster bar’ area, where customers can get fresh oysters upon request.

On the other side of the restaurant, multiple tables covered in blue-striped tablecloths allow customers to get a full dining experience. I was seated in a high top next to the regular tables, near a string-lights covered bar that normally has seating but due to Covid has been removed. I noticed a hard working bartender, making his way through the various drink orders of the night. I could hear him constantly talking with the waitresses, creating a comfortable atmosphere that reminded me of fun family banter.

The restaurant had the option of ordering through your phone, but I decided to order with a waitress, who welcomed us with a smile and a greeting. Since it was my first time there, she was very helpful in describing the various dishes they had to offer. ‘Turner’s’ has a wide variety of options on their menu, starting with appetizers such as clam chowder that is not bad priced at $6.50 a cup. I went there with my boyfriend, and we decided to start off with a warm crab dip as we both enjoy crab. It didn’t take too long for the appetizer to come, and we were excited to dig in. The plate contained four large soft pretzels, which we were able to dip in a ramekin of warm, delicious crab dip. It was very savory, and I could even find large chunks of crab in my spoonfuls, which greatly impressed me. It was just what we wanted to start off the night.

It was truly hard to decide what I wanted for my meal, as ‘Turner’s’ has so much to offer. I considered getting the crab roll, but decided that since I just had the crab dip, it would be too much of the same thing. My boyfriend considered getting fish and chips, but we both knew that we wanted to go down to ‘Turner’s’ Gloucester location to eat at their specialty fish and chips shop soon. He ended up getting the yellowfin tuna burger, with fries and a brightly colored slaw as well as a wasabi aioli (that was too spicy for me, but he loved it!). The burger is one of the lower priced items on the menu at $15.00, but is still fairly large for its price and easily able to be shared. I ended up trying his burger, which seemed a little dry to me, but was still full of fresh flavor and seasonings. As for me, I love shrimp, so I decided on getting stuffed shrimp with a baked potato and brussel sprouts as my sides.

When the food arrived, I was very impressed with the overall presentation. Four shrimp sat in the middle, all stuffed with a breadlike seafood vegetable filling. My baked potato was to the left, with a pad of already melted butter sitting in its ridges. The brussel sprouts, which contained bacon, sat on the right. My mouth was watering even before I dug in. The presentation was great, but the food was even better. Each shrimp tasted like it had just come out of the ocean, and the bread filling reminded me of Thanksgiving day stuffing. The filling was a perfect combination with the shrimp, as it added extra flavor and texture. They were topped off with a lobster basil cream sauce, which was heavenly. It had an almost buttery taste to it, a creamy flavoring that was delicious on top of the shrimp. The sauce seeped into my brussel sprouts, which combined with the smokey flavor of the bacon throughout.

(Above) The meal I got at Turner’s, a stuffed shrimp dish with a baked potato and brussel sprouts.

The star of the show truly were the roasted brussel sprouts, which were fresh and perfectly charred to perfection. I normally don’t like whole brussel sprouts, but these changed my mind. They were a 2 dollar upgrade, but completely worth it. My baked potato with butter was pretty good, but nothing special, tasting starchy like a normal potato without any seasoning. Even so, it was a delicious meal overall. My dinner wasn’t badly priced either, a steal at $22.00 for a large plate of fresh seafood (which is usually highly priced!). After I ate, I was so full and pleased with what I had just gotten.

When the check came, I was shocked to see that the price wasn’t higher. I feel that they gave fresh, delicious seafood for a great price, which is amazing. After we left, I knew this could be deemed as one of the best restaurants I had tried in the North Shore area. I will definitely be back, and I of course want to try the other ‘Turner’s’ locations in the area. I encourage you to check out the various ‘Turner’s’ restaurants across the North Shore, you won’t be disappointed!

1 note · View note

emperorsfoot · 4 years

Link

Inconvenient Arrangements chapter 4.

Hordak and Entrapta continue to be the least romantic couple in the universe.

Meanwhile, we get another flashback of Keldor and he’s all like

...

The royal gardens of Eternos were very different from the Imperial gardens on Horde World. While the gardens of the Imperial palace were filled with bushes and grasses from all over the universe, carefully tended, tripped and shaped to be aesthetically pleasing, and impermanent and replaced after every bad storm, the gardens of Eternos looked almost wild. Tall trees with thick trunks and dense branches, ground vines climbing out of the beds and up the walls, flowers of every variety growing wherever they pleased as if just allowed to take root wherever the wind blew their seeds. Hec-Tor was not used to something that was supposed to be part of a royal property looking so… unplanned.

The Prince sneezed, wondering if he was allergic to something in the gardens and if an epinephrine would react adversely with his medications.

Next to him, Keldor yawned. Board. His intended was board of his company. Not that Hec-Tor found the other Prince particularly riveting either. They had little in common and little to talk about aside from their pending nuptials and one could not fill an entire afternoon of contract mandated bonding discussing how much you hated said contract forcing you to bond. Keldor looked behind them at their escorts. The robotic diplomat Dylamug, and a Gar warrior named Sy-Klone. They both looked about as board and uninterested as Hec-Tor and Keldor felt.

Noting just how disinterested their chaperones were, Kedor grabbed Hec-Tor by the hand and pulled him off the grass-grown gravel path.

“Wha-!?” Hec-Tor was about to demand an explanation for the sudden action, but Keldor placed a blue hand over his mouth.

“Shh!” He hissed, ebony hair falling in front of one pointed ear. “Follow me.”

Keldor began to climb up a vine-entangled tree with low-hanging branches and dense leaves to hide them from view. But when he saw that Hec-Tor was not immediately following him, he grabbed the other man’s hand and practically had to drag the Horde Prince up. They sat on a one of the boughs, Keldor leaning around the trunk to make sure their escorts were not suspicious. As far as he could tell, they were laughing at the idea that Keldor had dragged Hec-Tor off for a bout of pre-nuptial… affection.

“What are we doing up here?” Demanded the Imperial Prince.

“Don’t you wanna get outta here?” Keldor asked.

Well, actually, yes. Hec-Tor did want to get off of Eternia and away from this arrangement. But Brother really wanted Eternia for some reason and to get it, Hec-Tor had to marry Keldor. So he could not leave. A fact he could not believe he had to remind his fiancé of . “What we want is immaterial in this matter.”

Keldor only rolled his dark eyes and tucked a strand of hair behind his delicately pointed ear. “Wow. They’re got you really well trained.”

“I beg your par-!” Was insulted, but the offense quickly turned to dismay as Keldor pushed him backwards and Hec-Tor found himself suddenly falling.

The sound he made was not Princely or dignified.

Eyes wide, talons clawing at –a wall. What he thought was a bush or part of a hedge maze, was in fact a vine-covered wall, and he was falling down the outside of it. Talons cut through leaves or scraped over exposed patches of stone, until he was able to finally gain purchase on a vine strong enough to hold him. Hec-Tor clung to the wall as if it were the only solid thing in existence.

Keldor slid down next to him, but more controlled. “First time ditching your keepers?”

“What have you done!?” Hec-Tor demanded.

“I told you. We’re getting out.” His intended scoffed as if this should have been obvious. “Don’t tell me you were actually having fun on our ‘quiet and leisurely stroll through the gardens’. He slid down the vines a fraction of a meter, expecting Hec-Tor to follow him. “C’mon. I’ll show you the real Eternia!”

Hec-Tor looked up at the wall, gauging the distance he’d already fallen. He could climb that easily. Get back inside the castle, go to Horde Prime and made his brother see that this Prince Keldor of Eternia was not a suitable partner for a member of the Imperial family. But after he pulled himself up a little short of a meter, he began to feel woozy, the warning of an on-coming faiting spell, and decided that he would rather be much, much closer to the ground. Hec-Tor followed Keldor’s example and used the vines to slide down the wall.

Their boots touched ground in a narrow alley behind the castle. It stank of city waste and there were vermin skittering over the stones. Hec-Tor leaned against the wall and breathed in the noxious air, hoping the dizziness would pass without him losing consciousness in the middle of a filthy ally.

“You having a panic attack or something?” Keldor asked.

Hec-Tor cast a sideways glare at him. Crimson eyes glowing in the dim ally.

Keldor did not seem the least bit impressed. Apparently, Hec-Tor was not very intimidating when he looked –and felt- like he was about to pass out. Keldor grabbed his hand again. “C’mon. There’s a bar I like down this way.”

Hec-Tor could not drink alcohol. It reacted badly with his medications. But he also could not pull away when Keldor dragged him down the ally and around a corner.

They came out on a semi-crowded street full of a diverse variety of Eternian races and alien visitors. It was more people than Hec-Tor had ever been around at one time and he suddenly felt inexplicably anxious. He held tighter to Keldor’s hand and closed the distance between them, almost pressing his whole body against the other man’s side.

“You afraid of getting lost or something?” He teased.

“I am unused to… this.” All of this. Being in a crowded street. People not automatically making space for him and giving him a wide birth out of respect. Defying protocol, evading their chaperones, and stealing out of castle grounds. All of it. Hec-Tor was unused to all of it. What kinds of things did they teach their Princes on Eternia for Keldor to even know how to do this!? Never mind actually do it.

The other man only laughed. Keldor seemed to do a lot of laughing at him and Hec-Tor was concerned by the fact that he did not hate it. “C’mon, we’re almost there.”

He pulled Hec-Tor into a dimply lit tavern that stank of stale grain, alcohol, and the funk of perspiration from a vide and diverse variety of organisms. Hec-Tor had to cover his nasal cavity with his hand. It was rank and offensive to smell. How anyone could drink anything from this place was a mystery to him.

Keldor dragged them both right up to the bar, laid two silver coins on the counter, and grinned at the bartender when she asked how old they were. “Old enough to be married.”

(The age of consent on Eternia was younger than the legal drinking age.)

The bartender continued to glare at them. So Keldor slowly placed a gold coin on the table along side the silver. The silver coins were placed in the bar’s till, the gold coin disappeared into her pocket, and two tankards of some frothy grain-alcohol replaced them on the counter. “Just don’t make any trouble.”

Keldor gave a mock gasp. “Trouble? Me? Well, I never-!”

The bartender rolled her eyes again. “I know who you are, and I have Man-at-Arms on speed dial.”

Another gold coin was placed on the bar counter.

“But silly me forgot to charge my com last night.”

Grinning, Keldor pressed one frothing tankard into Hec-Tor’s hands and led him to a table in the middle of the room.

Hec-Tor sniffed the drink cautiously. “I cannot drink this.”

“Sure you can!” Keldor insisted. “Just put it in your mouth and swallow.”

“I mean, it will make me very, very ill.” Hec-Tor clarified.

“Yeah…” Agreed the other man. “But you’ll have a lot of fun first!”

Setting his tankard down on the table, Hec-Tor pushed it away from himself. “I would like to go back to the castle now.”

Keldor was already chugging his drink. He had a froth mustache when he lowered the tankard. “Aw, but we only just got here! I haven’t even gotten into a bar fight yet.”

Hec-Tor raised a baled brow at him. Princes were not supposed to slink down narrow allies, or get into bar fights with common drunkards. He opened his mouth to remind Keldor of this fact, and also made a mental note to inform Brother of this little escapade as evidence that the engagement should be called off and the alliance with Eternia sealed some other way.

But he didn’t get the chance to.

At that exact moment, a large Qadian came up to their table. A dark scowl on his feline face, arms crossed over his chest with disproval. “You, Gar,” he hissed, “you’re at my table.”

“Never mind.” Keldor smirked at Hec-Tor, “I’m right on schedule.” He turned around to face the cat-like alien –although, to Keldor he wouldn’t be an alien, Qadians were native to Eternia- “I am? I’m so sorry, I had no idea this was your table, Mr. Torg Sisters Wholesale Furniture Warehouse! That is your name, I assume, as it’s the only name written on it.”

The Qadian’s whiskers twitched asymmetrically. “You can’t sit here, Gar.”

“I can’t?” He gasped, as if truly and honestly shocked. He looked down at his chair. “By the Goddess! It must be a miracle. Look! I’m sitting! Here!”

Losing patience quickly, the Qadian grabbed Keldor by one of the belts crossed over his chest. “Listen, you Blue Bastard, we don’t want your kind here!”

Hec-Tor shot to his feet. No one grabbed a Prince like that! At least, in the Empire, no one would dare!

“What kind is that?” Keldor asked, not appearing to be intimidated by the hostile feline. “Gar, young people, or someone who can hold his liquor probably better than you.”

“Let him go.” Hec-Tor commanded, putting all the regal command of his station into the words. For half a second, to his own ears, he sounded just like Brother. A Horde Prime. Commanding, and strong. He stood up. Then immediately felt the same faintness from a few minutes ago when Keldor pushed him over the castle wall. But he tried to ignore it.

“And what are you supposed to be?” Scoffed the Qadian, unimpressed.

Not many people outside of Horde World actually knew what members of the Imperial Family looked like. They were so many generations removed from the original Horde Prime, and each suffered physical defects that sometimes altered their appearance, that none of them looked like the clones of the Horde military.

“I am a-“

“This is my fiancé, uh… Hordak!” Keldor cut him off before Hec-Tor could announce that he was a Prince of the Horde Empire and that Keldor was Prince Keldor First Born to the House of Miro. Apparently, that would spoil his fun. “Hordak, sweetie, say ‘hi’ to the nice kitty.”

Hec-Tor frowned.

“Are you making fun of me!” Demanded the Qadian. He did not appreciate being called a ‘kitty’, anymore than Keldor appreciated being called a ‘blue bastard’.

Keldor only smirked. “I’m usually making fun of everyone.”

With a hiss and a snarl, the Qadian threw Keldor at the table.

He caught himself on its edge and used it for balance while he ducked a fast punch from the Qadian.

Hec-Tor, acting more on impulse rather than any conscious strategy, picked up the whole table and threw it at the Qadian. The feline alien had to jump to dodge the projectile furniture. His fur all puffed out, he hissed again.

But the action brought on another wave of dizziness. The physical exertion just a little too much for him. Hec-Tor’s vison blurred as his body did what it had been threatening to do almost all day. He passed out.

He didn’t get to see the rest of the fight. He wasn’t sure what happened, exactly. But when he came to again, he was slung over Keldor’s back like a sack, and the other man was carrying him down the same ally they’d first dropped down into from the castle wall. Hec-Tor groaned.

“You’re awake.” Keldor put him down. He had a swollen lip and a bruise on the side of his face, but nothing was bleeding and all his teeth were still there. “Wasn’t that fun!”

“We got into a fight!” Hec-Tor was not fully recovered yet and getting worked up was not what he needed right now, but this Prince Keldor was… wild. He examined himself for injuries. Apart from the familiar soreness that came from laying on a hard floor, there were none. They must have ignored him once he passed out.

“Fighting is fun.”

“Fighting is for clones.” Hec-Tor corrected. He massaged the sides of his head. His vision was still a little blurry. “Why are you even getting into fights anyway? You’re not a warrior. I was told you’re a sorcerer!”

Keldor only shrugged. “Two things can be true.”

“I should not have helped you.” Hec-Tor shook his head.

“But I’m glad you did.” Keldor told him. “You’re supposed to be able to depend on your spouse. Married people should help each other.”

…

Contract mandated bonding time with Entrapta was just as much of a whirlwind as his first few months with Keldor, but in a different way. Entrapta did not push him over walls, or drag him to seedy bars in the slums, or get into bar fights with the absolute scum of the planet. Entrapta insisted he take her on a tour of the shieldwall that ran the perimeter of the city.

She wanted to walk the narrow service shafts the maintenance workers used to keep it in working order. She wanted to see the gear housings that lifted and lowered the shield for a storm. She wanted to examine the turbines that collected the storms’ energy. She wanted to watch the generators in action, powering the city with the raw power of the harsh world they lived on.

The interior of the shieldwall was almost as dirty and grungy as the outside. Rust on the exposed pipes, painted signs and safety markings sanded down to the base metal they were painted on, discolored wall panels, dust collecting in the corner where the wall met the floor.

But Entrapta seemed to be having the time of her life.

Wearing those baggy overalls again, looking like any other maintenance worker, several of the regular staff assumed she was an intern or a new-hire before they saw that she was in the company of an Imperial Prince. Hec-Tor had counted five people so far, who had approached Entrapta to ask her where she was assigned. Was she lost? What was she doing at this part of the wall? etc., before they noted Prince Hec-Tor Kur trailing behind her, his spine straight, and arms clasped behind his back. A perfect pillar of Imperial discipline and command. Then the stuttering and near incomprehensible apologies would start tumbling out of their trembling mouths.

Entrapta seemed oblivious to this, however. The moment she was approached by anyone who actually worked there, she would bombard them with questions. How many people per shift did it take to maintain the wall? How many shifts per day? Were they all skilled workers? What was the most common problem that occurred working on the wall? What steps did they take to address these reoccurring problems?

That actually wasn’t that bad. It was about what Hec-Tor was coming to expect from her.

Then she stretched out a tendril of her prehensile hair and lifted herself up onto one of the large pistons that lifted the wall and the shieldwall staff all nearly fainted. Entrapta swung from piston to piston, and between gears, examining the moving parts –that were currently not moving- of the shieldwall. It was actually a little refreshing to know that Entrapta was shocking and uncomfortable to other people as well as him.

Most people, when they visited Horde World and wanted to tour the shieldwall, they wanted to ride hover bikes along the top and see how many laps they could do around the city in a day (the max to date was one and a half). See just how tall it was, how far into the dessert they could see, how small the buildings of the city looked from on top. Or see how many members of their species they could fit standing shoulder-to-shoulder across its width. But all Entrapta wanted to do was measure the cogwheels that could crush and kill her if they suddenly started moving.

She was nothing if not unique. Hec-Tor could give her that. Brother certainly had a talent for finding the most unusual partners possible for him.

Hec-Tor yawned, mouth stretching wide, displaying sharp crimson teeth. It felt like they had spent the whole morning here. He checked the chronometer on the wall. They had spent the whole morning here. It was afternoon now and Hec-Tor would need to take his medications.

“Entrapta.” He called to her.

“Just a second!” She answered. Swinging from one impossibly large piece of machinery to another.

“Princess Entrapta.” He tried again, putting stress on her title in an attempt to remind her that she had duties and responsibilities to attend to and could not spend all her time on leisure pursuits and hobbies.

Swinging on her hair again, she did a seemingly unnecessary mid-air summersault and landed directly in front of him.

Gosh! She was so short! Standing on her feet, without her hair adding any height to her, Entrapta barely came up to Hec-Tor’s sternum.

“Did you need something?” She asked.

“It is time we break for lunch.” He informed her without inflection.

“Oh. I’m not really hungry.” She shrugged with her shoulders and made a dismissive motion with her hair.

Entrapta struck him as the kind of person that –when they were interested in something- would continue to focus their attention on that thing and ignore meals or not notice that they were even hungry at all. That, however, was not an attitude anyone in his family could afford. Every single Kur –including Imp, the most healthy of all of them- relied on medications and supplements, the vast majority of which had to be taken with food. Hec-Tor could not afford to skip a meal, and since they were required to spend time ‘getting to know each other’ before their wedding, she could not afford to skip a meal either. After they were married, she could do, or not do, whatever she wanted. But, for right now, she had to follow his schedule as strictly as he himself did.

“But I am.” Hec-Tor informed her. “We will break for lunch then you may return to your study of the shieldwall.”

“Oh. I’m pretty much done here.” She announced, much to Hec-Tor’s frustration. If she was already done, why did she make it seem like she didn’t want to leave?

Lunch was served on an observation deck atop the wall.

The servants quickly set up a collapsible picnic table, covered it with a table cloth brought from the palace, and laid out the meal that had been prepared ahead of time. Complete with a covered ceramic cup that contained the battery of pills Hec-Tor had to choke down three times a day.

Entrapta seemed to ignore the table setting and the meal, however. Her attention was focused on the view. Finally, a normal thing visitors did when they came to Horde World. Admire the view.

The previous day’s storms had thrown up the sand into many high-peaked dunes. Heat waves could be seen rising off the sides where Horde World’s yellow sun glared down on them, baking the already burnt sienna landscape. Frost could just barely be seen sparking in the dark shadowed side where the suns could not reach. Horde World was a planet of extremes.

“It’s really amazing anything managed to thrive on Horde World at all.” She exclaimed. “I mean, apart from the dragon-roaches and the super-bacteria.” Her gloves were pressed up against the observation glass that enclosed the deck. “What’s the ambient temperature outside right now?”

“Inside the city, or out in the desert?” Asked Hec-Tor.

He selected several of the tiny items of food the kitchen staff had prepared for them. It took eight of them to equal the size of a normal bite of food for him. Why did the kitchen staff make them such tiny food? The morsels were so small, in fact, that he barely had to swallow. With something already on its way to his stomach, Hec-Tor tipped his dose of medications in his mouth and washed them down.

“The city has climate buffers that regulate the temperature, right?” She asked. “That’s how people can walk around without freezing in the shade or getting cooked in the sun. But what’s the rest of the planet like?”

It took him a couple of swallows to completely clear his throat of water and medications. Then another moment to remind his body that it was not choking and did not have to trigger the gag reflex. He took another sip of water just for good measure. “The average daytime temperature in direct sunlight is over 500 degrees Kelvin.” He informed her. “Two-hundred seventy degrees Kelvin in the shade.”

“That’s so wild!” Entrapta did a theatric little twirl, her hair spiraling around her. She flopped down in the empty seat provided for her and popped a morsel of tiny food into her mouth. “Horde World is like one of those planets that doesn’t have any atmospheric layers. Nothing between it and space to buffer the solar radiation or insulate the landscape. But it does have an atmosphere. We’re breathing it right now! And it’s not like the city is under a dome or anything. It’s just dummy harsh outside.”

Reluctant though he was to admit it, Hec-Tor did have to agree that Horde World was unlike any of the other –inhabited- planets he’d been to.

“The planet’s previous owners did irreparable damage to its environment. So much so that they changed the climate to be completely inhospitable to their breed of life.” He grabbed another handful of tiny food portions and shoved them in his mouth, just to be sure there was sufficient food in his stomach with his medications. “What is Etheria like? I am sure it is… mild, compared to Horde World.”

Tapping her chin with a strand of hair, Entrapta thought. “Well… I wouldn’t call it ‘mild’. It’s certainly more diverse than Horde World. But Etheria has got its own extremes. The Northern Reach is a permanently frozen tundra. I guess you could call it an Ice Cap. Then the Crimson Waste is a lot like Horde World, a vast desert, dry, hot, no surface water, it just doesn’t have your temperature extremes.”

“And Dryl?”

“We get a lot of weather in Dryl.” She answered distractedly, picking up two tiny morsels and popping them into her mouth one at a time. Then washing them down with a carbonated sweet drink Hec-Tor refused to taste.

“And what does that mean?” He raised one bald brow, confused.

“Dryl is mostly a temperate zone.” She supplied. “We get all four seasons and all the weather that comes with them. Snow in the winter, rain and storms in the spring, absurd humidity in the summers, thunder and lighting in the autumn, lots, and lots of lighting, I swear, the mountains add extra charge to the atmosphere! –then back to winter snow!”

“That does sound like… a lot of weather.” He agreed, not knowing what else to say.

“I spend most of my time in my lab, but I’m told it can be fun.” Entrapta informed him. “Skiing in the winter, rafting in the spring, camping in the summer, festivals in the fall. I’m not much of an outdoors person, but if you are you might like it!”

“I…” Because of his condition, Hec-Tor preferred not to do anything too strenuous if it could be avoided.

Skiing and rafting sounded absolutely terrible to him. Camping was a word that had different meanings to different people he found. For his family, ‘camping’ was rouging it in a slightly smaller palace or castle with limited servants and fewer amenities. That was not what the word camping meant to the vast majority of other people Hec-Tor met. And fesitvals… Hec-Tor had mixed experiences with festivals. Experiences ranging from ‘we just have to light the brazier, then we can go home’, to ‘I just bought these two pills off some guy, let’s pop ‘em and see what happens’, and everything in between. (Attending festivals with his brother and attending festivals with Keldor were two very different experiences.) The outdoor activities of Dryl did not sound appealing.

“When I am not working I usually spend my free time servicing or improving upon my armor.” An activity that was also spent indoors.

Entrapta instantly perked up. Fuchsia eyes focusing on him with an intensity he was unused to. Showing an unfettered interest in him –not his planet’s technology or adaptations, but him- for the first time. “Oh? Did you design your own armor? Are you an engineer? Robotic designer? May I take a look at your armor to see how you’ve integrated the prosthetic tech into your organic body?”

Her interest was almost too intense for him and Hec-Tor found himself physically leaning away from her. “We manage our own… defects.”

She blinked at him, not fully comprehending. “You mean, you came up with that design to manage your condition all on your own? And maintain it all on your own? No one heled you. Even when you were a child? C’mon. You can’t expect me to believe that you don’t take care of Imp, or Horde Prime doesn’t take care of Prince Zed! Everyone needs help sometimes! And married people should help their spouses.”

#keldor #skeletor #hordak #hordak/skeletor #entrapdak #entrapta/hordak #entrapta #spop #fan fic #ao3 #inconvenient arrangements #RenkonNairu #horde world #eternia #etheria #literally talking about the weather

17 notes · View notes

chiseler · 4 years

Text

Puttin’ on the Ritz

No fame is more fleeting than the showbiz kind. Some entertainers are just too much in and of a particular time. In the 1920s Harry Richman was a big star, billed as the Greatest Entertainer In America. He could sing and play piano, dance and act a little; he ran a hugely successful nightclub, was the toast of Broadway and, very briefly, a star in Hollywood; he wrote or introduced several songs that are still sung. But most of all he just personified the Roaring Twenties. He was the sleek, rakish, vaguely smarmy bon vivant in top hat and tails who was enjoying the decade's non-stop party as much as you were. It's been said that he was to the 1920s what the Rat Pack were to their era. Harry's career peaked just as the party crashed to a halt at the end of the decade, and he faded out in the 1930s. If his name comes up at all today, it's probably less often as an entertainer than as a footnote in aviation history.

He was born Harry Reichman in Cincinnati in 1895. His dad, a Russian Jewish immigrant, started out peddling eyeglasses door to door, carrying all his equipment on his back. He worked his way up to a prosperous wholesale business and real estate empire, and developed a taste for the high life. It killed him by the time Harry was an adolescent. In his thoroughly entertaining (sometimes suspiciously so) 1966 autobiography A Hell of a Life, Harry paints himself as a fecklessly scheming kid who grew up quick. At nine, he writes, he was a weekend ticket taker at an amusement park, shortchanging every customer he could because he was saving up to marry his childhood sweetheart. One night he showed off his ill-gotten riches by taking the girl out on the town. They stayed out too late to go home, so Harry got them a hotel room. When the cops burst through the door in the wee hours they found the kids sleeping fully clothed on separate beds. A doctor confirmed that the girl's honor was intact. Her dad put the kibosh to their romance anyway.

Harry's mother bought him piano lessons, dreaming he'd be a concert pianist, but like most kids at the time he was more interested in ragtime and jazz. He left home at around fourteen and headed to Indianapolis. There he and a kid who played fiddle went door to door in the kind of neighborhoods where an upright in the parlor wasn't uncommon. They'd bang out a few popular tunes for spare change. As Remington & Reichman they were soon touring the very small-time Webster circuit of vaudeville theaters in the Dakotas and Canada, known to vaudevillians as the Death Trail. Harry kept working his way around the west, singing at the piano in saloons and whorehouses, working as a singing waiter in restaurants, as part of a "Hawaiian" hula act in a circus sideshow. At the 1915 Panama-Pacific International Exhibition in San Francisco he was in a musical act that opened for Harry Houdini, fifteen shows a day. Playing in Los Angeles clubs favored by the movie crowd he got to be pals with Charlie Chaplin and Al Jolson, whom he idolized. Jolson got him a shot at Ziegfeld's Midnight Frolic, the late-night club revue that gave Eddie Cantor his big break. Harry raced to New York, but flopped and was canned after only one night. He was so despondent he ran off and joined the Navy.

He arrived back in New York in 1920, just when Prohibition did too. Now he and the city were ready for each other. On vaudeville stages he found work as an accompanist for headliners like the singer Nora Bayes and the beautiful twin Dolly Sisters, and for a while was Mae West's on-stage pianist and straight man. He was reluctant to speak lines at first because he had a lisp that he could hide more easily when singing. West convinced him it was a distinguishing feature. He soon got top billing on his own on the Keith-Albee circuit. He also played at ritzy speakeasies like the Beaux Arts, where, he claims, Prohibition's hostess with the mostest Texas Guinan stole her signature line "Give the little girls a big hand" from him.

Nils T. Granlund, known as NTG, was both a radio pioneer and the publicist for Marcus Loew's movie theater empire. He hired Harry to headline live radio shows from Loew's State Theatre, the movie palace in Times Square. Harry plugged new songs on air, like Billy Rose's "Does the Chewing Gum Lose Its Flavor on the Bedpost Overnight?" With NTG's help he opened his own Club Richman just behind Carnegie Hall. Harry made it one of the most opulent and exclusive nightclub/speakeasies in town. A lot of Broadway and movie stars became regulars, as of course did Mayor Jimmy Walker, and the Vanderbilts and Whitneys, and foreign royalty -- you saw everybody who was anybody there.

Or wanted to be somebody, like the chorus girl Lucille Le Seur. Accounts vary as to how Lucille got into the swank club. In one version, she convinced NTG, her sugar daddy at the time, to get her a spot in the club dancing the Charleston. NTG introduced her to Loew, who arranged a screen test at MGM, where she'd get her first tiny roles in 1925. Studio chief Louis B. Mayer decided her name sounded like Le Sewer, so the studio ran a publicity campaign in which the fans got to give her a new name: Joan Crawford. She never liked it.

For his part, Harry claimed that he discovered Crawford. He did have an eye for the beauties. He was one of the first to spot Jean Harlow, Sally Rand and Maureen O'Sullivan. Harry was an infamous ladies' man, bedding a long line of beauties from chorus girls to socialites to Harlow, maybe Rand, and Clara Bow. According to Harry, his office at the club had a secret door for sneaking them in and out while their husbands or dates drummed their fingers at their tables thinking they were just taking a long time powdering their noses. He says that the Hollywood Bowl couldn't hold all the women he had, and classes himself "a specialist in man's favorite sport."

Between the club and his other gigs Harry minted money and became the playboy nonpareil. He wore the finest bespoke suits and carried a gold cigarette case with his initials on it in diamonds. He commuted in a Rolls from Manhattan to his big house out on the water in Beechhurst, Queens, where he had a yacht and threw Gatsby-like parties for celebrities, beauties and millionaires. He learned to fly and kept a growing fleet of planes at nearby Flushing Airport. Harry worked hard, played hard, drank oceans of booze and smoked whole fields of tobacco. Everyone marveled at his stamina and joie de vivre even in that over-the-top decade.

In 1926, while still playing the host at his club, Harry got a featured role on Broadway in George White's Scandals, one of several knockoffs of the Ziegfeld Follies. After a boffo year it toured other cities, including Cincinnati, where, he notes ruefully, it tanked. In 1930 he headlined Lew Leslie's International Revue, where he introduced "On the Sunny Side of the Street." And in 1931 he made it, finally, into the Follies as well. He got his choice of songs to perform, including "Lullaby of Broadway." He was at the top of his career in those shows, the king of Broadway; his friend Eddie Cantor memorably said he wore Broadway like a boutonniere.

He didn't do so well in Hollywood. He starred, playing himself as "Harry Raymond," in the 1930 musical Puttin' on the Ritz, in which he introduced the song by his pal Irving Berlin. The movie did mediocre business then and is barely watchable now except for that number, Harry gliding around in front of an army of dancers with his top hat tilted over one eye. His recording of the song, which some consider the best, was a hit. (Among his other records are Berlin's "Blue Skies," his own "Muddy Waters" and a pretty wonderful Jolson-ish rendition of "Ain't She Sweet.") While in Hollywood to make the film he met Clara Bow. Teamed up at first for publicity purposes only, they became a hot item and got engaged. Then she suddenly married someone else. Hearing the news, he says, was the only time in his life that he fainted.

He'd make only two more feature films and one short. He sums them up this way: "All were forgettable. It became clear to me that whatever I had was best projected in person, either on the stage or in a night club." By the time he made the last film, released in 1938, he was well past his prime. When the Depression hit and then Prohibition ended, guys like Harry, icons of the Roaring Twenties, just didn't fit the new reality. To his credit, he didn't hang around like some other ghosts of the 1920s did. He left New York and settled in Miami, which was booming and lousy with new nightclubs where he could coast for a few years on his dazzling past. He went fishing with Hemingway and played with his airplanes.

His real fame in the 1930s came in fact as a flyer. In the mid-1930s he'd set altitude and speed records. Then in 1935 he and the pilot Dick Merrill made the world's first round-trip transatlantic flight in a single-engine plane. They filled the plane with tens of thousands of ping-pong balls as flotation devices should they land in the soup. Harry being Harry, after reaching Wales on the outward leg of the trip, they flew on to Paris to party all night with Maurice Chevalier before making the return flight. They landed upside-down in a Newfoundland bog, but they made it. It wasn't as big a deal as Lindbergh's one-way crossing in 1927, but Harry calls it the high point of his life.

Harry didn't make much news after that. He played some clubs through the 1940s, his looks and voice rough from all that carousing and smoking. He still had lots of friends in the show business who tried to engineer comebacks for him, but the public had long since forgotten him. By the time A Hell of a Life came out in 1966 he'd spent the millions he'd made in his heyday and was living alone, quietly and frugally, in Burbank, an old guy who'd gone full-tilt as long as he could, had a hell of a lot of memories and not too many regrets. He died in 1972.

by John Strasbaugh

4 notes · View notes

relevy · 5 years

Text

Chapter One | Chapter Two

Ghada awoke to a thin dawn filtering in through the boarded slitted windows of the barracks. The snores of the men around her were only slightly muffled by the stalls that surrounded each cot. The mattress beneath her was stuffed with fresh straw that crinkled as she shifted and sat up. She had been provided with a small chest for her personal belongings, which were few. With muscles still sore from the spar with Mordred, she knelt down and opened it. Inside was her armor, by far the most precious thing she owned, which she had spent the last of her coin on before leaving Aksum. She sat back on her heels and wondered what was expected of her now that she was a member of the Alt Clut. The thought of orientating herself to her new surroundings had slipped her mind completely in the revelry of the evening.

A shadow passed over her and she looked up. Another redheaded knight stood above her, not only taller than Gareth, but a good twenty years older as well. He was middle-aged, with lines around his mouth and eyes that indicated he laughed often. The full beard that enveloped his chin matched the copper hairs of his head. He thrust out one hand. She took it as she stood, noticing how calloused his fingers were.

“I’m Gawain,” he said simply, “I thought you might want a tour?”

“I would appreciate that,” she said, her breath fogging in the cold morning air.

Unused to these temperatures she had slept fully clothed.

“I brought you some things,” he produced a bundle of cloth and handed it to her.

She unwrapped the gift delicately. Inside was a woolen tunic intended to slip over her shirt. She gratefully pulled it over her head and cinched it at her waist with a leather cord. It hung just above her knees, warming her upper body instantly. Gawain had also brought her a thick set of hose, without even thinking she began to untie her breeches. The Knight blushed and turned quickly allowing her some privacy. She slipped on the hose and then maneuvered back into the breeches before pulling on her boots.

“I have returned to decency,” she teased.

Gawain turned back around, his cheeks still pink with embarrassment. Ghada wrapped her woolen shawl over her head and around her neck and gave him a nod to indicate she was ready.

“I’ll show you to the stables,” Gawain turned on his heel and she quickly followed him from the barracks. The courtyard was grey in the early morning light, and she clutched her arms over her chest to contain what little heat she had left.

“How do you stand these temperatures?” she asked, her teeth chattering against each other.

“You get used to it,” Gawain said over his shoulder.

They crossed the courtyard together; many of the servants were already awake, passing by with baskets of clothing or fresh bread. She snagged a bun from a young maid who squeaked at her in complaint. The roll steamed as she bit into it, and she gave a contented sigh. Now on the western edge of the fort, Gawain led her inside to the stables, which was situated between the inner and outer walls directly parallel to the barracks.

Inside, the comforting scent of leather, horse, and straw met her nostrils. It was a familiar aroma.

“Did you arrive with a horse?”

Ghada shook her head and swallowed the last of her stolen breakfast. Gawain made a noise in his throat and led her down the stalls. She heard the horses shuffling in the straw strewn over the floor. The Knight stopped before one of them, cracking open the gate. She craned her neck to sneak a look at the animal inside. Gawain pulled a lead from a peg on the wall and made comforting noises as he disappeared inside. Soon he reappeared, leading a horse behind him.

It was a beautiful mare of a stouter build than the Arabian horses she had learned to ride. The animal’s hide was a deep unbroken brown, save for freckles of white along her muzzle. Ghada raised a single hand and waited for the mare to dip down and nuzzle her fingers gently.

“This is Ewn,” said Gawain. “Her owner died unexpectedly of sickness a month past.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Ewn,” said Ghada, now running her hand affectionately over the horse’s neck. “I promise to take good care of you.”

Ewn tossed her head, sending her dark mane flying. Ghada laughed.

“She seems to like you,” said Gawain with approval. “You’ll find tack along the wall over there,” he said gesturing to the south.

Before he could continue his explanation, a knight she had yet to be introduced to, appeared in the doorway.

“Palamedes?” Gawain paused, one hand resting on Ewn’s side. “What is it?”

“Artor has summoned the Alt Clut.” Palamedes had a rich baritone voice that warmed the air around her. She had no time to observe anything about him as he immediately ducked back out into the courtyard.

Gawain sighed and led Ewn back into her stall. “We best get going then,” he said to her before striding out of the stables. Ghada trotted behind him and followed him into the great hall.

Inside most of the Knights were already gathered around the round table, each at their designated place. She found the only open chair and sat down, knowing it was hers but still feeling trepidatious about making a mistake. A few servants were laying out provisions for them. She eyed a plate of honey cakes that had been set in front of the King and licked her lips. The maid from earlier caught her gaze with narrowed eyes and Ghada sat back in her chair, crossing her hands in her lap.

“Thank you all. I know it is a bit early for serious business.” Artor stood, his hands pressed to the surface of the table. “We have received word that the Saxon settlements in Cent Lond to our east have been gathering forces. I have been advised that they may be planning a cooperative assault in an effort to expand past the boundaries negotiated with my father.”

The faces around the table were grim. Ghada caught Mordred glancing her way and held his attention for a moment. His lips twitched in a smile that he quickly stifled as he turned his attention back to the king.

“Ser Luc and I have been in discussion. We think it best to cut off the head of the snake before it grows any longer.” Artorious nodded at the aged general.

Ghada took Luc in. Despite his years, he was still an intimidating man. His closely cut hair glinted at the temples with silver and the scar that lined his left cheek was surrounded by mimicking wrinkles. Yet she found something comely in him, perhaps it was the profound gentle nature of his gaze as if fell upon her.

“Hengist the Younger has brought it upon himself to finish what his father started twenty years ago.” Luc’s eyes shifted slowly around the table. “He has marshaled the chiefs of all the neighboring settlements. Aethelbert, in particular, has lent himself wholesale into the fight. This cannot be ignored. We must break the spirit of this expansion before it takes even an inch of our kingdom with it.”

There was a ‘hear hear’ from many of the Knights.

Artor cleared his throat and spoke again. “We will march to Belesduna. Our scouts have indicated that is where Hengist and Aethelbert are holding council. You have one day to prepare.”

With that, the meeting was adjourned and the Alt Clut dispersed.

Ghada watched as her father strode away from the table without even glancing her way. She lowered her head and gazed at her hands where they were clasping her knees tightly. Without realizing it she had started to tremble, the years of questions were building up to a pressure she could not ignore.

“Do you want me to speak with him?”

Ghada jumped as Mordred spoke. His tone was gentle, but she could not help the flush of shame that appeared on her cheeks.

“N-no,” she said firmly, despite the stutter.

Mordred sank down into the chair beside her at a leisurely angle. His stormy eyes watched her expression carefully.

“I have served with Bors my whole life. He taught me everything I know about riding.” He offered up this information casually and Ghada felt a prick of jealousy, “I could...persuade him to meet with you without him even realizing my subterfuge.”

Ghada glanced up at Mordred. A sly grin had slipped across his lips. She returned her gaze to her knees.

“I would rather he approach me of his own volition.” She felt silly saying it out loud but it was the truth.

Mordred made a neutral noise in his throat. There was a moment of silence before he stood, stretching to his full, lanky height. “Well...if you change your mind.”

Ghada said nothing as he strode away. Her eyes followed his retreating form from beneath her eyelashes. The hall was empty now, and she let herself relax for the first time that morning. She sighed languidly and slumped in the chair, planting her elbows on the table. With quick fingers, she plucked the last honey cake from its platter and shoved it into her mouth.

Art sources: 1| 2 | 3 |

#writeblr #spilled ink #writing #the bear king #writing exerpt #relevy writes

21 notes · View notes

rampantmuses · 5 years

Text

If You Want My Opinion, Which I’m Sure You Didn’t...

I’m 34 years young. I started on Tumblr well over five years ago. With that being said, I’d like to impart the following knowledge to the newest fandom I’m involved with involving the work of actor Cody Fern, knowing for playing the Antichrist Michael Langdon in AHS: Apocalypse, Duncan Shepherd in House of Cards, Jim Mason in the Tribes of Palos Verdes, as well as David Madson in The Assassination of Gianni Versace: American Crime Story.

Know that my words come from a place of love....and a crap tonne of experience in various fandoms. If you’d like a resume of my fandoms, just know I’ve survived fandom bollocks/nannies in the Cumberbatch, Hiddleston, and Seb Stan fandoms and I’m still here. I speak from experience. I’m not here to gatekeep...what I am here to do is share what I have seen and what can divide.

Don’t Be That Fan...

You don’t get brownie points for being a fandom nanny. The fandoms I’ve dealt with? None of the fans I ever dealt with or am still friends with liked the resident fandom nanny. If they did like them, they were usually sycophantic people who agreed with every word that came out of the nanny’s “mouth”. Why aren’t they liked? One good reason: they suck the life out of the tags. They act like their defence of whichever actor is so groundbreaking and helpful. Some have even gone so far to act like they’ve got a special connect with that actor (which is kinda disrespectful to the boundary between artist and fan...don’t do that either, know your role and know your boundaries). All that seems to accomplish is the fandom equivalent of a dog peeing on a tree. That’s not cute. The actor your defending the “honour” of can more than likely fend for themselves. They don’t need you to do it for them. Slow your roll.

Regarding Fan Fiction...

People will always have opinions about fan fiction. If you enjoy it: read it, share it, give feed back or constructive criticism. Help an author out if you can. Be supportive as best you can as it’s a medium that’s actually a craptonne of work at which people like to sneer.

If you don’t, I don’t know what to tell you. You may want to keep it from existing. However, it’s a public page, and until someone decides to remove fan fic from Tumblr, It may be best to ignore or block these blogs. Best motto is to live and let live.

If you’re in a prudish mode about erotic fan fic you may find in the tags? That’s all you. Self respect and sexual confidence are not mutually exclusive concepts that never meet. That’s an erroneous construct someone fed you and you ate it wholesale. They are a Venn Diagram that is a complete circle. If you have an issue with erotica in fan fic, again...block or ignore the blog. You never have to subject yourself to something if you choose not to seek it out.

Share and Share Alike? Back It Up...

If you have an opinion, share away. Don’t be surprised if someone calls you out. Just be prepared to back yourself up with facts. And by facts, I mean actual facts, not just more of your opinions. Opinion isn’t enough anymore, no matter how persuasive it is. Name calling nullifies your argument and makes you look like a child. Be better than that. Discussion will always lead to a better result than an online screaming match.

Golden Rule...Don’t Be a Bellend

Just...don’t be a dick. Life is chaos. Be kind. You’ll bring in more people with kindness that with prickish behaviour. I’ve made amazing friends through this site. I would like to think that we’d love to be that person made that impact on someone else. A new fan is looking for someone to share their enthusiasm with. Why not geek out with them?

If you’re doing good things, continue to do good. If you’re reading this and getting mad, chances are you’re throwing up walls instead of setting up a longer table for the fandom family to grow. At the end of the day, we’re all fans of an amazing person whose work we enjoy. Why be elusive and exclusive?

#fandom bullshit #fan fiction bullshit #I seriously hate gatekeepers #stop throwing up walls #bring in a longer table bish #michael langdon #cody fern #duncan shepherd

16 notes · View notes

earaercircular · 2 years

Text

Everyone’s Looking for Plastic. As Waste Rises, So Does Recycling

Plagued by plastic pollution, Senegal wants to replace pickers at the garbage dump with a formal recycling system that takes advantage of the new market for plastics.

A crowd of people holding curved metal spikes jumped on trash spilling out of a dump truck in Senegal’s biggest landfill, hacking at the garbage to find valuable plastic.

Nearby, sleeves rolled up, suds up to their elbows, women washed plastic jerrycans in rainbow colours, cut into pieces. Around them, piles of broken toys, plastic mayonnaise jars and hundreds of discarded synthetic wigs stretched as far as the eye could see, all ready to be sold and recycled.

Plastic waste is exploding in Senegal, as in many countries, as populations and incomes grow and with them, demand for packaged, mass-produced products.

This has given rise to a growing industry built around recycling plastic waste, by businesses and citizens alike. From Chinese traders to furniture makers and avant-garde fashion designers, many in Senegal make use of the constant stream of plastic waste.

Mbeubeuss — the dump site serving Senegal’s seaside capital of Dakar — is where it all begins. More than 2,000 trash pickers, as well as scrubbers, choppers, haulers on horse-drawn carts, middlemen and wholesalers make a living by finding, preparing and transporting the waste for recycling. It adds up to a huge informal economy that supports thousands of families.

Over more than 50 years at the dump, Pape Ndiaye, the doyen of waste pickers, has watched the community that lives off the dump grow, and seen them turn to plastic — a material that 20 years ago the pickers considered worthless.

“We’re the people protecting the environment,” said Mr. Ndiaye, 76, looking out at the plastic scattered over Gouye Gui, his corner of the dump. “Everything that pollutes it, we take to industries, and they transform it.”

Despite all of the efforts to recycle, much of Senegal’s waste never makes it to landfills, instead littering the landscape. Knockoff Adidas sandals and containers that once held a local version of Nutella block drains. Thin plastic bags that once contained drinking water meander back and forth in the Senegalese surf, like jellyfish. Plastic shopping bags burn in residential neighbourhoods, sending clouds of chemical-smelling smoke into the hazy air.

Senegal is just one of many countries trying to clean up, formalize the waste disposal system and embrace recycling on a bigger scale. By 2023, the African Union says, the goal is that 50 percent of the waste used in African cities should be recycled.

But this means that Senegal also has to grapple with the informal system that has grown up over decades, of which the grand dump at Mbeubeuss (pronounced Mm-beh-BEHSE) is a major part.

The recycled plastic makes it to enterprises of all stripes across Senegal, which has one of the most robust economies in West Africa.

At a factory in Thies, an inland city known for its tapestry industry to the east of Dakar, recycled plastic pellets are spun out into long skeins, which are then woven into the colorful plastic mats used in almost every Senegalese household.

Custom-made mats from this factory lined the catwalk at Dakar Fashion Week in December, focused this time on sustainability and held in a baobab forest. Signs were constructed out of old water bottles. Tables and chairs were made of melted down plastic.

The trend has changed the focus of the waste pickers who have worked the dump for decades, gleaning anything of value.

“Now everyone’s looking for plastic,” said Mouhamadou Wade, 50, smiling broadly as he brewed a pot of sweet, minty tea outside his sorting shack in Mbeubeuss, where he has been a waste picker for over 20 years.

Adja Seyni Diop, sitting on a wooden bench by the shack in the kind of long, elegant dress favoured by Senegalese women, agreed.

When she first began waste picking, at age 11 in 1998, nobody was interested in buying plastic, she said, so she left it in the trash heap, collecting only scrap metal. But these days, plastic is by far the easiest thing to sell to middlemen and traders. She supports her family on the income she makes there, between $25 and $35 a week.

Mr. Wade and Ms. Diop work together at Bokk Jom, a kind of informal union representing over half of Mbeubeuss’s waste pickers. And most of them spend their days searching for plastic.

A few days later, I bumped into Ms. Diop in her workplace — a towering platform made entirely of rancid waste that is so hostile an environment that it is known as “Yemen.” I almost didn’t recognize her, with her face obscured by bandannas, two hats and sunglasses, to protect her against the particles of trash blowing in every direction.

Around us, herds of white, long-horned cattle munched on garbage as dozens of pickers descended on each dump truck emptying its load. Some young men even hung from the tops of trucks to catch precious plastic as it spilled out of the trucks, before bulldozers came to sweep what remained to the edge of the trash mountain.

Most of the pickers who target plastic, like Ms. Diop, sell it, at about 13 cents a kilogram, to two Chinese plastic merchants who have depots on the landfill site. The merchants process it into pellets and ship it to China to be made into new goods, said Abdou Dieng, the manager of Mbeubeuss, who works for Senegal’s growing waste management agency and has brought a little order to the chaos of the landfill.

Senegal is flooded with other countries’ plastic waste as well as its own.

China stopped accepting the world’s unprocessed plastic waste in 2018. Casting around for new countries to export it to, the U.S. began to ship plastic to other countries, including Senegal.

But that is beginning to change, too, as the Senegalese government appears to be cracking down on plastic waste coming from abroad. Last year, a German company was fined $3.4 million when one of its ships was caught trying to smuggle 25 tons of plastic waste into Senegal.

In the past two years, the number of trucks coming to Mbeubeuss daily has increased from 300 to 500.

But the government says that in a few years, the giant landfill will close, replaced by much smaller sorting and composting centres as part of a joint project with the World Bank.

Then, most of the money made from plastic waste will go into government coffers. The waste pickers worry about their livelihoods.

Mr. Ndiaye, the last of the original waste pickers who came to Mbeubeuss in 1970, surveyed what has been his workplace for the past half-century. He remembered the large baobab under which he used to take tea breaks, now long dead, replaced by piles of plastic.

“They know there’s money in it,” he said, about the government. “And they want to control it.”

But Mr. Dieng, the government dump manager, insisted that the pickers would either be given jobs at the new sorting centres, “or we help them find a job that will allow them to live better than before.”

That doesn’t reassure everyone.

“There are many changes,” said Maguette Diop, a project officer at WIEGO[1], a non-profit organization focused on the working poor worldwide, “and the place of the waste pickers in these changes is not clear.”

For now, though, hundreds of waste pickers have to keep on picking.

Dodging bulldozers, piles of animal guts and cattle, with curved metal spikes and trash bags in their hands, they head back into the fray.

Source

Ruth Maclean : Everyone’s Looking for Plastic.’ As Waste Rises, So Does Recycling, in: New York Times, Jan. 31, 2022, https://www.nytimes.com/2022/01/31/world/africa/senegal-plastic-waste-recycling.html#:~:text=waste%2Drecycling.html-,'Everyone's%20Looking%20for%20Plastic.',main%20dump%20in%20Dakar%2C%20Senegal.

[1] https://www.wiego.org/

#recycling plastics #waste recycling #plastic waste

0 notes

wwfagseg · 3 years

Text

her mast a splintered ruin no taller than a dwarf

Marshall and Robert Reed as father and son lawyers. According to Rico, logistics have also caused tension between genders. Later that day, garbed and gloved once more, Connington made an inspection of the castle and sent word to Homeless Harry Strickland and his captains to join him for a war council. Players wore Chuck Taylor (Converse) All Star "sneakers." If you wanted good padding for your feet, you wore thicker, or two pairs of, socks. Jon mounted it, with Tormund Giantsbane at his side, and raised his hands for quiet. There is an inkling of history and romance cizme din denim about the description of this same Harry, who is thus publicly set up to be killed in any way that any of the negro-hunters of the swamps may think the most piquant and enlivening. Finally, full moon is an ideal time to see several lunar craters with the naked eye. Firstly, there is the ease of travel, being just five and a half hours from the UK by air and served by three airports. By the time the storm abated and the surviving passengers and crew came crawling back on deck, like pale pink worms wriggling to the surface after a rain, the Selaesori Qhoran was a broken thing, floating low in the water and listing ten degrees to port, her hull sprung in half a hundred places, her hold awash in seawater, her mast a splintered ruin no taller than a dwarf. 30 pendientes bulgari precio miles south of Carmel on Highway One. The state of the case shows conclusively that the contract had its origin in an offence against morality, pernicious and detestable as an example. That is good reasoning! I hope the editor will be brought to feel that wholesale wickedness is worse nike black tn 001than single-handed, and is infinitely harder to reach, particularly if of long standing. The galleys he renamed Ghost and Shade. The flight attendant's worried husband, Alex, is thrilled to learn that his wife is alive. Army Private Harold G. The restaurant sits a

Mens ADIDAS ORIGINALS

stone throw from campus and the menu is stacked with offerings such as the Crazy Alfredo, the Bronx Tale and Godfather favorite, with portions so big that they spill into the next day. The prospective graduate program had to meet two crucial requirements for Becky: to be practical and to fit well with her lifestyle as a young professional with a full time job.. Availability of these products may vary and more products will be added according to the size of the family. Mph cross wind. Patience, discipline and strategy are the main diet ingredients for this group, but certainly not exclusive to it. “He has not been,” she whispered mysteriously. Soon she would have only a tangle of kindling on her arm. At this moment the foot starts to push the body forward. He turned back to the red priestess. A big-bellied, shambling hulk of a man, the sellsword had a seamed face crisscrossed with old scars.

diadora focicipő

Subsequently, she was herself taken, and brought over to America; and, when the story of Jesus and his love was related to her, she immediately felt in her soul that this Jesus was the very friend who had spoken comfort to her yearning spirit in the distant forest of Africa.. “What must the difference be,” said Dr. All you people stand in your own light in that way. “Why, for love. We were really good in the air. “That may be. Only the dead were left behind. "Del Norte's a great team, a top tier team like we are," said the 6 foot 6 Witzel. After arriving at Auschwitz, Piasek and a friend saw a group of prisoners being pushed into a building with showers in it.. But it's so far out of my thought process right mickey egeres babakocsinow.. Although some Asian cultures can dish it out as well as the Italians, geographically, tolerance thresholds vary. Please bring finger

calça kickboxing

dessert or snack to share for the Oneg and non perishable food for the needy. Just excited we got it under way and it really a go at this point. His jaws closed on matted fur slick with hoarfrost, on a limb thin as a dry stick, but the one-eyed wolf clawed at his belly and tore himself free, rolled, lunged for him. The same, no. When the retros kabátok1981 1984 session of the school began the wives of the students were asked to design and make a hanging to go behind the Communion Table in

brassiere garcon

the school chapel. The Radeon Pro WX 4100 has 16 active compute units with a total of 1024 stream processors. Some of that has changed. She was startled and stepped back... If you are working with me, you must get something from me; and it shouldn't be the other way around. Both of them are still aircrew and fly about the aircraft. My daughter has abandoned me, has left my house with a lover, and I have cast her out of my heart — I cast her out once for all that very evening — you remember? If you have seen me sobbing over her portrait, it doesn’t follow that I want to forgive her. Shannon has given us permission to share it with readers.. 25 26, featuring services products for related to birth planning and children. The warmup continues Sunday with a high of 68. The cheapest diesel sits at the stronger end of that, and is expected to be worth 7,475 after that time.Suzuki admits that the SX4 S Cross didn't look enough like an SUV to target buyers in that sector looking at something like a Nissan Qashqai. Asha was still at Ten Towers taking on provisions when the tidings of her marriage reached her. You will always be in my heart with unconditional love. N. Clearly, your wife does not want the same of life as you do so she is willing to tolerate obnoxious dog barking. King County Sheriff John Urquhart pointed to section 46.61.755 of the Revised Code of Washington. Cleanup will be taught at the end of every class to ensure proper sanitary techniques are employed with hand washing as well as a safe and sanitary way to clean the kitchen. When that was done she sent her handmaids off as well. “It is still not too late to abandon this folly,” Gerris said, as they made their way down a foetid alley toward the old spice market. I mean, they'll rave about it with lugubrious weasel words, but I reckon those types don't really get it. Hoarfrost Hill and Rimegate still lacked garrisons, so Jon had asked their views on which of the remaining wildling chiefs and war lords might be best suited to hold them. For how long, though? What will happen when they grow too large for the pit? Will they turn on one another with flame and claw? Will they grow wan and weak, with withered flanks and shrunken wings? Will their fires go out before the end?. The clothing people work in really hot and botherd conditions. Rather than letting your low mood settle in for the season, usher in some winter bliss!It not uncommon to catch a case of the blues during the winter months. Kevan could make use of that precedent. Donna worked for Red Star and then the Auburn Police Department and the

air jordan aj4

Cayuga County Sheriff's Office as a 911 telephone operator. Trading require a desire to take risks and, of course, the ability to afford to take them. The tallest building on the planet is in Dubai; Tom Cruise was seen rappelling down its outer wall in one of the Mission: Impossible movies.

0 notes