#both our mothers came to check on us and then discovered the conversation we’d been having

[genderqueer-karma]

apparently my best friend does not find the fact that i suggested we go to the same frozen yogurt shop we went to five years ago after i confessed to being suicidal as funny as i do 💀

[diazevan]

Evan Begins Again

With the help of his family, Buck learns to love himself, flaws and all - which starts with reclaiming his given name.

Read on AO3

Words: 4436

Warnings: Mentions of past Self-Hate, Brief Injury Detail (on a call)

It starts with Eddie, but these things usually do.

Buck wishes he could be like Eddie, somebody who can freely speak his mind without fearing the fall.

When Eddie has something to say, he makes Buck listen, even if it's not something he wants to hear.

Discovering that he would become Christopher's legal guardian if his best friend dies prematurely was unexpected, but Buck welcomes it. 

The lengths he is willing to go for Christopher are infinite; he loves that kid like his own.

Strangely, that part of the conversation isn't what stuck or what keeps him up at night.

Being told that he's not expendable with such certainty, after a lifetime of believing that's all he is, has put his mind in a spin.

Maddie's told him that before, so has Bobby, Athena, Hen, Chimney, Albert, Taylor - everybody he cares about has, at one point, has told him that he's worth fighting for.

That wasn't anything new, but it's the way Eddie went about saying it, "Because, Evan, you came in here the other day, and you said you thought it would have been better if it had been you who was shot. You act like you're expendable. But you're wrong."

Evan.

Buck hates when people use his given name - well, at least he thought he did.

Hate wouldn't explain the warmth that spread across his chest when Eddie spoke his name, with just the right amount of love, with an unmistakable tinge of sass.

Aside from Maddie, whenever anybody says his name, he recoils like he's been burnt. He remembers his childhood, being reprimanded by his parents for his reckless behavior or called out by his teachers.

Whenever 'Evan' is used in a sentence, it isn't usually followed by words of affirmation.

Even with Maddie, she's adapted to using 'Buck' when she's proud of him or telling him how much she loves him. Emotions are high whenever she says, 'Evan,' like when he learned about Daniel.

"Evan, please don't leave. Just talk to me."

He talks to Dr. Copeland, and it's almost too easy for her to identify the problem.

'Buck' is meant to be a nickname, but it's bigger than that; it's a shield, a smokescreen, an excuse to hide his true feelings.

He separates himself into two; Buck gets to live while Evan suffers the weight of his hardships.

He can't keep doing that.

He has to face this problem, learn to love every piece of himself, even if it hurts.

If he doesn't, it will kill him.

Because one day, and soon, he'll become tired of 'Buck.'

The same way he did with Evan, then he'll be well and truly lost.

Things need to change.

***

It's a slow day, nobody's said anything to jinx that, yet, but the night is still young.

Athena has a day off; she's popped over like most Wednesdays, having helped Bobby with dinner.

Maddie surprises them all, dropping by with an excitable Jee-Yun.

Eddie and Chimney carry the stroller up the stairs while she holds Jee-Yun on her hip.

Taking his niece into his arms, Buck asks his sister, "How are you?"

The light in her eyes is brighter than the last time he saw her, "I'm better."

Buck sports his lopsided grin, "Good."

Jee-Yun jumps from person to person, delighted to be surrounded by her favorite people.

They settle on the couches; Jee-Yun stops on Maddie's lab, hit by the tired stick.

Buck sits, sandwiched between Bobby and Athena.

Maddie relaxes into the recliner while Chim perches on the chair's arm as he converses with Hen.

Hen and Eddie share a couch but have claimed separate ends; she sits nearer Chimney, busy discussing kindergarten admissions, which Buck can't believe, Jee-Yun's barely one.

Eddie is at the other end, listening to one of Athena's work stories.

Buck knows he should be involved, but he's lost track of where they were.

Everybody's conversations reach their natural ends - Buck leans in.

"Hey," He croaks - that's odd, his throat is tight, and he didn't realize.

All eyes are on him.

He fumbles with his fingers, "Can I ask you all something?"

Chimney shuffles forward, "Of course."

"Is everything okay?" Hen asks, eyes tracing over him.

Buck dips his head, "Yeah."

Athena takes his hand, "It doesn't sound it."

He insists, "Everything's fine."

"So," Eddie speaks gently, "What's up?"

Buck wonders if Eddie will catch on and understand that everything is changing because he is the first person in years, to remind Evan that he is worthy of love.

He clears his throat, "I want you to call me 'Evan.'"

The request is met by silence and pinched expressions of confusion.

"I'm still Buck," He blurts, "That's my nickname, always gonna be, but I was hoping that we could, like, switch between the two?"

"Okay," Bobby is cautiously gentle, "We can do that."

"It might take some adjustment time," Hen adds, "But of course, we can."

A weight shifts, "Cool, thanks."

"So, what's with the change?" Chimney asks, "I thought you hated your name?"

"I thought I did," He nervously rubs the nape of his neck, and his leg begins to bounce.

"Hey," Maddie sits up, startled, "You don't have to explain-"

Buck shakes his head, "You guys need to hear this."

Bobby presses his hand to Buck's knee, attempting to ease him.

"Talking with Dr. Copeland, I realized that in becoming Buck, I was trying to forget everything that came before," Buck explains, "It should just be a nickname, but it's not - it's a coping mechanism."

He locks eyes with a tearful Maddie, but she smiles with a nod, urging him to go on.

It's once in a blue moon when Buck opens up about how he's feeling.

"I can pretend that every bad thing that happened to me as Evan never happened," He continues, "Shitty childhood, bad friends, and Daniel..."

Everybody shifts uncomfortably on that note, especially Maddie, who draws her daughter closer to her chest.

Buck lifts his shoulders in a shrug, "But it doesn't work like that."

"No, it doesn't," Maddie speaks, quiet, "Those things leave a scar, Evan."

Hen speaks up, "An open one."

"I've never hated my name," Evan's lower lip trembles, "I hated me."

He expects pity or concerned gasps, but instead, he's offered understanding nods and intense gazes filled with love.

"I separate 'Evan' and 'Buck,' but they're both me," He cries, "Like with Buck, I've grown, changed for the better, have the family I've always wanted," Tears spill down his cheeks, "But Evan is buried, and I need to find me, again."

Maddie asks, "Because you feel loved as Buck but forgotten as Evan?"

He nods, "Yeah."

"Evan," Hen cries, her eyes wet with tears, "We love you completely."

Athena's gentle fingers grasp Evan's chin, her mouth curls into a smile, as tears freely fall, "Without a single string attached."

Buck breaths, "You promise?"

"We promise," Bobby reassures fast.

With a strangled sob, Evan crumbles, his shoulders sagging.

Bobby dives, collecting him in his arms.

Athena combs her hand through his hair.

Everybody moves, crowding him, in a hug.

Eddie kneels, gripping onto Evan's knee with all his strength, wrapping his arm around Hen, crouched beside him.

Hen grips onto Buck's forearm, her stance protective.

Chimney stands behind, hands resting on Buck's trembling shoulders.

Maddie takes the space beside Hen, taking Evan's hand, while she balances a half-asleep, confused, Jee-Yun on her knee.

Eddie speaks - his tone strong, "You're going to be okay, Evan."

***

It takes a month for the change to stick without the aura of awkwardness.

It is easy to get tongue-tied - in the beginning, there were many 'Buc-vans' and 'Ev-uk's,' but, at least he knew, they were trying.

After a couple of false starts, interchanging between 'Evan' and 'Buck' is set to stay.

Evan is sure that he's never been happier.

He stops over for dinner at Bobby and Athena's on Thursday nights.

While they're washing up, he gathers his shoes, slipping them on; he tries to be quiet, considering May's already in bed.

It's nearing midnight; he doesn't want to overstay his welcome.

"I better head home," Buck whispers, "Early start tomorrow."

"We have a free bed, you know?" Athena asks, gathering empty glasses off the dinner table, "Since Harry's with Michael."

"I wouldn't wanna intrude," He bends to do his laces

"Buckaroo, we invited you, remember?" Athena tells him, "Your apartment is almost an hour away—time you could spend sleeping."

Buck stops what he is doing and sighs with a grin; he knows exactly where this is heading.

"We're heading into a twenty-four shift, Evan," Bobby speaks warmly, "We'd feel better if you stayed."

Buck slips off his shoes, "I'll stay."

Athena shoots a smile in Bobby's direction, "There should be some pajamas for you in the drawers, the second row down," She instructs, "Your toothbrush is in the medicine cabinet."

"Thank you," Evan skips up the stairs, "Goodnight."

***

The following morning, Buck is woken by his seasonal allergies.

He's survived a truck explosion, a pulmonary embolism, and a tsunami, but hayfever still sucks.

He snags an antihistamine from their medicine cabinet and creeps into the kitchen, careful not to make any noise.

May's left for work - there's a note on the table explaining that she'll be late home as she's checking out her new apartment with Michael.

Buck's downing his second glass of water when Athena steps out of her bedroom, "Buck?" She questions, "You're up early."

Evan rubs his eyes, "Allergies."

Athena rests a hand on his back as she opens the fridge door, "You need an antihistamine?" He asks, "May's a sufferer too, so we're stocked up."

"I took one," He smiles - uncertain, "Sorry, I didn't ask."

Athena fixes him with her parental glare as she tuts with a laugh, "Evan, you don't have to ask," She assures, "This is your home too."

Evan stares at her, mouth dropping open, "Thanks."

His mother's words ring in his head; You're under our roof, Evan, so you have to respect our rules.

Growing up, his parents never once referred to their house as his home.

Athena pats his arm, "Come on, you're helping me with breakfast."

"Of course," He claps his hands together, "Where do you need me?"

***

Being called 'Evan' again by those he trusts is second nature, almost like things have never been any different.

Buck struggles to see the floor as he heads into May's new apartment, box in his arms, "Hey, May," He calls, "This box isn't labeled."

She rolls her eyes, "It is, but Dad covered it with tape," She tries to peel the corners off, "Again."

Michael defends, "I'm cautious."

"And I'll be spending the next two weeks trying to cut free my possessions," May taunts; she taps the top of the box, "Bedroom."

Buck nods, "Gotcha."

She smiles, "Thanks, Ev."

Warmth spreads over Evan's chest, he smiles, hanging his head; well and truly caught up in the euphoria of acceptance.

His pseudo-sister was the first to try 'Ev.'

It works. Buck loves it.

"Buck, can you help me in the kitchen when you're done?" Athena calls, "I'm gonna your help with these latches."

"Sure!" He places the box on the floor and turns into the kitchen.

Chimney, who is in the middle of constructing a bookshelf with David, turns, "Oh no, brace yourself," He taunts, "Fire Marshall Buckley is back!"

Buck remains straight-faced, "Ha."

"Why do I need these, Mom?" May quizzes, "I'm not a kid."

"We have around ten thousand earthquakes a year," Evan explains; he grabs the latches, "Things get broken. This is an added safety," He points to the windows, "Especially this high up."

May narrows her eyes, "So, what I'm hearing is that this was your idea, not Mom's?"

Buck nods, "I suggested it."

Athena squeezes his shoulder, "I accepted the suggestion."

May bops her head, "Oh, I see."

"Buck's got an eye for safety," Bobby praises.

Eddie walks in with May's ironing board, "Which is saying something."

Buck glares, "You're so funny."

Michael walks over, "Thank you, Evan," He says, all actively ignoring Eddie and Chimney's mischievous laughter, "Earthquakes aren't a thing I considered."

"You're not gonna remember everything," Evan holds up the latches, "If you want, I could set some of these up at your place."

"That would be wonderful."

Athena sports a fond smile, "It's like having our own personal handyman."

Buck jokes, "Well, if that's the case, you can all pay me."

***

Buck lays on his front, across Maddie and Chimney's carpeted ground, his eyes fixed on his niece.

She's busy chomping down on one of her many toys, but she stares at him with her wide brown eyes, fixated on his face, much like he is on hers.

Sometimes, even thirteen months into her life, he can't believe that his sister, and one of his closest friends, came together to make a human being.

"How can somebody be this cute?"

Maddie steps over, "Oh my, God," She laughs fondly, "She's covered in drool."

"That's fine," Buck gathers a cloth, wiping it over Jee's face, "She's still adorable, aren't you?"

Jee-Yun throws her hands in the air, "Yeah!"

"Yeah," Evan repeats, bopping her nose.

"Should I be worried about you two?" Maddie asks, sitting on the couch, "You're gonna be partners in crime."

"Just wait until we join forces with Christopher," He scoops his niece onto his knee, "It will be over for all of you."

"What is it about you, Evan?" Maddie asks, "The way she looks at you - the way everybody looks at you, it's like-"

He asks, curious, "Like what?"

"I don't know," She tilts her head, "Like you're the key to the mysteries of the universe."

He barks a laugh, "Maybe, I am."

Maddie grabs her book from the coffee table, "Chim thinks you're a trained hypnotist."

"No comment."

Maddie throws her head back with a laugh.

Buck turns to Jee, "Where's my nose?"

She reaches up, grabbing his nose.

"That's right!" He praises, "You're a genius."

Jee-Yun blabbers, "Ev-an!"

Maddie sits bolt upright, "Did she just?"

Jee-Yun knows a couple of words - Ma, Dada, No, Yes, but she's hasn't ventured any further.

Jee-Yun swings her arms around, "Evan!"

Oh, and he melts, a delighted cry catching in his throat.

His teary eyes meet Maddie's.

Every time someone utters his given name, Evan is one step closer to the light.

With Jee-Yun's soft squeal, he's out - the darkness now, a distant memory.

"Yes," He holds her up, "That's me!"

***

By Halloween, Evan barely notices the change - it goes to show how fantastic his family is.

He fishes out the insides of a pumpkin, humming 'This is Halloween' under his breath.

Hen's amused look bores into him.

He shakes his hands, "This is fun."

"How?" She laughs, "I once had my hand inside a man's chest, and somehow, this is worse."

Buck reclines his head with a laugh; he grabs a cloth, drying his hands.

"Hey, Evan!" Chimney sings from downstairs, "I need you and your abnormal height!"

"Again?!" Buck hollers back, not dropping his grin, "Chim, this is borderline exploitation!"

Hen bows her head, chuckling.

Buck hears the ladder being pulled out.

Hen raises her eyebrows, "You better go, Buck, or we'll be taking him to the emergency room."

"Oh," Buck runs, "Stop it, Chim, I'm coming!"

***

Buck's definition of a perfect weekend is spending it with the Diaz Boys - teasing Eddie endlessly and sneaking treats with Christopher, even though they both know that Eddie sees what they're doing.

Evan was apprehensive when Eddie suggested they took a trip to the carnival - rollercoasters, and crowds - reminded him too much of the calm before the tsunami.

He agrees to go - 'exposure therapy,' Eddie calls it, and Buck knows he's right.

It's okay, and they have a ton of fun.

Buck wins one too many prizes for Christopher, which Eddie ends up carrying, along with Christopher's crutches, but he doesn't complain.

It's easy to understand why Christopher wants to hold Buck's hand - he remembers the day at the Pier, too.

Knowing that the ocean is an hour away helps because at least that's not a natural disaster that could stop them in their tracks.

Thanks to the pandemic restrictions, there are fewer people, which eases the pressure further.

Sunset was almost two hours ago, and Christopher keeps yawning in-between words.

Without a second thought, Buck kneels, holding out his hands, "Here we go, buddy."

Christopher shuffles forward, tucking his face against Evan's shoulder.

Buck gathers him, letting Christopher tangle his legs around his middle before getting up, "There we go, I've got you."

Eddie smiles fondly, "We should head back to the car."

"Yeah," Buck sings, patting Christopher's back, "Which way is it?"

Eddie points, "That way, I think," He darts his head around, "Hopefully."

Buck snorts a laugh, "We'll find it, eventually."

Christopher is ten, he usually doesn't like being carried around anymore, but he settles in Buck's grasp, content.

Buck fears the day that they won't be able to scoop him up - he knows that anxiety is doubled, in Eddie's case.

"You okay with him?" Eddie whispers.

"Of course," Buck grins, "I'm legal guardian material."

Eddie scoffs a laugh, shaking his head.

"He's getting taller recently," Buck comments, "It's insane."

"Usually what happens with kids, Buck," Eddie teases.

"Ha, ha," Buck replies, monotone.

"Dad, Buck...." Christopher shushes, "I'm sleeping," He mutters.

Eddie bits his lip to conceal a laugh, "Sorry, bud."

"We'll keep it down," Buck adds, tapping his back.

Christopher tightens his arms around Evan, his head lulling on his shoulder.

"You okay there, bud?" Buck asks.

"Yeah," Christopher breaths sleepily, "You're comfy."

"Well, thank you."

Christopher goes quiet, and for a moment, Buck thinks he's fallen asleep, but then he speaks, "Love you, Evan."

Evan's breath catches sharply; he tightens his grasp, "Love you too, kid."

His family, Buck can't quite believe his luck - they're perfect, in every sense of the word.

***

Unfortunately, not every use of his given name comes at a happy time, but that would be beside the point.

'Buck,' 'Evan,' and even 'Buckaroo,' - they need to be used, freely, no matter the time of the day or what is happening. It helps; it means that he can't associate any of them with a particular emotion or trauma.

Evan scouts the roof of a decrepit apartment complex - that is, according to dispatch, set for demolition, but they've received calls about somebody being trapped on the top floor.

Time hasn't been kind to the structure, narrowing their time for a search and rescue.

So, starting from the roof and working down seems like the best bet.

Buck steps towards the door, the foundation creaks, dangerously loud under his foot.

He grabs Hen's low-hanging wrist as the roof gives way below them.

He doesn't remember what happens next.

With the dangerous nature of their jobs - Evan's name and all the possible variations are often uttered in worry.

He blurts awake with desperate rapid breaths; every ache and pain catches up with his concussed mind, "Hen?"

Hen's panicked voice cautions, "Buck don't move!"

The light is low, but he can see, despite the abundance of dust particles.

His back rests against debris; he can tell by the throbbing pain in his biceps that he didn't land in the position he was in, more likely manhandled into place.

He doesn't want to consider the time that Hen spent alone, waiting for him to wake, "Hen," He repeats - desperate.

"I'm here."

He lifts his head, "Are you hurt?"

She crawls into view, hauling her gear along with her, "I'm fine," She promises.

He traces his eyes over her - she's got a couple of scratches, but nothing too worrying, "We both fell?" He asks, confused.

"Yeah," She seems guilty, "But I was lucky."

"Why?"

She presses her fingers to his pulse point, "I had a soft landing."

"Yeah?"

"You."

"Oh," He laughs at the absurdity, "I'm an excellent crash mat."

She glares, "That's not funny."

"It kind of is," He offers her his dopiest smile, "Glad I saved you."

"Thank you," She kisses his forehead, "Now, stay awake."

His eyelids are heavy, "What about the victim?"

"Dead," She sighs.

Buck changes the subject, "What's wrong with me?"

"Broken arm," She lists, "Some blunt force trauma, and—" Her throat cracks; she can't say it.

"And?"

"Ruptured spleen," She sniffles, "I think."

Buck mutters, small, "Oh, that's not good."

She grips his hand, "All you've gotta do is stay awake, okay?"

He tries, but his eyes are heavy.

"Evan," She grabs his chin, "Please don't close your eyes."

"Hen."

"You're not dying on me," She orders, "I won't let you."

He smiles, weak, "Okay."

"I'm right here," She vows, "I'm not going anywhere."

He praises, "You're gonna be a great doctor."

"I know," She tells him, "You don't need to tell me that now, though."

"I have to, just—"

"Zip it, Buckaroo," She snaps lovingly, "We're getting out of here, you hear me? You're gonna help plan my surprise party when I graduate, and then we're gonna get drunk together."

"I'd like that."

She presses their foreheads together, "Just stay awake."

"I will."

***

Buck knows he's far too comfortable in hospitals; he is familiar with the staff and can easily snag an extra pudding at mealtimes, thanks to an older nurse who first treated him following his emergency tracheotomy and had on every subsequent visit.

Still, despite the laughs he has, he can't wait to escape - back to normality.

He folds his LAFD hoodie when Eddie swings inside, hand grasping the doorframe, "You ready?"

Buck turns his head, "Did you grab my meds?" He asks.

Eddie holds up a clear bag, "Right here."

"Thanks."

Eddie steps inside to place the medication into Buck's backpack; he then takes over, zipping up the bag.

Evan hums a laugh, "I can do that, you know?"

"I know," Eddie prods Buck's shoulder, "But we wouldn't want you to throw your stitches."

Buck perches on the bed, "Hen would kill me."

"Hen would kill us," Eddie corrects, "Mainly me."

Evan snorts, "Why?"

"I'm in charge of keeping you in line, apparently," He chuckles.

Buck hangs his head as he laughs, rubbing at the nape of his neck.

Eddie's tone turns sincere, "Are you alright?"

Buck's okay - really. The pain medication is doing its job, and he barely feels the ache in his side - what's on his mind is more complicated than that.

Eddie grips his shoulder, "Buck?" He fixes him with a concerned glance, "What's going on?"

He shrugs, "It's complicated."

Eddie sits, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I almost died," Buck lets go of a breathless laugh, "Again."

Eddie holds a hand in front of his face, failing miserably to hide a grin.

Buck's eyes widen, "What's so funny?"

"Sorry," He moves his hand away, "Just déjà vu - but last time, this was the other way around."

"It was," Buck confirms - the conversation is falling in the direction he needs it to go, "When you told me about your attorney and Christopher, I was scared. I never thought that anybody would trust me as much as you do; Christopher is your life, your everything, and I'm just me."

"You're you," Eddie repeats, softly stern, "That's why I made the decision."

Buck's shoulders sag, "I know."

"You fight for what you believe in, Buck, and you've never once stopped fighting for him," Eddie starts, "You almost killed yourself trying to find him during the tsunami," He takes a breath, "Hen told me about the well collapse; how one of the only words they could get out of you was Christopher's name. Your concern for him became your priority, even when he wasn't in any danger. I knew, then, that it was you because if I had died that day, you would have been taken away from each other, and that wouldn't have been right."

Evan's world would fall apart without Eddie, so would Christopher's - at least together, they'd have somebody to cling onto.

"If I die on this job," Eddie continues, "I'll die knowing that you two have each other."

Tears glisten in Buck's eyes, "So, that's why you changed your will."

"Yeah."

Buck settles his hands on his rocking knees.

Eddie questions, "Is there something else?"

Evan nods deliberately, "When I get hurt, Maddie can get a little short with me."

"She's afraid of losing you."

"Of course," Buck fidgets, locking his fingers together, "Maddie's lost too much. She's already had to stand by, watch our brother die, and live with the fallout. The decisions my parents made when they had me."

Eddie hisses, "Buck—"

"I know, I am wanted," He assures, "By her, by you, by the team - but this isn't about that."

Eddie's expression relaxes, glad that he doesn't have to lecture Buck on his importance again.

"It's just," Buck sighs, "Maddie latches to those she loves, and she can't let go - I wouldn't want to put her in a place where that is her only option."

Eddie brow furrows, "I'm not following."

"I'm going to make an amendment to my living will," Buck concludes, the space between each breath grows shorter.

"What amendment?"

He lowers his head, "I'm going to give you power of attorney."

Eddie's face softens, "Oh."

"Maddie has it right now," Buck scratches at his cheek, "But I've spoken to her about changing it."

Eddie's eyes widen, "You have?"

Evan nods, "It was my parents before, but they don't know me, well enough, to make the right decisions, but you do - and I know that you'd be strong enough to make them."

"Evan," Eddie meets his gaze, "I can do that, for you," He vows, "And, I understand not wanting Maddie to make those decisions, but what about Bobby?"

"I thought of Bobby, but then I remember—"

Eddie realizes, "His kids." Bobby is one of the strongest men they know, but if he was ever faced with the decision to take Buck off life support, he'd crumble under the weight of it all.

"I know this is big and that these decisions would hurt you," Evan croaks, "But I have faith that you could make them."

"I could," He confirms, "Evan, if I die, you become my son's legal guardian, and I'm sure that wasn't easy for you to process because yes, I trust you, but in that scenario, I'm dead," He lifts his shoulders in a shrug, "If you could do that, I can do this."

Evan leans, gathering his friend in his arms, "Thank you," He whispers, gripping tight, "For everything."

[sneksue]

Official Post About Lifestyle Changes

The date is January 28, 2021. 

I have not had chickens for a while. It will be 2 years in August. I have been meaning to write something here about all of it, but I either have not had time, or the willpower to go through with it. I was in grieving. 

In June of 2019, I took a trip from my shared homestead in Mississippi to Colorado to do some long distance hiking. I left all of my animals in the care of my ex husband’s mother and her then boyfriend. 

I trusted them to at least do the bare minimum in my animal’s basic care. 

That didn’t happen. They failed night after night to close and lock the coop’s door. They wouldn’t change their water during the day and they did not collect eggs. 

When I had service on my phone during the hike, I checked in with them to find out that because they had not closed or locked the coop door at night, several birds were “missing”, with more missing every day. 

Instead of simply closing the door and providing a safe space for my dear, darling animals to sleep at night, they decided to buy a game camera to see what was happening to them at night. 

Their reasoning had absolutely zero logic, and I was pretty pissed.

They found that raccoons were simply just waltzing into the coops and grabbing birds. The raccoons would drag them away into the woods and feast. 

By the time our trip was almost over, all of my ducks were gone. There were only a few chickens left, and the guinea fowl were all intact due to roosting 50ft up in oak trees. My cat was also “missing”.

I was heartbroken, devastated. I had spent so much money, time, energy, and love to build this flock. I wanted to provide my “family” and myself with sustainable, renewable food in case of a natural disaster. No one seemed to value my efforts, or even care to see what my end goal was. 

On top of grieving for the loss of my feathered babies, my then husband’s younger brother decided to GO OFF on me during our drive back to Mississippi. He claimed I was selfish, psychotic, uncaring, and manipulative. He screamed at me while we were all stuck in the car. He called me a bitch, he called me a liar, he called me a leech. I was stunned in silence. I had been struggling with my mental health for years, and had contemplated suicide more times than I could count. So, it is no surprise that while we were driving 70mph on the interstate, I seriously contemplated opening the car door and leaping out into traffic. 

I turned to my husband, my partner, the love of my life, my support system, to back me up. Defend me. Tell his brother that he was wrong. My husband did nothing of the sort. He remained silent as the verbal barrage from his brother continued. 

Everything clicked for me then. My mother in law was a complete nutcase, she blamed me for all of my husband’s shortcomings. She viewed me as a failure for not being the perfect housewife. She only saw me as a burden on her son’s happiness. My husband maintained an emotional distance from me for several years. He refused to be intimate towards me. He never showed an interest in me, my thoughts, my feelings. He never stood up for me or was proud to show me off. He never commended my strengths and triumphs, he only pointed out what he viewed were my failures. My brother in law was more of a nutcase than his mother, physically abusing his dog and neglecting his cat, leeching off of his mother and getting handouts at every possible opportunity, spending his days smoking hundreds of dollars of marijuana, drinking booze, playing videogames. 

I had no social life, I wasn’t allowed to have a social life. 

I had no friends I could hang out with, all of my friends were online. 

No matter how much I did for these people and how much I excelled at everything I did, nothing was ever enough. I was never enough. 

No wonder I struggled with mental health, eh?

I came to this realization instantaneously, and demanded to be dropped off at my dad’s house in Westminster, CO. 

I had none of my personal belongings besides my hiking and camping stuff. I didn’t care, I just had to get away from these toxic monsters. 

My husband and I loosely decided that this would be a “break” for our relationship, and that he would go back to MS to work and save up to move here with me. I agreed and I began working and saving up myself. 

We both knew he was never going to come here. We were never going to be together again. 

We remained in close contact for a few months after the separation. But the contact and our conversations became fewer and less substantial. 

One night, as I was walking home from work, I called and told him that I thought we should break up. He admitted to me that he had removed his wedding ring over three weeks prior. I was understandably hurt by that, but I did understand. 

He also informed me that all of the birds were gone or dead except for a couple roosters. 

I was more devastated by the loss of my birds than the loss of my marriage. If that doesn’t tell you enough, I don’t know what does!! 

My cat never returned. 

I asked him if we could keep in contact, and he told me he did not want to talk to me or hear from me for several years. I was once again hurt by this, but with his own mental health issues, I again, understood. He did say he can see us being friends in the future, but now that its been some time, I don’t want to be friends with him. I want the best for him, but I can’t bring myself to expose my mentality to his toxicity and negativity. 

I asked again and again, over a period of months, for him to return my belongings. He kept putting it off. I told him I was going to drive down there myself and gather everything i could and dispose of the rest. 

He agreed, initially, then banned me from coming only after I requested the time off from work and had friends to accompany me on the journey, He promised he’d send all my stuff in several shipments after he sold my car. I told him he could keep the profit from the sale of my car and use it to send me my stuff. 

He ended up sending me ONE box of my stuff. And most of it wasn’t even mine. I was appalled and disgusted that he’d be so careless and inconsiderate. 

I sent him messages and requested SPECIFIC items after I received the first box. I got no reply, and no more packages to this day have been sent. 

He and his family stole my property, killed my pets, and broke my heart. 

Thieves, liars, and extremists, the lot of them. 

I grieve daily for the loss of my animals and the torture I was put through for nearly 6 years. 

All of that out of the way, let me move on to tell you what this blog will now feature. 

I have obviously had a change in lifestyle. I no longer live on homesteading land, I live in a roomy two bedroom apartment with my AMAZING fiance. 

My love of chickens, I discovered, was a love for reptiles in general. Cuz birds are reptiles and all that jazz. 

When I met my fiance, I was already blown away by his attitude, confidence, and view on life right off the bat! He inspired me, made me want to be better to myself. 

Meeting him felt weird, at first. It felt weird because I was waiting for this amazing person to... have a catch. There’s gotta be a red flag somewhere. And if there isn’t... he is probably a psychopath who will eventually turn on me and kill me. No one is that... good. 

So I thought to myself, “Welp, gotta find out. I’ll go to his house!”

He had a couple little snakes in his room which I demanded to play with. He happily got them out and I was like “THAT’S the catch? Nah, this just convinces me this guy is... my kind of guy.” 

I’ve had a love of snakes since early childhood. Not an interest of passion, but I truly loved interacting with and watching them. I’ve never had an innate fear of any insect, (exclude honeybee, because I didn’t know better at 6 years old), or animal. I love them all and everything they do to contribute. All they experience. 

I used to catch wild garter snakes and rat snakes in nets, pet them, show them to my mother occasionally to freak her out, and release them. Then watch them. 

There were a mating pair of Oteekee Corn Snakes in my HS yard. Every summer we’d see them, out and about hunting, hiding, climbing... growing. They were bright red and jet black with specks of yellow. I could tell these guys were pretty smart and maybe there was more to snakes than I really thought about ever. 

So, being sold on this amazing guy, we up and moved in together. Nice. My paycheck kept going up and up. I was saving a ton. I wanted a car and an apartment as soon as possible. 

I got bonus after bonus for working hard at my job and everyone hitting labor targets. 

We got a place. Nice. 

Both got steady jobs. Nice. 

There’s uh, a lot of room in this new place. Nice. 

Hey it’s my birthday and I can get myself a snake. I have more than enough for supplies and the animal itself. 

I browsed on morphmarket for what felt like ages.... 

I had no idea that there were.... so many complicated genetics with ball pythons. I was highly interested, because if you know me, you know I’m interested in genetics and selective breeding. 

I found there were THOUSANDS of genetic combinations, each with unique names. It was like alien code. The animals were beautiful but I had no idea what I was really looking at. 

One night while going to our local reptile store to get feeder rats, I was looking around at all the glass window babies, as I usually do. 

I made my way around the scorpions, tarantulas, cave scorpions, frogs, lizards, the store’s companion burmese python, and my eyes landed on a little... adorable puppy-eyed baby ball python. The signage stated that it was a Puma. Seemed simple enough. Easy name to remember. I looked into the glass at the lil noodle, and talked all baby talk and shit. The sweet little thing came right up to scope at me, then yawned. 

I called an employee over and said I’d like to handle this animal right here. The employee obliged and I fell in love. Sexed as male. Easy buy. 

I cried on the way home, It was amazing. I have one picture on here of him a few days after I got him. His name is Mallow, and he is bigger now, but still just as sweet. 

So yeah. It went from there. Now, including the boa and ball python that are my fiance’s, and Mallow, we have added 3 more to our family. We are done now, as these animals may live a loooooong time. And they require space and attention just like any other pet. They’re not expensive, and they’re low maintenance care is nearly brainless if you set it up right. They’re statistically and actually safer than dogs or cats, and are absolutely therapeutic and entertaining. 

This blog will from this day forward be dedicated to snake content, reptile content, and a lot more fun, actually good pictures. I will also share genetic related stuff I find relevant. 

Not having a shitty phone camera is pretty great, tbh. 

TLDR: No more homestead. Ex is evil (yeah yeah), New place new animal new me. SNAKES! SNAKES!!!! SNAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKKKEEEEESSSSS!

I know this post is just for me but whatever, if I make myself laugh. Cool. G’night. 

[annavolovodov]

ya girl saw the downton movie and has some Thoughts

if you followed me at all from 2011-2015 then you'll know i am firmly Team Downstairs and did not want this movie to happen, just so you all know what position i'm coming from here.

everything below is gonna be spoilery af. if you haven't seen it yet and want info just hmu. if you have seen it and want to talk about it please message me bc i’m always up for chatting about Downton.

okay but the title sequence with the music building and cresting as we come up over the hills and get our first shot of downton... goosebumps. tbh i don't know shit about film making but i can't fault the technical aspects (costumes, music, cinematography). the impact of the increased budget was felt from the very first second.

for the plot i’m gonna split things by character to make it easier. i’ll probably go to see it again and maybe after that i’ll have some deeper Thoughts but i missed being able to liveblog during the film so enjoy my rambling first reactions.

upstairs peeps

everything with violet was iconic. i'm glad that they didn't neglect her relationship with isobel and ofc maggie and imelda played fantastically off each other. pretty much everyone has already highlighted the scene with violet and mary at the end and it tied things up perfectly between them. violet and mary are so so similar and violet has been pushing for her to inherit since before S1. the movie showed us that mary is basically running the estate even if she doesn't get the the title and i can totally see why violet is confident in the future of downton now. that being said, i don't think violet will actually die. maggie has been talking about leaving since 2012 and fellowes obviously put this in as a get-out clause for her should she want to go, but i reckon they’ll convince her to do more. if carson's palsy can be mysteriously cured, so can violet's conveniently vague illness.

i already knew that robert and cora weren't gonna be in it much, but i wish we could've seen cora finding out what was happening with edith and helping her out. it wouldn't surprise me if there was a deleted scene there cause that whole storyline felt a little disjointed. i completely forgot that cora knew about the pregnancy and was so confused at how the queen foud out about it all. i don't think we got anything in robert and cora's bedroom, or anything with cora/baxter and robert/bates, which would've also been very welcome but i guess they can only fit in so much.

onto mary: this may be an unpopular opinion but god i miss her long hair. yeah i know it wasn't the style of the time but her wig in this one was tragic and they need to fix it. i absolutely love that t*lbot didn't exist for a solid 95% of this movie and mary got her rightful place ruling downton. i wouldn't say i’m the biggest mary fan but her arc felt like one of the more satisfying ones of the movie imo.

as someone who has been firmly #teamedith from day one i am delighted to see my girl happy and successful. literally all her outfits were A+ and not to be gay on main but those scenes of her in her nightclothes getting ready for bed gave me my rights. i’m sad that she seems like she's either given up her magazine or has less of a role in it now based on what they said outside???? she did seem unsatisfied with aspects of her position so hopefully she'll go back to doing some writing and publishing cause that was a good fit for her, and if edith and bertie are “modern” enough to travel without servants surely edith moving away from traditional grand lady duties and back to her magazine that wouldn't be an issue. 

the mention of sybil being gone seven years? yeah. thanks for the pain. tom accidentally saving the monarchy on no less than two occasions is the ultimate "congratulations you played yourself" moment but the fact he thought the army had sent someone to check up on him is the level of republican i'm trying to be on. i'm a bit ehhhh on his relationship with lucy, mainly cause i'd rather the screentime given to the newbies had went to established characters. but like sybil/tom was a wholeass epic romantic slowburn spanning several years through a war and across class divisions n shit and meanwhile lucy/tom have known each other for forty eight hours and had three conversations in a hallway so like obviously that’s just gonna pale in comparison????? like it just is???? i guess i don't hate it but it just was a bit unnecessary and the time coulda been spent on better things.

isobel didn't have all that much to do on her own but i appreciated her scenes with violet and i love that she was the one to figure out that lucy was lady whatever's daughter. penelope wilton's facial expressions during some of the exchanges with violet were great. i see lord merton has also undergone a miraculous recovery from his apparently serious anaemia but he also didn't appear much which was a big win for me!

team downstairs aka the ones i turned up to see

as a downstairs supremacist who has watched the screentime distribution in previous fifty two eps of the show, it’s fair to say i had low expectations going in. i expected a grand total of 10 minutes for the servants combined and i think that's why i was unexpectedly happy with what we got. ideally we would've ditched the subplots involving the personal lives of the royals and all the stuff w imelda staunton and her maid but oh well it could’ve been worse and i'll take any breadcrumbs i can get. anyway i'm eagerly awaiting the team downstairs cut of the film one of yall will hopefully make when the dvd comes out. the only part that was far, FAR too upstairs heavy for me was the last sequence of the film after the royals left and i think we would've benefitted from rounding things off with team downstairs after the ball.

so i guess retirement magically cured the palsy carson had, but i guess after matthew’s miraculous recovery anything can happen at downton when it comes to health. Fellowes is getting a free pass for retconning this one cause i cba with more death/loss. mary going to carson for help and him immediately coming to her aid was very sweet. kinda wish we'd find out what he was up to post-Downton (except for his gardening) tho.

i was expected zero carson/hughes content in this movie and yet !!!! and yet!!!!!! we were somewhat well-fed. like carson (incorrectly) thinking he can control the other servants and mrs hughes' "oh that went well charlie, start as you mean to go on" hdjksjs i love them. and the lil scene in their cottage ugh. also we got more of them using their first names and yeah i guess that makes sense given they've been married for a while now but as i said, i had low expectations.

mrs hughes is still like the best person ever but wbk. her vs. the royal housekeeper = iconic. i kinda felt bad for royal whatsherface in some ways because she clearly didn't know who she was up against THE elsie hughes who has vanquished much scarier foes in her time. the other servants were never gonna win that battle.

the 0.5 seconds of baby bates *chef's kiss* perfection. god i am slightly bitter it was only 0.5 seconds given the fuckin multiseason journey leading up to his birth. tbh we should've ditched everything involving the personal lives of the rando new characters and let baby bates have some of that time but fellowes loves upstairs too much to let that happen. the small interaction was adorable though and i'm glad the mention of his name was subtle enough that we can retcon it cause i truly believe anna and bates would've came up with a more creative choice than that. genuinely i'm so curious about their whole living situation and how they cope with a smol child while working full time but i doubt fellowes even considered that so y’know. what can we do. i enjoyed the breadcrumbs but i wanted more.

i did go into this film with the mindset of "something awful will probably happen to anna or bates," cause that's what usually happens in these things but plot twist!!!! we saw them smile on multiple occassions!!!! what a nice change for us all! i swear every time anna bates smiles an angel gains their wings. her scenes with mary were good and i'm happy their friendship made it into the film. you know what else i was happy to see? the EXTREMELY UNDERRATED brotp between anna and baxter. there was a couple of moments with them standing next to each other or talking to each other and it warmed my heart. like yass two of my fave people are friends. it's a big win for me. 

i'm sure i read something about brendan being involved in another project which meant he couldn't film too much (i'm curious to whether this impacted the lack of baby bates scenes?) and while it's true that bates didn't have a ton of scenes, i didn't feel like he was absent which was good.

thomas had the best storyline imo. i don't blame him for being angry that mary brought in carson and it was actually very iconic of him to go off in the library like that. i found it hilarious that while everyone else was panicking at downton he went off on gay adventures. i really wish we'd gotten this "thomas makes a gay friend then discovers the village's underground gay scene THEN gets a boyfriend" in the show cause that would've been SO MUCH BETTER than some of the other stuff that got stretched out across the last couple series (like the love quadrangle with daisy/ivy/alfred/jimmy). like, imagine thomas’ movie plot as a series-long arc. the impact. i liked the guy that was his maybe-boyfriend and i hope any continuation keeps that relationship going.

mrs p and daisy continue to be the mother-daughter duo of the century. i thought both of them were supposed to be moving to the farm post-S6 but i suppose that would've meant they wouldn't be in the film hence why it didn't come to fruition. i guess they could all move once daisy and andy get married. mrs patmore didn't get a great deal to do but i still feel like i saw her a fair amount. comrade daisy was awesome and is definitely me when i see any monarchy-related stuff. somewhere over the last few seasons she's developed into one of the most interesting characters in downton and we don't talk about that enough. andy trashing the boiler was immature af but at the same time i feel like it completely makes sense for daisy to take that as a compliment. it’s just such a daisy thing to do?????

now, there is one thing i kinda fucked up here. while i went into the film with low expectations for everyone else, i fully expected baxley to be A Thing because how could i not and boy did i come out looking like boo boo the fool. i guess baxter and molesley have continued the tradition of Agonisingly Long Downstairs Slowburns which would be okay if we were still getting one season per year but is quite frankly rude when we're on rationed content like this. the first half of the film i thought it was gonna be revealed that they were together or something but then that scene at the end implied they're dancing around each other and my god is it frustrating. i would give so much to trade tom and lucy's romantic subplot for a baxter/molesley one but once again i know that's an unrealistic dream.

definitely not enough baxter in general but that one shot of her, anna and mrs hughes standing in the same frame was worth the price of my cinema ticket. still love molesley even tho he's a monarchist.

in terms of the overall downstairs stuff, i'm euphoric at seeing all these people interact with each other again. as we all know, found family is the best trope and since the servants are literally the epitome of that every moment focussed on them is like chicken soup for my weary soul. was the revolution against the royal servants realistic? no. was it realistic for the two people who came up with most of the plot to be the ones who went to jail for doing literally nothing wrong and would therefore want to avoid stuff that could get them in trouble with an all-powerful family? also no! however, seeing downstairs all working together for a common goal is content that appeals directly to me and i am thankful.

shoutout to the last scene which is the best way the movie could've ended it for me. use of first names AND walking home together? thank u fellowes.

tldr; team downstairs fan who was strongly anti-movie, went in with low expectations, was pleasantly surprised.  there are a shit ton of things i’d change but i just really loved seeing these characters who all mean so much to me again. obviously the only reason this film happened was for financial reasons rather than a desire to continue the storyline (cause the finale tied things up perfectly imo) but i wish they'd done a two-part miniseries instead to ensure everyone gets some screentime. two ninety minute specials every few years would work much better if everyone wants to keep downton going but i guess that doesn't bring the cash in like a movie does.

[anistarrose]

Fateful Detours - Ch. 3 (Gravity Falls x Infinity Train)

Summary: Memories are relived, conversations are had, and two journeys come to an end.

Warnings: flashbacks to Filbrick being an abusive father, non-graphic descriptions of pain/injury

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20331070/chapters/48205837

(The Beginning) (The Middle)

Here we are at the final chapter! This has been a very fun crossover to write, and this chapter is easily my favorite in the whole fic.

(Do note that the content warnings have gotten a little heavier for this chapter, but it’s no darker than the Gravity Falls canon.)

***

Stan wasn’t sure what to expect when he looked at the TV. The Cat had said it contained everything that made Ford Ford, so some part of his mind couldn’t help but imagine a swirling vortex of sketch-filled journals and science textbooks, of broken inventions and bitter parting words.

But instead, he found himself standing in a plain white hallway, staticked-out silhouettes flickering on every wall. Some were abstract, like random interference, but others felt more familiar, like compasses or bags of snack food. Or like a ship’s mast with two makeshift flags hung from it.

Stan checked his hand, and saw that his number was still there.

81

“Ford?” he called out. “Are you in here?”

Not only was there no response, but the sound of the static grew a little louder, as if trying to drown out his voice.

“Couldn’t be that easy, huh,” he muttered as he set off down the hallway. “I’ll just have to find him myself, then.”

At the end of the room was a wall of pure static, crackling and roaring incomprehensibly. But for a moment, Stan could swear he heard familiar voices conversing on the other side, and as they faded out, he put his ear up to the wall to listen more closely —

His hand ever so slightly brushed the surface, and it immediately collapsed under the pressure, its strange gravity dragging him through the ripples of static and into a bright, colorful scene. Stan’s head spun, and it took him a moment to get his bearings — but there Ford was, he realized, just down the stairs and in front of him with his back turned. Safe and sound, and rubbing his chin like he was conscious and alert.

Just as Stan was about to speak up, two hushed voices beat him to the punch. They came from a pair of familiar figures just a few feet in front of Ford…

It was Stan and Ford themselves, aged eleven, standing in front of their middle school lockers.

“C’mon, Sixer! No one will notice, I guarantee it!”

“But if we do get caught, they’ll give us failing grades for sure! It’s a big risk to take…”

Young Stan made pleading eyes. “Please? I’m going to fail math anyway if we don’t try something…”

“Alright,” young Ford agreed reluctantly, taking his glasses off and handing them over to Stanley. “I’ll take your math test.”

Stan suppressed a chuckle as he watched the younger version of his brother squint awkwardly as he adjusted to the lack of glasses, but the real Ford just shook his head with a sigh.

“Selfish as always,” he muttered, and the scene changed.

Stan and Ford, aged fifteen, stood outside the local movie theater. Both of them were sorting through their pockets for change, and neither was coming up with much of anything.

“I’ve only got enough for one ticket.”

“Same here.”

“And you want to waste it on some raunchy comedy we’d have to lie about our ages to even get into?”

“If the only other option is some over-the-top sci-fi flick, then yeah! I do!”

“Stan, I have been waiting the better part of three years for this movie! I’ve been theorizing about the plot for three years, and if you think I’m not going to see it opening night —”

Stan threw an arm over Ford’s shoulder. “It’s gonna be packed opening night, Ford. You really want to see the first screening, where all the other rabid fans are there and talking so loud that you can hardly hear the actors?”

Ford frowned. “I don’t know…”

“And what did we end up doing?” the real Ford asked, shaking his head. “Seeing his choice of movie! Because he only ever cared about himself, and I just went along with it!”

As Ford waved his hands in the air, Stan caught a glimpse of his number shooting up:

225

257

288

340

…

“I went along with it,” Ford repeated, “until…”

Their surroundings wavered, sidewalk morphing into carpet as street lights flickered and turned into familiar lamps from the Pines family household.

“No.” Ford shook his head. “Not this, not again…”

361

In a burst of static, the scene shifted once again, this time to a high school hallway.

“...Sixer? You okay?” Stan choked out.

Ford didn’t even look away from the memory.

Skipping class, getting caught sneaking out of the school, being sent to detention.

“He always just dragged me down,” Ford growled.

381

Working on the boat instead of studying for an upcoming chemistry exam.

“I should’ve cut him off a long time ago.”

415

Two science fair projects sitting side by side — one, a non-functional robot, the other, an invention that should’ve revolutionized the world.

“I always knew that I’d be better off without him.”

472

491

518

“So that’s really what you think about me,” Stan whispered. Ford gave no sign of having heard him.

He reached for Ford’s hand, but without even turning around, Ford swatted him away.

550

And Stan…

Stan had been prepared for Ford not to forgive him. Stan had been prepared to drag Ford out kicking and screaming.

He hadn’t been prepared to hear that Ford had never wanted him around in the first place.

“You know what?” he shouted. “FINE!!”

It wasn’t fine, no matter how loud he screamed that it was.

“You can be better off without me right here, in this fucked up horror movie television, for the rest of all eternity! See if I care!!”

Ford didn’t flinch.

“SEE IF I CARE!” Stan repeated, whirling around and storming off towards the edge of the memory.

He didn’t look at his hands, but if he had, he would’ve seen his number jumping up:

106

160

195

He didn’t look back at Ford either, but if he had, he would’ve seen that Ford’s number was no longer visible, because his hands and arms had become obscured by a shifting pattern of static.

“I never needed him,” Ford mumbled, his voice crackling with interference. “I never needed anyone.”

Everything was white, and everything was blurry. It was white because Stan had at some point, without realizing it, made his way back to that first empty hallway he’d found himself in, and it was blurry because he had long since given up on trying not to sob.

He knew, instinctively, that from this room he could leave whenever he wanted simply by willing it to happen, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He may have been a liar through and through, sometimes out of selfishness and sometimes out of necessity, but he’d told the Cat the truth. If he left Ford here, he’d never forgive himself.

He slumped to the ground, pulling his knees close to his chest. Years ago, his mother had told him that dwelling on an issue would always be more painful, in the long run, than any choice you could make to try and change the situation — and after he’d gotten kicked out, he’d tried his best to take that advice to heart, and focus on things he could do to turn his life around.

But now, he wasn’t so sure her advice rang true. He only had two choices — trying to find Ford again and save him, or abandoning him for good, and he knew both of them would just hurt him more than he could ever possibly bear.

Everything hurt. Every happy memory he’d once desperately longed to relive just hurt now, corrupted by the knowledge that Ford had never really been happy in them. That Ford had never truly wanted him around.

Even back during the happiest summer of their lives, when they’d discovered —

Stan covered his ears as a burst of static rang through the room like a clap of thunder. Still sitting on the ground, he turned to face the wall he’d previously had his back to…

And there it was again — the silhouette of a ship’s mast that he’d glimpsed on the way in, two children’s t-shirts flying from it like flags. But this time, the whole ship below it was visible too, bobbing up and down as choppy waves of static battered its hull.

Stan outstretched a hand towards it, his number obscured beneath his palm, and a blast of salty ocean air struck him in the face as the world exploded into color.

He stood on the bow of the Stan O’ War — the completely repaired, seaworthy Stan O’ War, its deck polished and cabin furnished — and faced a tropical coastline, dotted with emerald palm trees and surrounded by vivid pink coral reefs. A colossal volcano rose above the horizon, with a plume of smoke and ash lazily drifting away from the crater at the top, and beneath the crystal-clear waves Stan could spot a pair of sea turtles following the ship, keeping their distance but eyeing it curiously.

Which was all very confusing, because Stan couldn’t remember visiting a place like this and was fairly certain Ford hadn’t either…

The moment that thought popped into his head, his surrounding began to change. Colors grew less vivid, his depth perception failed him, and shadows vanished altogether as the scene reverted to a cartoonish state, complete with dialogue bubbles and sound-effects written out in familiar handwriting.

Stan stood in the pages of a comic book he’d drawn eight long years ago, currently held by the memory of a ten-year-old Ford.

“You really think we’ll get to go on adventures like this one day?” Ford asked, but he didn’t sound skeptical. If anything, he sounded wistful, like he wanted to believe it.

The young Stan from the memory watched with a satisfied smile as Ford flipped through the comic. “I don’t think it. I know it.”

The scene shifted, and Stan found himself kneeling on the beach, watching his younger self hammer nails into a plank on the boat while Ford held it in place. Both of them looked sweaty and exhausted, yet also… so, so happy.

“Wherever we go,” the young Ford declared like a mantra, “we go together.”

From somewhere not quite within the memory, Stan heard the sound of a distorted gasp.

Kneeling on the opposite side of their younger selves and watching them intently was the real Ford — except now, only his face was visible, while the rest of his body was awash with static. The pattern flickered erratically, branched and jagged patterns of lightning bolts crackling within it, but Ford seemed oblivious to everything except the events playing out in the memory in front of him.

“We were both so happy,” he whispered, eyes flickering between the two younger twins as they pressed their hands together in a high-six. “What changed?”

“Stanford, we — we’ve gotta get you out of here,” Stan choked out. “I don’t know what’s happening to you, but it —”

Ford’s head snapped up to look at Stan, to really look at him for the first time since they’d entered his memories, with a incredulity in his eyes that suggested he was only just now realizing that the real Stan was in there with him.

“This isn’t right,” Ford mumbled — and initially, Stan flinched, assuming the words were directed at him. But a moment later, the speed of the memory accelerated to a dizzying blur, fast-forwarding to more scenes familiar to both twins.

Stan going to Ford’s gym class while Ford took his math test, and coming home with a black eye but also a smile on his face, because he’d given a couple of Ford’s bullies the kicks in the shins that they’d deserved.

Stan and Ford staying in the theater after watching Stan’s choice of comedy flick, and sneaking into the second showing of the sci-fi movie Ford had been anticipating for so long. Dodging the worst of the crowds, and having a great time in both with the theaters practically all to themselves.

Making the most of detention together, passing notes behind the teacher’s back.

With each memory, the static covering Ford receded further, first leaving his hair and then his shoulders and arms. He stared down at his hand, waiting for it too to become clear again and reveal the number on his palm —

Just as the receding line of static reached his wrist, the scene shifted one more time. They stood in a familiar living room, lit only by the pale blue light of a television…

“The argument,” Ford whispered.

Stan felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, as the static shot back up to Ford’s shoulders.

In the memory, Ford stormed into the room, waving a crumpled bag of toffee peanuts in the air as he stared daggers at Stan. “Can you explain what this was doing next to my broken project?!”

And Stan sneered back at him, throwing his paddleball to the ground where it snapped in two. “College dreams are ruined, huh? Guess you’ve got no choice but to go sailing now!”

The TV behind Ford exploded, glass shattering as bolts of blue electricity arced from wall to wall. The whole room trembled as sparks and smoke filled the air, and both the Ford from the memory and the Ford cloaked in static stumbled as they tried to step away from the searing rays of plasma —

“Sixer!” Stan grabbed Ford’s hand, and a jolt of electricity ran up his arm, sending black and white pixels flickering across his vision. “Ford, are you the one doing this?!”

Ford hung limp in the air, suspended in place where Stan had caught him halfway through a fall. The spot where their hands met burned like nothing Stan had ever felt before, like the static was trying to creep up his own veins and into his own body, to unmake him and rewrite him and embitter him from the inside out — but all Stan could bring himself to do was tighten his grip, as he watched a crack snake through the floor beneath Ford’s feet.

“You’ve got to stop this, Ford! This isn’t what happened!”

The whole room shuddered as the crack split open, revealing a massive chasm of static with no bottom in sight. Ford staggered backwards, the ground beneath him crumbling as more and more glowing white cracks zigzagged through it — but before he could topple backwards and fall, Stan used his free hand to grab him by the collar of his staticked-out shirt.

It felt less like he was grabbing something material and more like he was sticking his hand in a fire, but he still pulled Ford closer, until he could wrap an arm around Ford’s back.

“And what really happened wasn’t great, either — it was awful — but I never wanted it to happen, I swear! I’m so sorry, Ford — I never wanted to ruin your dreams, and I don’t want to lose you in here, either! These aren’t your real memories, and — and I know how lying to yourself feels like it’ll hurt less, but in the long run, it… it doesn’t. I promise!”

His arms went numb, and his vision began to fade as something wet sizzled and evaporated on his cheek.

“And if you still want to be mad at me, I — I can’t blame you. But be mad at me for what I really did! Be mad at me when you’re safe at home, or at college, or wherever you end up in life — not in here! Please, Ford, let me help you get out of this place…”

He heard a voice, close to his ear but garbled by static.

“Ford? You with me?”

Ford tried again, and though it was quieter this time, it came out comprehensible.

“Was it me who changed?”

“Ford, we… we both fucked up. I should’ve just told you about breaking the machine as soon as it happened — then you might’ve been able to fix it…”

The burning feeling began to subside, and the crumbling living room reassembled itself as the scene playing out inside started over.

“I might’ve accidentally been… horsing around…”

“This was no accident, Stan! You did this!”

“I still should’ve believed you,” Ford mumbled, stepping back from Stan as he stared at the memory. The static dropped below his collar, then below his shoulders.

“Maybe there's a silver lining, huh? Treasure hunting?”

“Are you kidding me? Why would I want to do anything with the person who sabotaged my entire future?!”

“And I shouldn’t have brought up the boat like that!” Stan told him. “I shouldn’t have joked about it! I didn’t realize how — how important that school on the other side of the country was to you, but now I do…”

Both twins flinched as they watched Filbrick enter the memory, grabbing Stan by his shirt.

“I should’ve stood up to Dad!” Ford went on, his head in his hands. “I never should’ve let him kick you out —”

“You know you wouldn’t have been able to change his mind.” Stan stared at the ground. “I should’ve known that, instead of blaming you for not taking my side…”

“I never wanted to cut ties with you, Stan.” The static receded even further as Ford spoke, dropping down to the level of his belt. “Not when I wanted to go to West Coast Tech, and not even after the argument — but when Dad threw you out, I convinced myself that I never wanted to see you again. That you’d always just been dragging me down — because it was easier to believe that.”

He took a deep breath. “Being angry at someone you hate… it’s so much easier than being angry at someone you love, even if you really do love that person. Without that contradiction making you second-guess every feeling you have, it’s so much simpler, so much easier to bear…”

The scene flickered, changing to a memory that Stan had never seen before. It was from after he’d gotten kicked out, he realized.

Ford sat on the stairs of Pines Pawns, slouching and glowering at the floor as he listened to Filbrick and Caryn arguing.

“He’s seventeen! Teenagers ruin things, it’s what they do! You didn’t have to ruin his whole life to punish him!” Caryn shouted.

“That freeloader has been ruining the smart one for years!” Filbrick shot back. “Done nothing but drag his brother down their whole lives, and it’s about time we cut him off!”

He whirled around, and noticed Ford watching them. “Right, Stanford? Weren’t you tired of going along with every harebrained scheme that popped into his head? Of doing all his math homework? Of humoring him, when he said he wanted to sail around the world? Wasn’t it suffocating?!”

Ford didn’t say anything, but he gave a half-hearted nod before trudging back up to his room.

Outside of the memory, the real Ford spoke up. “No, Dad. It wasn’t.”

As the last few pixels of static covering his feet disappeared, he turned to Stan and outstretched his arms for a embrace. “I missed you, Stanley.”

Stan accepted the hug without a second thought. “I missed you too, Sixer,” he whispered.

Waves of static washed over the room for one last time, and when they subsided, Stan was once again kneeling on the floor of the Cat’s car. The Cat herself still stood on the other end of the room, hissing quietly when she noticed Stan awaken.

“Ford, are you okay?” Stan stood up and turned around, and to his relief, Ford was sitting up straight — and staring at his hand, as it shone a brighter green than it ever had before.

And so was Stan’s hand, as it whirled through number after number far too quickly to read. For the first time, it felt warm — not warm like the burn from the static, but warm like hot chocolate and lazy summers and companionship, warm in a way Stan hadn’t felt in months.

0Two beams of light shot up from Stan and Ford’s hands in unison, and on each side of the room, one half of a door appeared, outlined in green and slowly sliding together. When they met, a familiar golden vortex appeared and two columns of light sprouted from it, coiling around each other like a double helix as they stretched upwards and out of the train.

And visible inside the door, clear as day, was the Stan O’ War — right where they’d left it, filthy from months of neglect but still salvageable. Still not that far from seaworthy, in the grand scheme of things.

“Oh,” Ford mumbled. “Of course. That’s really far more simple than anything I theorized about the numbers…”

He turned to Stan. “Are… are you ready to leave?”

Stan gave him a thumbs up. “Wherever we go, we go together.”

As he followed Ford towards the exit, he turned around one last time. “Hey, Cat? We won’t miss you.”

Ford didn’t bother to turn around, but he did wave a double middle finger in the Cat’s direction, which Stan chuckled at. The two of them stood side by side at the door for a moment, both in the awkward position of waiting for the other to go first.

Then Ford smiled. “High six?” he asked, raising his palm with the zero on it.

“High six,” Stan agreed, and they stepped though the portal with their hands pressed together.

***

“You know, this is a little ironic,” Ford commented shortly after removing himself from the sand dune he’d faceplanted in. “Just before the exit showed up, I was thinking about how I was actually looking to exploring more of the train, since I’d have you by my side.”

“Oh, good. We both remember it,” Stan replied, spitting out sand. “I was always kind of wondering in the back of my mind if it was a hallucination. Also, that’s the sappiest thing I’ve heard all day, and I said some really sappy stuff back there.”

Ford ignored the second half of his remark. “Well, even if our memories failed us, we’ve also got physical proof backing up the experience…”

He pulled out the device he’d stolen from the Cat, which was still glowing and reacting to both their voices and the ambient sounds of the beach. “I need to thank you for that time you tried to teach me to pickpocket, by the way. The train had a lot of advanced technology that I want to try and replicate, and it’s going to be a lot easier with an actual example to take apart.”

“Oh shit, you stole something? Ford, I have never been a prouder brother in my life.”

Ford chuckled. “It might be a tad unethical, but after some basic study I could probably claim to have ‘invented’ this, and use the funds from selling the patent to afford the tuition to a nicer college than Backupsmore. I do still want to spend some years studying and working on a higher education, but… I hope you’ll keep in touch when I do. It’ll be a lot less fun without you around.”

He rested a hand on the Stan O’ War. “And in the meantime, while I work on reverse engineering this technology… I think there’ll definitely be some time for some boat repair and treasure hunting.”

“Poindexter, your hand is in seagull shit. Better add ‘boat cleaning’ to that list.”

“Ugh, you’re right. At least it’s dry.” Ford carefully moved his hand to a less dirty spot on the boat. “So, that’s a yes to the treasure hunting?”

“Oh, you know it.”

***

Afterword:

Using the sensor stolen from the Cat, Ford invents a new type of sonar that’s significantly more effective than the current versions. With that technology, the boys track down a bunch of shipwrecks, and start getting famous for their discoveries and “invention.”

When Filbrick hears about this and realizes that his sons are on a track to fame and fortune and not sharing any of it with him, he’s initially furious but then tries to approach them and ask them to let him back into their lives, which they refuse. (Caryn divorces him soon after, and Shermie cuts ties around the same time. None of them ever send him money.)

Thanks to his work, Ford wins a scholarship to a well-respected university — it’s not quite West Coast Tech, but it’s also a lot nicer than Backupsmore. He opts not to take classes in summer even though they’d help him graduate faster, and spends all his breaks sailing with Stan.

Stan does get a little bored during the school year when Ford is busy, but Ford notices and suggests he start drawing comics again. Stan is hesitant and a little insecure at first but eventually starts honing his art more and brainstorming plotlines with occasional input from Ford. Using some connections he made in treasure hunting press interviews, he eventually gets a deal to have a short comic series published — then it turns into a huge success, and his comics (loosely based of his and Ford’s childhood) get picked up for many more issues.

Somewhere along the line they become friends with Fidds, probably thanks to some inter-school technology fair where he and Ford both competed, and eventually the gang heads to Oregon to investigate the anomalies concentrated in a town called Gravity Falls. Bill shows up at some point and tries to pull some characteristically Bill bullshit, but he’s no match for a pair of twins that have actually developed some half-decent communication skills. Many more years down the line, Dipper and Mabel’s childhood is full of visits from their famous scientist/explorer/artist grunkles.

***

Thank you for joining me on this crazy train ride! All your responses have meant a lot to me, and I know I’ll look back on this experience fondly (even if it was a lot shorter than my multichapter fics tend to be).

[mlovesstories]

You Know What You’re Doing Part 3

@spndeanbingo free space

Words: 2900

Warnings: Injury, hospitals, runaway, child/adult fight, cussing

AN- Beta: @sbcamp08. Thank youuuuu! 

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After their fun day in Austin, YN played with Jensen and JJ, throwing a small football around the backyard. YN and Jensen started laughing when she tumbled while trying to catch a hard throw from him. YN playfully charged at Jensen in mock retaliation for making her fall over just as Donna stood up from her lawn chair to refill her water glass. Giggling and focused, she had almost reached Jensen when she plowed into Donna instead, knocking her to the ground. Everyone froze as she yelped and hit the ground. HARD. Donna groaned on the ground holding her hip.

“Oh- Donna! Oh no. I’m so sorry!”

“Here, Mom, I’ll help you up.” Jensen extended his hand, but she could not roll over and sit up on her own. Kneeling down, he checked her over, discovering that  Her left side was tender to the touch and looked discolored. Concerned her injury was worse than he could safely diagnose, Jensen shouted into the house for Danneel to call an ambulance.

……..

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to, and she got hurt, and-“

“YN!” Danneel startled her foster daughter. “It was an accident. Relax.” She rubbed YN’s arm while watching the paramedics load Donna into an ambulance.

YN ran back into the house with audible sniffles fading as she entered. The rest of the family could hear her feet scrambling up the stairs in quick succession.

“We’ll follow you to the hospital, Mom. You’re going to be okay. Love you.” Jensen released Donna’s hand. He went up to YN’s room with Zeppelin on his hip and knocked. No answer. “I’m coming in, YN.” He slowly opened her door. She sat at the end of her bed with a blank face. “It’s not your fault, kid.”  No response. “I am going to follow Grandma to the hospital. Dee will be here with you and the younger ones. Just- it was an accident. Don’t beat yourself up.” When he didn’t receive a verbal reply or glance, he shut her door, sighing. Jensen walked down the stairs. “Here,” he gave Zeppelin to Danneel and grabbed his keys. “Check on her in a little bit. She wouldn’t even talk when I was just in there.”

——-

Once the twins went to bed, Danneel and JJ entered YN’s room to check on her.

“YN? Grandma is okay. She just has a booboo,” the five year old ran to YN’s bed. When JJ turned the covers back excitedly, YN wasn’t there. Pillows peaked out from under the blankets. “Mommy?” JJ turned to Danneel.

“Dammit. Come here, JJ.”

“But… Where she go?”

“Not sure, love. Let’s go find her.”

————

I hurt her.

One of my few friends. My family?

Great job, YN.

You don’t deserve them.

All you do is hurt people.

Running away is best for everyone. 

YN had gathered her things and exited the front door while everyone in the house was seated the movie room. She felt awful and ashamed for what she had done. YN was having too much fun and wasn’t paying attention.

It’s all my fault.

I can’t believe I did that.

Grow up, YN. Stop acting like a kid.

You never were a kid. You aren’t one now. You don’t get to play.

So much for being in a family. Screwed that up pretty good.

They’re going to hate me now. 

———

Danneel tried calling YN’s phone, but discovered the device ringing in the blankets on the girl’s bed. Not wanting to worry Jensen,  she asked her parents to come watch the little ones before searching for her foster daughter. Danneel was hoping that YN hadn’t gotten far, but it was dark and rainy by the time Danneel was able to go look for YN.

Driving around the neighborhood, she didn’t see her and started to really worry. “Where are you, YN? Please be okay.”

A few miles down the main road, Danneel spotted a small light flickering on the side of the street. “Found her! Thank goodness.” Danneel thought to herself as she saw YN in a bright green sweatshirt and sweats, walking down the road, flashlight in hand, holding her backpack over her head in a measly attempt to stay dry

“YN!” Danneel yelled for her attention as she pulled off to the side of the road. YN looked up.

Aw, shit. 

YN’s shoulders tightened as she picked up the pace.

Danneel shut the car off and ran after her. “YN, wait!” The mom yelled, snagging her forearm to turn the wary child around.

“You don’t get to just leave this family,” Danneel yelled over the rain drops hitting her jacket. Soaking wet, they both stilled for a beat.

“But- but, I hurt her!”

“Yeah. So?” Danneel yelled back.

“Huh?”

Danneel pulled her into the car and shut the door.

“Sometimes that happens. Sometimes shit happens. Even in families. People get hurt sometimes. You hurt them sometimes. You knocked her over. So what? It was an accident! Bad timing. JJ and I came in to tell you that Donna would be fine, but you weren’t there. I was so scared we’d lost you.”

“Oh.”

“C’mon. Let’s go home and get you warmed up,” Danneel pulled back into the road and turned around.

————-

“You did what?” Jensen yelled from the other end of the phone. “You ran away? Out in this storm?! Are you crazy?”

“She’s home and warm now, babe. Go deal with your mom’s stuff, we got this.” Danneel hung up.

“Please don’t tell Sarah! She will kill me! She’ll take me away...” YN was practically on her knees begging.

“Relax. It’s okay. I know why you got upset. Just breathe. But you know now that you can’t just run away, right?”

“Yeah,” YN answered. “It’s a family thing. I’m not used to having a family,” she shrugged. Danneel took her hand.

“I know. This is just part of it though. I know you feel scared and angry and sad that you hurt Donna, but she’s going to be fine, and I’m sure she isn’t mad. Okay?”

“Jensen is. He said I was careless and needed to stop horsing around! He was playing too!”

“I know. He shouldn’t have said that. You need to be a kid. Tomorrow, we are going to do all the kid things we can. Don’t worry about him.”

“It’s okay. Thanks anyway,” YN tried to stand. Danneel held onto her hand and pulled YN back down to the couch.

“No. You need to be a kid. As long as you don’t mind the little ones coming, we will have a kid-only day tomorrow,” Danneel beamed. “Please let me do this for you.”

“Really?” YN questioned warily, acquiescing after a moment of hesitation. “I guess that could be ok… Thank you.” She engulfed Danneel in a hug almost squishing Zeppelin on the mom’s lap. “Oh, oops. Sorry, little dude.” She said, ruffling the toddlers hair.

—————-

“You got a lot of nerve, kid!” Jensen stomped into the living room. Zep startled and let out an indignant wail..

“JENSEN!” Danneel chastised. “Go upstairs. Now!”

YN walked up to Jensen and punched him in the arm. Hard.

YN tried to skirt her way out of the room, fearing that she’d been too bold even though he said to do it, but Danneel stopped her. “You stay. His attitude doesn’t affect our conversation.” Turning back to her husband, she scowled, “Get ahold of yourself, Jay. Now.” She saw him take a deep breath. His narrowed eyes relaxed.

He was taken aback by her action, indignation crossing his features before he remembered.

Oh right, I told her to. Shit.

“Are you okay, YN?” Jensen offered a relieved smile.

“I’m fine,” she whispered in a defensive tone.

“Good. I’m glad. Did Dee tell you that my mom is going to be okay?”

“Yes,” she sighed.

“Good. I think I owe you. Would you like some hot chocolate and a long list of I’m sorry’s, YN?” He raised a brow.

“Umm. Hot chocolate sounds good. But I can do it. It’s okay.” She tried to stand up, but Jensen asked her to sit down. “Okay.”

…..

“Here. My special recipe. Hope you like it.” Jensen smiled, proud of himself.

“Wow. It’s good. Thank you.” YN looked down at her shoes.

“I know you’re scared right now. And I’m sorry. You’ve been through a lot already, and I am-“

“I’m okay. Can I just go upstairs, please?”

“Just- just wait. I’m stressed with work and stuff, and I just want to provide for you. I just want you to be happy and safe, okay? I know it I haven’t shown you that very well. I want to start over. Is that okay with you?”

“Sure, I guess.” She offered a sad smile.

_________

The next day, Danneel and the kids, YN included, went to visit Donna in the hospital.

“Oh, Donna, I’m so sorry!” YN wailed when she saw the woman in the hospital, gripping the side of Danneel’s shirt, holding close to her foster mother in fear of a delayed retaliation.

“Sweetie,” Donna gave her a forgiving smile. “It’s not your fault. It was an accident. Accidents happen, silly girl! Come here.” YN didn’t move. “You won’t break me, I promise.” YN slowly tiptoed toward the hospital bed, shifting to grip Danneel’s hand for reassurance [moral support?]. When she reached the edge of the bed, Donna took her other hand. “It’s okay, sweetheart. If anyone is at fault here, it’s me. I wasn’t paying attention, y’all were playing and running all around, and I got myself in the way. I doubt you even saw me or had any time to react. This is NOT your fault. Please believe that.”

“But I hurt you!”

“Stop,” Donna smiled. “I’m not mad at you. No one is mad at you. You did nothing wrong. Promise. Please let it go.”  

“Actually, we have some fun things to do today,” Danneel chimed in. “Come on, time to say goodbye, YN.”

“Okay. Bye, Mimi. I hope you feel better soon.”

The group left the hospital and started their kid day. They went to breakfast, ordered funny-shaped pancakes and hot chocolate. YN giggled at the chocolate all over the twins’ faces.

“Was it good?” Danneel saw the joy on YN’s face.

“Yes. I need to get this again!”

“Awesome. You got a little something-“ Danneel started. Zeppelin stuck a napkin in YN’s face.

“Oh, thanks, Z.” YN took the napkin and wiped her face.

________

Next, the family went to the zoo. YN was amazed at all the animals. JJ dragged YN around the park to show her all of her favorite creatures. They took pictures and Danneel became a bit of an overzealous mom about reapplying sunscreen, but they all had a good time. They went home for lunch so that the little ones could take an afternoon nap. Danneel and Jensen surprised YN with teaching YN how to ride a bike.

“No.”  She refused, scared and embarrassed to learn as a teenager.

“Baby, I’ve got a helmet, and elbow and knee pads. You’ll be safe. I promise it will be worth it.” Jensen said.

“Don’t I at least get training wheels?”

“This is my bike and it doesn’t come with training wheels. You’ll thank me. Please just trust me. At least sit on it.” He moved out of the way so that she could swing her leg over the side of the bike. She slowly walked toward it. After she straddled the bike, she moved the handlebars to test out the contraption. Feet still on the ground, Jensen put the helmet on her slowly. “I’ll make you a deal.”

She looked up at him with a questioning expression. “Huh?”

“If you can ride this bike around the block by the end of tomorrow, I’ll take you to set with me this week.” He grinned. “Deal?”

“But- But how? I have school,” she gave him a skeptical side eye look and shrugged.

“I’ll let you in on a little secret. The school is tailored to families like ours who travel a lot to spend time together. It’s fine.”

“What? Really?”

“Yep.”

Narrowing her eyes to suss out if she could believe him, she relented. “Fine, but you’re not allowed to make fun of me. Okay?”

Jensen saw her confidence plummet.

“I would never. Here. Put these pads on too.” He handed her the soft protectors for her elbows and knees. “You will fall down, you should just accept that now, but with these you will only get a little scraped up. Nothing major.”

“I don’t want to. It’s embarrassing.” YN almost hiccuped from the impending swell of tears.

“No one is out here except for me. I promise I am only here to help.”

“Okay. Fine.” She rolled her eyes and took the elbow and knee pads from him. He held the bike to balance it while she velcroed them on.

“The balls of your feet are what push the pedals. I’m going to hold the handle and the back of the bike seat. When you’re going fast enough, the forward movement will help you keep your balance, and I’ll let go. The brakes are right here,” he pointed to the levers on the handlebars. “Squeeze them and you’ll stop. Got it?”

“I think so.”

“You’re going to go to the end of the driveway—slowly, but not too slow— and then stop and put your feet down. Okay? Ready?” She put her feet on the pedals while he balanced the bike. She nodded. Her left foot pushed down. YN got scared, squealing, but Jensen kept pushing her anyway. He ran alongside her until the handlebars stopped wavering and she maintained a straight path. Letting go, he watched as she struggled to keep up with the pedals. She slammed on the brakes and fell to the side, yelping.

“Nope, done. Don’t care. Thanks anyway, Jensen.” Shaking, she stood up and ripped the pads off. Backing away from the bike, she walked toward the house.

“Stop!”

She froze.

“You’ve done it once. Come on. Nobody gets it on the first try. You have to practice and make mistakes and fall down to learn. This is part of being a kid. You’ll get the hang of it.” He turned her around by her shoulders to face him. “What did you learn from your first time doing this?”

“That I suck!”

“Oh, stop it. Come on, really.”

“My feet couldn’t keep up. I slammed the brakes too hard and forgot to put my feet out like you said to.”

“Right. So how can we fix it?” Jensen released her, dropping his hands down to his sides. She shrugged. “If you feel like you are starting to lose control, slowly squeeze the brakes. That will give you time to catch up on your pedaling. Okay?” YN sighed.

“Okay.”

The next time down the driveway, she did better, making it further down the driveway before skidding to a stop using her outstretched feet. At the end of the day, YN could start, stop, and turn fairly well.

“Nice job today, kid. Proud of you.” Jensen gave a high five.

“Thanks, Jensen.” She smiled, looking down, embarrassed.

Although a few tears were shed and scrapes happened, YN beamed going up and down the street on Jensen’s bicycle.

“Now,” he started. “If you can get around the block in the next five minutes, I’ll take you to set. I know you’ve been wanting to go. Ready?”

“No. That’s not a long time, Jensen. I’ll have to go too fast, and you’ll be further away.” YN sighed, defeated.

“Yes, you can do it. Control your speed, don’t rush.”

“Okay.” After a deep breath, she put her feet on the pedals. He started a timer and she sped off. Soon enough, she came around the other side.

“Four minutes!” Jensen smiled. She slammed on the brakes, falling into Jensen. He caught her, but they both hit the ground. “You okay?” He laughed.

“Yeah! It was great!” She giggled into his chest.

“What in the world?” Danneel stepped outside.

“We’re fine, Dee. Relax.”

YN untangled herself from the bike and moved away from Jensen. He groaned as she tried to scoot off of him.

“Sorry!” Her face was laced in fear.

“I’m fine, sweetheart. It’s okay. I’d appreciate some help though,” he grinned. After a sigh of relief, Danneel went back inside, and YN reached a hand down to help Jensen in stand.

“Does this mean— Can I go to set with you now? I know I knocked you over, and I’m so sorr-“ She rambled and apology.

“Relax. Yes, you can. I’ll set it up.”

“Really?” She screamed. Running into his arms, she almost knocked him over again with a giant tackling hug.

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@giggles1026

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[victorluvsalice]

Valice Shipping Week, Day 8: Author’s Choice - Other Woman!

And so we come to the final day of Valice Shipping Week -- and we end on a Vemlicia short. Figures, huh? ;p Look, I really wanted to do something with the Somebody I Used To Know verse -- I’ve done so much work on creating Wonderland weapons and outfits for this foursome, I feel like I’ve neglected their actual story a bit. Felt good to actually WRITE something for them. Since the prompt was “author’s choice” and the verse a poly one, I decided to take inspiration from Emily canonically sobbing that Victoria was the “other woman.” Of course, in this verse, Emily has no issue with sharing Victor with Victoria, or Alice. . .but it seems someone else might. . .

"So – now that everyone is assembled, can you please tell us just what was so funny at that party?"

"Please," Victoria nodded, frowning at Victor. "It's been bothering me all night."

"Sorry," Victor said, looking around the group with an embarrassed little grin. "I didn't want to keep you in such suspense. I simply thought it would be easier to tell all of you at once."

"Fair enough," Alice allowed, swinging a leg idly and making the over-sized mushroom cap they were all perched on jiggle. "Though we could have tried conjuring up Emily from the ether when you came home."

"I know, but – it was a long party," Victor admitted, running his fingers through his hair. "I just wanted to get to bed."

"I've no doubt, if it was one thrown by your mother," Emily said, shaking her head. "I'm surprised you and Victoria even went, honestly."

"Well, we'd missed the previous three, and Nell was starting to get – upset," Victoria said, pressing her fingers between her eyes. "Better to give up a night to ourselves than get embroiled in a months-long argument with my mother-in-law. I just wish we could have brought Alice. It would have been nice to have a friendly face to look upon when we retired to the drawing room after dinner."

"On the one hand, I'm sorry that I couldn't have been there to help you through it," Alice said, looking up at the sky through the multicolored leaves of the trees. "On the other, I'm happy that I didn't have to sit through another Nell Van Dort monologue. I swear, no one can grab hold of a conversation and squeeze the life out of it quite like her. What was tonight's topic?"

"Her recent trip to Brighton," Victoria reported. "With her making sure to mention every possibly-noble person she may have brushed elbows with. I've tried to tell her that such name-checking is rather gauche, but. . ." She shrugged.

"She'll never understand," Victor sighed. "She lives for that sort of thing. Just let it wash over you and nod occasionally – that's what I do."

"I'm glad I don't have to deal with her," Emily said, making a face. "I met enough people like that during my living years. . .so what happened on the menfolk's side of things, then?"

"Oh, nothing," Victor said with a sly little smile. "Just my father and Lord Everglot pulling me aside before we entered the smoking room. They wished to talk to me about my 'personal arrangements.'"

The ladies shared a confused look. "Personal – what, like your – clothes?" Emily guessed, raising an eyebrow.

"That seems more your mother's specialty than theirs," Alice noted.

"No, no," Victor said, holding up a hand. "As in how I run my household. Specifically, my servants."

Alice sighed, rolling her eyes as she leaned back on her hands. "Oh dear. What did they have to say about me this time?"

"Simple – they know you're my mistress."

Alice froze as Emily's jaw dropped. "What?"

Victoria went white. "They – they – how is that funny, Victor?! We try so hard to – am I going to get a message tomorrow from Mother demanding that I fire Alice?"

"I haven't gotten to the funny part yet," Victor said placatingly, taking her hand. "And no, you're not. They were actually rather – accepting of it all. Not happy, of course, but – they told me that what I do in my own home is my business, and if you're willing to tolerate me being with another woman, they won't say anything to anyone."

"Well, that's a lucky break," Alice said, sitting up straight. "But if they're not going to snitch on us to their wives, why bring it up at all? As Victoria attempted to say, we take pains not to flaunt our unusual living arrangement."

"That was sort of the point – to make sure we didn't flaunt it," Victor explained. "In the form of 'if you bring shame upon both our families with an illegitimate child, we will make you regret it. After our wives are through with you.'" He grinned again. "Which is why I think I knocked them for such a loop when I told them I wasn't – ah – sharing relations with you."

There was a pause – then Alice sniggered. "Oh. I see. Rather rare that you can throw someone off your trail by telling the truth."

Emily giggled. "Oh dear. What were their expressions like, I wonder?"

"Completely gobsmacked," Victor said with delight. "It took Lord Everglot a full minute to get his wits about him enough to demand I repeat that. Then another minute to force out something resembling an apology. Father was rather quicker to recover, but he kept sharing little baffled glances with Lord Everglot throughout the night." He tched. "I felt a bit sorry for them, honestly. They were both so sure they had us figured out. . ."

"To be fair, it's not really their fault they were wrong on one of the particulars," Victoria said, trying to hide her grin with a hand. "Hopefully this means they'll be too embarrassed to ever bring up the topic again."

"And now we know that they wouldn't object to me being your mistress either," Emily added with a cheeky grin. "A dead woman who lives in an imaginary world and is incapable of ever causing scandal via bastard heir? I'm the dream." She tittered. "Literally!"

"Yes, well, you'd be perfect up until the point they discovered your preference for Victoria as a lover," Alice pointed out, smirking. "That might be a bit – much, for the people of this village."

"I personally can think of a dozen reasons for Pastor Galswells to come down upon our heads," Victor confessed. "Only two of which have anything to do with our – bedroom activities."

"God forbid he ever suspect the truth of our relationship," Victoria said, grimacing. "We're quite lucky that it was only my father and yours who got an inkling. I can't see my mother letting go of the subject that easily."

"Nor mine," Victor agreed. He wrapped his arms around as much of her, Alice, and Emily as he could reach, pulling them toward him in a kind of cuddle pile. "But you know. . .I seem to have more than my fair share of luck these days."

The ladies chuckled and snuggled up tight against him. "I think that's true of all of us," Alice agreed, kissing his cheek. "And haven't we earned it."

[johnboothus]

VinePair Podcast: Giving Thanks in a Difficult Year for the Drinks Industry

2020 has been the hardest year in the drinks industry in living memory. The incredible damage that Covid-19 has wrought on bars, restaurants, breweries, wineries, and more can’t be overstated — not just putting businesses at risk, but leading to massive unemployment in the service industry and forcing many others to risk their health to keep their jobs. In addition, devastating fires struck most of the West Coast, the U.S. government continued to impose senseless tariffs on many imported wines and spirits, and, in many cases, state and local governments were slow to provide flexible outdoor options for both business owners and consumers alike.

Yet with all that, there are some genuine reasons to be thankful in 2020, and those are what Adam Teeter and Zach Geballe explore on this week’s episode of the VinePair Podcast.

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Adam: From Brooklyn, New York, I’m Adam Teeter.

Zach: And in Seattle, Washington, I’m Zach Geballe.

A: And this is a version of the OG VinePair Podcast, because we have no guest hosts today, Zach.

Z: Just you and me, man. Just like back when we were young whippersnappers, trying to plant our flag in this whole podcasting space.

A: I feel like people are gonna be like, “Oh God, I don’t want to just listen to Adam and Zach.”

Z: I mean, that is a lot what a lot of them said back in the day too, to be fair.

A: Hey, so what’s going on, man? I mean, I know we had banter, we also talked drinks. What have you been drinking recently?

Z: Well, my favorite fun story lately was I got an email from my mother, who I do see on occasion. She takes care of my son once a week, and she comes down here and usually has dinner with us. And she emailed me and basically said, “Oh, a friend of mine was telling me about this thing called ‘orange wine.’ Do you know anything about this? Or can you tell me a little about it?”And I was like, “well, yeah. And if you’re interested, I have some, we can try one when you’re down here.” So, she was down here last night for dinner and she tried her first orange wine, which was from a producer here in Washington called Two Vintners, and it’s an orange wine made from Gewürztraminer that I quite like, actually. And, I wasn’t sure what to expect but, yeah, Mom was into it, which was cool. She wasn’t like “buy me a case,” but she was like, “I would drink it again” which is great. So yeah, that was kind of fun. And, I don’t get the opportunity to pour something new for people ever anymore ’cause you know, here I am locked in my house. But once in a while, I get that opportunity, at least with my mom, and occasionally my wife, but my wife has definitely tried more wine in her life than my mom has. How about you?

A: So I had a really cool — have we run the Popina interview yet?

Z: We have not, that’ll be out for those of you listening to this on Monday, it’ll be out Wednesday and it’s very fun.

A: Yeah. So, I interviewed James O’Brien, who owns Popina, which is a great restaurant in Brooklyn. So he basically has like the tiniest indoor space, like it’s very small. And then in New York before Covid times you would call it cozy and you’d love it, because you’d basically have to make sure the other table knew you were getting up and you were going to squeeze by their’s and maybe your butt would like bump their glass or plate, but you loved it. Right? But then he has this massive outdoor space. I mean, so big that it’s crazy. I’m like, “This exists in Brooklyn?” It’s just a huge backyard. He used to have a bocce court back there now there’s tables on the bocce court and then like a driveway. And so I interviewed him just about what’s going on for him. And then he invited me to come by on Friday of last week and have a glass of wine. And so I went with him and then a friend of mine, Dave, who I’ve actually also interviewed on the podcast who owns Lalou in Brooklyn, as well. And it’s funny, I got to try a wine that you and I have talked about before, but I’ve actually never had before. So there’s a wine that I think we’ve chatted about, Zach, that has blown up in New York. That doesn’t seem to have really expanded much outside of New York, but in New York, it’s like a very hard Barolo to get. And it’s Roagna Pajé, so sorry if I butchered that, and in the city it sells for $150 to $200 a bottle easily, and it’s very heavily allocated. I think it’s either brought in by Polaner or Skurnik, one of the two. And it’s just very prized by somms here. And I’d never had it before. And because, sadly, there’s been restaurants that have closed, some of these wines that were allocated are now easier to find again. And so, James had a few bottles and I just was mentioning that I’d never had it before, because the way he’s now doing his whole restaurant is obviously a counter service. And you can see all the wines on these beautiful racks, across the counter. And I saw it, I was like, I’ve never had that before. And he’s like, well, do you want to pop it? And so we did. And it was a really delicious Barbaresco. I thought it was great. I’ve had other really amazing wines from other Barbaresco and Barolo producers that I think are as good, if not better. But I did think it was a really beautiful bottle of wine and so then I just tried to chat with them about why it has become “the thing.” And it just seems to have become the thing in the way that a lot of things become a thing. Right? Initially this was a producer that obviously is, I think they’re organic and biodynamic, but about 10, 12 years ago, they were more affordable on the market. And so a lot of somms are discovering this one, ‘cause it was a producer they could afford. And then everyone in New York got more and more excited about it, and it became “a thing” because everyone was drinking it. And so then it became more and more allocated and that’s what drove the price up. But there wasn’t a random piece of press that came out about it or a big collector that had a huge collection of it. Again, it was a bunch of people in the industry in New York who got so excited about it that everyone just started buying it. And so it got more and more and more expensive. And originally they were just excited about it because they were originally able to like sell a glass of, I think he was saying their Dolcetto, which is delicious, for $8 a glass. And that’s how people got into the producer, and then it drove from there. And I think that’s really interesting how that can happen in wine markets. Beer markets, too, spirits, too, but especially in these little pockets ‘cause I remember when I was talking to you about it when we were in Italy and you were like, “What producer?” And you know Italian wine. So it was very funny. And that happened to me, too, with a well-known somm from D.C. I said the same thing and I’m like, “Wow, we’re only four hours from you.” And it just proves it. Yeah. It’s just like a weird phenomenon here in New York that has always been funny, but it was fun to try it. And I’m glad that I had the opportunity to. So this is coming out right before Thanksgiving. We thought we’d take the time to have an episode about what we’re thankful for this year. And I know that it feels like for most of us, there’s not a lot to be thankful for. This has been a really insane year. Probably one of the most insane years of most of our lives. Not to discount anything that anyone might’ve gone through personally, that probably could have been just as hard if not harder than this year. But this has been a year of collective hardship for everyone around the world, but there are still some things to be thankful for. And so Zach, I thought I’d kick it off to you first to just ask what are some things that you’ve thought about as we’ve reflected on this episode that you’ve been thankful for this year?

Z: Yeah, well, it’s actually interesting. One of the things that was on my list, and it’s such a natural transition from what you were just talking about is that one thing that I think has really been nice in a sense as a side effect or silver lining of Covid, and unfortunately all the harm that it caused the restaurant and bar industry, is that it has reset the wine allocation market. And I think that we’ve talked about this a little bit in past episodes and at least in passing about one of the real unfortunate elements of the way that wine wholesaling tends to work in this country is that there is a lot of wine that you would think that as a restaurant or as a bar, or even as a retail shop that you’re willing to pay whatever the wholesaler wants for it, but because you don’t have a long track record of buying it, or you haven’t been around for a while, or your sales rep isn’t super well connected, or who knows what — you have a really hard time getting those wines. And it can be a long process to work your way onto those lists. And you know, that isn’t a thing that’s unique to wine or unique to the wholesale business. Obviously there are certainly wine clubs out there that if you as a consumer want to join, you might have to wait on the list for years for but I think that one thing that’s been kind of nice, as I think you’re seeing, some distributors and the importers start to reconsider whether a model where these wines that are considered “some of the prize gems” in their collection, does it really do them good in the long run? Does it do the producer good? Does it do the importer and distributor good to have those wines keep going through the same few accounts over and over again? And that in the end, if you’re an importer, producer, or distributor who wants to both get more people drinking your wine and frankly, eventually be able to sell it for more. It actually probably behooves you to have it a few more places. And I think that you’re going to see, even as we move back to a slightly more normal restaurant and bar situation, whatever that looks like in 2021, or whatever. I do think that I will be curious to see and I suspect that a lot of these wines that were so difficult to get are — for one, there’s going to be just more of them out there because people aren’t going to have as much capital to invest in very high-end wines. But also, I really do think people are going to say, you know what, maybe it is better for us if we have a little bit more presence in various different restaurants, instead of only high-end retail shops, instead of only selling to a few because they’re the longstanding partners.

A: Yeah, man, I agree with you. I think that’s something that I’ve been thankful for as well as there have been just a lot of really cool wines that I’ve now been able to get at places close to me that they’ve all told me they never would have been able to have before. And that’s been great. And I get the allocation market. I get why it exists. There’s just producers that don’t produce a lot of stuff, but it’s cool right now to see that there’s people who are getting that access to wines that they might not normally have been able to have access to because they’re not the friends of the person normally selling the wine or whatever. And so they don’t get first dibs. So that’s been great. I’m really thankful for the fact that I think a lot of us have rediscovered how pleasurable it is to make cocktails at home. I think I have really challenged myself and watched my friends challenge themselves as well, to make really delicious drinks in the comfort of their own home. I discovered the Daiquiri this year. I mean, it’s always been a drink that I liked, but never thought enough to make often. And in the summer, I think we talked about it, I made it every Friday evening. I discovered why you should alway have a bottle of simple syrup in your fridge. I challenged myself, making really interesting whiskey cocktails and things I wouldn’t normally make and looked up recipes from bars I used to love. And I think that that experimentation has made me actually a stronger appreciator of cocktails when I go out, because I actually understand what’s going into the drinks more. And I understand the craft that it takes to make really high-quality drinks, but it’s also made me really enjoy being home and whipping something up as well. That has been a really nice thing and an excuse. ‘Cause I don’t think I would ever have delved as deeply into making cocktails at home as I have had we not been in quarantine for the months we’ve been in quarantine.

Z: Yeah. And I think that in general, cocktails are the biggest example, I think for sure, but in some ways I think one of the things I’ve been thankful for this year is like just remembering how nice it can be to just have a drink at home, period. Whether that’s a cocktail, glass of wine, a beer, whatever. There are things I love about going out and I miss desperately, but because it’s been all that most of us have had, or the main thing that most of us have had, I have had to remember, yeah, it can be really nice to not have the stress and pressure that goes with being out and even something as simple, which is probably not as big a consideration for you as it is for me in Seattle, but yeah it’s nice to be able to have that third drink and be like, I literally just have to walk up a flight of stairs. I don’t have to do any more to get home. I wonder, I’m curious about this, Adam, do you sense that for you or maybe for people more broadly, that when hopefully we move — whether there’s a more widespread vaccine distribution or whatever in the six to 12 months down the road — do you anticipate being more willing to entertain and have cocktail parties? Is this newfound knowledge or at least expanded knowledge and comfort gonna translate into sharing with people? ‘Cause to me, that’s the one thing that I do miss, really, is being able to have drinks with people besides my immediate family.

A: So, yeah, I think that the first time I get to entertain, I’m probably going to go crazy. We have one friend who’s in our pod. She lives alone and is really close friends with Naomi and I, she’s been coming over, and even when she comes over, like every other week and she’ll stay over for the night in our spare bedroom, I go crazy. ‘Cause it’s another person, and I get to entertain. I think I will do that to like the thousandth degree. And I definitely think I will be more likely than I used to, to have a cocktail when people arrive. Like I used to always be like, “Oh, I’m already cooking and stuff.” And you know what I mean? When Naomi and I are busy getting ready we would have people over for dinner and say “Oh, here’s a bottle of bubbly,” and don’t get me wrong. I love a bottle of bubbly, but now I feel like I’ve gotten really good at making cocktails, I want to show that off. Right? So it’s like, I’ll have cocktails ready to go, which is super fun and exciting and something that I didn’t used to do that often. But I think I’m really thankful for, and I think we’re talking about entertaining, but the perspective that this has given. And I’ve seen you on Instagram doing this as well, and I love that we’ve realized that we just need to open shit that we think is delicious. There used to be so many bottles of wine that I had gotten and I’d been saving, and these past nine months, I’ve just opened so many of those, and it’s been awesome. And I’ve always thought, “Why was I saving this?” Like, this made Friday night even better. And so Saturday night, Naomi and I are obviously having another night in, but someone, a good friend of ours, sent me some truffles. And so I’m just going to make fresh pasta with butter and open one of these really amazing bottles of Nebbiolo I have. And, it’s Cigliuti, one of my favorite producers. I’m going to open her Barbaresco. And I’m really excited about it. And I think, again, that was a bottle of wine that I would’ve saved for a dinner party probably, and I’m like, no, no. The best thing is to make fresh pasta with butter and truffles and eat it with Naomi. Like, why would I not want to do that? You know? So I think those are things that we’ve all kind of realized we should be doing more of and has been something to reconnect with in all of this.

Z: I’m going to switch gears a little bit and talk about something else that I’ve been really pleased by, which is that you’re and it’s again by necessity, not necessarily by choice, but I think we’re seeing a really interesting shift among craft brewers to really canning and bottling almost all of their production. And I say this as someone who lives around a lot of craft breweries, one of the downsides for me about that in the last couple of years is that with a young kid, pre-Covid, we would sometimes go hang out at a brewery and have a beer or two, but like, he’s not super happy to do that and wants to be entertained. And I don’t want to ruin other people’s experience if they’re not out with kids, which is a challenging thing. But the problem is with a lot of these breweries, yeah, you can buy a bottle or a 6-pack or 4-pack or whatever of some of their core beers, but most of the things that they’re doing that are really interesting were only on draft. And I totally get why. For one, in many of these cases, the beer itself is maybe slightly better when it comes off draft, as opposed to out of a can or a bottle. And I also understand that the margin is much better on a draft beer and they don’t have to pay for canning and all that. But I will say, selfishly, as someone who does most of his drinking as previously mentioned at home, and we’ll probably be doing that even when Covid is not as big a concern, I really love being able to go get really cool, interesting beers from breweries around me and there’s more than ever before, from breweries all over the place in distribution now. And I think that’s hopefully something that persists. I get it, I won’t fault breweries for returning to the previous model of saving a lot of their special beers for taproom-only, draft-only release, but I really hope that there’s a recognition that they’re missing certain bits of their potential customer base, who just can’t go to a brewery all the time. You know, they just don’t have that ability for whatever set of reasons.

A: I agree, man, that’s been super cool. I think we’ve talked about this before, but all of a sudden, the grocery store two or three blocks away from me, that’s not a Whole Foods and not a Trader Joe’s, it’s one of these corner grocery stores, one of these local chains that we have in New York. It’s not an Associated, but it’s kind of an Associated for those of you that are New Yorkers that also kind of get what I’m going with. And all of a sudden their beer selection has just gotten way better. And they have Threes, and KCBC and all these really great beers, and they are beers that, you’re right, I wouldn’t have been able to get unless I’d gone to the brewery. And now they’re there, and it’s cool. And I also, a lot of breweries have started really getting heavily into delivery and that’s also been awesome. So I’ve been able to do cool beer deliveries from places like Torch and Crown, and there’s so many. I want to say KCBC again, ‘cause that’s what I just did recently. But, all these really great breweries in New York City, Other Half, that you just normally wouldn’t have been able to do, you would have had to go to the brewery to get them, and I think delivery has been dope for that, and for cocktails, to be honest. There’s been really cool cocktail bars that have done really great delivery menus that have really added to my weekends, you know? So those are things that I’ve been really, really excited about as we’ve continued to watch people innovate. I think that’s my overall thing I’m thankful for, is that the restaurant and bar world never fail to disappoint when it comes to innovation. It’s always pushing forward. And that’s what I think makes this industry so exciting to you, me, and everyone that listens, is that it’s an industry that’s never stagnant. There’s always people trying to do new things. Always people who are pushing the envelope and even in Covid-19, when and I know we talk about this every week, but it’s true: Please write your congresspeople. Even when Congress has failed to provide restaurant relief, the people who work in these businesses are still pushing forward, and they are still trying to figure out how to have the most amazing experiences for their guests outside. They’re trying to figure out what menus look like. They’re changing their models. They are creating incredible cocktails that you can take to-go. They are figuring out how to turn their restaurants into hybrid wine shops, they’re creating to-go cocktail bars on wheels, like we talked about the company in L.A. that created an ice cream truck that was also a cocktail bar. Like people were just doing the most amazing things. It just proves that there’s a special kind of person that goes into this industry and cannot be held down by anything, even when the government is not wanting to support them at all, which, what the f*** is happening. So that to me has been really awesome to watch, and to watch how much the industry is supporting each other. We talked about it in one of these other interviews that I did recently. I think it was with Ruffian or Popina, there’s just not the competition. Everyone just wants to help each other succeed. And everyone’s really sad when they see something go out and I think that’s just awesome. And it proves that there’s just a special kind of individual that goes into the world of restaurants and bars. And I think it’s great that the other side of the business, the producers, have been supportive. I would encourage the producers to be more supportive. This is not me on my soapbox, but I’m seeing a lot of restaurant people who were very vocal when they were trying to help a lot of the producers stop the tariffs. And were trying to help a lot of the producers make sure that the prices were the way that they should be. I’m not seeing as many producers, to be very honest, being as vocal on social media and things like that in helping the restaurants and pushing Congress to pass relief. And I understand that’s because a lot of producers are making a lot of money right now because your channels just change to off-premise, but it’d be great to see that same kind of support that the industry gives when there’s wildfires and things like that for the producers, that the producers give the restaurant industry. I’m not saying it’s all producers, let’s be clear, but I do think that there should be a much louder voice than people like Bobby Stuckey always on Instagram and Twitter and whatever, reminding people to constantly call their congresspeople and elected officials and say, look, like we gotta help the restaurant industry because if we don’t, we’re going to be screwed come January. And this has got to happen before then. So, I’m thankful for the amazing camaraderie and resilience the restaurant business has, and the people, and I’m a little disappointed in some of the other stuff.

Z: Well, we’ll try and keep things on the positive note. I think actually to that effect, a thing that as someone who spent a long time working in restaurants, I have felt a lot during this year is that one, I think it’s a positive thing for me is that the “reality” of the restaurant industry is being examined and explored in a way that it just had not previously. And that’s in part about just the financial realities of the industry and how precarious it is, even in good times, and how unsustainable in some ways a lot of the things that we took for granted pre-Covid were. It also goes to some really, really painful and hard conversations about representation, and frankly, discrimination, and abuse and all these things in the industry. And again, these things coming to light are painful, for sure. They’re painful for most of all the people who have suffered in these situations, but also for people who generally love the industry and love things about it. It’s never fun to have this stuff come to light, but it’s so essential to moving forward as an industry, moving forward as a broader conversation about drinks and their place in society. And so I do think that one of the great things, in addition to all the innovation you talked about, Adam, with service and delivery and even how drinks are made and designed, and all that, there’s also been some real incredible forums created, conversations started around inclusion and equality and fairness in these industries. And there’s a long way to go. I don’t mean to say we have arrived, but 2020 feels like a year that we will remember for a lot of reasons. And I hope that this is one of them.

A: I agree. I completely agree. I feel like there’s a lot to be thankful for, to be honest. There has been some really good stuff that’s happened this year in a year that has been also really shitty. And these are just a few of them. But I don’t want to have an hour of us rallying off all things we are thankful for. I think we could. But I think these are a good amount of things that we feel really good about and that we think are things that will continue to persist moving forward. I just think we have to have perspective and support each other and continue to enjoy the things we’re enjoying and don’t be precious about those bottles that you’ve been holding. And if you’ve got a beer or a Bourbon County Stout, pop it now, and just enjoy yourself.

Z: Yeah. And let us know what you’re thankful for. We would love to hear. Is it these things? Is it other things? Is it this podcast? That would be delightful.

A: We’ll just give ourselves a little compliment there.

Z: I mean, you know, gotta kind of look out for the home team on occasion.

A: Yeah. As always, shoot us an email at podcast@vinepair.com, and let us know what you’re thankful for. We’d love to hear it. And we’ll read some of those off on a future episode, ‘cause it’d be great to share with everyone who’s been listening to the podcast since Covid, pre-Covid, et cetera to know what you’ve been thankful for this year as we continue to push forward as a beverage industry. Zach, you’ll be here next week. We’ll be talking about Bubbly Week, which is one of my favorite weeks of the year. And for everyone else, thanks for listening. We’ll see you back next week.

Z: Sounds great.

Thanks so much for listening to the VinePair Podcast. If you enjoy listening to us every week, please leave us a review or rating on iTunes, Spotify, or wherever it is that you get your podcasts. It really helps everyone else discover the show. Now for the credits, VinePair produced by myself and Zach. It is also mixed and edited by him. Yeah, Zach, we know you do a lot. I’d also like to thank the entire VinePair team, including my co-founder, Josh, and our associate editor, Cat. Thanks so much for listening. See you next week.

Ed. note: This episode has been edited for length and clarity.

The article VinePair Podcast: Giving Thanks in a Difficult Year for the Drinks Industry appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/thanksgiving-podcast-2020/

source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/vinepair-podcast-giving-thanks-in-a-difficult-year-for-the-drinks-industry

[wineanddinosaur]

Giving Thanks in a Difficult Year for the Drinks Industry

2020 has been the hardest year in the drinks industry in living memory. The incredible damage that Covid-19 has wrought on bars, restaurants, breweries, wineries, and more can’t be overstated — not just putting businesses at risk, but leading to massive unemployment in the service industry and forcing many others to risk their health to keep their jobs. In addition, devastating fires struck most of the West Coast, the U.S. government continued to impose senseless tariffs on many imported wines and spirits, and, in many cases, state and local governments were slow to provide flexible outdoor options for both business owners and consumers alike.

Yet with all that, there are some genuine reasons to be thankful in 2020, and those are what Adam Teeter and Zach Geballe explore on this week’s episode of the VinePair Podcast.

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Adam: From Brooklyn, New York, I’m Adam Teeter.

Zach: And in Seattle, Washington, I’m Zach Geballe.

A: And this is a version of the OG VinePair Podcast, because we have no guest hosts today, Zach.

Z: Just you and me, man. Just like back when we were young whippersnappers, trying to plant our flag in this whole podcasting space.

A: I feel like people are gonna be like, “Oh God, I don’t want to just listen to Adam and Zach.”

Z: I mean, that is a lot what a lot of them said back in the day too, to be fair.

A: Hey, so what’s going on, man? I mean, I know we had banter, we also talked drinks. What have you been drinking recently?

Z: Well, my favorite fun story lately was I got an email from my mother, who I do see on occasion. She takes care of my son once a week, and she comes down here and usually has dinner with us. And she emailed me and basically said, “Oh, a friend of mine was telling me about this thing called ‘orange wine.’ Do you know anything about this? Or can you tell me a little about it?”And I was like, “well, yeah. And if you’re interested, I have some, we can try one when you’re down here.” So, she was down here last night for dinner and she tried her first orange wine, which was from a producer here in Washington called Two Vintners, and it’s an orange wine made from Gewürztraminer that I quite like, actually. And, I wasn’t sure what to expect but, yeah, Mom was into it, which was cool. She wasn’t like “buy me a case,” but she was like, “I would drink it again” which is great. So yeah, that was kind of fun. And, I don’t get the opportunity to pour something new for people ever anymore ’cause you know, here I am locked in my house. But once in a while, I get that opportunity, at least with my mom, and occasionally my wife, but my wife has definitely tried more wine in her life than my mom has. How about you?

A: So I had a really cool — have we run the Popina interview yet?

Z: We have not, that’ll be out for those of you listening to this on Monday, it’ll be out Wednesday and it’s very fun.

A: Yeah. So, I interviewed James O’Brien, who owns Popina, which is a great restaurant in Brooklyn. So he basically has like the tiniest indoor space, like it’s very small. And then in New York before Covid times you would call it cozy and you’d love it, because you’d basically have to make sure the other table knew you were getting up and you were going to squeeze by their’s and maybe your butt would like bump their glass or plate, but you loved it. Right? But then he has this massive outdoor space. I mean, so big that it’s crazy. I’m like, “This exists in Brooklyn?” It’s just a huge backyard. He used to have a bocce court back there now there’s tables on the bocce court and then like a driveway. And so I interviewed him just about what’s going on for him. And then he invited me to come by on Friday of last week and have a glass of wine. And so I went with him and then a friend of mine, Dave, who I’ve actually also interviewed on the podcast who owns Lalou in Brooklyn, as well. And it’s funny, I got to try a wine that you and I have talked about before, but I’ve actually never had before. So there’s a wine that I think we’ve chatted about, Zach, that has blown up in New York. That doesn’t seem to have really expanded much outside of New York, but in New York, it’s like a very hard Barolo to get. And it’s Roagna Pajé, so sorry if I butchered that, and in the city it sells for $150 to $200 a bottle easily, and it’s very heavily allocated. I think it’s either brought in by Polaner or Skurnik, one of the two. And it’s just very prized by somms here. And I’d never had it before. And because, sadly, there’s been restaurants that have closed, some of these wines that were allocated are now easier to find again. And so, James had a few bottles and I just was mentioning that I’d never had it before, because the way he’s now doing his whole restaurant is obviously a counter service. And you can see all the wines on these beautiful racks, across the counter. And I saw it, I was like, I’ve never had that before. And he’s like, well, do you want to pop it? And so we did. And it was a really delicious Barbaresco. I thought it was great. I’ve had other really amazing wines from other Barbaresco and Barolo producers that I think are as good, if not better. But I did think it was a really beautiful bottle of wine and so then I just tried to chat with them about why it has become “the thing.” And it just seems to have become the thing in the way that a lot of things become a thing. Right? Initially this was a producer that obviously is, I think they’re organic and biodynamic, but about 10, 12 years ago, they were more affordable on the market. And so a lot of somms are discovering this one, ‘cause it was a producer they could afford. And then everyone in New York got more and more excited about it, and it became “a thing” because everyone was drinking it. And so then it became more and more allocated and that’s what drove the price up. But there wasn’t a random piece of press that came out about it or a big collector that had a huge collection of it. Again, it was a bunch of people in the industry in New York who got so excited about it that everyone just started buying it. And so it got more and more and more expensive. And originally they were just excited about it because they were originally able to like sell a glass of, I think he was saying their Dolcetto, which is delicious, for $8 a glass. And that’s how people got into the producer, and then it drove from there. And I think that’s really interesting how that can happen in wine markets. Beer markets, too, spirits, too, but especially in these little pockets ‘cause I remember when I was talking to you about it when we were in Italy and you were like, “What producer?” And you know Italian wine. So it was very funny. And that happened to me, too, with a well-known somm from D.C. I said the same thing and I’m like, “Wow, we’re only four hours from you.” And it just proves it. Yeah. It’s just like a weird phenomenon here in New York that has always been funny, but it was fun to try it. And I’m glad that I had the opportunity to. So this is coming out right before Thanksgiving. We thought we’d take the time to have an episode about what we’re thankful for this year. And I know that it feels like for most of us, there’s not a lot to be thankful for. This has been a really insane year. Probably one of the most insane years of most of our lives. Not to discount anything that anyone might’ve gone through personally, that probably could have been just as hard if not harder than this year. But this has been a year of collective hardship for everyone around the world, but there are still some things to be thankful for. And so Zach, I thought I’d kick it off to you first to just ask what are some things that you’ve thought about as we’ve reflected on this episode that you’ve been thankful for this year?

Z: Yeah, well, it’s actually interesting. One of the things that was on my list, and it’s such a natural transition from what you were just talking about is that one thing that I think has really been nice in a sense as a side effect or silver lining of Covid, and unfortunately all the harm that it caused the restaurant and bar industry, is that it has reset the wine allocation market. And I think that we’ve talked about this a little bit in past episodes and at least in passing about one of the real unfortunate elements of the way that wine wholesaling tends to work in this country is that there is a lot of wine that you would think that as a restaurant or as a bar, or even as a retail shop that you’re willing to pay whatever the wholesaler wants for it, but because you don’t have a long track record of buying it, or you haven’t been around for a while, or your sales rep isn’t super well connected, or who knows what — you have a really hard time getting those wines. And it can be a long process to work your way onto those lists. And you know, that isn’t a thing that’s unique to wine or unique to the wholesale business. Obviously there are certainly wine clubs out there that if you as a consumer want to join, you might have to wait on the list for years for but I think that one thing that’s been kind of nice, as I think you’re seeing, some distributors and the importers start to reconsider whether a model where these wines that are considered “some of the prize gems” in their collection, does it really do them good in the long run? Does it do the producer good? Does it do the importer and distributor good to have those wines keep going through the same few accounts over and over again? And that in the end, if you’re an importer, producer, or distributor who wants to both get more people drinking your wine and frankly, eventually be able to sell it for more. It actually probably behooves you to have it a few more places. And I think that you’re going to see, even as we move back to a slightly more normal restaurant and bar situation, whatever that looks like in 2021, or whatever. I do think that I will be curious to see and I suspect that a lot of these wines that were so difficult to get are — for one, there’s going to be just more of them out there because people aren’t going to have as much capital to invest in very high-end wines. But also, I really do think people are going to say, you know what, maybe it is better for us if we have a little bit more presence in various different restaurants, instead of only high-end retail shops, instead of only selling to a few because they’re the longstanding partners.

A: Yeah, man, I agree with you. I think that’s something that I’ve been thankful for as well as there have been just a lot of really cool wines that I’ve now been able to get at places close to me that they’ve all told me they never would have been able to have before. And that’s been great. And I get the allocation market. I get why it exists. There’s just producers that don’t produce a lot of stuff, but it’s cool right now to see that there’s people who are getting that access to wines that they might not normally have been able to have access to because they’re not the friends of the person normally selling the wine or whatever. And so they don’t get first dibs. So that’s been great. I’m really thankful for the fact that I think a lot of us have rediscovered how pleasurable it is to make cocktails at home. I think I have really challenged myself and watched my friends challenge themselves as well, to make really delicious drinks in the comfort of their own home. I discovered the Daiquiri this year. I mean, it’s always been a drink that I liked, but never thought enough to make often. And in the summer, I think we talked about it, I made it every Friday evening. I discovered why you should alway have a bottle of simple syrup in your fridge. I challenged myself, making really interesting whiskey cocktails and things I wouldn’t normally make and looked up recipes from bars I used to love. And I think that that experimentation has made me actually a stronger appreciator of cocktails when I go out, because I actually understand what’s going into the drinks more. And I understand the craft that it takes to make really high-quality drinks, but it’s also made me really enjoy being home and whipping something up as well. That has been a really nice thing and an excuse. ‘Cause I don’t think I would ever have delved as deeply into making cocktails at home as I have had we not been in quarantine for the months we’ve been in quarantine.

Z: Yeah. And I think that in general, cocktails are the biggest example, I think for sure, but in some ways I think one of the things I’ve been thankful for this year is like just remembering how nice it can be to just have a drink at home, period. Whether that’s a cocktail, glass of wine, a beer, whatever. There are things I love about going out and I miss desperately, but because it’s been all that most of us have had, or the main thing that most of us have had, I have had to remember, yeah, it can be really nice to not have the stress and pressure that goes with being out and even something as simple, which is probably not as big a consideration for you as it is for me in Seattle, but yeah it’s nice to be able to have that third drink and be like, I literally just have to walk up a flight of stairs. I don’t have to do any more to get home. I wonder, I’m curious about this, Adam, do you sense that for you or maybe for people more broadly, that when hopefully we move — whether there’s a more widespread vaccine distribution or whatever in the six to 12 months down the road — do you anticipate being more willing to entertain and have cocktail parties? Is this newfound knowledge or at least expanded knowledge and comfort gonna translate into sharing with people? ‘Cause to me, that’s the one thing that I do miss, really, is being able to have drinks with people besides my immediate family.

A: So, yeah, I think that the first time I get to entertain, I’m probably going to go crazy. We have one friend who’s in our pod. She lives alone and is really close friends with Naomi and I, she’s been coming over, and even when she comes over, like every other week and she’ll stay over for the night in our spare bedroom, I go crazy. ‘Cause it’s another person, and I get to entertain. I think I will do that to like the thousandth degree. And I definitely think I will be more likely than I used to, to have a cocktail when people arrive. Like I used to always be like, “Oh, I’m already cooking and stuff.” And you know what I mean? When Naomi and I are busy getting ready we would have people over for dinner and say “Oh, here’s a bottle of bubbly,” and don’t get me wrong. I love a bottle of bubbly, but now I feel like I’ve gotten really good at making cocktails, I want to show that off. Right? So it’s like, I’ll have cocktails ready to go, which is super fun and exciting and something that I didn’t used to do that often. But I think I’m really thankful for, and I think we’re talking about entertaining, but the perspective that this has given. And I’ve seen you on Instagram doing this as well, and I love that we’ve realized that we just need to open shit that we think is delicious. There used to be so many bottles of wine that I had gotten and I’d been saving, and these past nine months, I’ve just opened so many of those, and it’s been awesome. And I’ve always thought, “Why was I saving this?” Like, this made Friday night even better. And so Saturday night, Naomi and I are obviously having another night in, but someone, a good friend of ours, sent me some truffles. And so I’m just going to make fresh pasta with butter and open one of these really amazing bottles of Nebbiolo I have. And, it’s Cigliuti, one of my favorite producers. I’m going to open her Barbaresco. And I’m really excited about it. And I think, again, that was a bottle of wine that I would’ve saved for a dinner party probably, and I’m like, no, no. The best thing is to make fresh pasta with butter and truffles and eat it with Naomi. Like, why would I not want to do that? You know? So I think those are things that we’ve all kind of realized we should be doing more of and has been something to reconnect with in all of this.

Z: I’m going to switch gears a little bit and talk about something else that I’ve been really pleased by, which is that you’re and it’s again by necessity, not necessarily by choice, but I think we’re seeing a really interesting shift among craft brewers to really canning and bottling almost all of their production. And I say this as someone who lives around a lot of craft breweries, one of the downsides for me about that in the last couple of years is that with a young kid, pre-Covid, we would sometimes go hang out at a brewery and have a beer or two, but like, he’s not super happy to do that and wants to be entertained. And I don’t want to ruin other people’s experience if they’re not out with kids, which is a challenging thing. But the problem is with a lot of these breweries, yeah, you can buy a bottle or a 6-pack or 4-pack or whatever of some of their core beers, but most of the things that they’re doing that are really interesting were only on draft. And I totally get why. For one, in many of these cases, the beer itself is maybe slightly better when it comes off draft, as opposed to out of a can or a bottle. And I also understand that the margin is much better on a draft beer and they don’t have to pay for canning and all that. But I will say, selfishly, as someone who does most of his drinking as previously mentioned at home, and we’ll probably be doing that even when Covid is not as big a concern, I really love being able to go get really cool, interesting beers from breweries around me and there’s more than ever before, from breweries all over the place in distribution now. And I think that’s hopefully something that persists. I get it, I won’t fault breweries for returning to the previous model of saving a lot of their special beers for taproom-only, draft-only release, but I really hope that there’s a recognition that they’re missing certain bits of their potential customer base, who just can’t go to a brewery all the time. You know, they just don’t have that ability for whatever set of reasons.

A: I agree, man, that’s been super cool. I think we’ve talked about this before, but all of a sudden, the grocery store two or three blocks away from me, that’s not a Whole Foods and not a Trader Joe’s, it’s one of these corner grocery stores, one of these local chains that we have in New York. It’s not an Associated, but it’s kind of an Associated for those of you that are New Yorkers that also kind of get what I’m going with. And all of a sudden their beer selection has just gotten way better. And they have Threes, and KCBC and all these really great beers, and they are beers that, you’re right, I wouldn’t have been able to get unless I’d gone to the brewery. And now they’re there, and it’s cool. And I also, a lot of breweries have started really getting heavily into delivery and that’s also been awesome. So I’ve been able to do cool beer deliveries from places like Torch and Crown, and there’s so many. I want to say KCBC again, ‘cause that’s what I just did recently. But, all these really great breweries in New York City, Other Half, that you just normally wouldn’t have been able to do, you would have had to go to the brewery to get them, and I think delivery has been dope for that, and for cocktails, to be honest. There’s been really cool cocktail bars that have done really great delivery menus that have really added to my weekends, you know? So those are things that I’ve been really, really excited about as we’ve continued to watch people innovate. I think that’s my overall thing I’m thankful for, is that the restaurant and bar world never fail to disappoint when it comes to innovation. It’s always pushing forward. And that’s what I think makes this industry so exciting to you, me, and everyone that listens, is that it’s an industry that’s never stagnant. There’s always people trying to do new things. Always people who are pushing the envelope and even in Covid-19, when and I know we talk about this every week, but it’s true: Please write your congresspeople. Even when Congress has failed to provide restaurant relief, the people who work in these businesses are still pushing forward, and they are still trying to figure out how to have the most amazing experiences for their guests outside. They’re trying to figure out what menus look like. They’re changing their models. They are creating incredible cocktails that you can take to-go. They are figuring out how to turn their restaurants into hybrid wine shops, they’re creating to-go cocktail bars on wheels, like we talked about the company in L.A. that created an ice cream truck that was also a cocktail bar. Like people were just doing the most amazing things. It just proves that there’s a special kind of person that goes into this industry and cannot be held down by anything, even when the government is not wanting to support them at all, which, what the f*** is happening. So that to me has been really awesome to watch, and to watch how much the industry is supporting each other. We talked about it in one of these other interviews that I did recently. I think it was with Ruffian or Popina, there’s just not the competition. Everyone just wants to help each other succeed. And everyone’s really sad when they see something go out and I think that’s just awesome. And it proves that there’s just a special kind of individual that goes into the world of restaurants and bars. And I think it’s great that the other side of the business, the producers, have been supportive. I would encourage the producers to be more supportive. This is not me on my soapbox, but I’m seeing a lot of restaurant people who were very vocal when they were trying to help a lot of the producers stop the tariffs. And were trying to help a lot of the producers make sure that the prices were the way that they should be. I’m not seeing as many producers, to be very honest, being as vocal on social media and things like that in helping the restaurants and pushing Congress to pass relief. And I understand that’s because a lot of producers are making a lot of money right now because your channels just change to off-premise, but it’d be great to see that same kind of support that the industry gives when there’s wildfires and things like that for the producers, that the producers give the restaurant industry. I’m not saying it’s all producers, let’s be clear, but I do think that there should be a much louder voice than people like Bobby Stuckey always on Instagram and Twitter and whatever, reminding people to constantly call their congresspeople and elected officials and say, look, like we gotta help the restaurant industry because if we don’t, we’re going to be screwed come January. And this has got to happen before then. So, I’m thankful for the amazing camaraderie and resilience the restaurant business has, and the people, and I’m a little disappointed in some of the other stuff.

Z: Well, we’ll try and keep things on the positive note. I think actually to that effect, a thing that as someone who spent a long time working in restaurants, I have felt a lot during this year is that one, I think it’s a positive thing for me is that the “reality” of the restaurant industry is being examined and explored in a way that it just had not previously. And that’s in part about just the financial realities of the industry and how precarious it is, even in good times, and how unsustainable in some ways a lot of the things that we took for granted pre-Covid were. It also goes to some really, really painful and hard conversations about representation, and frankly, discrimination, and abuse and all these things in the industry. And again, these things coming to light are painful, for sure. They’re painful for most of all the people who have suffered in these situations, but also for people who generally love the industry and love things about it. It’s never fun to have this stuff come to light, but it’s so essential to moving forward as an industry, moving forward as a broader conversation about drinks and their place in society. And so I do think that one of the great things, in addition to all the innovation you talked about, Adam, with service and delivery and even how drinks are made and designed, and all that, there’s also been some real incredible forums created, conversations started around inclusion and equality and fairness in these industries. And there’s a long way to go. I don’t mean to say we have arrived, but 2020 feels like a year that we will remember for a lot of reasons. And I hope that this is one of them.

A: I agree. I completely agree. I feel like there’s a lot to be thankful for, to be honest. There has been some really good stuff that’s happened this year in a year that has been also really shitty. And these are just a few of them. But I don’t want to have an hour of us rallying off all things we are thankful for. I think we could. But I think these are a good amount of things that we feel really good about and that we think are things that will continue to persist moving forward. I just think we have to have perspective and support each other and continue to enjoy the things we’re enjoying and don’t be precious about those bottles that you’ve been holding. And if you’ve got a beer or a Bourbon County Stout, pop it now, and just enjoy yourself.

Z: Yeah. And let us know what you’re thankful for. We would love to hear. Is it these things? Is it other things? Is it this podcast? That would be delightful.

A: We’ll just give ourselves a little compliment there.

Z: I mean, you know, gotta kind of look out for the home team on occasion.

A: Yeah. As always, shoot us an email at podcast@vinepair.com, and let us know what you’re thankful for. We’d love to hear it. And we’ll read some of those off on a future episode, ‘cause it’d be great to share with everyone who’s been listening to the podcast since Covid, pre-Covid, et cetera to know what you’ve been thankful for this year as we continue to push forward as a beverage industry. Zach, you’ll be here next week. We’ll be talking about Bubbly Week, which is one of my favorite weeks of the year. And for everyone else, thanks for listening. We’ll see you back next week.

Z: Sounds great.

Thanks so much for listening to the VinePair Podcast. If you enjoy listening to us every week, please leave us a review or rating on iTunes, Spotify, or wherever it is that you get your podcasts. It really helps everyone else discover the show. Now for the credits, VinePair produced by myself and Zach. It is also mixed and edited by him. Yeah, Zach, we know you do a lot. I’d also like to thank the entire VinePair team, including my co-founder, Josh, and our associate editor, Cat. Thanks so much for listening. See you next week.

Ed. note: This episode has been edited for length and clarity.

The article Giving Thanks in a Difficult Year for the Drinks Industry appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/thanksgiving-podcast-2020/

[poetic-sinema]

Semblance: Five

A/N: It is a number of years later when Lou Taenaka encounters her former guitar instructor. He is still as calm and collected, but the semblance of attraction is undeniable.  

A Myles Kennedy student/teacher fanfic.

Warnings: It’s trash

Words: 1125

One does not know pain until one has tied their hair with a rubber band and then tried to take it out. I’d ran out of options when I discovered that I’d forgotten to lace my wrist with the hair band I’d taken for granted for always having around and succumbed to the desperation of needing to get my hair out of my eyes while I worked. All things seem to be good ideas until they’re not, like the long bangs I decided to keep, knowing full well I slogged in a kitchen for eight hours on end. 

“Dude, I’m leaving!” Vivienne called out from the front as I heard the rustling of the buckles on her bag slip from the countertop.

“Okay!” I shouted, attention solely focused on detangling my hair off the top of my head from what could only be described as a contraption of torture. I’d barely made a motion to pull upwards in full force before I screamed out in both agony and frustration. It sucks more have this done to the front of your scalp as compared to the back.  It is way too late and I am way too tired to deal with this shit right now, I thought as stomped harshly across the kitchen to fetch a pair of food scissors I knew I had to replace if I ended up going through with this. 

“I don’t think you should do that,” A voice uttered from behind me.

I turned with the scissors still in hand to see Mr. Ken- Myles rubbing the back of his neck with his palm, expression unsure if he should’ve said anything at all, “Vivienne kindda let me in.”

I look like a total fucking idiot, and this guy walks in. Brilliant. 

I huffed at my thoughts, “Help me,” I stated, resigned.

“You know, I’ve always wondered what you’d look like with long hair.” Myles said, undoing the knots that had appeared on the rubber band as it entangled with my bangs. 

I have never had long hair, not that I could remember anyway. My mother would never let my hair grow out any longer than five inches under my nape as a child therefore I’d constantly need to sit on a short stool in the yard every other month so she was able to trim it. I was bowl cut baby from the get-go. 

As habit would have it, I’d kept trimming my hair into adulthood, primarily because I found how uncomfortable it was to have hair stick to your nape. The only difference was that now I was able to grow my fringe out a little more, as a sign of coming of age and cathartic rebellion. 

Then again, rebellion constantly comes with a downside.

“I tried to grow it out when I was sixteen,” I explained, trying to look up only to have the older man shove my head down again, “It seems that I can’t handle the feeling of things growing on the back of my neck so I gave up and chopped it short again.”

“A little bit more,” He soothed. We sat so close that my forehead almost touched his rising chest, his breathing gentle underneath the solid black button up. It seemed that it would’ve only taken a slight flick of a finger to push aside the unbuttoned fabric above his chest so as to expose his skin. 

“There ya go.” Myles declared, letting my bangs fall, covering my forehead and into my eye. His next move appeared unconscious as he tucked the hair behind my ear. It took every inch of fiber within me to not lean into his lingering palm. 

“Sorry.” He was quick to apologize, snatching his hand back as if he’d touched a hot kettle and instantly moved his gaze from mine. 

“It’s fine.” What was a firm, confident statement in my head came out as barely a squeak. 

“So I thought you’d flown off right after the wedding?” I had to scour the back of my head to fill the stillness with something that made sense. The quiet was much too agonizing to bear, and the thoughts running through the surface of my mind made my heart convulse erratically.  

“Your brother convinced me to stay a couple more days,” He started, his eyes travelling back to watch me, “I just finished a record with Slash, and they won’t be needing me in for another week for post production.”

I nodded. I wished I knew a little more about the music making process, or even knew his music at all, so I’d be able to have an input as to what he was doing. But I hadn’t even known he had an international career before last month. What I desperately needed, however, was to fill the silences between our conversations.

“Do you want some coffee, I can make you some coffee.” I offered, finding an urgent need to not sit still.

“Sure.” He gave a small nod. 

“So why’d you name the place Dimitryi’s?” He queried. In the minutes that it took me to make a brew, my former teacher had gotten up to fully inspect the kitchen. My guess was that he was feeling as antsy as I had been.

“There was a point in my life where I thought I’d fallen completely and irrevocably in love with a Dimitryi, and so to keep the memory of him alive, I named the store after him.” 

He twisted around from checking out the pin board we’d used to tag recipes, clearly interested in my story, “Really?”

I snorted, “No, but that would’ve been a really great tale to tell.”

He scrunched his face up in disapproval for making him the fool whilst coming forward to accept the brew I offered him. 

“Naming a bakery is like naming a child,” I started, “But when I first conceptualized the image of this place, I wanted it to be almost a spitting image of what The Butcher’s Brew is. My brothers gave such an identity to that café that it was almost impossible to have an idea even better than that. Latching onto what has established itself as a brand became old quite quickly when I’d realized I wanted the place to be more than what was on the surface. I wanted detail, character, and vigor. And what’s better than to give it a Russian name.”

Myles looked impressed from his seat for a moment before I continued, “Also it’s the name of the cute guy from the film Anastasia.”

He rolled his eyes, “That animated movie with the soundtrack you used to hum along to whenever you stopped paying attention to whatever I’d say in class?”

“Yup.” I nodded, holding in a snicker. 

[jeremystrele]

Artist Dawn Tan On Her Scary Start To Motherhood + Keeping Calm In The Time Of Corona

Artist Dawn Tan On Her Scary Start To Motherhood + Keeping Calm In The Time Of Corona

Family

Ashe Davenport

Photo – Sarah Collins.

Photo – Sarah Collins.

Photo – Sarah Collins.

Photo – Sarah Collins.

Photo – Sarah Collins.

Photo – Sarah Collins.

Photo – Sarah Collins.

Photo – Sarah Collins.

Photo – Sarah Collins.

Photo – Sarah Collins.

Photo – Sarah Collins.

Photo – Sarah Collins.

Photo – Sarah Collins.

Dawn Tan is sunshine in human form. One only needs to glance at her watercolours of Care Bears, croissants and Iced VoVos to figure that out. She makes things that make people happy. And very, very hungry.

Anything’s possible in Dawn’s world. Take for example, her yurt out the back of her Yarraville home, where she teaches art classes. It had been a dream of hers to build one, so that’s exactly what she did. She’s a dreamer and pragmatist, which, objectively speaking, is an unstoppable combination of things. When self-isolation became a reality only a few days ago, Dawn pivoted straight away to offering art resources and classes online to help cooped up kids and parents.

We spoke on the phone on a rainy weekday. Dawn was in her car outside a cafe, inside of which Darren and baby Louie were kindly buying us time. I was struck by her honesty, generosity and strength, both in general and regarding a truly messed up situation. 

Dawn Tan for PM.

How are you guys coping with this whole Corona business?

We’re trying to keep calm and carry on! I guess we’re just going with it day by day because who knows what’ll happen tomorrow? A lockdown for a month? You never know!

Despite the uncertainty, we’ve chosen not to panic buy, as we figured we won’t be building any toilet paper + tinned food forts for protection. Instead, we’re choosing to try and keep things as normal as possible for Louie. I believe kids pick up on their parents’ anxiety, so we’re trying our best not to get too carried away with all the inaccurate social media reporting and political arguments. We’re upping our game with our sanitising regime and I’ve been wiping every surface down. I feel like I’m 38 weeks pregnant again, when my one sole mission was to clean down the entire house Hazmat-suit style! Call me crazy, but I actually do love cleaning.

What’s your parenting mantra?

Go with it. That’s our take. Darren and I made a conscious decision not to read any parenting books or download any of the (parenting) apps. All babies and kids are so different. There’s no ‘one size fits all.’ We figured we’d just wing it, and deal with the poop when the poop hits the fan.

Has it hit the fan? 

Oh yeah. Several times. It’s been a pooplosion. Late last year in particular. There was a lot of crying from all involved. A huge amount of stress. Basically I was sent to a psych unit. It’s a long story.

We have time, if you feel like sharing it.

Well, Louie had severe eczema. He still does. It’s been tricky to manage. In spring last year, it was the worst it had ever been, because it was his first exposure to hay fever season. I couldn’t handle it. He was five months old and just always crying, always screaming, all day and night from all the pain. His onesies and sheets were often stained with blood from scratching. Darren and I slept on either side of him so that we could pin one of his hands each, to try and stop more irritation. We finally took him to emergency one night after his entire torso turned bright red. We were provided with a treatment plan, but it stopped working after two weeks. So we went back. And that’s when it all turned upside down.

How so?

I broke down in emergency and cried my eyeballs out. In addition to seeing Louie in so much pain, an immediate family member had just been diagnosed with cancer and another faced a job loss. Being so far from family, it was hard. Long story short, a social worker told me I had severe postnatal depression and anxiety. I was told it was okay that I couldn’t cope, but that it was normal for babies to scream and cry a lot. I was confused because I knew my normally happy baby was screaming because he was in pain, and yet I was told to accept it.

I was then recommended a night at the psychiatric ward, but I refused to be away from Louie, so we ended up staying with him while he was seen for his eczema. An MRI and scans were ordered, but I wasn’t sure why. We were stuck at the hospital for a week. Turns out, Louie’s MRI was to rule out head trauma. Child protection services even got involved!

HUH?! On what grounds?

I was asked if I’d hurt Louie by a social worker, who thought I’d said, ‘Yes.’ That was it. I had to be placed under supervision and could not be alone with Louie. I couldn’t even feed him in peace. All throughout the week, I was made to believe I had completely lost it. I kept questioning myself and wondering how I ever let it get that bad. There was so much self-blame. It broke me. I was ‘strongly encouraged’ to check into a mother and baby unit. We were told it would be nice and gentle, “like a sleep school.” So we went.

We were promised a calm and nurturing environment, a space where I could chat through my ‘problems’. But it was far from what was promised! Turns out, the unit was for mothers who had been deemed a danger to themselves or their babies. There were no locks on doors. You could tell, everything was ‘suicide-proof.’ We were checked on every hour during the day and even at night, a flashlight came poking in through the door hourly!

I was told admission was voluntary, but it felt like all my rights got taken away the moment I entered. There were words like “applying for leave” and warnings of what would happen if I didn’t return. Sleeping pills were prescribed to “calm my anxiety.”  So yeah, the poop hit the fan, and by that stage, it was flinging everywhere.

How did you get out?

Eventually Darren got quite firm and insisted we speak with the head psychiatrist sooner rather than later. I also spoke to the admissions doctor prior to that, which was when we discovered the grossly inaccurate report. It was stated on my file that I’d hurt Louie, despite all the scans and checks coming back clear. Of course I didn’t hurt him!

Miraculously, I was fast-tracked to see the psychiatrist. And after all of five minutes she could see there had been a huge error. I’d been misdiagnosed. Any new mum would have had a total meltdown given the situation I was in… Simply put, I was under a tremendous amount of pressure, stress and coupled with the lack of sleep, I turned into an emotional wreck at Emergency. We were told to go home right away as being at the unit would do more harm for me mentally. Soon after, Child Protection Services came visiting and ended up apologising for all that had happened. They explained this was the first time in over 20 years that a case had escalated as quickly as mine! Lucky me!

What was the aftermath like?

We’re in the process of making a formal complaint now. It’s a tonne of paperwork, but we have a letter of support from the head psychiatrist, which should be helpful. It’s not a nice thing to have on my file, especially given that I’m a teacher. We’re just trying to stay positive. It happened, and we can’t change it. It can only make us stronger. We’re just so grateful for the two nurses at the crisis unit who could tell something was amiss with my report and advocated to have me discharged. And for all the nurses and pediatricians who took such great care of Louie and supported us.

Has the experience changed the way you seek support now?

Going to or even driving by the hospital can be quite triggering, but we tell ourselves if we are there, that we are there for Louie. So he can seek the best medical help possible. Fear aside, I still believe in speaking up. I always have. That’s why I spoke up in the first place. I think it’s really important to acknowledge and share what you’re going through. Especially if you need help. Mental health is so important and I believe the first step to helping ourselves is to speak up. Darren and I have an open and honest relationship. We share when we’re frustrated or pissed off about something. We have conversations all day long.

‘This too shall pass’ is a thing parents say when things are hard. What are your thoughts on that?

I don’t like it. I know it ‘shall pass.’ Louie has lots of allergic reactions, some that have required ambulance rides to the hospital, and he still has severe eczema. He has flare ups almost every other week. Even a play with some tan bark or a walk on a mildly windy day can trigger an entire week’s worth of flare up. He’s never slept all that much from day dot. He’s a piglet who prefers cat naps and breastfeeds every few hours, 24/7. Needless to say, he’s never slept through the night. The one time he did, we thought Christmas had arrived! 

We count our blessings as we know we have it so good. We are so grateful that Louie is overall a healthy, happy and thriving baby. That said, some days are so hard. I cry my eyeballs out. Sometimes I even regret and question if I’ve ruined my life by becoming a Mum. Then I feel guilty that I’m not appreciating him more, and because I know not everyone is fortunate enough to be able to have kids.

Darren and I went through our own fertility journey with Endometriosis and tricky Fibroids. Louie’s our little miracle. So surely we should never ever feel frustrated about our new life as parents! But some days, it’s just so hard! People often tell me ‘This too shall pass’ but I see it as closing the door on what I’m feeling, and I don’t like that. Whether I’m having a good day or a bad day, I want to acknowledge it. I feel, to become better parents, I need to let my emotions out, accept them, then move on. There’s the good days and the bad. The ups and downs – It’s all part of parenting!

Family Favourites

Favourite at home family activity?

Snuggling in bed solving a Rubik’s cube – Louie’s favourite toy. Hah!

Sunday morning breakfast?

Pancakes with lots of berries and honey!

Go-to album?

We’re classical music nerds. We like old school jazz classics too, Etta James or Frank Sinatra.

From today, every Friday, Dawn will be releasing a FRIDAY FREEBIE FUN Art Lesson on her Instagram TV / Facebook page. Simple, easy to follow along videos for all ages. More great stuff will be released next week, and you can purchase art supplies from Dawn’s online store!

[i-would-rather-be-queen]

BTS Jin AU ‘Wake Me Up Inside’

A/N: Here I go experimenting again. I’m thinking of doing a series of each member being in a different supernatural/mythological setting. It will probably be more sporadic than the Bodyguards but I hope you guys like it. <3

~

Museums had always been a sanctuary for you. They were quiet and filled with beautiful things. A perfect environment in your opinion. You’d never been much of a fan the contemporary movement so most of your time was spent in the classical wing. Some days you’d wander the whole section. Others a certain painting or sculpture would draw you in with its siren call. It wasn’t unheard of for you to spend hours immersed in a single painting, lost in each brushstroke and what it portrayed.

And while the allure of the art pulled at you it also made you feel like you were a step out of time. Anachronistic in your own life. What else were you to feel when the things that spoke to you most were relics, proof of lives that had long since scattered to the wind.

It was sort of like your own life. You did what you were supposed to do as a responsible member of society, whatever that meant. But there was an undeniable absence of passion. Like you were living half a life and waiting for everything to turn to dust along with all the rest. At least being at the museum you felt less lonely, surrounded by echoes of the past. Their only means of surviving the years had been the emotions they invoked in others and something about that resonated with you.

Lately your favorite had been a marble statue. It wasn’t depicting a moment caught in the heat of battle or a lovers’ tryst, merely a man standing in a flowing tunic and sandals. Nonetheless it was glorious. A true masterpiece of craftsmanship with intricate detail and flawless in its execution. From its masculine yet cherubic face to the lines of musculature in the arms. It seemed so real. In the past if you were entranced by a certain piece of art it would fade after a day. But not so with the sculpture. It seemed to have its own gravity that relentlessly tugged at the center of your being.

Day after day you returned. It almost became an obsession. Even if you could only stay for five minutes you had to see him. And yes, you’d begun to think of it as a ‘him’. You knew it wasn’t logical, that it was in fact not even the slightest bit healthy. But his face, it was so kind it made all of the stresses of your day fade away like so much white noise in the background. No matter how bad it had been, his angelic expression which was always there waiting for you, made it better. It was a reliable source of comfort you sorely needed at times.

Since you were so far gone already, you decided to throw sanity to the wolves and began talking to him. Whispering your worries and even trivial daily experiences. You didn’t really have anyone else to talk to and sometimes it helped. Often you’d have an answer after having to organize your thoughts enough to speak them aloud.

But what started as an odd habit became something you felt ashamed of, your guilty little secret. Reasoning that if you were doing something you felt you had to hide then perhaps you shouldn’t be doing it. You began to visit less frequently then not at all. Avoiding the museum altogether because you knew if you crossed its threshold you’d inevitably end up in front of the sculpture once again.

It was around this time you’d accepted the offer of a date. Not a commonplace event in your life but he seemed nice enough to give him a try. Even brought you a rose, albeit one of those single stems wrapped in cellophane that were sold at gas stations. Though you appreciated the gesture it seemed almost an afterthought on his part.

The conversation that night was all about him. There were never any questions about yourself. You even point blank asked if there was anything he wanted to ask. It’s then you realized his words didn’t match his actions. All of the flattering statements to turn your head were just that. There was no indication of any genuine interest other than the surface level. You were a conquest to be wined and dined, not a person to get to know.

Politely you declined any future dates. On your way home you checked the time and noticed there was about an hour before the museum closed. You hadn’t been there in about a week and your spirits were especially low after your farce of an attempt at a connection.

Nodding to the security guard you entered and saw that the museum was pretty much empty. This late on a weeknight it didn’t surprise you. Automatically you headed to the back of the Greco-Roman section where the sculpture was located. When it came into sight you felt both a lightness of being and a weight in your heart. It was good to see him, almost like seeing a friend. But the reality of what the world truly had to offer instead of this fantasy seemed to depress you all the more.

Surreptitiously you reached out and traced along the topside of his foot. Instead of the gritty, granular feeling that came from touching new marble your fingers glided along like glass. Of course it was smooth, it had been around for thousands of years and polished on top of that. Impulsively but still feeling the fool you whispered, “Why is it nothing feels real but you? What’s wrong with me?”

Dejectedly you unwrapped the sad little rose that matched your mood and placed it at the statue’s feet. You knew the flower wouldn’t be allowed to remain but for now it was your small offering to a wish that could never be.

With a sigh you turned to leave. After a few steps you heard a voice behind you say, “I’ve missed you.”  

Wide eyed with shock you spun around. A living, breathing person stood on the pedestal. He was real. What the hell was happening? Words were beyond your capability at the moment. Your heart was beating so fast you thought it might give out.

Wearing a serene smile he stepped down from the plinth. He was just as gorgeous if not more so now that he was made flesh. But his eyes where what transfixed you. Before they were the only thing about him that seemed devoid of life. Now they were brimming with warmth and humor.

“I’m sorry.” His voice washed over your senses, calm and soothing. You were mesmerized. “I know this must be a horrible shock.”

“What—Who are you?”

“My name is Paphos.” He waited like he expected that to mean something to you. At your blank stare he added, “The son of Pygmalion and Galatea.”

Pygmalion. That rang a bell. Something in Greek mythology about a man who brought a statue to life. But it was just a myth and this certainly wasn’t ancient Greece. “But that’s just a story.”

“Don’t most stories hold a grain of truth?”

“This isn’t a grain, it’s a boulder.” Belatedly you became aware that the security guard could find you any minute. How would you explain talking to someone who looked like a cosplayer for the Trojan War?

The gift shop.

The store was closing up for the night and obviously you’d irritated the employee when you entered. Begging to be given five minutes you raided the clothing section. First thing you grabbed an oversized sweatshirt featuring the museum logo. Unfortunately there wasn’t much in the way of pants but you found a pair of Dali print shorts on clearance. After making your purchases you rushed back to the corner you’d stuck Paphos in to hide. Shoving your bag into his hands you led him to the men’s bathroom and waited impatiently for him to change.

Despite the situation it was hard not to laugh when he came out. His outfit was hideous. Somehow though he was handsome enough to pull it off. Barely.

Nonchalantly as possible you had him follow you out the exit of the museum. True, you’d come in alone but the guard certainly wouldn’t think he was a statue that had come to life. Oh god were you cracking up? What if you were talking to thin air?

Not sure what else to do you led him to a bench on the grounds that remained accessible even after hours. Even sitting next to him he seemed so unreal you continued to stare until he blushed. Raising your hand you laid it against his cheek. Soft skin gave way to your touch. The color evidence of the blood that flowed beneath. He was no longer cold immutable stone.

He was alive.

“I don’t understand.”

“Like I said, I’m the son of Pygmalion and Galatea. I had a sister as well, Metharme. Our mother came to life as a gift to our father for his prayers to Aphrodite. Through their happy union we were born. But after both of them died my sister and I were turned to marble, just as our mother had once been. We were told that we’d only return to life if someone would love us as much as our father had loved our mother.”

It was your turn to blush, feeling embarrassed at what he was implying.

“I wasn’t always aware,” he continued. “But when you showed up it felt like waking up from a deep slumber. The more you visited the more I was coming alive. But then you stopped. My heart ached and missed you terribly. I longed to hear your voice again.”

A self-deprecating chuckle slipped out. “Even if I was complaining about my car breaking down?”

“Especially then. Sometimes I didn’t understand what you were talking about but I understood your sorrow, your frustration, your loneliness. I desperately wanted to take you in my arms and comfort you.” He opened his arms and instantly you wanted to fall into them. “Is it ok?” he asked.

His eyes promised so much love your own began to water. Letting him envelop you it felt like going home. Resting there against his chest, listening to his heart beat, you knew your trips to museums were at an end. You’d finally found your place to belong.    

After a few days you began to see that he wasn’t perfect as you assumed he’d be. Though just as beautiful as before, he had a delightfully quirky personality complete with a squeaky laugh. And you loved him all the more for his uniqueness. It was a joy to discover that his transformation into a human being included being human.  

Paphos acclimated to modern day life through television and trips outside with you whenever possible. As a show of gratitude he began cooking dinner for you nightly. The two of you were gaining a rhythm to life together.

It wasn’t long before he started to make forays out into the world on his own. Mostly to the markets for fresh ingredients. He nearly had a heart attack the first time you introduced him to processed foods. One night after the two of you had eaten and were curled up on the couch together he mentioned that his name made him feel old-fashioned. He wanted something more contemporary.

Brushing some stray hairs from his eyes you said, “Oh really? Any ideas?”

“Jin.”

It suited him. Leaning in to kiss lips that shouldn’t be as soft as they were, you agreed. “I like it. It’s nice to meet you Jin. Welcome home.”​

[samsegrist]

Twin Peaks Time Capsule

By Sam Segrist

May 21, 2017

Tonight, in less than half a day, I’ll be seeing something I never thought I’d see: a new episode of Twin Peaks. For fifteen years, there’s been an ache in my heart at the lack of resolution to the season two finale, which—for my money—is television’s greatest unresolved cliffhanger. Perhaps this is why I’ve grown fond of making a semi-annual vacation to this strange and beautiful mountain town which reminds me of my own home, Scottsbluff: a place of weird, desperate, flawed, good people. Repeated viewings never fail to allow me to savor the bittersweet quality of this enigmatic narrative puzzle, a 29-episode loop which compels viewers who fall under its spell to return to the scene of the crime, always just outside of the Martells’ estate, by the lake and the big rock, where millions of people can find, over and over again, the plastic-wrapped bouquet of Laura Palmer’s body.

Over the years, if there’s one thing I’ve discovered, it is that everyone who loves Twin Peaks has a story about when, where, why, and how they fell in love with the show. Mine was back in 2002, when I was working overnights as a telephone switchboard operator for the University of Nebraska-Lincoln. I was a college student, spinning my wheels academically while finding out that working from midnight until 7 AM, while good for my grades, was not so good for my social life.

This job entailed sitting in front of a computer, with one other operator in the elevated cubicle behind me, waiting for an emergency call to come in or (usually) a false fire alarm. Most nights, nothing happened in the quiet call center of Nebraska Hall. I worked with two other nerdy, but nice enough, guys: a middle-aged David with a mustache who looked like Van Dyke Parks, and a guy named Clay, who resembled a much less creepy Jacque Renault.

There was a television in the upper corner of the call center that was always on. Back then on boring nights, we’d flip through channels to find something, ANYTHING, to watch that was remotely good. We found out Bravo broadcast two back-to-back reruns of Twin Peaks between the hours of three and five A.M. (Before this exposure, I had seen Dune, Blue Velvet, and Lost Highway, and, while they disturbed me, they didn’t hook me with the same fascination as Twin Peaks.) I can’t remember what my first episode was, but I do remember the odd magnetism of the show, how it pulled me out of the sterile cubicle environment and into its dream-world.

Going to work often meant leaving house parties-in-progress or Halo marathons with my roommates, but I looked forward to this mid-shift excursion when I hoped no calls or flashing lights would break the dream reality of the show. (“Through the darkness of future’s past/One magician longs to see/One chants out between two worlds/Fire alarm don’t interrupt me…”) The one-two punch of weirdness which I viewed every shift was compounded by the fact that I missed several episodes on my nights off. Over the course of several months, I saw every episode, but never in consecutive order. A few nights ago I was relating this to my friends Chelsea and Dylan (pronounced Dye-lan), and the realization struck me that I saw Episode 29 several times before realizing the finale, with Dale and the toothpaste and the cracked mirror, was the end of the show! I remember being somewhat mystified when I would show up for work on the next night only to be right smack back at the beginning with the pilot episode. My lack of context regarding the show’s history only added to the mystery and the yearning for resolution.

So, every two weeks, the show would start over, and I would tune in. Both David and Clay seemed to enjoy revisiting the show. I distinctly remember Clay exclaiming “Coop! I love that guy!” when Kyle MacLachlan first showed up on screen.

I eventually lost that overnight switchboard job because I realized I was missing out on too much college life while living at the Blue House. (I had called in sick so I could go on a date with a beautiful girl named Sarah. ((I remember us grilling shish kabobs at my drummer’s house.)) Someone at work somehow knew about this, squealed on me, and my boss figured they’d give me the benefit of the doubt, give me the chance to explain myself, but I was a no-call no-show the next night. D’oh! I guess I was so lovestruck I didn’t care about the consequences. No worries, though, it all worked out: my next job at Blockbuster was to be a much more significant place of employment, but that’s a subject for another entry…)

One thing which initially appealed to me about Sarah was her love of similar things dark and quirky, things like David Lynch. It was at one of the infamous Blue House parties where our conversation led us down this path. I figured any girl who was into Twin Peaks was all right in my book. I later found out her mother was a big fan from back in the day and had programmed her VCR to record the episodes. That’s dedication to truly can’t-miss-television back in the day! As the years go by, Sarah reminds me more and more of Norma, which I suppose makes me more and more like Big Ed. C’est la vie for sweethearts of the past…  

It was sometime after that in the middle-aughts that a couple named Nick and Sara Arling invited me to their apartment for a biweekly Twin Peaks viewing. It’s funny, but I don’t remember meeting these two wonderful people at all; all I remember is how fun it was to go to their house in the Near South of Lincoln every other Sunday evening to watch three episodes with a group of people. This was how I also met a great young couple named Justin and Noel (pronounced No-elle). Years later, they would invite me to a Halloween party at their house where I met a stunning brunette named Stacy. I was dressed as a chocolate shake. She was dressed as Audrey Hepburn’s character from Breakfast at and was impressed when I complimented her on her Holly Golightly costume. (Any other schmoe could have just said “Nice Audrey Hepburn outfit.”) It was only later on, I realized how striking of a resemblance she had to Sherilynn Fenn BKA Audrey Horne. Funny how the love of a show can lead to love in real life.

One final thing about this Sunday Night Twin Peaks Club is that it was the first time I saw the entire series in chronological order with the Log Lady intros. The entire series was not yet available on DVD, so seeing the show in its grainy VHS was probably the closest I’d ever get to seeing the show the way it was originally seen.

To augment my love of the story, I hunted down the out-of-print books The Autobiography of FBI Special Agent: Dale Cooper: My Life, My Tapes and The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer. Besides being good reads, they were inspirations for how to write an epistolary story for my master’s thesis and first book.

In the spring of 2005 (or 2006?), I drove to Fairfield, Iowa to attend a weekend conference on Transcendental Meditation at the Maharishi University of Management to hear David Lynch speak. It was like getting to spend a weekend with an eccentric and groovy uncle, but perhaps the best thing that came out of it was I was able to ask him two questions during a Q & A which I then put on YouTube. You can check it at this URL (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R1E5SJaXc30&t=87s) or by searching for “David Lynch Q & A on Season 3 of Twin Peaks “ to see what he has to say about my idea finishing Twin Peaks. Keep in mind, I never thought they’d ever actually make another season though!

One sticky point of contention, I’ve only ever seen Fire Walk With Me once. I was one of many fans who was disappointed that Lynch didn’t use the movie as an opportunity to finish the story. The cinematography is gorgeous, but it veers too far in tone from the delightful mix of the television show. I also find it way too disturbing, obscene, and unnecessary to actually see the rape scenes. Now that the new show is almost upon us, I worry the R-rated freedom Lynch will have will mean these new episodes will also be more darkness than light. Say what you will about censorship, but I think Lynch thrived under the limitations of broadcast television because there was a line he could press up against, but not cross. When there is no line, some creators don’t know when to stop…

Fast-forward to 2007-2008 and I was a first-year teacher in Omaha. I was so excited that the Gold Box, the complete edition of Twin Peaks was coming out on DVD that I spent more money than I should have at the Borders at 72nd & Dodge (R.I.P.) and watched them all with my girlfriend Rachel in my little one-bedroom apartment in the Old Market. That was a really hard year for both of us. I was woefully unprepared to teach children of poverty and she was trying to figure out what she wanted to do with her life after graduating from St. Andrews College in Scotland. Though there was much tension and drama, I do believe we helped each other get through that year. One of the many things I love about this show is sharing it with people who’ve never seen it before, to see their reactions.

The last girlfriend I would ever watch it with was Abby in the fall/winter of 2008. Things were not going well with our whirlwind of a romance, and I remember sensing things were darkening and souring between us. As we neared the end of the show, there was a sense of an ending brewing. She didn’t know about the cliffhanger finale, and I remember her wondering aloud how the show could possibly wrap up all its threads in the last episode, but as soon as Episode 29 ended, it was like she felt like it was okay to end the relationship because we had concluded the business of our mutual vacation in Twin Peaks. It wasn’t meant to be, and that’s okay.  

Fast-forward to Christmas 2014. My brother and I have an annual tradition which we picked up from our grandmother Betty where we send each other a list of potential gifts we’d like to get, not knowing which one will actually be chosen. This way we always get something we’re sure to enjoy, but there’s still an element of surprise. That Christmas was one of the best ever because my dear brother Mark got me the Complete Mystery box-set on Blu-Ray. (Hint, if you ever want to feel creepy, just run your finger over the front of the set and you’ll be able to feel the contour of Laura’s eyeballs through the blue eyelids. Who thought of that? Who greenlit that icky detail? I want to know.)

 And then it was 2015 and the internet found out the rumors were true and the show was coming back. I suspected at the time (and still think) the whole “David Lynch is walking away from the revival because they’re not going to give him enough money to do it right” was a publicity stunt to drum up a fervor online, to measure just how many people care about the show coming back. I remember thinking, Oh, the dispute was about money? And now they’ve doubled the number of episodes from 9 to 18? I wouldn’t rule it out in this day and age of innovative and unorthodox market research, but I digress…

Once I heard they were bringing back the show, I thought it’d be fun for my wife Maddie and I to watch the show together, but she can’t get past the quirky cheesiness or kitsch of it all. She just thinks it’s a bad show and rolls her eyes. I hope she gives it another shot in the future, otherwise our trip together to Snolqualmie, WA to see the locations of the show will not be as much fun! Haha!

[When I think of the Giant’s warning that “It is happening again” I just think that’s such a cryptic and terrifying statement. What is “it”? When did it last happen? What happened? What was the result? Wait a second, the verb “happen” is in the present progressive tense! It’s occurring right now! When will it stop?!? J I’ll likely write about this at greater length later on, but I believe there is a Holocaust subtext to Twin Peaks, and something about the dark return of this show somehow anticipates and foreshadows the rise of Trump. That’s all I’m going to write about that today…]

As the big date of the return has drawn nigh, I’ve enjoyed listening to the vinyl reissues of the soundtracks and reading the 33 & 3rd book about Angelo Badalamenti’s score. It’s also been a treat finding out that cool students of mine like Caitlyn are interested in the series. I’m an (old) millennial fan, which means I only got into the show AFTER Twin Peaks mania. It’s a strange feeling to become so fanatical about something that was once SOOO popular which then became a weird cult show. I wonder what it will be like to revisit Twin Peaks: The Return in 25 years.

My most recent reviewing of the show happened this spring. I had the joy of watching it all with my sister Katie. She got hooked on the show like crazy. I’m glad we were able to watch the show together because in about a month she is moving to Alabama, and we may not ever live in the same town again, but we’ll have had this brother-sister bonding experience.  

Anyhow, I’m cutting this real close, but the show will be live in about forty minutes! So I thought I’d wrap this up briefly outlining what some of my fears and desires and questions about the new show will be. I wonder how the show will maintain the atemporal vibe. Will there be cell phones and texting in Twin Peaks? How will they advance the story and resolve leftover mysteries from Season 2? I know Showtime probably wants the show in widescreen, but I feel like the 1.33 aspect ratio is practically a character or a force of nature in the show, forcing the director, cinematographer, and actors to compose every shot a certain way. I suppose what would be the best of both worlds would be if they stream/broadcast it in widescreen and then make a Blu-Ray collection where there is a full-frame option. I doubt that will occur, but you never know.

I know, I know it will never and can never be the same, but I am cautiously optimistic that Frost and Lynch will find a way to capture the magic again and transport millions of viewers to that sublime place we call Twin Peaks. In this age of Netflix-pioneered season dumps, I find it exciting that the Summer of 2017 will be ineffably tied to a weekly installment of this show, so that we’ll get the opportunity to watch each episode as they come out and then run to the Great Online Watercooler to converse with all the other fans. If the show is bad, I know I will not be able to unsee it, and I’ve been down this pop-cultural road before where long-awaited and unexpected returns/revivals/installments become bitter disappointments, which are sometimes so bad that they retroactively taint the way one thinks of the earlier work. (I’m looking at you, George Lucas.) It is for that reason I wanted to make this memory time capsule, documenting just how much this show has meant to me throughout these last fifteen years.

There’s less than half an hour until the new show starts. I was almost done when I got a call from my best buddy Zach. He recently watched all 29 episodes and didn’t know that the new season was about to start tonight. We’ve made plans to talk as soon as the premiere is over. I told him he’d be a part of this document. I like to think he and I have the kind of love for each other that FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper and Sheriff Harry Truman have for each other, and hey, we do!

So, now it’s getting dark and the trees are not stirring on this windless May night in Lincoln, Nebraska. All these words are now written down for posterity. They may not be wrapped in plastic, but they’re still beautiful. I know I will write about this show more in the future, but for now, I’ll just have to trust that I’ll see you in the trees.