#but it was too windy for ladders

[tj-crochets]

I felt like doing some hand sewing today and still had a few of those “some assembly required” mini embroidered plushie kits, so here’s a little starry rainbow cat!

I did not do the embroidery, I’ll add the link to the etsy shop I got it from in a minute once I find it again

[familyvideostevie]

𝟭𝟮 𝗱𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗰𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗺𝗮𝘀: 𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗼𝗻𝗲

day one: tree lighting with steve | fluff, first kiss, 1.1k 12 days of christmas masterlist

It takes a few dates for you to realize it. Steve Harrington, despite being almost unbelievably handsome and funny and even a little bit of a dork, seems to forget how lovely he is. You know he used to walk around the halls of Hawkins High like he owned it, his attitude as big as his ego and his hair. But these days he's softer around the edges, looser even. It's kind of amazing to watch. 

Now, on your fourth date, you have to force yourself not to stare. Well, you think this is a date. You saw a movie a few weeks ago, then you went to dinner just you two last Friday, and just a few days ago you went on a drive for no reason. But he hasn't kissed you. You are trying very hard not to dwell on it.

The town square is full of people waiting for the thousands of tiny bulbs to be lit, illuminating the town and almost every tree in it. The high school choir is singing carols and people all around you are chatting and drinking hot chocolate. You and Steve are huddled close because it's a bitter Indiana night, arms linked together as you share your own steaming up of cocoa. He finishes taking a swig before passing it to you. You press your lips to the spot where his were and once again wonder if you're ever going to get to kiss him for real. What if he's just being nice? What if you're just...friends? Yeah, you think, the way he wrapped his scarf around you when you got here was real friendly.

"And then I almost feel off the ladder because Henderson decided to stop holding it at the bottom right when it got windy." He's telling you about the favor he did for Dustin's mom, putting her lights up, and you're just watching him talk. His cheeks are rosy and his hair is sticking out from under his hat and he is so pretty you have to hold in a sigh. "But I didn't fall because I have great balance, obviously, and I'll drive you by the house after this because it really does look great--"

"Steve," you interrupt him. 

"Yeah?" His attention turns to you immediately, eyes roaming over your face. Are they lingering on your lips or are you imagining things? You hand him the hot chocolate cup, but put a hand around his gloved one once he takes it from you. The carolers are singing louder now and some guy dressed as Santa is getting ready to pull the switch to light up the town, but you keep your eyes on Steve.

"Are we dating?" you ask him and try not to wince. You probably shouldn't be so that blunt so you don't scare him away. His eyes widen and his lips part. 

"Oh," he breathes out. You feel it on your cheek. "I, uh. I kinda thought so?" He sounds a little sheepish, like he's realizing he should have addressed this sooner. You think that maybe this is the core of Steve Harrington -- a boy who wants to love and be loved in return, his heart on his sleeve. 

"Okay," you say, smiling to reassure him. Heat builds in your chest, a fondness that you figure you're going to have to get used to around him. "I just wanted to check. Because I've been having lots of fun with you --" His brows start to furrow and you realize this is starting to sound like a possible breakup, so you hurry forward. "I have just been wondering why you haven't kissed me yet?" Your voice goes up at the end and you start to feel a little embarrassed. 

But Steve's face transforms into a boyish smirk and he presses into your side a little more and turns so your faces are even closer. "Is that so?" he teases. "You wanna kiss me?" He scrunches his nose in fondness at the indignant sound you make. "Oh, you want me to kiss you?"

"Well, if you're gonna be smug about it, I take it back --"

"Oh no, no," he says, tapping the side of your boot with the toe of his. "No take-backs. Plus, I want to kiss you, too." He unlinks your arms and pulls his hand out of his pocket to cup your jaw. You can feel the heat of his palm through his glove and he smiles, this one a little shy rather than cocky. Steve is so close now that you can count every one of his eyelashes and freckles. The hot chocolate cup you're both holding is cradled between your chests and you have a passing thought that you shouldn't crush it.

In the background people are counting down but the rest of the world fades away as you close your eyes and tilt your head a little and wait to see what he does. You feel a puff of warm breath on your lips just before he brings his mouth to yours in a soft, sweet kiss. You pull your hand from the cup and put it on his elbow, pulling him closer as your noses bump and you start to smile so much it's hardly a kiss anymore, just the press of your grins together as you both barely contain your joy. 

Kissing Steve is better than you imagined it would be. It's the kind that feels like the start of something, the kind that makes a knot you didn't you know had in your chest unravel, the kind that makes you tingle all the way to your toes. 

The cheers of the crowd fade back into your hearing and the real world reappears around you. You open your eyes and find Steve bathed in the warm glow of the Christmas lights that now shine from every tree and lamppost in town. But you barely look at the display because you can't take your eyes off of Steve. He looks...beautiful, still smiling, cheeks pink not just from the cold, and he leans in again to press a quick kiss to your temple before tucking you back into his side, arm around your shoulders.

"Not too shabby," he says, looking around you at the glowing square. You warp an arm around his waist as he pulls you close and you lean your head on his shoulder and close your eyes for just a second, taking a deep breath. He smells like hot chocolate and detergent up close. 

"I think it's perfect," you say. He squeezes you just a little before you feel him press a kiss to your hair. "Just perfect."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, masterlist here!

[here2bbtstrash]

real magic - teaser (explicit)

❆ genre: smut, fluff, bangin’ your boss, m attempts kidfic

❆ pairing: namjoon x reader

❆ summary: the holiday season has never meant anything to you beyond suffering long hours for minimum wage and awaiting the collapse of capitalism— but this year, you’d be willing to add making out with your DILF coffee shop boss to the list.

❆ teaser word count: 1.4k

❆ teaser contains: the good ol' "moving back to your hometown" hallmark trope, the bittersweet nostalgia of the holidays when you're not a kid anymore, moni being a little shit, sweaty namjoon (YES that's a warning 😩), namjoon in a protect trans kids shirt (oop i told you it was coming!!!!), all wrapped up in a nice lil meet-cute bow 🎁

❆ part of a hyung holiday collab - dropping december 2022!

❆ A/N: ahhhhh i am SO EXCITED about this collab y'all 🫠 hope you're ready for some hot dad namjooooooon~ and i'm beyond stoked for the hyung goodness @nabiolive @gimmethatagustd and @haliiimede are gonna bless us with like we're not WORTHY 😭 be sure to go check out their teasers and show them some love!!! 🤍

With several hours to kill before your job interview and a growing desire to avoid the weird nostalgia of your childhood that seems to lurk in every corner of your parents’ house, you decide to take a walk.

The sky is bright blue and cloudless, and though the air is brisk, it isn’t terribly windy. You tuck in your earbuds as you shut the front door behind you and pick a direction, aimless, letting your mind wander to the soundtrack of your “seasonal depression” playlist.

A whole new crop of families must have moved into your parents’ neighborhood in the years since you moved out, because the streets are more alive with kids than you can ever remember them being, even when you were a kid yourself. Bikes and scooters lay abandoned on the sidewalks between homes, and you can hear the repeated echo of a basketball dribbling on a driveway, punctuated by distant, playful screaming.

Even in the daytime, you can tell these families have spared no expense when it comes to Christmas decor: some homes have every eave outlined in string lights, some have candy cane stakes dug into the perimeter of their perfectly manicured lawns, and some have been seemingly invaded by small armies of inflatable reindeer and snowmen. You can’t help but giggle a little at the inflatable decorations that have been set to turn off during the day, the way the airless material lays limp in the grass, giving the impression of a yard strewn with dead bodies.

But you remember what it looked like when you drove in last night, everything lit up and brought to life.

Your parents definitely didn’t have inflatable lawn decorations when you were a kid, but you’d get so excited every year when your dad would drag the ladder out and spend the day stringing up the simple rainbow lights you did have. You still remember the little spark of joy you’d feel in your chest when the colors would click on after dark, the way you would run outside every night just to see them twinkle, your breath puffing steam clouds in the air, your bare feet freezing on the ice-cold driveway.

It felt like magic then. But somewhere along the way you grew up. And now that feeling’s gone. Even at night, the lights just look like… lights.

Distracted as you are by the music in your ears and thoughts of your childhood that have brought you to a standstill on the sidewalk, you don’t notice what’s happening until it’s too late. 

A blur of red and white is suddenly circling around and between your legs, and you feel something twining over your ankles, then tugging with a force that threatens to knock you off balance. As you lean forward in an attempt to right yourself, the chaos in question slows enough for you to realize it’s a fluffy white dog in a red sweater, who has excitedly tangled you up in his leash.

You manage to find the looped end of the leash and slowly get yourself unwrapped while the dog continues to pant and jump and occasionally yap at you. With your legs freed, you squat down for a proper greeting, laughing to yourself as he lifts up on his hind legs, balancing his paws on your knee to lick an enthusiastic greeting across your cheek.

“Hi, puppy,” you murmur, trying to get him to hold still long enough to read the name on his tag. A voice beats you to it.

“Moni!”

When you glance up to find Moni’s owner jogging up the sidewalk, you have to make a conscious effort to keep your own tongue in your mouth, because good lord, he is fine.

He’s tall, towering over you even once you bring yourself back up to standing, and the black workout tank and athletic shorts he’s wearing do absolutely nothing to hide the thick, well-defined muscles of his arms, chest, and thighs.

Despite his lack of clothing in the cool winter air, you can see his face and neck are slick with sweat, his white-blonde hair damp with it too. There’s even a dark patch that’s soaked his shirt at his sternum, making the firm swell of his pecs that much more apparent. It takes you an extra second to break eye contact with them, but when you do finally manage to drag your gaze up to meet his, you realize his face is just as nice of a view: honey-tan skin, full lips, and cute dimples that pop as he gives a sheepish, appreciative laugh.

“Thank you,” he says, a little breathless; his voice is deep and slightly husky in a way that makes your face grow hot. You blink stupidly at him for a few moments, your mind reeling, and then it occurs to you that you still have his dog’s leash in your hand.

“No problem,” you manage, handing the looped end back over and double-checking to make sure your ankles are still free from their entanglement. Though now that this man is holding the leash, you kind of wish they weren’t.

“Moni’s usually good about not taking off when I stop to do a circuit,” he explains, like you’re the dog owner police. It makes you wonder what kind of Karens must have moved into this neighborhood since you left it. “I don’t know why he ran, maybe he saw a squirrel or something.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him with a smile, admiring Moni as he stretches and settles into a polite seated pose. “I like his sweater.”

“Thanks,” he laughs again. “C’mon Mon.”

You can’t help focusing on how big this guy’s hands are as he slips his fingers through the end of Moni’s leash, tugging slightly as if to encourage the dog back in the direction he came from.

Moni blinks and stays right where he is.

“You little shit,” his owner huffs under his breath, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep from laughing. You distantly realize you should probably leave them to it and continue on your walk, but this is too entertaining to turn away from now. Your hot neighbor tries one more futile attempt to get Moni to move, then seems to give up entirely.

He stoops down with a low grunt of effort that makes your core flutter as he grabs the fluffy dog and hoists him up in his arms. You try to force yourself to stop noticing the way his biceps flex, the fact that the muscles of his arms are nearly bigger than your head.

“Thanks again,” he says with a final grateful smile, and your only response is to swallow hard and stand there like an idiot as he turns and carries his spoiled dog back home.

When you arrive for your interview, you’re delighted to discover that Indigo Coffee is nothing like your last job. It’s warm and bright, with large picture windows that flood the space in sunlight, and there’s a cozy personal touch to it, the likes of which you’d certainly never see in your former corporate shell of a workplace. The sitting area is dotted with live edge wood tables and mismatched chairs. There are an array of framed paintings on the walls that look handmade in a good way, simple yet bold brush-stroke lines in a deep blue color scheme. And, you realize as your eyes linger, the shop is absolutely overflowing with plants: in simple clay pots lined up along the windows, free-standing between tables, and tucked into bookshelves placed artfully throughout the space. 

You step closer to inspect one as you wait on your interviewer and are pleased to see that it’s real, that they all are— no waxy fake leaves jammed into a thick block of cement, but real greenery sprouted in real dirt, deep brown soil gone soft from what must have been a recent watering. These are plants someone cares for, coaxed and kept alive by someone’s time and patience and love. The thought makes you smile a little despite yourself.

There’s still fucking Christmas music playing, but you figure that’s inescapable this time of year.

“Are you here for the interview?” someone asks over your shoulder. As you turn away from the plant, you wonder if you’re imagining that the voice in question sounds slightly familiar, and then you find yourself once again staring up at a fine-ass man with white-blonde hair and a sweet pair of dimples.

He’s clearly showered since your last encounter, and is now slightly more covered up in a pair of faded jeans and a gray-green flannel thrown over a black shirt emblazoned with bold white lettering: Protect Trans Kids.

“Oh.” Moni’s owner blinks back at you, and the shock on his face is so apparent that a giggle escapes your lips before you can stop it. “Uh, hi again.”

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #112

Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily (haven't missed one yet!) and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please like and reblog if you enjoy - the notes keep me going!

It was dark and windy, and there was no sound but the rustling of the trees and a faint whisper of shovelfuls of dirt hitting the ground.

Bongo wiped the sweat off his forehead and stuck his shovel into the soil so he could lean on the handle. “Hey boss, this deep enough?”

Don ‘Rigatoni’ Leo approached the side of the hole and looked down into it. “Is it six feet?”

“I think so, boss.”

“You think so? Hey Danny boy, this guy thinks he’s dug us a six-foot deep hole.”

Danny put down his Playboy and chuckled. “Oh, he thinks so huh?”

Bongo held out his arms. “Come on, guys, how am I supposed to know how deep it is?”

His question was answered with a tape measure that only just barely missed his head. Bongo unfurled it and measured the wall of the hole.

“Ha! Six feet, two inches! Help me out!”

Danny approached the edge and held out his hand. “Here, give me the shovel first.”

Bongo handed it over.

“And you better give me that tape measure, too.”

Bongo threw it up to him and he caught it.

“Thanks, pal.” Danny put on some gardening gloves and took hold of the shovel.

“Hey, hey!” Bongo shouted. “Whaddaya doin’?!?”

Danny shoveled a few loads of dirt onto Bongo’s head, and he spit it out, trying to cover his face.

“It’s not funny!” Bongo protested, though the Don and Danny were laughing their asses off about it.

“Alright, alright,” Don Rigatoni said when he managed to catch a breath. “Hand him the ladder, will ya Danny?”

Bongo climbed out of the hole and brushed himself off, glaring at the other two men and shaking his head. “Youse got a lot of nerve.”

The Don slapped Bongo’s cheeks. “Tell ya what, Bongo, to make it up to ya, I’ll let you sleep in the pizza oven tonight.”

“You’d let me do that, boss?”

“For you? My favorite idiot? No question. Just take a damn shower first, ya bozo, ya look like you’ve been sleeping with the worms.”

Bongo shook his head and walked back to the car.

“Alright, Danny boy,” Don Rigatoni put his hand on his shoulder. “It’s time. We finish this job, and we go home for lasagne. My mother’s gravy recipe is to die for.”

Danny smiled and nodded, and they unlocked the trunk of the car.

“This fuckin’ piece of shit…” Danny said as he looked into the trunk. “We shoulda done this a long time ago.”

“Yeah, well, it’s done now.”

“They’ve seen too much, Don! Too much!”

“Will you fuhgettaboutit and help me dump the bag into the goddamn hole, Danny?”

With a heavy heave-ho, the two sent the burlap sack tumbling into the grave, and it spilled out to reveal the contents: all the Ring doorbells from their neighborhood.

The Don dusted off his hands and nodded. “I’ll be in the Cadillac.”

Danny began shoveling the dirt back into the hole and angrily muttered about police surveillance - easily one of his biggest pet peeves.

[blocksruinedme]

SmallEtho Week day 3 is coming out on day 4, and day 2 still needs editing, but whatever! My shortest fic ever. Joel and Etho are Red, sitting under the moonlight atop the Relation, and Joel really wants to kiss Etho. That's it, that's the fic.

A preview!

Night was Joel’s favorite time. True, night was dark and full of dangers. Day was bright and full of people – and thus different, less predictable dangers. Even before anyone went Red, Joel had preferred night. He didn’t care that skeletons and zombies roamed freely and he didn’t care about any of the other dangers. Night meant, unless they were being stupid, being home alone with Etho.

This night, like so many others, they were quietly sitting under the pale moonlight, in one of the lookout posts of the Relation. They were side by side, close enough to touch, but never doing so. Besides steadying each other on ladders and similar, they never touched, much to Joel’s continual displeasure.

This night was different from all the others because the ranchers were gone. They hadn’t had anything to do with their final deaths, that was Jimmy being out alone at night, but maybe if they hadn’t taken them down to Red… the kill had felt fine at the time, had been exhilarating and even fun, but now that they were gone, Joel felt a little weird about it. He felt a little weird, maybe a lot weird, about everything in their lives now. He knew the clock was ticking for them, for everyone, and nothing would ever be okay again.

He normally enjoyed the break from their loud and hectic days, sitting in silence like this with Etho. Breathing the cool night air, looking out over the tiny world they were trapped in, and being grateful that Etho was the one he was trapped with, the only one he could imagine being happy with. Tonight, though, he was feeling antsy. Tonight he couldn’t sit still – he needed to fight or talk or do something, anything besides sit with his incessant dark thoughts.

“Wow, it’s, uh, a nice night, yeah?” Wow Joel, you sound like a bloody idiot. “Lot less windy than last night.” Why don’t you proclaim something even more obvious, like how the sky is dark and the moon is big. Shut up, don’t make more of a bloody fool of yourself.

Etho chuckled lightly, turning his shadowed face towards the moon. A cloud passed, and Joel was unable to keep himself from openly staring at Etho’s profile in the silvery moonlight. He’d never seen half of his soulmate’s face, though he thought at least hourly about what was under the mask – especially his lips. Even given that, what Joel could see was still too beautiful to be fair. Everything was too unfair. It was horrendously unfair to be told to share his life with a man like this, to have what he wanted right there, all the time, and be unable to have it.

“Yeah, it’s a nice night.” Etho paused thoughtfully. “Don’t know how many more nights we’ll have here, seems like we’re probably coming up on the end.”

Etho was speaking so casually about their imminent deaths. Joel didn’t know how he could do it – he knew Etho had emotions just like anyone else, but he could keep things together, hide them, in a way Joel had never imagined pulling off, or even attempting.

Now he attempted anyway, trying for just a little of Etho’s calmness as he sought to be optimistic in the face of… everything.

“Well, maybe we’ll win, and we can decide to just stay together, to not die? Have as many nights up here as we like. It’s not like they’ll be anyone around to force us to kill ourselves, right?”

Joel had no idea what would actually happen to the last soulmates, but he’d been secretly fantasizing about this outcome. He felt silly about it, which is why he hadn’t mentioned it to Etho. He’d never planned to mention it, but tonight it felt right.

Etho chuckled, this time quietly and followed by a sigh. “That’s a nice idea. Maybe.”

Etho turned towards Joel, met his eyes, and that was the last straw, it was altogether too much for Joel to be expected to handle. They didn’t usually spend a lot of time, or any time, staring into each other’s eyes, and he couldn’t look away. Joel felt exposed. He thought he’d been doing so well, working so hard to hide what he felt, but now Etho’s talking about dying, they’re Red and could die tomorrow, and Joel can’t let himself die without trying.

[rionas-path]

Chapter 12

Such Solitude

CXVIII. A soothing wind of silence surrounded her as she wakened. Curled up in the corner of a hallway wrapped up in hides, She blew a breath into the wind, sending fire through flow’s guides Towards the firepit; igniting it with embers hastened. The vivid scenes of last night’s altercation were cleared skies In her mind’s eye, and so much work did her stay now comprise. Howbeit; firstly, she would cleanse the corporeal, sacred Remnants of holy blood on her bare body emblazoned.

CVIX. She stretched out her arms and gathered her bloodied attire Which was haphazardly thrown about. Soon after she washed Them with a rush of rainy wind, wholly with water bedashed While they levitated in midair. Lazily, she’d hire The flow for most of her work, since there was so much about; It’d be a shame if she were to toil hard and work without Relying on the magick’s abundance. She’d only require A lesser amount; this once succumb to her itching desire.

CXX. Donning her uniform and cloak of fur, which was adorned In dazzling tribal marks of her kin; she went undismayed Into the perilous room where the Tsar’s remains still laid Unmoving, empty. Thinking of fighting the tears, to have mourned The passing of her kin-in-kind, yet finding her solitude Too comforting. This ‘loneness granted her with such certitude. She moved him outside and neatly lowered his body malformed Onto the soil; enclosing him in the snowy and icy ground.

CXXI. Tradition dictated a quarter’s moon of wait before The ritual of last rites. Thus, the first stage was put to sleep. Now she would go onward with the cleansing of the tower’s keep. Rushing the lake’s water in a current from the very shore Towards and through the gate, splashing and cleaning off the remnants Of blood which were splattered on the floor, and walls, while wary droplets Bounced off in midair, preventing them from harming the scribe’s lore Or putting out the fire, as it blazed in great, dancing ardour.

CXXII. Alas, this place was still no safe haven or sanctuary; Therefore, she chose an elevated spot as her stronghold. However, the rotting wooden stairs would easily infold She reckoned, and thus, chose to make a decision voluptuary. Taming the flow yet again and forming steps of windy force, Which would act as skipping stones upon a river’s winding course. Leaping between the gusts of wind, she soared up to her new eyrie, Giving full trust into the magick’s muse without need for worry.

CXXIII. A darkened, unilluminated hallway awaited her, With sunlight pouring in flat streams through the leaky rundown walls. With a twirl of her digits, she brightened the abandoned halls, And found a pair of doors on each side of the interior. Without much thought, she chose one as her impromptu bedroom; To boot, she found a ladder stretching upwards in the gloom. In curiosity’s grip, she wandered up. No reason to defer Her exploration of the keep, her indulgence to pamper.

CXXIV. Mountains parted the valley in splendour before her eyes, As the lake below slumbered on, by the Guardians warded. Wind whirled about with the poignant essence of the flow uncharted, Which glanced along one’s senses, even seen make dancing strides In the rising light of the morning sun. The trees that dotted The slopes gently waltzed about, as their pearly gowns fluttered In the breeze. Every so often, she spotted a rustling guise Of lone deer which dug beneath the snow in search of a prize.

CXXV. In a moment of foolish wonder among this reserve Of flow abundant, she pressed her fingers upon her temple And gazed at the lake’s winding tale. Magick gathered with a gentle Sweep about her, instilling a vision into her nerve, Into her mind. Flow whirled in a pulsing, jerking motion On one beat and soothing on the next. She gazed at the formation, The glacier’s recede and advance in the same pulsing swerve Which enraptured the flow and beauty of the peaks did preserve.

CXXVI. Breathing in and out. The blooming of flowers, the falling of leaves, The nature’s cycle. Tears welled up in her astonished eyes As she was faced with the land’s radiance in all its dyes. Alas, the sad melody which all of Outerworld bereaves, Did mark the descent into a darker time. The ice and snow Came down one day and left nevermore, shrouding the world in woe. Still, she remained a maiden fair in her white-blazoned weaves, Though elegant, her solemn and sombre state worn on her sleeves.

[seabreeze2022]

2023 Bahama Cruise, Part 26, May 11 Rock Sound, Eleuthera.

Nancy is trimming sails on our way up the west side of Eleuthera. The Puritans named the island Eleuthera in the 1700’s. Which is a derivative of the Greek word, “Eleutheros”, meaning Free or Freedom.

Saturday, filet mignon night. Thanks Dush and Kelly!

To bring you you up to date. We had arrived outside the Rock Sound Harbor, Eleuthera on Saturday and decided to anchor off of a long beach. Instead of going the last couple of miles to Rock Sound Harbor. Because there was a huge rain storm over the harbor. We had to anchor a ways off shore to find good sand to anchor in. We had good protection from the waves and a cool night with the winds.

Anchoring further away from land usually assures mosquito free nights. Rigged the boat for quick closing with multiple rain showers expected. Since the threat was rain and not mosquitoes, we remove the screens and added a draw string to the hatch handle. No need to go on deck half asleep, to lower the open hatches. Just pull down on the draw string hanging down into the cabin to close the hatch.

But the first day it was too windy for Nancy to paddleboard. I spent 3 hours making water, reading etc.

Sunday Nancy paddled to shore and I met her using the dinghy. We both walked the beach looking for shells. We found several Murex shells. Then snorkeled back to the boat. Very few corals of fans. So we made the decision to go anchor off of the settlement.

As we started walking up Fish Road, we came across some cute art work. There are so many abandoned houses in the Bahamas. Some over a hundred years old. Some only a couple years old, just never finished. This art work really brightened up the city. Using the abandoned house elevated it from being a blight to a beautiful object.

Just up the block, we ran into Warren who is the artist. He is recently retired from being a nurse in Nassau for 42 years. He has a passion for cleaning up his hometown. “Grand Ma’s” was his grandmothers ice cream store, but she has passed on. Now it is his art store. Warren dropped the wet paint brush he was painting with, to talk to us. Giving us a tour of his works. Super nice guy full of energy.

The dark round hole at the bottom of the photo is “Ocean Hole”. Number one tourist destination at Rock Sound. It is confirmed to be over 110 ft. deep. But rumored to be around 700 feet. Warren told us to take bread for the Snapper.

Apparently the Mangrove Snapper and Grouper were stocked in there by local fishermen as well as Parrotfish. The parrot fish died when the trees around the hole were cut down and fell in the water.

Dye was put in the hole at some point and it showed up in the ocean nearby. Proving that it is connected underground to the ocean and a new source of water. We walked around town for an hour and saw most of it, so back to the boat for dinner.

The next morning we walked to “The Boiling Hole” and “Cathedral Cave”. Passing by the beautiful St Luke’s Anglican Church built 1863. For most of the settlements we have seen on Eleuthera the old churches are built at the waters edge and not on top of the hills overlooking the town. Usually they are very prominent and the first thing you see approaching from the sea.

The next biggest tourist attraction is a ten minute walk out of town to the cave and Boiling hole (photo above). The caves are not the ones on the far shore. They are another 5 minute walk through the bush.

Luckily the old wooden ladder was not too rotten. Only a couple of steps had broken. Interestingly many mosquitoes hang just outside the cave. I was thinking the bats were not doing their job. But several species here are actually fruit bats that migrate, and have not acquired a taste for mosquitoes.

We were lucky the bats had apparently migrated back and were flying around in the cave. This cave has many large openings in the ceiling, so plenty of light. Actually no need for carrying flashlights.

On the way back we realized that there was an old cemetery that was completely abandoned and overgrown next to the road and beach. Such a shame. Again the graves are pointed east. Above is the only one with a head stone. Most were just mounds of rock. This one was 1905?

From the caves we walked 30 minutes across the island to the supposedly “pink beach”. Pretty, but no sea shells. Nancy took a quick dip.

Half way back, we stop and talk with Rose. She is feeding stay dogs called “Pot lickers”. She shared some hog plums with us. Nancy had already gone out into the bush and picked half a dozen mangoes.

The fisherman had come in with their gill net full of grunts. Each settlement has a dock with a covered stand for the fisherman to use while cleaning fish. We made multiple trips to the gas station filling jerry jugs with either diesel or gas. Our tanks are full and are carrying 12 gallons of diesel and 12 gallons of gasoline on deck. This may be our last place to fuel up before we make it home.

Cruisers rate the settlements by there grocery stores. Rock Sound has the cheapest grocery store that is fairly large. This was much more industrious then the settlements on Cat Island. Again most of the younger folks have moved away for jobs. When they retire they move back. This leaves a void of workers. That is where we see the Haitians getting a foot hold.

Honestly I must say, if you have never been to Rock Sound you need to go. If you have ever been to Rock Sound, you don’t need to go again.

Now that procuring fuel is going to be tough we are making a point of sailing more and motoring less. So we sail ten miles to the next settlement of Tarpum Bay.

S/V Sea Breeze.

[the-k-alien]

Apr 29, 2023: 2 baby robins hatched

🐣Apollo 🐣Aion

Apr 30, 2023: the other 2 hatched

🐣Aether 🐣Ace

Yep I found another robin nest this year ☺️

Long story short, it’s very close to my deck so I can watch them being fed by momma and daddy, BUT the momma is SUPER agressive. She used to allow me put food near the nest, but since the last baby hatched, she attacks me whenever I’m close to the nest. The dad on the other hand only chirps and flies around me, but never attacks me the way the mom does. So yes, I can easily reach the bird nest without a ladder, but with the momma being there, I was not able to capture any closeup photos after this point 😔. I tried my best to befriend with the momma bird, but she’s too nervous. I still wonder what happened to her because I’ve been feeding her since Apr 27th and she never attacks me.

I’m also extremely bummed that I probably will miss the babies fledge again this time. I will be away next week and I’ll be back on their 13th day... last time they fledged on day 12 😢. However, it’s been a difficult start for these little ones. The weather was super cold and windy this entire week, average about 7-10 degrees, maybe 2-3 degrees at night. It rained everyday and today was the only sunny/warm day. So maybe these babies won’t fledge as early as last time if the weather’s cold.

Anyway we’ll see how things go and hopefully I’ll be able to get close to the nest tomorrow to take a better look at these little guys.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Wednesday 21 March 1838

7 35

12 10

much snow in the night – roofs and ground thickishly covered and wind and driving snow this morning and F35° at 8 35 – making extracts from Cochrane vol. 1 till breakfast at 9 5 – A- out of sorts that is out of temper but I now care little about it and quietly leave her to herself A- had SW- who brought my plan of the land for the colliery – in the farm stables a few minutes – came upstairs at 9 50 and skimming over Cochrane vol. 1 till 10 ½ then till near 12 at Garforths’ engine estimate calculating and writing rough draft of specification – then had John Booth who had taken Felix to the Northgate hotel and received for him £14 as agreed bringing back note from Mr. Thomas Crossland to say that he had paid that sum into the hands of my servant (John B-) and could not commence posting till after the 5th of April – longish while talking to John about farming – I now incline to sowing snow my bit of Long field at the top of the hill with clover lints and hayseeds instead of taking a crop of potatoes – much expense and trouble – repayment uncertain – then looking over Estimates etc. till after 1 – and then till 3 ¾ writing out for copy of my agreement for Garforth to sign and particulars etc. etc. – I think I can manage without Mr. Parker this time – at 3 ¾ went downstairs Robert Norton setting up the quondam upper buttery oak table in the upper kitchen – then a little while with A- coming right again and quite so this evening –then in the farmyard and stables – no workmen the day too wintry – George had brought one load of Engine ashes this afternoon then gave up – breaking stones for sand and doing up the dunghill – he and Sam Booth – John B- had taken the farm horses to the Smithy this afternoon (Stephen Schofields) – then to Listerwick pit for a minute then sometime talking to John Oates – he is still for his own plan – does not see how with Charles Howarths plan the puddling can be managed – saw Holt this morning and they both agreed as to the difficulty of puddling in Charles H-‘s plan – then to the pit again –called Joseph Mann up from the bottom – mentioned what had passed – JM. sure there was no difficulty in puddling Charles H-‘s way – much less than in JO-‘s way – I said Holt must come and speak to me – to come about 8 am tomorrow – all to be stopt till I had seen him – then to the Lodge Matty wanting to see me – I thought she could not do better than go and be a companion to Mrs. Foster of H-x (living where Rayner used to live her son keeping the shop) – would not have Matty turned out for George Thomas’ and his intended wife – Matty cannot leave till the end of next week – I said she must take her own time and had best get out the day before Georges’ wife that is to be comes – said I would buy of Matty the furniture she wished to sell – she said Thomas the York joiner in the beginning valued her oak dresser with the pewter and all as it stood at £3 – she could have a shilling a lb. for the pewter – told Matty to do exactly her own way – but we should not differ – told her to keep the girl Ibbetsons’ daughter as long as she Matty staid at the Lodge and I would settle with her at last – home about 6 40 dressed – dinner at 7 5 – A- read French – coffee – read the newspaper then made extracts from Cochrane vol. 1 and wrote the last 20 lines till now 11 20 at which hour F35° Rainy, snowy, windy, wild, wintry day – the very high wind last night blew down the long ladder [reared] against the granary tower and broke off about 3 yards of the top end –

[ayyynne]

The Maine Event

Acadia National Park in Maine has been on my mental “places to go” list for years. Only eight hours away, it’s close enough for a long weekend. Full of fun hikes, cool camping, and adjacent to cute ocean-front towns. Once I visited my first National Park this summer (Indiana Dunes), and made it an official goal to visit all sixty-three (or more, if and when new ones are added), Acadia moved higher up the bucket list. I convinced Dad to take a weekend out of sailing season and head up the coast, camp, and hike with me. 

We were able to book a campsite at Blackwoods Campground in the park for the first weekend in October. When I had looked earlier in the summer sites were booking pretty fast, especially for weekends. Acadia opens campsites for booking three months in advance, and I suggest you book your site pretty close to that three months. The only other things at Acadia that require booking are the Cadillac Summit Road vehicle permits - either for anytime or sunrise, some are released months in advance but a large portion are released two days ahead of time. Sunrise permits get snagged up pretty quickly, so if you’re looking to grab one you should be logged in and ready to go when they’re released.  

Acadia has three campgrounds in the park: Blackwoods, Seawall, and Duck Harbor. Blackwoods is closest to the most trailheads, visitor’s centers, and Bar Harbor. Seawall is a bit more secluded but is close to some trails. Duck Harbor is on an island only accessible by boat. If you’re looking for a place to sleep after a day exploring the park, Blackwoods is your best bet. If you’re looking for a relaxing getaway from civilization, the other ones are a-ok. 

Got to our campsite, set up our tents, boiled some water for some mac and cheese, and went for a walk. After sitting in a car for 8 hours, our legs needed it. We found a path from the campground that leads to the ocean - or a very rocky ledge next to the ocean. We opted not to walk too far on said rocks because it was very hard to tell when they ended and drop down to the ocean began. We found a stable stop to sit and stare up at the stars. Acadia is known for its stargazing and astrophotography opportunities and often hosts ranger-guided talks about the night sky. 

Dad, as usual, was up earlier than I was the next morning.. Early enough to head back to the ocean path and catch the end of the sunrise. As with basically any National Park trip, I start at the visitors center. Acadia does offer a free bus system to get around the islands, but the earliest pick-up at the campground was later than we wanted our day to start so we opted to drive. 

The day’s included a spontaneous hike up the Dorr Trail to Dorr Mountain and over to Cadillac Mountain. A simple “hey I bet this Dorr Trail goes up to Dorr Mountain” turned into a rocky, scramble of a hike over the two highest peaks in the park. 

We also found time for the Beehive trail, probably the most famous hike in Acadia. The trail is full of iron rung ladders and some rock scrambling, definitely not something to do it you’re terrified of height. 

The next day we made sure to be up earlier enough to hike the Precipice Trail before we had to hit the road for the drive home. Precipice is similar to the Beehive with the style of rungs and ladders, only a bit more of them and more rock scrambling. It was very windy and chilly on the summit, but not terrible for October in Maine. 

We said goodbye to Acadia and stopped in Bar Harbor for some hot coffee, some more food, and a quick wander through some shops before leaving the area. The drive home included a stop for dinner at a local place in New Hampshire so I could cross that off my list of states (#33!). 

Acadia Hikes

There are LOTS of trails in Acadia and lots of them overlap and connect, making it easy to create your own loop, or to turn back earlier if needed, as long as you know how to read and map and know where you are. 

Dorr to Cadillac to Ladder Trail: 

5.5 miles, 1700 feet of elevation gain 

The Beehive 

1.2 Miles, 431 feet of elevation gain 

The Precipice 

2.2 Miles, 924 feet of elevation gain 

[gwydionmisha]

Personal:  Gothmas Season is Back, Baby!

Sunday, we went shopping.  By we I mean Head Millennial, Techie Millennial , Techie's New Roommate, and me.  It was insanely hot and muggy, which we had no way of guessing when planning the Ex-pod-ition the night before when it was a perfectly reasonable temperature for mid-September in this micro-climate.  Yes, I know it's October.  *shakes fist at the Koch brothers and every other rich person who bought climate denial during my life time to boost their profit margins*

But it had been early September sane temperatures for a week.  We'd already ripped out the living room air-conditioning the previous weekend so we could start Gothmas Phase I.  (All I've managed is most of the ornaments on one tree.)  We were not expecting Surprise late July in Alabama.  This means not only was the trip to the Good Grocery (Excellent Prices, Solid selection, Employee run) sticky hot, exhausting, and full of human obstacles, but the apartment common area was oven hot when we got home.  It is supposed to be cool, windy, and sporadically rainy.  Fucking Climate change.

Now it is Gothmas Phase II, of which I've managed the easy stuff not involving string lights and ladders, but it's enough to start lighting of an evening outside.  head Millennial helped me get the gear out of the storage closet, then focused on hand making us lasagna to eat while watching our beloved resident Alien  and sipping nice cold floats.

I have already spent two thirds of my food budget for the month and I have my birthday party to get food for mid October.  Sigh.  I did score eight dollars of fruit from the Market Garden before they closed for the season in the morning of their very last day right after open.  I really miss the other fruit and veg stand as they generally stayed open through Halloween, but I really don't blame two people in their '70's for deciding that organizing produce from a bunch of small farms was too damned much.  

For the record, the market garden is produce from one farm, super fresh, as it's harvested right there and placed on display throughout the day, but the selection is smaller than the one that was like a farmer's Market only every day and with one check out.  Seriously, the Market garden is magical and really close to where I live now and they have a good selection given the size of their growing space.  I just wish there were two options instead of one.  It's not like there is any shortage of fresh fruit and produce in this place as we are a part off the country that supplies other areas with the same, so we are spoiled by good, reasonably cheap, fresh food.  Also, the major artery for the west coast means more southerly fruit makes it up here quickly at reasonable prices.  

I never forget we are incredibly lucky to be living were food is.  I grew up in an area where the only biking distance food stores were a tiny corner store and a WaWa (convenience store).  A real grocery store was an hour round trip not counting the actual shopping, and my Gran was living in a Germantown food desert because she wasn't willing to leave the neighborhood where she was born in 1889 and she had a bad arm, so my Mother and Grandmother took it in turn to take her grocery shopping once a week.  I still measure food availabity in things like travel time and spoons and how much a person on foot could reasonably carry for how many miles, because those were the calculation of more than half my life and they still are for my Millennials.

Still, the tiny end of season selection and the last day sign made me sad.

Anyway, we have food.  I've two meals worth of eggplant lasagna in my fridge and one in my stomach, and it's starting to look a bit Gothmasy around the Cat Asylum.

For those not used to the lingo, the Gothmas season starts September 1 and runs to Jan. 7.  Phase one is interior Gothmas decorations like trees and Halloween Town.  Phase 2 is exterior Halloween decorations, Phase 3: we leave everything up inside and pull the Halloween specific stuff from outside while leaving lights, gourds, etc..  Phase 4: yet more interior decorations and more lights everywhere.  It is a disability friendly way to do things and is cheerful for the dark of the year.  I got in the habit for my late longtime partner Skye as even though he was a happy atheist, the social bits of the winter holidays really mattered to him and he missed his family.  It is all very, very Goth to look at since he only specifically theistic things were gifts from assorted relatives and these are black and purple Halloween trees decorated with things like science fiction and Halloween ornaments and Halloween Town stays up throughout.  Phase 5: everything sorted and back in boxes, stowed away for next September.

We call it the Cat Asylum, because back just before the turn of the century, Skye and I took in two rescue cats with serious psychological and resulting behavioral problems.  It is asylum both in the original sense of a safe place, a refuge; and in the sense that it could get pretty wild for the first few years.  For the record, they both lived to their late teens despite health issues related to their abuse and abandonment.  Mache recovered and was the best Queen I ever met and a wonderful, wonderful cat by every measure after the extremely rough first 2-3 years.  hector suffered from nightmares, anxiety, panic attacks his whole life, but he got so much better and was loved his whole life after that first terrible year.  his bad spells went from every day to only once in a while, and he had a really, really good life.  It is still the cat asylum because the the current cats also have issues and this is a safe and supportive environment for them.

[peonyblossom]

For the prompt thing 12 for Harry x Noah

thank you nonny i loved this even tho it turned out really angsty

rooftop on a windy night

Book: It Lives In The Woods Pairing: Harry x Noah Word Count: 532

“How did you find this?” Harry asked as he followed Noah up the ladder in the back of the library. They had spent the whole afternoon in the library seeing if they could find any information on Redfield. All their other friends had other obligations or early curfews, so it had just been Harry and Noah. The library was going to close in an hour and their brains were fried, so Noah had suggested a small field trip. He’d led Harry to the back of the building, sneaking them into a room marked “employee only.” Not that it was difficult, the door wasn’t even locked.

As Harry emerged on the roof of the building, Noah held out his hand to help him up. Harry smiled as he took it.

“I worked here the last two summers,” Noah finally answered.

“Really?” Harry asked, feeling the cool autumn breeze blow through his hair, a few pieces sticking to his face. As he ran a hand through his hair, he continued, “I always got more of a diner-worker vibe from you than a librarian.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t really care much what job I had as long as it got me out of the house.” Noah sat down on the roof, looking out into the woods behind the library. “And making money was nice.” 

Harry sat down next to him, the wind once again blowing his hair into his face. As soon as he managed to get it all out of his face, the wind just blew again.

“Turn around,” Noah said.

“What?”

“Just turn around.”

Harry turned until his back was facing Noah, when Noah put his hands on Harry’s shoulders to stop him. Noah gently combed one of his hands through Harry’s hair. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah. Um, what are you doing though?”

“I’m getting your hair out of your face.” Noah divided Harry’s hair into the sections he needed to make a french braid.

“Oh. You know how to braid hair?”

“I used to braid Jane’s hair when we were little. Dad didn’t know how, Mom wasn’t really around enough too, and Jane’s arms got tired when she did it herself.” 

“Are you doing a french braid?” Harry asked as he felt Noah’s hands dance through his hair. “Isn’t that kind of complicated?”

“A little, I guess. Not really once you get the hang of it though. Jane really liked french braids. But she always insisted on having a fishtail braid when we went swimming. Said it made her feel like a mermaid. I was getting really good at those when she…” Noah trailed off as he finished braiding Harry’s hair and tied it off with the ponytail he kept on his wrist. “Anyway, it’s not great ’cause I’m a little out of practice, but it should keep your hair out of your face.” Noah blushed as he looked away from Harry, who had turned back around to face him. 

“Thanks, Noah.” Harry looked down and saw Noah’s hand resting in between them on the roof. He slowly moved his own hand to cover Noah’s. But instead of acknowledging it, they both just looked out into the dark woods ahead of them.

[artsycloudysleepy]

Fabrication: Places: Asterism Info

Asterisms (Constellations) = universes. Stars inside the asterisms = planets. String ladders = imaginary lines between stars.

7* universes (Aeolian, Dorian, Ionian, Locrian, Lydian, Mixolydian, Phrygian) and 1* pocket dimension (MINDSPACE/Undefined Mode).

*There are more universes and pocket dimensions than this - these are just the main ones I focus on here. Plus there aren't infinite music modes so uh. No names for you.

..............................................................................................................................

Stars/Asterisms:

..............................................................................................................................

Seasons:

Months don't exist. 365-day years - no leap years.

Pellucid = cold, dry and wet, clear, trees have leaves. 58 days. Haze = hot, dry, sunny, cloudy, leaves. 52 days. Fever = hot, wet, sunny, clear, leaves. 70 days. Deluge = mild, wet, windy, stormy, cloudy, leaf-fall. 36 days. Rime = cold, dry, snowy, foggy, no leaves. 51 days. Murk = mild, wet, frosty, foggy, no leaves. 57 days. Clement = mild, dry and wet, cloudy, gaining leaves. 41 days.

Referred to as '___ season'.

Dates are written as eg. '[date].[first letter of month].[year]'. eg: 32.F.2000

..............................................................................................................................

Atmosphere + Space:

Atmosphere: - Pollution does exist, but it's nowhere near as bad as the real world's. There are strict regulations on pollution outputs and deforestation, so global warming isn't a thing. Moderate climate change may occur, but the vast majority is natural. - The atmosphere and bottom of the ocean loop back around (see below section). Birds can end up in the ocean and fish in the sky, usually passing too slowly through the Bubble and ending up as particles. The birds add to the nutrient cycle of the ocean, and the fish the ground's. Even if they make it through quickly,

The Bubble: - The atmosphere and bottom of the ocean loop back around. Once you reach a certain height (above or below sea), you pass through a liminal space (AKA 'the Bubble') between the bottom of the ocean and the top of the sky. If you don't make it through quickly enough, the high pressure mixed with low pressure on your body at both extremes kill and atomise you in seven seconds.

Space: - To get into space, you have to pass into the Bubble and find some way to remain inside it for a full minute without dying or fully passing through it, and then you'll be floating in space. Magic and modern technological advances has made this possible for some. FRAGMENTS can do this without any help, as long as they concentrate and have enough hope and determination. Without, they either stay floating there or get atomised (and respawn). - The Bubble fluctuates from being boiling hot to freezing cold, and feels like bubbles popping in the skin, but if endured for long enough (over twenty seconds), it feels numb and relaxing due to the body's senses shutting down. Because of this, it's hard to move inside it or adjust once outside, so some die from shock (though there are now prevention measures for this). - Space itself has a watercolour effect. Depending on the closest Asterism, it shifts colours.

..............................................................................................................................

Weather:

Rain: - Made of light or darkness (affects lighting of the surroundings), but still is wet and can be whatever temperature. - Light rain: showers, drizzles, normal stuff. - Dark rain: storms, cyclones, extreme weather. - The lighter it is, the more overstimulating it is. Parasols favoured in light rain, umbrellas in dark rain. - Emits light/darkness, so either can be dangerous if too extreme.

Clouds: -

..............................................................................................................................

Plants:

..............................................................................................................................

Animals:

- Can turn into origami if they want to. They must as a survival skill if severely injured, the IMAGINATION is at an extreme low or high, SELF's mental state is bad, or if they're still for a few moments (including when their body is moving without much input, eg. hurled through the air, birds gliding). - Can turn into origami, split into several tinier origami versions of the animal, and reform as the original after. Some animals reproduce this way, but all are genetically identical and can't form into something animated. They're origami for life until refused. - Can't make animal noises or any movements if origami. - As origami, they feel, look, taste, and sound just like paper. Can be impossible to tell apart from real origami. - Animals as origami are waterproof unless incredibly weak/dying. - Origami may be smaller or bigger than the original animal. Hand-size at biggest, finger-size at smallest. - When they die, animals turn into real origami.

*None of this applies to anthros, only 100% animals with no human characteristics of any kind. ^^

[sternsolar]

The Benefits of Solar Panel Cleaning

Solar panels have become increasingly popular in recent years as a way to generate clean, renewable energy. However, to ensure that your solar panels are operating at their full potential, it is important to keep them clean. Solar panel cleaning can help to increase energy output, extend the lifespan of your panels, and improve their appearance.

Increased Energy Output

One of the most significant benefits of solar panel cleaning is that it can help to increase the energy output of your panels. Dust, dirt, and debris can accumulate on solar panels over time, reducing the amount of sunlight that can be converted into electricity. This can lead to a significant reduction in energy production. Studies have shown that dirty solar panels can lose up to 25% of their efficiency.

Regular cleaning can help to restore the efficiency of your solar panels and ensure that they are generating the maximum amount of power. This can translate into significant savings on your electricity bills.

Extended Lifespan

In addition to increasing energy output, solar panel cleaning can also help to extend the lifespan of your panels. By removing dirt and debris from the panels, you can prevent premature wear and tear. This can help to extend the life of your investment and save you money in the long run.

Improved Appearance

Solar panel cleaning can also improve the appearance of your panels. Clean solar panels look more attractive and can add to the curb appeal of your home. This is especially important if your panels are visible from the street.

Protection of Warranty

Some solar panel warranties require that the panels be cleaned regularly. By cleaning your panels, you can help to protect your warranty and avoid voiding it.

Reduced Carbon Footprint

By using solar panels to generate electricity, you are already helping to reduce your reliance on fossil fuels. Cleaning your solar panels can help you to further reduce your carbon footprint.

How Often Should You Clean Your Solar Panels?

The frequency of solar panel cleaning depends on a number of factors, including the location of the panels, the amount of dust and dirt in the area, and the type of panels.

In general, it is recommended that solar panels be cleaned at least once a year. However, if your panels are located in a particularly dusty or dirty area, you may need to clean them more often.

You can also check the efficiency of your solar panels to see if they are in need of cleaning. If you notice a decrease in energy production, this could be a sign that your panels are dirty.

How to Clean Your Solar Panels

If you are comfortable cleaning your solar panels yourself, here are a few tips:

Gather the necessary supplies. You will need a soft brush, a hose, and a bucket of water. You can also use a specialized solar panel cleaning solution.

Turn off the power to your solar panels. This can be done by turning off the inverter.

Rinse the panels with water to remove loose dirt and debris.

Use the soft brush to scrub the panels. Be careful not to scrub too hard, as this can damage the panels.

Rinse the panels again with water.

Dry the panels with a soft cloth.

Turn the power back on to your solar panels.

It is important to be safe when cleaning your solar panels. Always use a ladder with a non-slip surface. Wear gloves and eye protection. Avoid working in rainy or windy conditions.

Hiring a Professional Solar Panel Cleaning Service

If you are not comfortable cleaning your solar panels yourself, you can hire a professional to do it for you. Professional solar panel cleaners have the experience and equipment necessary to clean your panels safely and effectively.

The cost of solar panel cleaning will vary depending on the size of your solar panel system and the location of your home. In general, you can expect to pay between $5 and $10 per panel. However, the cost may be higher if your panels are located in a difficult-to-reach area or if they are heavily soiled.

Conclusion

Solar panel cleaning is an important part of maintaining your solar panel system. By keeping your panels clean, you can ensure that they are operating at their full potential and generating the maximum amount of power. This can help you to save money on your electricity bills and reduce your carbon footprint.

I hope this blog post has been helpful. If you have any questions about solar panel cleaning, please feel free to leave a comment below.

please don’t hesitate to contact us.

[northstarroofing]

Roof Safety 101: Essential Tips for Safe Roofing Practices

Roof Safety 101 is essential for anyone involved in roofing activities. Whether you're a professional roofer or a homeowner attempting DIY repairs, understanding the fundamentals of roof safety is paramount. Always start by wearing appropriate safety gear, including a hard hat, non-slip shoes, and a harness if working at heights. Before climbing onto the roof, inspect it for any damage or weak spots. Use secure ladders and ensure they are placed on stable ground. Avoid working on a wet or windy day, as these conditions can make the roof surface slippery and increase the risk of accidents. When on the roof, move slowly and deliberately, keeping your center of gravity low. It's crucial to be aware of your surroundings and any potential hazards, such as skylights or power lines. Lastly, if a project seems too complex or dangerous, it's always best to hire a professional roofing contractor to ensure the job is done safely and correctly.

For more information, visit our website: https://bit.ly/3sRol2j.

[mi4012minadigajaweera]

Finalized and Edited Narrative with Camera Angles

The camera moves slowly, showing a glimpse of a perfect blue sky, quite serene and calm. As the camera pans, capturing the expanse of the calm horizon with still clouds, the scene seems almost too real, too tranquil to be true. Sounds of nature could be heard in the distance, setting an ambient and peaceful mood.

Yet, as the camera gets closer, we see a figure of a girl, her back turned to us. She turns around and looks up a bit, covering her eyes for a moment from the sun rays, tinted with a slight yellow hue, it radiates a slight magical glow and a feeling of warmth and peace but at the same time seems unusually bright.

These bright sun rays illuminate a side of the empty wall, further making it seem like she's outdoors with the slight shadow casting beneath her as she moves. But soon, the sun rays fades away.

The camera moves to a side shot and the girl starts to paint. The camera moves again to a medium shot from behind as she paints nimble and fluid brushstrokes in a shade of blue, giving a bit of life to the empty wall.

Moving closer, to an over the shoulder shot, she paints calmly and the camera slowly shifts to a wide shot showing her standing on a step ladder and as if someone is recording her every movement from afar as well.

The camera shifts to a side shot, showing her holding a white paint palette. A closeup pov shot reveals that it's splattered with various tones of blue paint and a noticeable gold branding label called "Artist's Pal"

An extreme close up shot of the paintbrush gliding across the wall, shows the intricate brush strokes adding more artistic detail to this empty wall, the camera carefully taking in all the slow movements in a way that's very calming.

The camera shifts again, as she paints in a peaceful motion. She tries to fix her hair away from her face and amidst this calm moment, a gasp escapes her lips. The tranquil moment shatters as the paintbrush slips from her hand, and we hear a soft splash - as if the brush fell into water.

The sound of the splash resonates for a second, rippling through the serene atmosphere. The screen goes black and suddenly, a scene of a destructive storm fills the screen for about two seconds like a flashback, the weather dark and windy with sounds of rain echoing all over as the strong waves of the ocean splashes around in contrast to the calm scene before. A bolt of lightning echoes loudly in the distance and the camera cuts.

Abruptly, the dream like state ends and the scene changes. The terrifying sounds of the storm and lightning echoes in Truman's mind for a second and he rubs his eyes. Letting out a sigh, he stares at his reflection in the mirror and starts to talk to himself.