#it's only my 3rd full rest day since i started working out regularly again

[havroth-traveler]

J3, the treasure

My third year of Hogwarts was spent primarily working hard, and by hard I mean to exhaustion every day. Classes, homework, the battle games, and working privately to get stronger. I could cast Sectrumsemptra a couple of times in a row now before feeling exhausted. Yes professor Flitwick looked at me weird when I asked for rope to practice controlling Diffindo, but I was a good student, not as good as Hermione but, that was hardly a fair comparison since she became a unicorn princess. The biggest project I had was following those glyphs around the paintings.  One of the first things we learned in ancient runes was ordinal numbers. It didn’t take long for me to notice that the runes I was seeing on the paintings were numbers, paintings with 3rd, 7th, 13th, 64th, 9th kept popping up. It took until the end of the year when skipped class just to look at as many paintings as I could  did I find the one noted as first. When I asked the painting about it, They chuckled and told me a word in a language I had never heard before, but they were willing to sound it out of me, and I took a quick note.  That summer I was not able to go back to the orphanage. An unusually large wave had washed the whole building right off the cliffs. Not that I minded. I spend most of that summer in Hogwarts. I wrote Harry and Andel regularly about what I was doing from finding a secret passage from the dungeons to Hagrid's hut, to next ideas for wargames. It was a great summer.    After a summer of getting up to no good, I had gathered most of the 137 word. It was directions to find a secret of Hogwarts. Deep in the dungeons, even beyond the Slytherin common room, was a door that only opened during a new moon, and only if you used a yellow candle to boil some blood during the full moon.  It was something else, trying to gather all the supplies with out the deputy head mistress asking too many questions. I was as surprised as the rest when the tri wizard tournament started during my 4th year. Still even with extra people running around, I was able to show harry the staircase down into the deep dungeons of Hogwarts. We gathered our friends and started exploring. It took most of the year, and we were much more intentional about not letting teachers know. We all remembered what happened when other people started using the room of requirement, and limited our war games.  There were dark rooms, filled with traps, and warded doors. It was easily the hardest thing I could imagine, but it was also the most exciting thing to happen since the plot during first year.  Everything changed when the final trial of the tri wizard cup ended with Cedric Diggory's body appearing at the front of the maze, covered in blood, and  quite dead. Voldemort was back, again. I don’t think Harry and Hermione knew that I knew but I saw the look on their faces. They stopped being able to help me with the gauntlet. Secret meetings, and such. Neither of them went home that summer. 

[thechroniclesofahotgirl]

Someone Get Freddy Out of the Microwave

Chronicles of a Hot Girl week 3

Mercury remained in the microwave for another couple of weeks.

With a full moon, a lunar eclipse and cinco de mayo, this Hot Girly opted for a weekend of rest. 

“As she should.”

By week three of microwaving Mercury (band name idea) I was depleted, defeated, and regularly depressed. 

The show was a heated mess and I was starting to spin out. 

Being a Hot Girl is truly a state of mind. It is not about how many dates you go on. It's not even conventional attractiveness. It is one hundred percent about being That Bitch. 

Taking life by stride, the ability to self sooth, identify and communicate your needs. A Hot Girly utilizes healthy coping mechanisms and works through their emotions. These are the hall marks of a Hot Girl. 

Sometimes though, in life we are the ex that comes back during a retrograde. 

I should be embrassed how quickly I answered after B messaged me. I had spent the last 3 days debating whether or not to message him. 

How you ask?

Typing up messages in snapchat and then copy and pasting them into the notes app on my phone. 

After the third day he had enough of being notified that I was typing only to not see the message. 

“I know you didn’t care that’s why I don’t ever actually send these messages.”

Maybe it is the anxiety. Maybe it is the delusion? Perhaps it is the unintentional gaslighting. If we are being honest, on both of our parts.  

Either way. He asked what was up. I called him, he called me, I messaged him, he messaged me. Then it was 3 am and I was wrapped up in his arms on the couch singing with him like our own depressing little karaoke night. It was something we were good at. 

We are on borrowed time for sure. I want there to be a way to fix that.

It didn't hit until I was in his bathroom at 5 am and noticed all the extra and new products lined up neatly on the rack in the shower and the pile of scrunchies on the bathroom sink. 

“When do you think you’ll make it official?” I asked him while he laid out naked and drained of life. 

“Probably soon.”

I calmly got up, grabbed my shorts, and made my way down the hall. 

It's a fucking miracle I can make my way around in the dark without breaking anything. 

As I get in the car I cry. The moment I had been holding my breath for since we picked up again in January is close. I thought I would be used to it 9th time around. 

B messaged me the next morning. I guess waking up without me there was jarring.

Let us just chalk this up to what not one but 2 psychologists deem as a form of self harm. If I say that out loud enough times it could possibly, maybe, hopefully sink in. 

So, how do we learn to take life by stride? 

 I always think back to when I first started learning how to compete in pageants. You really think you know how to walk until you’re about to walk across a stage in 4-6in heels for the purposes of being judged. Like actually judged for your grace in walking across a stage. 

My mother had used to get on to me for dragging my feet, so I was under the impression I had nailed that already. Or at least enough to keep her claws out of my arm. 

Alas, though simialry to an ugly ducking blossoms into a swan as did I. 

I forget the power a great walk can have. The affect grace and poster can have on how an entire room sees you. 

After a long week, I was having one of my trademark anxiety attacks. Everything fit wrong. I felt like the air wasn't working like it should. I categorize anxeity attacks a little differently from my panic attacks as the effects are all internal and somewhat scaled down. 

One of my friends was sitting on my bed as I told the 3rd person today what had transpired the night before and carefully (like a feral raccoon digging for a lil snaky snack) chose the perfect bright lacey corset top to juxtapose my light wash shredded shorts. 

The reaction varies from person to person. One says the relationship sounds like self harm. My boss thinks I should just be honest about my feelings. The last is honestly just living for the plot. 

We get to the *gasp* country bar, and from the moment I open the swinging door I can feel every head snap in my direction. Maybe that is because I did open the door a little aggressively and pop the trash can on the other side of it by accdient. The little swinging door looked heavier than it was. 

I cut through that place like butter. As I glide up to the bar, I can still feel eyes on me. 

The only two people I am there with are the only two I know. A perfect environment to dance and have a carefree time. Homeostasis achieved.  

For whatever reason though, it never seems the stars alligin in such a way that for me to spend too much time there. 

Not long after arriving to the country bar, I am back in my enclosure. The lavender and clary sage candle helped my little sunset light illuminate my room.

There is a lot I would love to be able to say to B. 

I spent a long weekend just trying to survive the annual hallmark reminder of my childhood trauma. I did my best to sEt MySeLf Up FoR sUcCeSs. I went to work, didn’t drink, even tried to water and feed myself. 

“I woke up for the first time in 6 months in a good mood for once.” Played on an ADHD loop for the better part of my Sunday morning. I went for a mile and a half walk which was short for me. I wanted to leave enough time to get ready for work, get my coffee and so on. I also had an 8 hour shift ahead of me. 

Getting to work with enough time to smoke it out with my coworker. She tries to be nice, but I know she doesn’t like me much. The shift is peaceful. Slow in my line of work isn’t the best financially speaking, but it is a lot easier to not have a mental breakdown if your job isn't activly giving you a reason to drink. 

The bartending industry by no means is making anyone do anything they don’t want to do. Now if you haven’t had the privilege of working behind the pine, it is likely you also don’t know the pleasure of taking a warm shot of lemon vodka after someone brings up your suicide attempt from 2020. (I know. Who didn’t have one that year?) 

So for me to not partake in the roaring twenties that is working on 7th ave because my mental state isn’t great is really monumental for me. I might have slipped when Andor came in for a hug, but I didn’t sleep with him, so that doesn’t count. 

Sunday night was also the night I let everyone involved in the show know that my child (my burlesque show) would be temporarily suspended. I felt like I had fired people which is so odd because literally nothing got done outside of me. 

Still it felt shitty. I wasn’t even mad. Just disappointed. 

The show must go on. On it will go. The show will live in August complete with a new band, new location, and new ideas to make the approprate show to kick off a production company. 

Someone took Freddy Mercury out of the microwave on the 15th which was a Monday. 

I woke up with $50 in my bank account, no show, no fun traumatizing situation-ship, and generally no idea how I was going to make the next few months work. If there is anything you should know about me, is I am a figure it out along the way kinda girly. 

No confidence? Fake it and if all fails just be kind. No money? Money jars and grab a shift or a gig. No love? Ha. Boys (girls) and Buses, baby. 

Until next time. 

[teathattast]

Full rest day ✅

Try new fall drinks from Starbies ✅

Buy new jeans for work ✅

Grab a few grocery items I forgot ✅

Interact with my favorite artist ✅

Flex my creative skills ✅

Be graceful with myself as I acclimate to my new healthy routine ✅

Realize I don't have to be so hard on myself all the time ✅

Set realistic goals and expectations ✅

Protect my energy ✅

[scp-10000]

Massive Au

Yes, here I am again using this as my daily writing, and flexing my creative muscles on a fandom au instead of actually writing my own danmed book.  Oh well.

This is my Hermitcract, Empires, Truly Bedrock, Evo, 3rd/Last Life, Afterlife au that formed after I watched Gem’s Afterlife Sereis; Everyone has 1 life and 1 origin.  

-Since I ended on Martyn last post, let’s start with Netty.  She’s a bush baby standing about 2 and a half feet tall(or shorter than the 1 full block/meter I give to woodland creatures like the trash pandas) who nursed Martyn back to health in her treetop home when he first arived.  She also fought off Ly when Zlonathan sent her to go see what’s up with the new stranger who fell from the sky.  Netty made Ly to back off with her longsword skills.  

-Big B, Ren, and Shubble are dogs.  Not wolves, domestic dogs.  Or more like half feral dogs.  They don’t really need to live by villager civilizations, but it is easier.  It’s also easier to build a house over the existing village and put a window and a couch by the front door just for all 3 of them to bark at visitors.  There was also that one time Zloy corrupted them and made them netherhounds, dogs who can breath fire and cast horrable spells on prey.  Luckally Martyn kicked Zloy’s ass for that one and lifted uncorrupted them.

-Joey’s a reaper.  He was a regular villager before he died, but when he did a reaper gave Joey his job and screwed off to an afterlife not even Joey knows about.  Joey guides dead things to the afterlife they go to, and he does a decent job at it.  One thing he doesn’t enjoy about the job is seeing the ocasional undead thing crop up.

-There are two branches of Mentalist, those with powers like telekenesis, hypnosis, and mind reading, and those with the ability to physically absorb knowledge and beam it directly into peoples’ brains.  Hypno is the former, and Joe is the latter.  Hypno has no problem using his telekenesis and hypnosis to mess with people(ask xB, Keralis, or Jevin), but he’ll usually stay out of people’s minds.  The only exceptions he made were with Joe, who he later tried to force to sleep cause Joe hasn’t slept in days, and both the dragon gods, which caused a mental overload that Joe had to drain out.  Remember when I said Hypno tried to get Joe to sleep?  That didn’t work because on the simple factor Hypno’s branch of Mentalist can only use their mind reading powers on Joe’s branch.  Hypno’s self care telekenesis and hypnosis did not work on Joe.  However, they did work on Joey.  You see, Joe knows a way to avoid death that doesn’t involve becoming undead, and Joey’d kill to keep that secret.  Joe’s not decide what he wants to do with it, but one day he died.  Joey was this close to reaping him when Hypno came in and begged hypnotised Joey into not taking Joe.  And it worked.  Joey walked away, and when he was far enough Joe came back to life, and he was not able to be harvested that day.

-Since Hypno’s hypnosis is based both on looking him in the eyes and hearing his comands, it might not work so well on Jimmy.  Jimmy is a Warden who paints eyes on where eyes should be in an attempt to not scare people.  When Warden Jimmy was young, he lived in a cave closer to the surface.  One day while was playing he found the surface.  The young Warden tottled around experiencing the new sounds when he found an group of people who got scared of him and chased him deep into a cave...with an ancient city...where like 5 Wardens lived.  Needless to say the mob was slaughtered, and their life force was used to feed young Jimmy before he burrowed with the rest of his kind.  Wardens are incredible parents who regularly leave the cave to hunt for their children, pretty much always play with them, and will fight to the death for their young, and we’re talking the death of a creature that’s really hard to kill.  When Jimmy left his parents to find a habitat of his own, he met the Scott and friends and did not get a fraction of the respect his parents showered on him.

This next section is for nether creaturs who are now living on the overworld due to a massive ongoing disaster.  I want yall to guess what that disaster could be before I tell you about it.

-Silent was a piglin wandering the nether gathering gold.  Not once in his life would he have ever considered walking through a nether portal into the strange cold world.  However, the disaster showed up and he had to choose between death and the portal.  He went through the portal, and supprise it also had death.  He died and became a zombie piglin wandering around Zloy’s redstone basement.  Zloy just let him live there, and in about a week he understood redstone and made his first noise machine just to annoy Zloy.  Zloy wasn’t sure weather to be proud or annoyed.

-Joel and Tango are Blazeborn who both hate rain and half wisdom as a dump stat.  They also spooked each other one dark night in the woods and caused a massive forest fire, but that’s another story.  I would also be lying if I say “aside from that they’d be upstanding citizens”.  Tango will absolutely prank the hels out of people for messing with him, and Joel will mess with people just cause.  Despite the water, the overworld is more welcoming than the nether with the disaster still going on.  Tango discovered redstone and was left to his own devices, and Joel married Lizzy and swore he would help her take her thrown as the true trash panda ruler.

-Impy is a strange creature.  He’s an Impmallow, a little nether imp shaped like a squishmallow, and no one understans how he flutters around on his little wings.  He even looks adorable when he’s mad, with his little pout, stamping his little feet and waggling his little scorpion tail.  The only scary thing about him are the noises he makes.  Impy can mimic any noise he ever hears and makes custom noises a lot.  It’s almost like the little guy has a Goxlr in his throat.  Honestly, even without the disaster going on, he’d have a hard time living in the general nether cause of how many other things that would attack him for being small and cute, so living in the overworld is great for him.  It’s also funny watching them freak out whenever he sneaks up on them and makes weird noises.

Did you guess the nether disaster yet?  Well if you haven’t I’m gonna tell you.

-The nether disaster’s name is Xisumavoid.  X is a normal dude in the overworld, but his origin is based off The Doom Slayer.  He loves tea, curry, music, and having conversations, and he would not attack unprovoked in the overworld.  In the nether if you’re a nether mob or your origin is one, it’s on sight.  He will try and kill you.  He’s even been seen going after striders and impmallows, so being passive is not going to help.  He also regains health, armor durability, weapon durablity, and/or ammo after each kill, so there’s that.  

[graniairish]

Walking on Eggshells – Part 3

so here is the 3rd part. maybe some more will follow ...

Part one Part two

Daryl had woken up before dawn. He had always been an early riser and, like you, always one of the first to greet the new day.

You yourself were only half asleep. Immediately you noticed when he began to move as he slowly left the dream world.

With his right arm still around you, he pulled you tight. At some point during the night you had turned your back to him and now he was spooning you from behind.

In his arms you always felt so safe and secure, as if nothing could happen to you in these moments.

"Mornin'", you heard his deep voice, which was still very rough from sleep.

"Good Morning."

Daryl snuggled up close to you and you had to laugh lightly, because his stubble tickled your neck when he kissed you there - still sleepy.

Only you knew this side of him. For everyone out there he was the fearless redneck who hardly spoke more than two sentences to anyone; the loner who should not be messed with.

Only you knew the gentle and loving man who kept looking for your physical closeness; the passionate lover who never seemed to get enough of you.

"Have any plans for today?"

"I'll take care of the chicken coop with Jake and Josh."

"Jake and Josh," Daryl asked confused.

He raised his head and looked at you questioningly.

"Yes. The two have experience in construction. I already spoke to them yesterday."

"Who are Jake and Josh?"

“They're from Woodbury. You know them."

"Don't know who ya're talkin’ about," Daryl said, still trying to remember them.

“Jake and Josh, the two brothers. Big, black hair, tattoos on the upper arms …"

"The two who look like bouncers?"

“Yes, exactly this two. Together we will try to build a beautiful new home for our chickens."

"If ya want."

With these words, Daryl pressed a longing kiss on your shoulder before he broke away from you and slowly left the bed.

You first stretched yourself with relish before you turned around and watched your boyfriend get dressed. A warm feeling spread in your body at the thought that this man was your man, that this man wanted to be your man. You were so incredibly happy. You would never trade Daryl for anything or anyone in the world.

When he approached you and leaned over - his hands propped up on the left and right of your head - you were still lying in bed dreaming.

He had to go, after all, his shift on the Guard Tower soon began.

"See ya in the fields then", he said with a smirk.

“Unfortunately, you have to do without me today. Rick and I want to look for a location for our chicken coop first thing today."

"Ya're breakin’ my heart," he whispered as he gave you a gentle kiss on the lips, longingly and so full of love.

"I'm sure you will survive," you smirked.

---------------------------------------------

Contrary to your usual practice, you had helped Carol prepare breakfast that morning while you waited for Rick. Typically, you would always start your days in the gardens to get much of the work done before the sun got too stinging and made the job difficult.

But today you were only there for a short time, had brought the chickens there for the time being. You wanted them to take care of the pests that are currently making life difficult for your plants - hopeful that they would not attack the freshly set lettuce plants.

It was unusual for the residents of the prison to be woken up so early in the morning by the screams of their newest roommate. It was not to be underestimated how loud this little feathered guy could be. The young rooster, however, was not deterred by the confused looks and kept crowing while he watched his girls who happily scratched the ground.

People would get used to it sooner or later, you were sure of that. Apart from the fact that the poultry's permanent residence in your community was not up for discussion anyway.

These animals would ensure your survival and were essential to building a secure future. And your hope was anyway that it would not be the only livestock that would populate your little farm in the future.

Even if some ex-Woodbury residents were not exactly happy about their boisterous and loud alarm clock. First and foremost Michelle, who made a rather pinched impression when she showed up in the canteen that morning.

She had avoided you since the incident during your run. You were actually very happy about it, only the look with which she was looking at you gave an idea of how much she displeased you.

But you did not have time to think about it that day, after all, a big construction project was waiting for you, and by the time you and Rick went to inspect the site, you had long since forgotten about the blonde woman.

-------------------------------------------

If there was one thing that was not lacking in the Prisons office complex, it was pens and paper. Whoever took care of the administration here before the apocalypse broke out was a real hamster.

So it was easy for you to organize the necessary material to start drawing the plans right away. After all, organizing such a building project was easier with a blueprint than without one.

The place was chosen, now all that was missing was the plan and the necessary building materials.

The plan was your responsibility, and the men would get the necessary building materials.

Rick, Jake and Josh were already gathering everything necessary to start construction as quickly as possible.

You approached the matter with a lot of patience, trying not to forget anything that could be important, while line by line you put your new chicken coop on the paper. There was a lot to think about.

The stable had to be built on stilts so that the ground did not start to rot at some point if it was constantly standing in the damp earth, and still be stable. Inside there had to be enough space for cleared nests and perches, and the stable had to be easy to clean, after all, it had to be mucked out regularly.

Concentrated you sat over the plans and tried to consider everything, that you had lost all sense of time.

"Ya even know what ya're doin’?"

You were just thinking about a possible extension - should the chicken population grow faster than you thought - and had not noticed that Daryl had approached.

"Believe it or not ..." you began absently, but you did not get very far.

"But yar mother taught ya how to build a chicken coop when ya were a child," said Daryl with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Smart ass!” You said curtly, without even looking up from your work.

But then suddenly you stopped. Thoughtfully, you looked up at your boyfriend and thought for a moment.

"Was that just a déjà vu?"

You looked questioningly at Daryl, who was still standing next to you, grinning. By now he had leaned over your blueprint, resting his left arm on the table while he placed his other arm lovingly between your shoulder blades.

"No seriously. Who taught ya that. Looks really professional."

Silently you looked at the drawing in front of you again. A painful tightness spread in your chest, making it difficult for you to breathe. You had not thought of him in a long time, you hardly had time to longingly mourn the past.

But here and now the grief suddenly and unprepared attacked you.

"Jeff," you whispered with a sad smile.

"Your brother?"

"Yes," you nodded.

Slowly your gaze changed, was no longer thoughtful and dreamy, and Daryl noticed that you were getting sadder from moment to moment. He knew about your brother, after all, you had mentioned him repeatedly before.

Everyone had those times when they thought of loved ones who they probably would never see again.

Back at Hershel's farm one night you had told Daryl about Jeff and how close you had been as children. And with tears in your eyes you had talked about what had probably happened to him when the dead began to walk over this world.

If he had known in which direction this conversation was going, he would never have started it.

“As children we always built tree houses,” you finally began, still smiling sadly, “once we even tried a trapper's hut. After all, it survived a winter. He was great at that; then he even studied architecture. Did I tell you that? Immediately after graduating, he took a job in Denver, where he met his great love. And then the offer came from New York. He and Valerie had only just moved when ... "

You had to take a shivering breath. Since the beginning of this apocalypse, you had not heard from him. And the likelihood that he was still alive was almost zero.

"’m sorry … shouldn't have asked."

It hurt Daryl to watch as you tried to bravely swallow your tears. He had not intended to reopen the wound the loss of your family had left. During your story, he sat down next to you on the bench and was now lovingly stroking your back.

"You do not have to be sorry. It's nice to think of him again. Even when it hurts."

"Don't think he would have loved me that much," Daryl laughed bitterly.

“Oh believe me, Daryl, he would have liked you,” you said with a smile, before you couldn't help but grin, “at least before you tried to get into his little sister's panties. Then he would probably have fed you to the next best walker."

"Would have been worth the risk”, Daryl whispered as he gave you a gentle kiss on your temple.

You looked lovingly at the man next to you. You were so grateful to have him by your side. He was your little island of bliss in this sea of horror. Even the painful memory of your brother only hurt half as much when he was with you.

"How is the planning for the new home of our chickens going?" Asked Carol as he sat down at your table with Judith.

"Quite well. The only question that remains is whether we want to make it winterproof or do we want to take the chickens into our buildings in winter. We currently have enough space."

You instantly found your coolness again; were calm and collected like nothing had happened.

Since so many people joined your community, you tried to keep your feelings to yourself more. And with a few exceptions, there was only one person inside the prison fences who also knew your vulnerable side. Who knew every aspect of your personality, every dark abyss of your soul, and loved every single one of it.

Daryl.

"I don't have a lot of experience with it," admitted Carol, "but I suppose these animals are not very frost-proof."

“Not really,” you smiled, “so we should give them nice winter quarters within the walls. Just to be sure."

"But one with enough space, hopefully we'll soon have a lot of chicks," Daryl said mischievously.

"So I don't need to add scrambled eggs to the menu anytime soon," said Carol with a shrug.

"Not for the time being. Sorry."

------------------------------------------

Daryl was leaning on a shovel at the construction site of the new chicken coop. He had just dug the last hole in the ground, in which one of the wooden posts would soon find its place – to form the basic structure of this building.

With a certain amount of pride, he watched you take on the construction supervision of this project with seemingly effortless ease. You organized the individual construction phases cleverly and nimbly, so that even experienced construction workers like Jake and Josh could be guided by you.

You were ready to listen to every single suggestion and weigh the pros and cons without losing sight of the goal.

Daryl was fascinated by this new facet about you, he had never noticed it before.

Here and now you seemed like a born leader. You could guide and be helpful, but at the same time you could be strict and get your way through when it was necessary. You also knew how to handle hammer and nails, how to perfectly level a construction site - and you were absolutely not afraid to lend a hand yourself.

It was obvious that this was not your first construction project to be implemented. Every single one of your movements was safe and you did not hesitate for a moment if help was needed anywhere.

Little by little, on that day, a chicken coop was actually built on the now leveled lawn, with four walls, a roof and a small access bridge for the little animals, whose coop stood on almost 15-inch-high stilts.

Inside you had perches installed and separate niches in which hopefully the next generation would soon be hatched.

"And now," Rick finally wanted to know as he stood next to you, exhausted.

"Now we need some straw so that the girls can make themselves really comfortable in there. And then they can actually move in."

"I'll get the straw," said Daryl, turning around and going on to tackle the easier part of the move.

He knew only too well how difficult it was to catch these damned beasts, and now he was not going to make a fool of himself in front of everyone.

"Then I'll probably take care of the poultry," sighed Rick.

"Do you need help," you asked with a knowing smile.

"No, I think I can handle that."

"If you think so."

Less than five minutes later, you were hunched over with laughter. It was so funny watching Rick as he tried to catch the chickens. Two Woodbury residents wanted to help him but had even less chance of getting within three feet of the poultry.

It was an incredibly funny spectacle, especially when Rick was lying on his stomach in the dirt at some point, and one of the chickens quickly jumped over his back to finally - with a loud cackling - run away.

"Do you think they need help," said Maggie, who meanwhile had to wipe away her tears from laughing.

"If we want to bring the chickens into the barn today, then we have to," you laughed, "but I haven't had such a good time for a long time."

For two more minutes you and your best friend watched the show in front of you, until you finally felt sorry and stepped in to help.

Still giggling, you shook your head, took the bowl with the grains that you used as chicken feed and walked slowly towards the frightened creatures, while Maggie slowly approached from the other side to get any outliers back on the right track.

You shook the bowl in your hand noisily as you walked through the gardens.

"Tuck tuck tuck," you started calling the chickens while you kept shaking the bowl.

It was not long before the animals began to watch you curiously. When they finally approached you - hoping perhaps to get some food - you made your way back to the chicken coop; without stopping to attract the poultry further.

Maggie followed a few yards away to make sure none of the chickens disappeared.

Finally, you stopped in front of the open stall door and sprinkled feed in the stall and on the step bridge for the chickens.

It took less than five minutes and all the animals, including the rooster, were safely stowed in the hen house, ready for the first night in their new home.

"Couldn't you have done that right from the start," said Rick, a little annoyed, as he brushed the dust off his clothes.

The embarrassed grin on his face betrayed that he was not angry at all, but rather was busy trying to keep himself from laughing at himself.

"If we had," replied Maggie, "that would have been only half as fun."

"Yea, Haha, it was so funny." Rick said sarcastically.

“Oh yes, believe me Rick, it was. It definitely was."

“For the future, Rick; ya should never mess with farmer-girls”, grinned Daryl, who of course did not miss the whole spectacle.

------------------------------------------

It was late, just after sunset. You had made yourself comfortable on your bed and were absorbed in that old western novel that you had found in the library of the prison. You had been a veritable bookworm even before the Apocalypse, and now that there was another opportunity to indulge in this hobby, nothing and no one could stop you.

In the soft glow of the kerosene lamp your eyes wandered over the lines on the already slightly yellowed pages, while blissful silence enveloped you. Your day had been busy, and your muscles felt sore after the unfamiliar work.

You would spend the first half of the night alone today. Daryl had taken Rick's shift at the Guard Tower after Judith was weep today and just did not want to let her father go. Apart from the fact that Rick had been more than exhausted after today's chicken adventure.

But Daryl was happy to take over his shift immediately. He just had a weakness for this lil asskicker - as he affectionately called her. One day this stubborn redneck would become a wonderful father. You had known that for a long time, even if he still doubted it.

> KNOCK KNOCK <

"Yes," you looked up from your book, confused.

Actually, you didn't expect any more visitors. The door opened slowly, and Maggie stuck her head through the gap with a smile.

"Hey Y/N/N, am I bothering you?"

“No, not really. Why?"

"Where's Daryl?"

"Guard Tower. He's taken on Rick's shift."

"How long will he be gone?"

“His shift has just started. Why are you asking Maggie?"

"So we have time for a girls-night!"

"Think so?"

"Perfect, I also brought gifts."

Hardly a moment later the young woman was on your bed with you, her legs crossed, while she grinned mischievously at you. It took a few moments before you noticed the cloth sack in her hand.

"Please tell me that you don't plan to take out your nail polish and make-up now. I don't think I'm in the mood for it."

“No, don't get silly. No nail polish, no make-up, and we're not going to do each other's hair. This is going to be more of a grown-up version of a girls-night. "

"Okay Maggie, just for the record, you scare me."

Jokingly, she gave you a clap on the shoulder before opening the sack in her lap and looking inside happily.

"Well, first of all, something that every woman can use nowadays."

And with that she got a cardboard box about 4x2 inches out of the sack.

"May the days be less of a problem during the days," said Maggie, handing you the box.

Confused, you looked at the thing in your hand. It looked almost new and the writing was easy to read.

When you finally understood what you were holding in your hand, you looked in amazement at the woman in front of you.

“This is a lady cup. Where did you find that?"

You could hardly hide your astonishment. You had not seen anything like this in years, and not only once did you wish you had not left yours at home.

“This Amazon warehouse was a real treasure trove. Not just in terms of the preserving jars. "

“So that,” you held up the little box, “will make all this menstrual shit a lot easier during an apocalypse. Slowly the tampons became really scarce. And I was so afraid that sooner or later I would have to do the thing with free bleeding too. However, I don't think I would be able to do that with my daily routine."

"You can say that again. Mine is already safely tucked away in my cell."

“It's interesting how the priorities change when the world suddenly ends,” you philosophized while looking at the little box in your hand from all sides.

"You're right."

"I think if the world weren't so close to the edge, I wouldn't be where I am now," you said thoughtfully.

"Are you talking about Daryl and you?"

"No … yes … somehow ... yes. Daryl and I would probably never have met. We would never have gotten together. And to be honest, I don't like this idea."

“Even if that sounds pathetic now, but you and Daryl, you two are meant for each other. I think you would have run into each other either way. I can well imagine that you two would have happened one way or another."

“You have to say something like that, Maggie, you are my best friend. But thanks anyway. And as for you and Glenn ..."

"Oh that was just sex," laughed Maggie.

“And sex became love,” you smiled conspiratorially, “and don't even try to deny it. Any blind person can see how much you love your Korean boy."

“I don't mean to deny anything. But at least it wasn't as much of a drama with Glenn and me as it was with the two of you."

"What are you talking about?”

With mock insult, you cross your arms in front of your body.

“Oh come on, Y/N/N, that was really like a soap opera. You have no idea how desperate we all were because the two of you couldn't handle it."

“Yeah, thank you, don't remind me. With the amount of tears I've shed because of him, this whole prison could be flooded. I'm just glad that Michelle leaves me alone now."

"And I thought you'd be glad you and Daryl are a couple now," Maggie replied mischievously.

"You are so stupid sometimes," you laughed and playfully pelted your friend with your pillow, "of course I am. Very much."

"I know what you mean. She was so after you. That was really no longer normal. She felt like a high school bully to me."

"Yes, thank you. Please don't remind me. I'm just glad she stopped chasing after Daryl."

"That doesn't surprise me at all," said Maggie with a shrug.

"Why?"

"Wait a minute, you don't know?"

"What shall I know?"

"Daryl gave this woman hell."

You stared at Maggie in disbelief, eyes wide and mouth wide in shock.

"He has what? When? Where? Why? How?"

“You were still in the infirmary. Daryl was more or less busy moving. He partly overheard a conversation, "began Maggie meekly, and you noticed how uncomfortable the whole thing was for her, "that was really not intended, honestly. But he heard Carol and I ... well, we talked about how we actually blame Michelle for it - that you almost died. Especially after she scolded you for so long. Though I would have liked to have punched her earlier because of that, just like Carol."

"And how did Daryl react to that," you asked nervously.

"Well, first he confronted us, and then he snapped into protection mode."

"Oh shit."

"Yes. He then went to Michelle and confronted her ... although he didn't even really let her have a say. The woman got the lecture of her life. I'm actually surprised that you didn't hear Daryl in the infirmary, the way he screamed."

“Wow, I know what it is like when Daryl freaks out. I'm almost sorry for the woman."

"Seriously? That woman messed you up for weeks and now you feel sorry for her? I think she deserves what she got."

“I said: I'm ALMOST sorry for her, not that I feel sorry for her. That's a difference Maggs."

“Well, whatever. In any case, that was the last day that Michelle got close to Daryl."

You tried to hold back a grin as you looked at Maggie through your eyelashes.

"Does that sound bad when I tell you that I even enjoy the fact that she has disappeared from our periphery."

“No, it doesn't. I understand that. And I am so glad that you two are finally happy together."

Your friend hugged you lovingly.

"Thanks."

“Where we are on that subject right now. I still have something for you. Or rather for both of you. So that you can have fun without a guilty conscience."

And with that she reached into her cloth sack again and took out another box. Larger than the previous one, and two more that looked like toothpaste wrappers.

You looked at your best friend questioningly.

"Read", she just said and held out the larger box to you, "read."

Confused, you took it from her and began to read. After the first few words your eyes widened, and you stared at Maggie in shock; your mouth opened wide. Hardly a moment later you grabbed one of the other packages and read the label.

"Oh my God. How? Where?"

"As I said, this Amazon warehouse was a real treasure trove."

"Amazon sold something like that?"

"Seems so."

"Oh my fucking god", you shouted a little louder and still couldn't believe what you were holding in your hand.

"Yes, I think you will soon call that more often in these four walls."

Instantly you froze and looked at Maggie in silence and wide-eyed. Hardly three seconds later you both started to laugh loudly, as if on command. You just could not believe what this woman had brought you from that run.

A bloody condom was nowhere to be found within a radius of no idea how many miles. But Maggie had somehow managed to find a diaphragm with the corresponding spermicide gel in this huge hall complex of a former mail order company.

"Do you think the stuff still works," you said thoughtfully after a while.

“According to the expiration date, it should work for at least another year. I don't think it'll take you more than a year to use it up, though,” Maggie said mischievously.

"I don't even know what to say."

"Thanks would be a good start."

"Thanks. I mean that honestly."

"No problem."

"Please don't get me wrong, it's not that Daryl and I aren't having fun, but ..."

"But sex brings a certain closeness that you can hardly achieve in any other way," Maggie completed your train of thought.

"Yes."

"To be honest, I have to show you both my respect."

"Why?"

"Well, living so close together, being together without ever really having sex ... I don't think Glenn and I would manage that. No matter how good he is at the thing down there."

“Well on that point I can't really complain. But thank you for this gift. I really appreciate it."

"You're wellcome."

“Normally I would say I'll think of you when I use it. But in this case …."

"Oh my god please don't."

And with that, both of you laughing, continued to dedicate yourselves to your girls-night.

Maggie and you were just having a great time about how Rick had tried his hand at catching chickens today. It had been a divine spectacle. The two of you had not been able to laugh at something like that for a long time - as you did today at Rick - who at some point lay face down on the floor while the chicken ran nimbly over him.

“Am I botherin’ ya?” You heard Daryl's deep voice at some point.

You and Maggie were surprised to see the redneck standing in the doorway.

"You're back," you asked in amazement, your cheeks still reddened from laughing.

"Yes? Why shouldn't I?"

"Oh god, what time is it," Maggie wanted to know.

"A little after midnight," Daryl replied in surprise.

Neither of you expected that. The time had passed by, and neither of you had noticed how late it was.

“Oh my god, I have to go back. It's a miracle that Glenn hasn't sent a search party yet."

Still laughing, Maggie gathered up her things and quickly made her way back to the cell block, but not without yelling "see you tomorrow".

"Did you have fun?"

"Obviously."

"Was this a kind of girls-night or somethin’?" Daryl asked while he took off his crossbow and put it in its place.

"Yes, something like that."

"Like > painting each other's nails < and so?"

You could hear the sarcasm in his voice and punished the man across from you with a slightly annoyed look.

"Seriously?"

"Yea."

"No. No nail polish, no makeup. And before you ask, we didn't do each other's hair either."

"No, just laughed at Rick tryin’ to catch the chickens today."

A smile tugged on Daryl's lips as he thought of that afternoon's show.

"Oh come on, that was really funny. And you laughed yourself. Don't think I didn't see that."

"The poor man was pretty exhausted after the whole story."

"Yes, but he didn't want my help ... at least initially. I just hope Judith lets him sleep tonight."

"Well, otherwise we have to expect a grumpy Rick tomorrow."

"Unthinkable!"

Theatrically you held your head and fell back on the bed, on which you were still sitting.

"Actually, I didn't expect to find ya awake," Daryl finally said as he took off his jeans.

“Wasn't planned that way either. But Maggs and I kind of lost track of time."

"Typical girls."

"Newsflash smart ass: I'm a girl."

"Already noticed."

Slowly you realized how tired and exhausted you actually were. You stretched yourself with relish, and some of your joints cracked before you relaxed and snuggled into your pillow.

"Tired?"

"Yes, very."

"That's what happens when ya're up all night instead of sleepin’."

"Oh shut up and come here," you said, just slightly annoyed.

"Yes ma'am."

Hardly a moment later you felt the mattress next to you dipping in due to its weight. He put his left arm to the side to make room for you. As if on cue, you snuggled up close to him and nestled your head in the little hollow between his neck and his shoulder.

Daryl put his arm around you. He lovingly began to draw patterns on your back with his fingertips. A feeling of absolute happiness flooded you as you just enjoyed being close to him. The tender caresses on your back relaxed you more and more, and you already noticed how you were slowly falling asleep.

"I'm proud of ya," you heard Daryl whisper.

His rough voice made his chest vibrate under you.

"Why?" You asked, already slightly sleeping.

“Ya did a great job today with the chicken coop. I'm really proud of ya," Daryl muttered before giving you a long kiss on the top of the head, "and Jeff would be too."

[joisbishmyoga]

Ok, to go with my headcanon about the Hogwarts Founders (to wit: based on etymology, they can't be contemporous), I have headcanons about Hogwarts castle itself.

Number one! It, like the Founders, was ALSO not all contemporous. (And my apologies that I still can't find the goddamn keep-reading option.)

Helga never-actually-Hufflepuff's Hogwarts, c. 990-1090:

The original and oldest part of the school is the tower that now houses the famous moving staircases and the Headmaster's Office. (It wasn't alone, though: it had a number of outbuildings, stables and smithies and such, that have long since vanished.)

The tower was not, at the time, a hollow column full of moving staircases. It was a defensive watchtower akin to Threave Castle in Scotland, though somewhat taller and a little bit larger. It was also not round at the time, which can still be seen in the fact that the interior is square; later generations simply added walls to make it round. There are almost certainly late medieval and Renaissance defenses, as well as secret passages, built into the space between the original tower and the rounding walls.

The tower's long-since-removed floors:

Cellars (wine and cold storage).

Ground floor (entrance, reception, kitchens).

2nd floor, in the American style of count (dining, Helga's room).
3rd floor (classrooms)

4th floor (dorms: divided by gender and class rather than age)

5th floor (servants and defense).

The cellars expanded regularly over the centuries, a new room or corridor or floor built every time the castle's population (or political demands, see below) needed more cold storage.

The conical roof and the modern Headmaster's suite were added at a much later date.

Rowena Hraefenclew's Hogwarts, c. 1050-1150:

The first expansion of the castle was the modern-day Great Hall, though it lacked the enchanted ceiling attributed later to Ravenclaw. The recieving of guests was transferred to this space from the original tower, and the grand entertainments of medieval feasts and banquets were added to school life -- a requirement of any social networking, as Rowena steered the school through the political mess of the era without getting entangled in any of it.

(The enchanted ceiling was a Renaissance creation, adding light to what had been a very dim space. The original enchantment wasn't of the sky, though, and the modern ceiling would appall the people of the 1400s: what is so grand or impressive or artistic about just making the roof invisible?

(Not having a masterpiece of Christian religious art looming over the heads of hundreds -- thousands -- of magicals who'd just lived through zealous persecution, is what. The people who charmed it all invisible considered the frescoes to be quite gauche and impolitic.))

Salazar Slytherin and Godric Gryffindor's Hogwarts, c. 1150-1250:

The High Middle Ages brought a massive amount of upheaval to England (and France: half of the modern nation was ruled by England at the start of this period), as well as the rest of Europe. This is the era later connected to Robin Hood, the age of the Magna Carta and Richard the Lionheart and Prince (King) John... and that is where we begin, with Richard faffing off to join the (many, many, MANY) Crusades, and King John losing the entirety of the French regions of his rule. Loss of land = loss of wealth --> spikes in taxes and fees on nobles --> furious nobles --> Magna Carta + King John's reputation forever in the toilet + the absentee and therefore not interfering with nobles' power and money King Richard getting lauded as the best king ever (spoiler: he v much was NOT).

Richard's career included internecine rebellions, uprisings, cruelty in what provinces he bothered to rule (in France), and widespread Jewish persecution. (Things that are pretty much always in Europe: Jewish persecution. The Crusades were mostly massive disasters that did very little to Islamic rule and population in the Holy Land, but exterminated some 90% of Jewish Europe on the way. HSST.)

All of this is to say that Salazar and Godric's Hogwarts expanded to accomodate thousands of Jewish, wandering-poor, and magical refugees from the Continent: Hogwarts was still the only formal, centralized school of magic in all of Europe, and would be for several more decades.

The school still didn't reach the modern extent by the end of this building period, but got up to about 50 percent, adding almost everything on one side of the ravine that cuts through the bluff. Except for the clock tower, the Great Hall's half of the school was complete.

This is also when Hogsmeade changed from being a House-Elf farming settlement to a human town, and for the same reason: Continental refugees, largely from the Childrens' Crusade -- thousands of people of all ages, later thought to all be children due to a misunderstanding in language. (The word for "child" was co-opted to mean "the working/wandering poor": basically, "the (socially) powerless".)

The post-Founders' Hogwarts, c. 1250-1900:

The second half of the school, the conical tower rooftops (and rooms inside them), the internal plumbing for baths (but not toilets), and all the bridges -- both the stone ones across the ravine and the wooden one to Hogsmeade -- were all built in a hurry in the late 1500 and early 1600s, this time to handle refugees during the last few decades before the Statute of Secrecy. The modern Headmaster's Office was also built at this time, as high as possible to cover all approaches to Hogwarts.

Unlike the stone bridges of the ravine, the bridge to Hogsmeade has always been made of wood, in order to be easily destroyed should the castle come under attack. (And in fact it actually has been destroyed several times, most recently in the 1970s as a pre-emptive measure against Voldemort. It was then rebuilt in 1982 with more nostalgia than construction skill.)

As mentioned before, this -- the early 1600s -- is when the Great Hall's enchanted fresco ceiling was rendered invisible.

The T-shaped clock wing on the Great Hall's side, being a six-story pendulum-type clock, was built in the early 1800s, and improved in the late 1800s for accuracy and not whacking students around like golf balls. (The restrooms were also added and improved at these times.)

The greenhouses were built around 1900: Dumbledore might well have had Herbology classes before they were put in.

Now then. That is all headcanon #1. Construction headcanon #2:

Hogwarts is in TERRIBLE condition.

The famous enchanted ceiling is perhaps the most obvious damaged spot. Or it would be if it hadn't been charmed invisible. While it had Owl Post holes in it. (For the record, the easiest way to bring down, say, a barn? Chop a 3x3 ft. hole in the roof and wait ten years.) For the last four or five centuries, every time someone on staff noticed they were getting dripped on, they just threw an Impervious Charm up at the ceiling and considered the leak magically fixed. There's literally nothing left but the Impervious charms and a few scraps of gold leaf.

The stairs are another trouble spot. Centuries of people walking on them should have them worn down in the middle to look like you cut a bowl in half vertically. Would have, but the House Elves have been pulling the stone up flat again for centuries, and eventually started using magic to color-match and add enough support to the remaining stone to take people's weight. Some of the well-known trick stairs that like to disappear? That's not the magic being playful. That's the magic of late House Elves fritzing out to show there's no step left. (The moving stairs have also ground down their joints to nothing.)

It's the same across the entire castle. Centuries of manipulating the materials and covering wear with illusions and throwing Impervious Charms at drafts and drips means a lot of Hogwarts is nothing but swiss cheese and fading spells cast by long-deceased magicals anymore.

(Or it was, until the Battle of Hogwarts in 1998 disrupted enough of the remaining spells to drop them. Voldemort's forces were powerful, but not THAT powerful.)

(A large percentage of the two generations following Harry's were saved by the Battle of Hogwarts. Slytherin House was a misaimed hex away from flooding, and most of the towers were going to collapse with a few more winters of ice picking away at the mortar. Of course if the previous several centuries of magicals had just bothered to check...)

[descendantofthesparrow]

Interlude - Rewrite POYW- Harry Hook x reader - Part 7 - Plans coming together

=

-1 year and 11 months later(January 2019)-

Ben placed his hands on his hips and smiled, looking up at the large entrance doors to the newly appointed VK shelter. Everything was finished, from the kitchens to the smallest tile in the bathrooms. it was all ready, over 100 people were hired and ready to make food, repair damages if made, counselors, therapists, caretakers. Everything Ben could think of was implemented and ready to go. The CPS still had some paperwork to be approved and worked through, so Ben was looking at late July early August for the six new vks to be in Auradon.

Which would be six-seven months from now but, at least it was only six to seven months and not the 3 years it's been since he promised and started on getting more vks off the isle, including the start of production of the shelter and CPS system.

Ben pulled out his phone and smiled, in only a few days it would also be the 3rd anniversary of the first six vks arrival, they had arrived about two weeks before his birthday and his birthday was also the third anniversary of his time as king and his 18th birthday.

January had a lot to celebrate, didn’t it?

He knew the vks were planning something for him, and they were all keeping most of the information secret so they could surprise him. The only thing he knew was that Evie rented out a place for the party, invited Ben's closest friends that weren’t the vks. (Audrey, Jane, Doug, and Lonnie. Chad was invited too but Jay and Carlos told Ben about Chad’s very sus behavior about Ben when they told him about Bens capture on the isle so Ben was slightly wary of his old friend)

Ben had planned for a party for the 3rd anniversary of the original six vks arrivals for the vks but they wanted to wait until the next group came to Auradon, wanting to celebrate with their fellow villain kids. So Ben now mentally rescheduled the party to be in August, not knowing the exact date they would be getting the vks.

“We’re getting closer!” Ben couldn’t keep the grin off his face as he turned to see Mal walking towards him, her plum-colored shoulder-length hair in a low messy bun and wearing her favorite poison green jacket and purple and black dyed jeans. “Just a couple more months and we can finally get more kids off the isle” Ben hummed and looked back at the shelter, nodding to himself and tossing his arm over Mal's shoulder and leading her back towards the car where Luis, his chauffeur, was sitting in, waiting for them to be done looking over the building.

“Yep, I’m glad (y/n) and I were able to get the council to agree to us transferring kids twice a month, so it won't be as slow a process” Mal nodded along in agreement, remembering when (y/n), Evie, and Ben had emerged from the meeting room with shit-eating grins, telling Mal and the others that they had tricked the council into agreeing with their new terms.

“Yeah, twelve kids instead of only six a month, who knows maybe by next year we’ll already have most of the isle empty, other than the people that actually deserve to be there” Mal narrowed her eyes as her mind flashed to the thought of Captain Hook and Cruella, two of the cruelest parents on the isle “not a single kid deserves to be there a second longer”

“No they do not, but we need to do this carefully, I don’t want to risk anyone dangerous getting off the isle.” Mal nodded in agreement, stepping to the side as Ben opened the car door and let Mal slide in first, stepping in after her and closing the door, buckling up and nodding at Luis to head back to the castle.

Luis nodded and drove off, Mal and Ben continuing to talk quietly in the back. “So we’ll definitely have to have security guards, though last time we didn’t really need them?” Mal nodded again in agreement, remembering when Ben and the others had gone to grab Harry's sisters, the twins, Sammy and Dizzy, it had basically gone off without a hitch, but that might have been because of Harriet's crew acting as security for them.

“Yeah, we can see how the first one goes and if we see any sign of potential danger or someone trying to get out, we’ll get some guards to follow us to and from the side, maybe on bikes so they don’t have to do the whole getting in and out of the car. But we should probably wait on guards for a bit, having so many adults from Auradon that they don’t see regularly might make them antsy, I know I would be.” Ben nodded, they didn’t want to make the vks still on the isle think they didn’t trust them, so they might have to wait on guards at least for the first few pickups.

“Yeah, good idea” Ben sighed, slouching in his seat and looking out the car window, watching the forest go by as Luis drove back towards his castle. “still kinda sucks It's going to be at least another 6 months from now until we can even pick the kids but…at least somethings happening?” Mal placed her hand on Ben's shoulder and gave a reassuring smile.

“Hey, you’re doing your best, we all know that, the vks on the isle know that. It’s not your fault that the council is preventing you from doing what you want or need to do” Ben gave Mal a watery smile and leaned into her as she wrapped her arms around him for a moment before she pulled back.

“Thank you Mal” Ben murmured, sitting back up and unbuckling his seatbelt as the car pulled up to the castle and Luis pulled open the door, Ben and Mal slipping out and making their way into the castle, continuing to talk about the plans for the isle.

“VK day huh?” Ben chuckled, remembering Doug and Evie’s suggestion to make the selection days for the new vks a whole day for them, to let the children enjoy a day just for them. “That doesn't sound bad, if Evie wants, I can buy out that old abandoned warehouse downtown and you can all do whatever you want with it to make it like the party place, so you can have your own isle place in Auradon” Mal beamed, looking up at Ben with her eyes shining.

“That actually sounds cool! Yeah! Let's do that! I can spray paint the walls n stuff and-and Jay can-“ Ben let Mal ramble on as he pulled out his phone and texted Lumiere about the new plan, who quickly texted him back that he would take care of it.

Ben put his phone away and looked to Mal again, who was still rambling about the isle and the precautions they should take.

Ben grabbed her arm and led her to the garden balcony, where the rest of their friends were waiting. “Beasty boy~!” Harry cheered, Evie holding her arms out as Mal snapped out of her rambling and skipped toward her friend, halfway crawling into Evie's lap and snuggling into her, Evie giggling as Mal did so. “Yeh finally made it, and ‘ere I thought yeh got assassinated”

“I’m sure if I was you would be the first to know and avenge me” Ben smiled, sitting next to Carlos and Jay, picking up the plate full of fruit and taking a chunk of mango off the pile. Harry hummed and shrugged.

“Depends on who assassinated yeh, if it was (y/n)” Harry gestured to you, who was curled up next to him reading a book “I wouldn’t do a damn thing” Ben nodded in understanding.

“As you should” Doug and Lonnie looked at each other at Ben's nonchalant attitude towards Harry's morbid sense of humor, then shrugged. Over the last three years, the two had gotten used to the vks humor and way of interacting with the world so it hardly bothered them nowadays, especially when Ben reacted in a way that played along with the vks.

Harry took out his phone after it vibrated in his pocket and raised his brow, then laughed “CJ forgot why it's like spring in January” Ben laughed at that, shaking his head.

“Didn’t we tell her like, three times now?” (y/n) said from her spot, peeking over Harry's shoulder to look at the text from CJ.

“Aye, but yeh know ‘er, she forgets what she deems unimportant” Harry mumbled, texting back CJ with the answer to her question.

“Isn’t ‘January is charmed by FG to be spring weather for Ben’s birthday’ an important thing?” Lonnie asked, tossing marshmallows at Doug as he attempted to catch them in his mouth.

“You would think?” Harry snorted, pressing the send button and setting his phone on the table, leaning back in his seat and hiking his feet on the table, crossing his ankles and arms with a smirk “But CJ doesn’t think so apparently.”

Ben let out a small laugh, his eyes drifting over to Carlos, who was hunched over a small metallic object, wires poking out the top and sides, sparking as he messed with the object with a metal-tipped tool. “Carlos watcha’ doing?”

“Making a thing” was all he said, sniffing as a spark shot at his nose and burned him slightly, Evie leaning over and rubbing his nose as he leaned away from the object “um-project-high tech thing” Ben smiled as Carlos pushed Evie’s hand away gently, giving her a reassuring smile as he went back to his work “I’m tryna make a portable projector that can connect to my phone, I don’t feel like getting out my laptop every time Jay or Mal want to watch a movie but are too lazy to go sit on the couch to look at the tv”

“It's always so far away!!!” Mal justified her laziness, a pout on her lips as Ben and Evie gave her a look, a teasing smile on their faces. Carlos just pressed his lips together and Mal stuck her tongue out, pulling back as Carlos leaned forward and attempted to touch her tongue with the metal-tipped tool “hey!”

“Don’t stick your tongue out at me then! You all know I always have something electric on me, be annoying get shocked” Carlos cackled, spinning the tool between his fingers then getting back to work, Dude resting his face on Carlos’ leg and whining for attention from his favorite person. Jay leaned down to see Dude and picked him up, setting the dog on his lap and feeding Dude a slice of turkey.

Dude had long lost the ability to talk, the truth potion gummy Evie had made two and a half years ago wearing off soon after cotillion, for it was never intended to last longer than a day or two. Carlos was slightly relieved when it wore off, while it was nice to talk to Dude easily, Dude talked too easily and had been prone to reveal things Carlos and Jay hadn't really wanted to be revealed.

Besides, Carlos could still speak dog so it didn’t stop any communication between the two. Though the rest of the teens were relieved to be free of Dude’s sometimes badly timed jokes and begging for butt scratches.

Ben relaxed in his seat and sighed, enjoying a quiet moment with his friends as they ate and talked, pushing down a smile as he noticed Harry messing with (y/n)s ring finger on her left hand, she continued to only pay attention with her book, letting Harry do what he wanted.

Ben sighed again and closed his eyes, pushing back his hair on its back legs, feeling the charming spring breeze gently caress his face.

Only 8 more months till the awaited day, and there was so much that was going to happen in between it all.

His and Jays birthday this month, his 3rd anniversary being king, the 3rd anniversary of the original 6 vks arrival in Auradon, the applications being finally sent out in July, the cps set to be finally finished in May, most of the vks and aks graduation from Auradon prep in June, and Harry had something planned for (y/n) that he had only told his sisters and Ben so far.

And so much had happened before! Some of the group had turned 19 within the last year and we're beginning to find career paths in the world. Mal was looking at art collages to become a full-time freelance artist, Jay was looking at a professional tourney career and was looking at Sherwood Forest University for their tourney program, Evie was already deep into the fashion world, half of Auradon already wearing her brand and was designing a whole line for the upcoming spring, and Carlos already had an internship ready to go at Stark industries.

Harry was being scouted for multiple modeling jobs thanks to Evie hiring him as her model for almost three years now, (y/n) had a solid ���at home’ job as a freelance digital artist, Lonnie was planning a temporary professional R.O.A.R career then joining the Chinese military to be at her mother's side as a general like her parents.

Doug was Evie's financer and personal assistant; Jane would be trained to become the next Fairy godmother so FG could retire. Audrey; he didn’t know exactly what she was doing but Ben heard from Chad that she was thinking of publishing her stories she had been writing for years now, Chad wasn’t planning for much, probably just going to live off his parent's money and live his life as a lavish prince (which no shame to Chad, Ben sometimes wished he could just chill with no worries about the world)

But all that wasn’t exactly something Ben had to worry about for a bit, right now he had nothing to do other than relax with his friends. He smiled as he heard Jane and Gil walk onto the garden balcony, the two separating as Gil sat next to Carlos and Jane next to (y/n). The two were temporarily broken up as Gil was now a legal adult at 18 (he was turning 19 in March) and Jane two years younger than him at 16. While no one, including Jane’s mother, had a problem with their relationship, the two decided to take a break until Jane was 18, if only because the two didn’t want any dirty looks from the old-fashioned Auradon folks.

Ben closed his eyes again and rested against his chair, ignoring Harry as the pirate began to balance oreos on Ben's exposed forehead, Mal snickering and helping Harry in his quest.

-one week later-

Ben stepped out of his car and walked into the jewelry shop, smiling as he saw Harry, CJ, and Harriet in the corner of the shop, Harry messing with his black-banded ruby ring with his fingers as he talked to the shop worker. “And her ring size?” the shop worker asked, holding out his hand as Harry handed him the ring.

“um-(ring size)” Harry offered, leaning on the counter and peeking over his shoulder as Ben stepped next to him and put his hand on Harry's shoulder. “Hey beasty”

“Hello, Harry” Ben hummed, a bright smile on his face as the shop owner looked over the ring and its band “getting it resized?”

“Aye, I've let (y/n) wear it before but it didn’t fit any of her fingers other than ‘er thumb, so” he gestured to the shop worker who started to sketch out the band design so he could copy it into the newly sized metal once made. Ben nodded and peered over Harry's shoulder to see CJ busying herself looking over the rings in the display box, Harriet's hand on her arm to prevent any thievery.

“Why bring them?” Harry looked at him through the corner of his eye.

“Harriet demanded ta come cuz it's our ma’s ring, an’ CJ threatened ta tell (y/n) about it if I didn’t bring ‘er” Ben winced, CJ did want Harry to marry (y/n) so ‘she could finally get a cool sister’ (which always resulted in a slap to the head from Harriet) but she was a brat and held the threat of telling (y/n) about Harry's plan over Harry's head to get what she wanted.

Harry turned back to the shop worker as he called Harry's attention, informing him of the time, price, and pick-up date of the ring resizing. Harry nodded and handed the shop worker his debit card, leaning on the counter as the shop worker walked off to go complete the transaction.

“Plus I wanted some family support” Harry muttered, a shy smile on his lips. Ben laughed softly and patted Harry’s back, rolling his shoulders and pulling down his plain sky-blue t-shirt as he looked around.

“When you thinking of asking?” Ben inquired, smiling as Harry bit his lip and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I dinne kae, we’ve already talked about the possibility of marriage, I wanted ta make sure she was okay with it and she's all for it, but I have no clue when or how I’m gonna ask ‘er” Ben patted Harry’s back again in sympathy, not really having any advice for the flustered Harry.

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out” Ben laughed, standing straight along with Harry as the shop worker returned with Harry's card and handed it to him.

“Thank you, Mr. Hook, it should be ready next month, we’ll give you a call about any updates and when it's finished. Thank you for coming to Doc's jewelry shop” Harry nodded and put his card in his wallet, nodding at Harriet as she grabbed CJ and dragged her out of the store following Harry and Ben, CJ pouting as she stared at the shiny rings.

“Ice cream” CJ demanded, wrenching herself out of Harriet's grip and looking up at Harry with a pout, but she was wearing Harry's hoodie, which almost encased her body completely and it made her much less threatening than she usually was with that ‘Hook’ glare on her face.

“I jus’ bought a fukin’ ring CJ, I ain't buying yeh nothing, yeh have money, use it” Harry snapped, glaring back down at his little sister as she puffed her cheeks and slapped his arm.

Ben laughed loudly and nodding his head towards the ice cream down towards the left end of the strip mall “Come on, I’ll buy” CJ cheered and raced towards the ice cream shop, Harry and Harriet giving the king a look of thanks as Ben trailed after CJ.

-end of part 7-

part 7 bbys~ yep, everything's coming together~ we officially getting to the timeline of D3 and interlude is finally in 2019 yall. and i knoooow Gil and Jane broke up, but while i don't have problem with age gaps, Gils 18, janes 16 (turning 17 that year but still) it looks a bit weird and while FG approves of their relationship the two decided it would be best to wait until Jane is a legal adult. anyway, yep, Harrys gonna propose...HAVE FUN WITH THAT!

permtaglist

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange @lunanight2012

@daughter-of-the-stars11 @musicarose @random-thoughts-003​

@remembered-license​ @rintheemolion​ @verboetoperee​

@imtryingthisout​ @thecaptainsgingersnap​ @jatp-rules-my-life​

[comeondowntosouthparkrpg-blog]

billy “carlos” harris

This isn’t the make-a-wish foundation, fuck off.

Carlos has been accepted! Please send us your blog and a faceclaim to be featured on the main blog!

out of character info

Name/Alias: fuckin me again Pronouns: fuck/fucker/fuckself Age: 19 Join Our Discord: ye Timezone:  est Activity: u know me Triggers: none fuckers Password: jimmy can fast pass my ass Character that you’re applying for: Billy/Carlos Favourite ships for your character: nothing and/or chemistry

in character info

Full name: William Carlos Harris / “Carlos” Birthday: July 3 Sexuality, gender, pronouns: Straight, cis male, he/him Age and grade: 15 sophomore

Appearance:

Carlos is about 5’9, making him one of the tallest out of his classmates, at least, for now. Though he isn’t very tall, he was usually rather lean throughout his life, until he started to get sick and lose some weight. He isn’t necessarily boney, but he’s rather thin, since he tends not to gain much weight no matter what he does. He’s pretty much as white as the next guy during the winter, but he tans very easily. However, more recently he takes some pretty hardcore precautions to avoid skin cancer by wearing loads of sunscreen –– by his mother’s demands –– so throughout high school his skin has stayed rather pale. He prefers to be pale anyways, so it doesn’t matter much to him; he doesn’t want his skin to become dark and wash out his light brown hair which he sometimes plays with by lightening it, either at the barber/salon or by putting something in his hair to make it lighten by itself in the sun, letting it pop up from under the visor that he has to wear to protect his face in the summer. When growing it out it’s wavy, and though it’s all cut short every few months, Carlos has his hair longer on the top for most of the year.

Despite a diverse wardrobe filled with many different stylish pieces, when you break down his outfit combinations they tend to be pretty similar, at least in shape. He’ll wear a baggy shirt or sweater and/or jacket or hoodie, with much less baggy pants, and even skinny jeans or chinos. On special occasions he can be seen in nice button ups and pants, or even a suit. Carlos does like hats, particularly beanies or backwards baseball caps, however he doesn’t go for the hat if he doesn’t feel like it ‘vibes’ with his outfits. He has to have at least one accessory, however, and if it’s not a hat it’ll be sunglasses, a watch, or a necklace. What he lacks in his body type he makes up for in stylishness, as he’s not afraid to take risks and to bring bold styles he sees on tv or magazines into his world to act like he’s not just a cool guy, but he’s a cool guy who dresses better than you AND your girlfriend.

Personality: 

Unaffected by most of the worries that catch his peers, Carlos is used to the unfair, painful aspects of life that others aren’t used to experiencing regularly. Carlos a little punk. He’s used to dropping everything to do something new, whether it’s what he wants to do, or if it’s just being forced on him –– of course, the former is his preference. He loves to live wild and free, sneaking into parties when he can, longboarding around the town with his friends, doing graffiti and other petty crimes. Like most people who share his struggle with illnesses he doesn’t feel bitter about his lot in life. However, that isn’t to say he isn’t a sweet little angel whose kind and suffers quietly. He doesn’t really care what people say; he’s never one to take things to heart, though, living life day by day with hardly a care in the world. Or, rather, with as little care as he can survive with.

Some thing most people don’t see besides his classmates is that, while most people see a sad, suffering little boy, his peers know to be something of a fuckboy. He only talks to girls on Snapchat, and acts like iMessage doesn’t exist. He wears soccer socks with adidas slides way beyond the soccer season. He has the classic fuckboy haircut. Okay, so he kinda respects women as much as any fifteen year old boy can, and he’s not seriously asking girls to bang, but he does talk shit about his mother, and he will like a girl’s instagram but won’t text her back, so he can’t help but give off the fuckboy vibes. In reality, he’s just trying hard to be a normal kid and live a normal live, since he doesn’t know how long he’s really got, and doesn’t want to spend his time isolated because of it.

History:

William Harris was born to Sloane Harris and a Mexican immigrant named Javier Silva on July 3rd. All was well in his life, playing around with the other kids at preschool, loving sports like soccer and lacrosse, until he started feeling sick around five years old he was diagnosed with lung cancer. The arguments between his parents that the diagnosis resulted in caused a rift between Sloane and Javier, as Sloane believed that, despite her family history of the disease, her son’s lung cancer was caused by Javier’s chain-smoking. As the fighting got worse and worse between his two parents, little Billy, as his mother called him, kept getting sicker and sicker. As he was getting sick, his father was kicked out of the home, and went to work on a ranch in New Mexico. William was upset by this, after all the years he has spent with his dad sitting on his lap watching movies and sports, and started to go by the name his father wanted for him, his grandfather’s name — Carlos. 

He was treated with chemotherapy when he was five, spending most of his kindergarten year in the hospital. Luckily for him, he was able to keep up with the learning by having his mother speak closely with the school and ensure his education while he was being treated for his lung cancer. He learned his shapes, colors, letters and numbers, and was able to remotely pass kindergarten and spend the summer recovering. He returned to the second grade a new kid, asserting himself as an important part of the classroom and getting closer with the kids in his year. This wasn’t all without complications, however –– he still went in for a lung transplant at some point in the fifth grade, something the doctors suggested if he was ever planning to play sports. It was back to the hospital for a bit, when they found more cancer cells growing in his body. They caught it early, though, and treated it quickly, so he was back to school in no time. 

In middle school, his resentment towards his mother for forcing his father out returned onto the board again in a greater magnitude than before, fueled by those new teenage emotions, prompting him to write to Javier to try to build a relationship with him. Soon enough he was being driven two hours south to see his father on long weekends, vacations, and other parts of the year, which his mother, who wanted to make him happy, wasn’t particularly happy about –– even if research showed that his father’s second hand smoke didn’t led to his childhood cancer, but instead it was a prominent family history of cancer on her side of the family, (which Carlos pointed out must’ve been the case after shoving all that secondhand smoke research into her face.) He was back with his parents again, and despite the tension that persisted from the awkward arrangements and meetings, he was going into high school ready for anything. 

Carlos was even prepared when he was diagnosed with chronic lymphocytic leukemia at the end of his freshman year. After knowing his family history, as well as receiving chemo as much as he had, he wasn’t surprised. His doctors and family knew that this was bound to happen, and they were happy to have found it in it’s early-stage, meaning he wouldn’t have to worry about treatment nor the risks of it until it got to the point where treatment became necessary and helpful. He was thankful that this time he didn’t have to be the sick kid who was always out of school, who was always leaving class to throw up, who couldn’t play sports or climb the rope at gym class. The only complication he had to really worry about for now was a lowered immune system, but that wouldn’t stand in his way –– he didn’t care what he shouldn’t have been doing. He’d still eat gross things for dares, kiss strangers (if they’d let him,) and was obsessed with doing whatever the other boys his age did, and even taking it above and beyond. Even with his illness, he was able to focus on being himself and being a kid, and he wasn’t worried about how long he had left until his illness got more aggressive –– he learned to live in the now. So he did.

Sample paragraph: 

Soccer practices were always a little much for the tired boy, but none other had compared to this one. He knew it was the first practice of the year and he wanted to make an impression on the coach, saying that he was capable of playing hard. Unfortunately, he was harboring a massive headache and it only got worsened by the noises that surrounded the teen on the field. The sharp sounds of whistles being blown and the shouts of the cheerleading team practicing hurt like hell. The cheerleaders weren’t even supposed to be on the field this afternoon, but due to some poor scheduling, the soccer team had to split half the field with them –– because god forbid the football team have to split their field instead. That, of course, was a ton of distraction for the boys on the football team, and it only made the practice seem longer and earned the team some running laps. 

“Alright team, ten minutes of running around the field! And I don’t want to see any wimpy running, I wanna see Forrest Gump, not Tommy Boy!” The team groaned, and Carlos went to his bag, removing his socks, shinguards, and shirt. Though he didn’t really have anything to show off there like the rest of the boys did, he wanted to beat the heat, and didn’t care if he made people look at his thin, pale arms because of it. Popping a few Tylenols for his headache, among other aches and pains, Carlos threw his bag back to the bench and started running to catch up with his team. Ten minutes of running with complaining teammates, some guys faking tying their shoes so they didn’t have to run, and a lot of sweat was probably the worst part of that practice, but soon after they were able to leave for the locker rooms. The surrounding sweaty and stinky boys became invisible to him once he stepped into the shower, turning it on and letting the icy cold water pour over him. That certainly eased him.

Headcanons: 

rly likes post malone

hates the whole “wow, he’s a miracle”, “he’s so brave”, or any other well-intentioned bullshit comments regarding his ‘ongoing battle’, or whatever. he isn’t here for some pity party where people make themselves feel good for cherishing the sick kid.

got one ear pierced because he thought it was cool. two days later he thought it looked stupid and now he doesn’t wear an earring at all.

brings his longboard to school and tries to ride it in the halls sometimes. also wears a thrasher hoodie. (yes, the two are connected.)

highkey thinks neymar jr is jesus. is rly into soccer.

once tried to go cow tipping but then he sneezed too loud and the cow  woke up and walked away

still dabs in 2018. like the dance move, not drugs

but he also smokes weed

Anything else: fc is ricky garcia

sry my writing is bad and also kill me

[rebaenrose]

Tim has COVID-19

This was my husband’s first post about finding out he had covid. He posts on Facebook but said I can share here.

I Have COVID-19If all intentions prove fruitful, I plan to document this journey, even if in tiny snapshots.  And we certainly hope the journey is as short and as sweet as possible.The idea being that we have all lived this nightmare for well over a year, yet for some of us it is still this strange thing that "other" people get.  It is even somewhat common in human nature to hear tales and say to oneself "well, they must have been careless."

Another reason to document this is that, while most of us try to keep up on the news, the stories of symptoms, statistics, probabilities and mortality rates are mind-boggling and confusing.   Perhaps a story from a friend can help bring it home.There is no doubt that, especially with this disease, every story is different.  Thankfully, thus far my story is insignificant.   If it stays that way, so much the better.  If not, perhaps it can serve as a cautionary tale to the reader.In some ways it started last Sunday (Feb 21).  

On that day Erol hosted a Zoom call with fellow NYU Acting school grads.  I graduated in 1982 and have not seen these people in all that time.  38 years.  NYU was the most significant series of events in my life, other than getting married.  And because my acting career is non-existent in comparison to my fellow alumni, it was a very emotional meeting for me.In fact, I think I was still emotionally impacted by the meeting on Monday afternoon, when I started feeling weaker than usual and the aches in my body a bit more severe.  Also, concentration was poor, which for me is the most alarming of all.   I have been burning my candle at both ends now for many months on end.  

As a computer contractor, work is feast or famine and, for some crazy reason, during COVID it has been a feast… and I’ve been taking advantage of it.Naturally, however, in this time of COVID, when you feel more than usually fatigued or sore, there is cause for concern.  And the brain fog is really worrisome.

Tuesday I worked from home and by mid-day the aches were accompanied by chills, major fatigue and some minor coughing, continued brain fog.  By Tuesday night we determined that I had temperatures in the high 98s, low 99s.  I guess you call that a mild temperature. Tuesday night the fever broke.  I slept in, which for me means 7AM.  I felt much better and even the brain fog seemed to lift.  In this disorienting world of COVID, I think general confusion and anxiety can often be confused with brain fog.  Who’s to say?Because I’d been sick, I worked the rest of the week from home.  

Rebecca and I discussed regularly the possibility that it had been COVID.  Because Rebecca has fibromyalgia, it was super important that we find out as soon as possible.   We scheduled a test for 7AM on Wednesday.Still felt fine most of the day Wednesday.  Periodic coughing.  No chest tightness, no fever, no shortness of breath, taste and smell just fine.  Rebecca was pretty much fine as well, except for the usual aches and pains of fibromyalgia.  

I will take a pause here to mention that I am not the CrossFit guy from FaceBook 3 years ago.  In our first year in Utah, I did bicycle to and from work every day and take the stairs up and down 6 flights several times a day.  I also had access to the Capitol gym, which I used a few times a week.  But no other regular exercise routine.  In our 2nd year, I no longer have access to the stairs or gym and I had two bicycle accidents.  With the onset of the winter, I began taking the car in.   I look forward to returning to the bicycle, but for now my life is pretty sedentary. 

But unfortunately there is more.  At the outbreak of the pandemic, I was an ex-smoker.  For some inexplicable, stupid, non-thinking reason I picked up smoking again.  That’s right, smart computer programmer Tim picked up smoking at a time when full lung capacity and function are more crucial than at any other time in recent history.   I have no excuse.We did not get results back until Thursday.   

Positive for me and Negative for Rebecca.  WTF!!!???We immediately scheduled another test.  In fact, we opted for the “gold standard” swab (which would take a few days), as well as the rapid result test.  Within an hour we learned, once again, that I was positive and Rebecca Negative.  By mid-day Friday I got my gold standard test back, confirming for the 3rd time that I was positive.  Friday we began quarantine in earnest.  A call from a friendly county official confirmed that for any day in which we are closer than 6 feet for more than 15 minutes CUMULATIVE, we have to set the quarantine back another 10-14 days.  

Of course, we presume that by now Rebecca must be infected.  But who knows? Maybe not.  We tried to begin living as separately as possible. I took the living room, but there is no door.  And of course we share the bathroom and kitchen regularly.  A seemingly impossible situation.Meanwhile, neither of our health conditions changed, though Rebecca had a headache for a few days running.We are very lucky in that we have a rental unit in the basement.  And especially lucky that our current renter was vacating on Monday, so one of us could move down there.  

And super extraordinarily lucky that our tenant decided to move out 2 days early!!!!So yesterday, Sunday, I have moved to the basement and we are truly separate now.  And that is sad, but I guess necessary.Sunday night I began having some congestion again and some sneezing.   Today, Monday, I woke up feeling better.  I’d call it an extremely mild cold at this point.So, how did this happen?  Rebecca and I have been “good” since nearly the beginning of the pandemic.  Or at least when most people starting getting on board with social distancing and masking.  Granted, in the beginning the masks were home-made and flimsy.   

Rebecca and I have had disagreements about the degree to which to adhere to safety precautions.  Basically, any new guideline that came out, Rebecca was on it:  infrared cleaners, double-masking, N-95, whatever came along.  My philosophy was looser, which may account for my infection.   I also had more exposure:  I went to work 3-4 times per week.   I have an office all to myself and I keep the door closed.  While in the office, I don’t wear a mask.  But WHENEVER I leave the office, I wear a mask.  Admittedly not often two masks.  I do have a supply of masks at work that I change every few days.  

Did I ever “forget” and venture into the halls without a mask?  Yes. Not often. Probably 5-8 times over the course of the entire year, and not at all in the past 2 weeks that I can remember.  Did we go out into public?  Yes, visits to Home Depot, Costco, our local grocery store (and a few other specialty stores), WalMart (which we always found to be the scariest and we would get the hell out of there as fast as possible) and the local 7-11.  Always wearing masks and always staying 6 feet from people if at all possible.Was I ever in a social situation where I took my mask off, maybe to eat and maybe to converse a bit. 

Again, yes, a few times over the course of the past year.   Did we ever go to restaurants?  In the beginning, we took a few more risks and that has tapered off to not going at all.  I’d say that during the pandemic we may have been in 4-9 restaurants.  I can think of Dee’s (a local diner), the Other Place (not sure if we actually dined there), a bar in Sundance, Utah.  One particular restaurant visit was on February 4th, 20 days before my symptoms appeared.  I was given a free dinner at Ruth Chris’ Steak house in exchange for listening to a retirement spiel.  I wore my mask, kept my distance, was seated alone at my own table several feet from others, and the entire event involved only about 10-12 people.  But of course all you need is one.  Deliveries?   Yes, plenty.  Drive-throughs?  Probably more than we should:  we may have picked up food in a drive-through between 15-30 times over the pandemic.Did I ever get closer than 6 feet to people in stores?   Yes of course, it’s hard to avoid.

One disagreement Rebecca and I had was in regards to the outdoors. I was of the opinion that if you’re further than 6 feet from people out in the open, it’s perfectly okay to have your mask off.  If you see someone coming, slip it on.   While she sort of agreed with that in spirit, she still wore her mask all the time and also noted that I did not ALWAYS “slip it on” when we passed people. This is true – I took the risk that passing someone briefly in the open air was probably low risk, especially if I hold my breath before I pass them and don’t inhale again for several feet afterwards.A final note regarding symptoms:  several weeks ago, a few of my toes started getting sore.  Swollen and itchy.   Rebecca suspected athlete’s foot, so we got some medication.  However, the medication did not really seem to help much.  After Googling “COVID toes”, I see that my toes probably fit into that category. This is not an official diagnosis, nor does it make much sense, unless I’ve had COVID for a very long time (several weeks).  

If I’ve had it that long and Rebecca is still negative, she is truly WONDER WOMAN! Rebecca is getting another test today, Monday. Today, Monday, I now have a very slight cold, I’m still having a bit of trouble focusing, and the two toes are still slightly swollen, although it has subsided somewhat. I should also mention that they feel a bit numb.  They no longer itch, but feel numb.  Perhaps that is the result of the hydrocortisone I applied.

But how am I FEELING? IE, not my symptoms, but my emotions?  I would say that generally I am more worried that afraid. And I generally put those worries in the back of my mind and focus on all the things I need to do.  Emotions are powerful parts of our existence, but I am one of those people for whom emotions are generally in the background and often unrecognizable at first.  I think it took me nearly 4 years to finally start grieving my father’s death. When a volcano threatened our house on the Big Island, I was genuinely excited about keeping up on the news – again, I did not really feel grief over that event for nearly a year.  In some ways I guess my psychological makeup is a good thing – I mean, don’t the gurus of philosophy teach us to try and live in the present and not the past or future?   I have the knowledge that I have COVID and I have the knowledge of how to care for myself in the meantime (including not smoking!!!!), but for now I have few symptoms.  It would do me very little good to live in fear; might even be detrimental.   Of course, emotions are not spigots that we can willfully turn on or off.  It just happens to be that I am that kind of person.  I would venture to guess that if this were to develop into full-fledged COVID, however, I will be terrified. I had asthma as a child and I do know what it’s like to not be able to breathe.  It is terrifying.And now you are up to date.We will keep FaceBook posted.

[landcruising]

In memory of Jonghae I was giving up. I didn’t want to do this anymore. My clothes were soaked with sweat, my legs and arms covered in scratches from overgrowth taller than I was. For hours I had been wrestling my way through thick vegetation that didn’t allow me to see anything around me, not even my partner Coen, who was walking only a couple of meters in front of me.

I felt the exhaustion wearing me out and the sense of insecurity that I had kept at bay for so many days recurring in full force.

“See! You are too weak, you can’t do this! What made you think you could hike 465 miles in the mountains? Much shorter hikes in Pakistan’s Himalayas and Patagonia’s Andes did you in. Don’t you know by now your body is not up to this?”

Hiking the Baekdu-daegan Mountain Ridge

I had been set on hiking the 465-mile Baekdu Daegan Mountain Ridge in South Korea the moment I read about it. I was enticed by images of vast mountain regions covered in forests and home to colorful Buddhist temples, mountain shrines, landmarks from ancient civilizations and monuments honoring the Korean War. Coen had expressed his doubts.

“Will you be able to manage this?”

I was suffering from a constantly recurring anaemia as well as endometriosis. The latter causes, among other things, sudden cramps that make me stop in my tracks while trying to keep breathing, and a constant sense of feeling tired or exhausted.

However, I had wanted to do this hike and convinced Coen to give it a try. Now I was giving up and a feeling of defeat was crushing me. When vegetation made way for forest we sat down in the shade, ate a handful of nuts and discussed our options. I wanted to quit. Coen wanted to continue. I suggested to stop for now and return in a couple of weeks, when the heat wave would be over. Since the temperatures were getting to Coen as well, a period of rest sounded reasonable.

Meeting Jonghae

Frankly, I had little confidence that I was going to be up to the rest of the hike but didn’t express those doubts. I didn’t have to take that decision now. We hiked down the mountains and hitchhiked back to where our car was parked. We visited a public bath for a major body scrub, took a rest, and made our way north to Seoul to see some friends.

On the way we stopped at the entrance of Odaesan National Park to visit its famous Woljeongsa Temple. Next to us in the parking lot was another car. A man stepped out and introduced himself. Jonghae was smitten with our road journey of more than twelve years in Asia and South America and invited us to lunch.

“You have to eat mountain vegetables here. I know the best place in the area. But first I have to walk. I walk every day.”

We learned he had an advanced stage of cancer and regularly underwent chemotherapy. He had gained weight, his shoulder-length hair was very thin, and he had trouble finding the right words in English – all results of the treatment, he explained.

Jonghae’s Travels

As we squatted around a low table in a restaurant and savored a mountain-vegetable jeonshik – a type of set-meal with a bowl of rice and all kinds of tiny dishes of vegetables, tofu, mushrooms that will be topped up as often as you like – he shared his passion for hiking and traveling. Despite his illness he had traveled the Karakorum Highway in Pakistan the previous year and he wanted to drive the Pan-American Highway from Canada down to Argentina.

“But that will be too much now,” he sighed. “Maybe I will return to Pakistan instead and visit Skardu instead.”

We told him about our attempt to hike the Baekdu Daegan and I expressed my doubts, about the heat and the exhaustion. He, on the other hand, immediately became enthusiastic.

“Oh yes, you have to hike the entire stretch. Of course you can do it. You will love it and meet great people.”

He had hiked the ‘White Mountain Ridge Trail’, as Baekdu Daegan translates, three times. Even now, sick as he was, he hiked every day.

“It is what keeps me alive,” he commented.

The doctors confirmed this was most likely helping him to fight his cancer and deal with chemotherapy.

Jonghae and the Baekdu Daegan

But Jonghae’s ambitions had gone beyond his own hiking adventures. He wants city kids to connect with nature and get to know their own country. In 2005 he set up a program at the Middle School where he worked in Seoul. Children around fourteen years old, plus their parents or siblings if they want, hike the trail two days a month, so it takes them one and a half years to complete the Baekdu Daegan.

Jonghae’s enthusiasm stirred a new energy in me too. Maybe I needed more willpower? Maybe I expected to fail and gave up too quickly? And if 14-year-olds could do this, shouldn’t I be able to do it? I felt the fire returning in me. Maybe if we walked the trail in shorter sections, took more breaks… I started making new plans already.

Back on the Trail

Five weeks later, with the intense summer heat gone, we were back on the trail. It was an experience never to be forgotten. Oh yes, I struggled and cried and yelled I was going to throw the towel in once more. But then I would think of Jonghae and the kids and push on.

Magic – You just feel it when around Korea’s intriguing, ancient yew trees.

Magic – Because you’re on the top of the world!

View from Haneul-jae (3rd gate).

A sansin-gak; a shrine for the Mountain Spirit.

A moment of magic indeed.

Magic – When you have reached the top of a mountain.

For a large part I loved the rhythm of hiking, and felt deeply privileged and blessed to be doing this. During weekends South Koreans are out in the mountains in large numbers and we met many. They have a culture of sharing: a candy, an egg, a sip of soju and sometimes we would sit together for a short break or a meal.

People who live along the trail invited us to stay at their place, offered a meal or stuffed our backpacks with cucumbers, bell peppers or apples – whatever happened to be harvested. These were all moments to feel invigorated again, to bring a smile to a body that was hurting, to have confidence again, to feel a sense of kindred spirits.

I felt a deep appreciation for Korean culture and people and we learned much from their generosity, hospitality, smiles and willingness to help. In fact, hiking the Baekdu Daegan is a perfect introduction to South Korea’s culture.

It took us forty-seven days of hiking to reach the finish. To arrive at that last stele with ‘Baekdu Daegan’ depicted in Korean characters, of which there are dozens along the trail, was a bit of an anticlimax. Suddenly the hike was over.

The Finish?

Or so we thought. That evening we received a message.

“Are you still in Sokcho? Don’t leave! I will meet you there tomorrow. The kids are completing the 11th Baekdu-daegan hike. It would be great to see you both again. I will meet you there because I first have to go for my morning hike. Jonghae.”

He had given up his presidency of the organization a few years earlier because he got cancer but he was staying involved as much as possible. For the first time in three years he was able to hike a section of the final day.

We applauded the kids as they stepped out of the forest onto the pavement, and walked the last meters to the monument that signifies the end of the Baekdu Daegan in South Korea (the trail continues into North Korea but is off-limits). Jonghae took pictures of them all.

A group of 45 students and 45 family members had completed the hike, the youngest being 10 and the oldest 75. As the group offered food and water to the mountain spirits we joined them in prayer to thank the mountain spirits for a safe return. Contrary to our finish the day before, this ceremony felt like a fitting closure of our adventure and I was thankful to Jonghae for making us part of the experience.

Before his ‘breath was to become air,’ as Jonghae to eloquently phrased his dying, we visited him in the hospice near Seoul Optimistic as ever he chatted about having plans to return to Pakistan and China, albeit in a wheelchair because the cancer had paralyzed him. His joy for life and his faith in being able to travel again was so intense that his passing two weeks later, September 26, caught us off guard.

We will miss him.

Of course you can hike a 465-mile mountain trail! In memory of Jonghae I was giving up. I didn’t want to do this anymore. My clothes were soaked with sweat, my legs and arms covered in scratches from overgrowth taller than I was.

[changingthedefinition]

2 years ago today katie ended up on life support, in 3 days time the machines keeping her alive would be switched off and it STILL doesn't feel real! When I first met katie, I was on sertraline and therefore completely psychotic. I was on and off 1:1 observations like a yo yo and fed up with the whole world. I had many screaming matches with the doctors and ward manager about the fact they kept putting me on/ wouldn't take me off observations when katie was doing similar things and allowed to get away with it. I even accidentally snapped at katie over it- not because I was annoyed with her, but because the staffs logic made no sense. They told me that the circumstances were different, because I had suicidal intent, to which I screamed back 'but the end result could still be the same'. Katie and I grew close very fast. We spent most days doing jigsaws, painting nails, watching frozen (poor Mike spent most visiting times getting dragged into our frozen ritual) making dens and putting the world to rights. There was a connection and I don't often feel a connection to anyone. Katie had struggled for years and had a lot of built up anger, but only recently had she started receiving any professional input. Of cause, been on a ward, the input was minimum, so I ended up listening to her, challenging her, encouraging her to find new ways to communicate opposed to resorting to ligaturing as a way to get 1:1 chats with staff! The amount of times I could tell she was about to do something so would give staff the nod to go after her was ridiculous. But regardless I loved her! We had some conversations full of hope. She had dreams and hopes and a love for life. She had traveled the world climbing with Mike. She wanted to go back to uni and she wanted more than anything to be a mum, and this was what caused her 'breakdown' for lack of a better word, before admission! Through my questioning, we quickly got to the point where she understood a few things better. She stopped saying she wanted to die and instead realised and started saying she just wanted the pain to stop and to live a better life. She wanted to stop suffering and instead be katie! When I was having horrible days, she would post letters under my door for me, which I still have stuck to my bedroom wall. We would build dens to hide in to few safe. Once I won my tribunal we would go for coffee, go to the climbing centre and even walk to the supermarket which is opposite the cemetery she is now buried in. We laughed and we hugged and we cried and we danced. One weekend my friend was physically poorly so for a couple of days she got my side room and I moved into her bed opposite Katie's bed. Katie was on leave and the staff came to do the Saturday bed changes. They found some ligatures under her pillow and had a conversation which resulted in them just leaving them there. Katie also had epilepsy, yet when she had a seizure they told her she was making it up as they hadn't seen it. But because of this she had both prn lorazepam and diazepam. Katie had a history of using drugs to escape her feelings, and quickly she worked out that she could take both despite diazepam been prescribed for seizures. The staff been the staff and wanting an easy shift just kept giving her both though out the day, every day! By the time she died she was so hooked on benzos that she couldn't even remember her parents visiting her, even though they had moved up from London to be closer. In my opinion, even if the only happening was the use of benzos, the staff were still neglectful to let it carry on so long and get so bad. Then there was the whole situation with the HCA. I probably don't need to say anything else to explain that one. Except as katie was a mental health patient and the HCA was a member of staff, katie was made out to be lying. After the first incident, the ward manager decided that the HCA wasn't allowed to do checks in the female end of the ward, however due to confidentiality, this wasn't shared with the rest of the staff so it was never enforced. As a result things kept happening, until one day katie flipped and smashed up everything in her way. Even then she was made out to be lying. The HCA was never punished because katie was a mental health patient. On the 1st July katie phoned me, she had overdosed, was drunk and was working along a viaduct. She told me not to tell anyone, but I knew what she really meant. I managed to find out more details and after an hour I convinced her to phone the ward to explain. She didn't know I was messaging Mike and bex all along. I wasn't sure if she really would phone the ward so I phoned crisis team- I didn't have the wards number and since crisis team spend half their time on the ward I thought they might just connect me and I didn't want to waste time googling the number.... I phoned and crisis team hung up on me. Luckily situations like this don't panic me and I was ok, but it could have been a different story, they just weren't interested though. So I googled the ward and phoned them up. The staff nurse who answered the phone was one of the more tolerable ones and he thanked me and hung up. Once Mike got to katie, she was taken for treatment of her overdose. In the 3rd she returned to psych and was sent on home leave straight away despite openly voicing her thoughts. Generally katie did much better at home, but on Saturday morning Mike took her back to the ward. He wanted her to be safe and he didn't know how to ensure that. They sat and had a conversation with the nurse and it was agreed katie wouldn't be let off the ward alone and would be on 5 minute checks. 2 hours after returning to the ward, Mike received a phone call to say katie was in ICU on life support and due to the swelling in her brain probably wouldn't wake up! In those two hours a friend was getting admitted. As she entered the ward, katie ran up to her and begged her to get them to help her. She pleaded for her life. And yet, when she was on ICU the locality manager took great satisfaction in saying 'but we had let her of the ward two times before the incident'. I went to see katie the night of the 5th and stayed until 4 am and again on the 6th. I was the one who held it together. Who offered support. Who told nice stories and wiped away her family's tears. Until I left on the 6th. Her life support was to be turned off on the morning of the 7th so it was time to say goodbye. I kissed her forehead and hand and told her everything I had told her many times before. And then I sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. Katie didn't want to die. She wanted someone to believe her. She wanted help! The HCA was moved to an outpatient post 🤦‍♀️ and at the coroners hearing the ward psychologist who told us all regularly 'the ward isn't a safe environment and therefore you can not have psychology in the ward' told stories of how she had started doing x y and z with katie and how katie attended groups- which in the 4 years I spent on the ward never once saw running! It was concluded that all the care katie had received was sufficient and appropriate and the ward could not have done anything differently. Yes, katie chose to do what she did, but she didn't want to die. She wanted to be heard. She wanted to be helped. She wanted the pain to stop, pain that was only made worse by her time in services. Here I have highlighted a couple of stories which spring to mind, but in reality, there was multiple tales of neglect every single day!! But as happened when cactus come in, the staff stuck together and collaborated their stories. They manipulated the truth and ultimately got away with what in other circumstances would be murder/manslaughter. And by doing so, no only have they hindered them selves, they have put other vulnerable people at risk. Katie's death came a year after I broke my back, where I was sent on leave because they knew I was going to do something and it would be less paperwork if I did it off the ward..... when I broke my back, my parents wanted to complain, instead the MDT put in a safeguarding against my parents and pushed the blame on to them (it was my choice but I was also very unwell at the time and sectioned) they scared my parents out of complaining and as a result in the 12 months that followed another patient broke their back and katie lost her life!!! I can share this because both the first and the independent investigation have been to coroners court. And I can also share because katie deserves so much better. She was a human made to feel like an 'worthless' animal. She didn't have to die, she didn't even want to die, yet she did die. I miss her. But her death gave me drive to fight for the system to change, because Katie's story isn't just Katie's, but one that is happening far too often through out the mental health system in the U.K.! Since 2000 the number of psychiatrist beds in the U.K. has halved, whilst the number of people needing support from mental health services is constantly increasing. Not all, but many professionals still have the attitude that they are better than the patient and abuse their power in a way which causes harm to many. Yet because they are professionals, they are able to uses all the behaviours they tell their patients off for using- they lie, manipulate, emotionally abuse..... it's not ok. If someone had a physical health condition, professionals wouldn't be allowed to get away with this (I know examples from my mums ward where professionals has been reported the the NMC for causing no harm to any one and for things as simple as forgetting to do one blood sugar) so why is it that mental health patients, arguable among the most vulnerable, are allowed to be treated this way?

[cripthevoteuk-blog]

Disabled in Theresa May’s Britain #4: Stewart

From Shropshire In July of last year I injured my back at work and have been unable to work since because of it. After weeks of messing around going to the doctors, seeing a physiotherapist and taking a cocktail of pills, I was firstly put on crutches, as I can't put full pressure on my left foot, and sent for an MRI scan. This showed I'd got 3 prolapsed discs in my lower back which explained why I was my getting the pain in my back but also my leg and hip. My back has gone into a kind of cycle where it will be a mild type of pain but every 2 or 3 days it will feels like it just drops and then the pain is horrific. I am a 44 year old single male who lives on his own, in a ground floor flat, thankfully, so as you can probably imagine doing normal everyday activities is really difficult. Washing and bathing I struggle with as can't stand at the sink but rather sit on the side of the bath or on the toilet seat and I find it difficult to get into the bath but then really really struggle to get back out of it again ,I do not have a shower and can only wash my hair and shave when I am in the bath, as being in the warm water relaxes my back enough to be able to do this (what I gain in the bath though I lose getting out). I am unable to drive as I can't put enough pressure on the clutch because of the pain I get not only in my back but also my left leg and hip, but also because of the medication I am on makes me feel drowsy, I can only travel short distances as a passenger in a car (and even less on a bus) because the constant rocking during acceleration or breaking hurts my back. I can just about get away with cooking myself a meal but when my back goes I can't do this so am surviving on bowls of cereal. Doing any type of housework is virtually impossible on a good day and totally impossible when my backs gone, I can only do the very basics anyway and my mother has to do the rest for me. I have also not been able to clear my yard and little bit of garden I have so it is covered in weeds and overgrown. My mother also has to take me anywhere I have to go, i.e. appointments or shopping, and the only reason I go out shopping with her is it's some form of face-to-face human contact as I am virtually house bound at the moment and relying on just Facebook for daily contact. The problem with that is I sometimes aggravate my back then I can't get to sleep because I can't get comfortable in bed because of the amount of pain I am in. Even saying that though sometimes my back has been that bad I've had to ask her to go for me and I've stayed home. I also have two cats, that were former strays so now won't go out cause they've got somewhere warm, dry, and they get fed regularly (well sort of at the moment) don't want to go out again and panic when I've put them in the harness and taken them outside because they think I'm kicking them out, so changing there tray is really difficult and sometimes impossible to do at all,, so they end up using the paper by the side of it and once again sometimes I've had to ask my mum if she'll come over just to do there tray.           For the first 28 weeks I was off I was getting SSP, but my employers were topping this up so I was still getting my full wage but this run out on the 19th of January this year. I then had to go onto ESA and was told I'd have to attend a medical assessment. Firstly instead of starting my claim on the 20th of January they started it on the 21st, which they then realized was a Saturday so I was then sent another letter saying my claim would now be taken from the 23rd, this was even though my employers had given me the SSP1 form they need to process a claim which clearly stated that my SSP ran out on the 19th. I then received a phone call last thing in the afternoon of the 22nd of February asking if I could attend my assessment the next morning. I said yes but was taking a gamble that my mother wouldn't be busy as I'd need her to take me but I also wanted her in there with me as a witness, luckily she was available. I arrived for my assessment after having only 3 hours sleep the night before and feeling drowsy because I'd only taken my medication an hour before. While being in the waiting room I had to go and sit on my own in the only arm chair as I couldn't sit comfortably on the other chairs next to my mum. The assessor called us in and I explained all the things I am going through and how much I am struggling, I also explained that I can only cover short distances before having to rest, this I estimated to be between 20 to 25 meters. During this time I had to get up and start moving around as my back started to hurt as I couldn't sit comfortably in the chairs we were in. My mother assisted me getting out of the chair by offering me her forearm and lifting her arm at the same time I used my crutch on my other side to be able to stand up. As I was hobbling round my mum was talking to the assessor and filling her in on my condition.The assessor then told me to get up onto the couch which I tried to do but couldn't 3 times facing forward so she told me to turn around and try doing it backwards, which I eventually managed to do on the 2nd attempt. She then asked me to try and get into certain positions which I managed to do pretty easy with my right leg but struggled with my left, I'm not the type of person to shout out or scream the place down but was grimacing and biting my lip while doing them, a fact that can be confirmed by my mother. She then did a test where she held both arms in the air and told me to push against her hand, to see how much pressure I can put through my legs, the only thing is she didn't offer any resistance so I was able to do it pretty easily. I even said this to my mum when we got back outside and even she said she was surprised at easy I found it. I have since checked with two different doctors I've seen and a physio I spoke to on the phone and they all confirmed that you are supposed to put a little resistance when getting somebody to do this, the one doctor even got me up on the couch and got me to try and I couldn't do it. The first sick note that I had to send to the benefits agency in January they told me to take into my local Job Centre, as they needed it to finalize my claim and the Job Centre would be able to scan it straight across, but all the other ones I would be picking up after that to post them in. Then in February I received a letter, with a free post label, saying that my sick note was about to run out so I needed to send them a new one. I already had an appointment booked at the doctors a couple of days before this was due to run out so collected one and sent it off before the date my last one had run out. I then received another letter on the 2nd of March saying they hadn't received one and my claim would be closed down if I didn't send one immediately. I phoned them up straight away and explained that I'd sent one in and was then told that they probably hadn't got to it in the mail yet but she'd have a look on the system, I was then told to my utter shock that my claim had been closed down because I'd been deemed fit for work and the letter explaining their decision must be on its way. I then received their letter the next day, 3rd March, dated the 28th February and this indeed confirmed that my claim had been closed down but from the 23rd of February and I would now have to swap over to JSA, look for work, (even though I have a job already, I’m just going through the medical procedures so I can get back to it), I would also have to attend the job centre and sign on. I sat there and read through their report on my assessment in total disbelief as they have totally contradicted me, with what I said in the assessment and what I put on the form I had to fill out in, they have even had the cheek to contradict everything my mother told them. They have exaggerated the distance it took me to get into the assessment room and have doubled the distance I can cover before coming to a rest. They have then go on to say that I have no problems doing all my housework, cooking a meal every day and being able to wash and shave and have a bath any time I want. They have also doubled the amount of times I told them I go to my local shop and the amount of times I go shopping with my mother, as I told them that I go once a week and once a fortnight respectively and they have put I go to my local shop twice a week and shopping with my mother once a week.They have also doubled the distance it is from my flat to the shop as I said it's about 20 to 25 meters away and they have put 50 meters. Even covering that distance I have to rest on the way there and on the way back, another fact they've failed to mention. I was thinking up till this point that maybe I'd not come over very well because as I said before I'd had hardly any sleep and was high as a kite on pain killers so they'd got confused by what I was saying. My confusion then turned to anger when I read the medical assessment part cause what they'd put there made me look like an Olympic athlete. They'd put that firstly I had no problem being able to stand up unaided, (even though as I said before my mother had helped me), I had no problem being able to get onto the couch what so ever and without assistance, (once again nothing about me not being able to get onto it at all facing forward and taking two attempts to do it backwards, also failed to mention the fact she'd had to tell me to turn around which under the eyes of the law is considered to be verbal assistance). Then they have put that out of all the exercises she got me to do I only struggled with one (nothing about me grimacing and biting my lip, that my mother could see me doing from the other side of the room,, makes you wonder how come the assessor couldn't see it stood next to me). Also they have put I had no problem with the leg pressure test (as I said she didn't carry this out properly). The best thing is they have even contradicted themselves in their conclusions because they have put that I have no problems with covering 200 meters before resting (when they have put I can do 50 meters but I said I could only do about 20 before having to come to a stop). I'd already asked my mum to pick up some shopping for me, as my back was really playing up, so showed it to her when she got here and without having to say a word to her she was saying "well that's not what you told them, or that, or that" all the way through and when she got to medical report she just said "...", I better not put what she said as it wouldn't be printable. I am now getting JSA and having to go into the Job Centre to sign on fortnightly, to be fair my adviser has been nothing but sympathetic as she can understand what I am going through as she told us, yes my mum has to come with me, that she did the same a few years ago. They left me for 3 weeks before being paid anything and then when they did pay me I only received 5 days JSA. I then phoned them and played Chinese whispers going through the call center, cause you can't speak to anybody from the benefits agency directly, I explained the situation to them and he said he'd have to speak to the benefits agency about it so I asked him to phone me back. He then called me and said that I would have to fill in a form to be able to get the rest of the payment I was old. I then received a text message 10 minutes after the call center closed saying that they'd received my "new" claim and would be sending me out the paper work. It wasn't a new claim all I wanted was what they owed me. The great thing about this is it was my birthday, not that I was planning on doing anything but could have nicely done without the stress. My adviser had told me if I had any problems with my first payment to give her a call so the next day I did. Fair play to her she must have put the phone down on me and rang them straight away cause she was back on my phone 10 minutes later saying they were going to call me in a couple of hours. They then called me to say that they had sorted it but I would have to wait a few more days for it to go into my bank. The same day that it finally went in I received a letter, dated on my birthday, explaining why I was only getting the 5 days because I hadn't met the job seekers requirements, like to know how I was supposed to meet em when I didn't even know at that point I was supposed to be looking for work. My adviser can't even tell me what type of work to try looking for. My employers also have asked for a report from my doctors to see if there is any other type of work they can offer me but have come to the conclusion that there is nothing they can offer me, even working in the office because I'm unable to sit long enough in one place to be able to complete a task. It's now 10:06 am and I started writing this at 3 am after repeatedly trying to get to sleep last night and being unable to, and now having to repeatedly get up and move around as I can't sit still long enough to type it all in one go. I have now started the process of appealing but have been told that I need to go through a mandatory reconsideration first. I have had to go to my doctors to try and get my medical records but have been told not to pursue this as I'd have to pay for them when the DWP will apply for them free of charge when the appeals process starts, seems to be the wrong way round to me as how can they make a proper decision about my health and well being without even looking at my records. I have so far seen numerous GPs and a consultant at the hospital who referred me onto the pain clinic. I saw a specialist form the pain clinic for a consultation at my local hospital in Shrewsbury in December. He said that I would need a nerve block injection so i waited till March before having this. However to receive the injection I had to travel all the way to Telford as they had stopped offering this service in Shrewsbury anymore. I am now waiting for my follow up appointment to come through, before they decide on the next course of action to take, as to be honest my back has felt worse not better after having it done. I have only just had my assessment for PIP this Tuesday (18th April) so am now awaiting there decision but after being screwed over once I'm not holding out much hope. I think it is a total disgrace the way the government have been treating the sick and disabled, after all I didn't intend to go into work and injure myself that morning so would like to know what I've done wrong. What Theresa May fails to understand is if she'd actually put the money into the NHS she's claiming to, instead of cooking the books, when they are not even investing half of what they claim they are, then I, and others in the same boat as me, might be able to get treated in a reasonable amount of time and be back at work before ever needing benefits. I think it's laughable as well that all she wants people to concentrate on during this election is Brexit cause lets face it if they're looking at Europe they might actually forget what's going on at home. Only thing is there might be a few million people who've had to suffer the indignity of one of these assessments, and been screwed over by the process, who might just have something to say about that. I myself voted leave but the devil will be juggling snowballs before I'd ever vote for her or any of the evil ****** in her party.                                                                                          

[thecoroutfitters]

Written by R. Ann Parris on The Prepper Journal.

Editors Note: Another article on chickens from R. Ann Parris to The Prepper Journal. If you have information for Preppers that you would like to share then enter into the Prepper Writing Contest with a chance to win one of three Amazon Gift Cards with the top prize being a $300 card to purchase your own prepping supplies!

Chickens are some of the most popular livestock worldwide, modern backyard enthusiasts to sustenance-level farms from China to the Balkans. There’s good reason. They’re economical, versatile on the table, and multi-function laborers. Most chickens have pretty short “working” lives, though, which means we need to replace them regularly.

(Full disclosure: I don’t actually like chickens, but they’re essential to my production capabilities and I respect them as such.)

Breeding capability builds our resilience against the personal and short-term disasters as well as the nation-shaking and world-altering crises. A good rooster and reliable broody hen are a gold mine in these days of ordering chicks.

Those broodies are worth identifying, especially. They can save us time, electricity, and effort, and even increase the efficiency of our other poultry. Watching for some key traits in our hens, both good and bad, can maximize our flock’s ease and success.

I’m specifically talking about chickens, but many factors also apply to other poultry, and the behavioral aspects apply to the other super-efficient, inexpensive, every-prepper, apartment to acreage meat source: rabbits.

*Not everybody who can/will shoot a person or a wild animal is capable of harvesting something they raised. Start small and make sure you can actually control the population before you go big or breed more.

Broodiness

Broodiness is basically when a hen is ready and willing to sit a nest. I have never successfully induced broodiness. If a hen doesn’t want kids right now, game over. Maybe somebody is managing, but don’t waste too much time trying on this one.

See, most of the suggestions miss a big factor: Successful mothers are usually older hens, 3+ years. The best are typically upper-echelon birds hitting 4-6 years old.

Because laying decreases significantly every year, a lot of people have already replaced hens by then, leaving mostly young birds. It’s expecting a toddler-teen to focus, earn, budget, and shop like a 30-40-year-old.

That said, do use breed reviews to help anticipate broodiness expectations.

If you want a laying flock to periodically reproduce or serve as surrogates, avoid breeds listed as “low” and “no/almost never” for broodiness.

If we want 3+ clutches annually, we might maintain a couple keepers from breeds listed as “high/yes, often broody”, but try to go with breeds that break off broodiness easier, not breeds listed as persistent (read: constantly, stubbornly broody).

For fewer over-broody frustrations but periodic clutches from our layers, choose a “moderate/occasionally broody” breed.

Laying Boxes

Most of us expect our hens to share laying boxes. That can be a problem for brooding. If a hen shows signs of being inclined but isn’t sitting the eggs we’ve left, see if she’s getting displaced by other hens.

If so, that box is too popular. You need more boxes, to try moving her and her clutch to a different box, or relocating her box and replacing it for the other hens.

*Bonus tidbit: You may need extra boxes even with only 6-12 birds in non-brooding daily layer life, although you should be able to have a minimum of 2-4 layers using each box. — If you’re having problems, check the placements but start watching for personality traits and your own habits. There’s usually a problem, and it’s usually our fault or a particular animal or two with unacceptable behavioral issues.

Insufficient boxes can also be responsible for full and partial-clutch abandonment (she started sitting, then abandoned her eggs).

Check the hen and flock for battle signs, although roosters are rough lovers. She’s a sitting target on the nest, so he may actually be the problem. If it’s not him, she’s fighting off other hens for her nest, and may eventually give up or lose.

*Bonus tidbit: Hens with “love torn” back feathers are actually the indicator for most-likely-fertilized eggs.

Mean Ol’ Bitty

A hen should not resist being nudged out of the box daily. Nor should you be pecked over every egg. That’s cause to assess how calm the coop is at collection time (checking for problematic human habits) and then send problem birds to the glass-jar coop in the pantry.

Since our birds are calm, cool, and cooperative, we can recognize a hen exhibiting broody behaviors: staring daggers as soon as you appear, racing from feed/calcium/water to occupy the box before you get there, becoming increasingly unwilling to leave the box while you collect, fanning out feathers, pecking your shoe, snatching your sleeve, trying to squeeze through the lift in back-access boxes to follow her egg(s), and-or trying to wedge into the collection basket or hovering over it.

*Bonus tidbit: Also watch for hens laying near their favorite box(es) but not in them. Sometimes they can’t get in to lay because a broody is defending it.

Those behaviors are – for this out-of-character, slow-ramping (3-8 days), and temporary behavioral change – acceptable.

So long as they’re not excessive.

We are not going to screw with this hen often, but we are likely to want in there.

We need to add, crayon (track), and candle (check the contents of) eggs. We may want to get our hands on the hen (briefly and noninvasively) to feel under-the-feather condition.

In some cases, we may need to relocate our hen and her clutch/box (extreme weather, coop companions, brooder or grow-out pens, changing conditions that affect nest safety).

We’re usually going to want to get our hands on the chicks somewhere through their “raptor” stage at least once or twice, even if we’re not sexing or weighing them and don’t handle/socialize our birds.

We need to be able to do this without the stress that excessive guarding creates within the flock and her clutch. Excessive guarding can also be contagious to the flock and chicks, and carry over to her post-clutch conduct.

We might let an over-aggressive bitty raise this clutch (be aware: the genetic inclination is there if it’s her chicks). We wouldn’t indulge her broodiness again, though, and she’s looking hard at the butcher-paper poncho.

(Apply that to rabbits and other livestock, too. There’s a line mothers need to walk between enough and excess.)

Successful Broody Traits

On top of her personality, a broody hen needs to check a few boxes successfully, and a few more if we’re not hand-rearing the chicks or she’s raising them inside a flock.

One, and it might seem obvious, but she needs to eat.

Two, she needs to be lickety-splickety, and then get back to the clutch.

(Psst … We usually need to feed her, not expect her to free-range forage.)

Some hens are easily distracted or not dedicated, and will leave a clutch too long. Flip side, some barely budge at all. We may need to provide her with some extra tidbits, or keep feed and water closer.

Good mothers of most species lose condition, but if she loses too much, it may be months before she recovers enough to lay again after her brood.

Also seemingly obvious: She needs to sit her nest for the 12-60 hours it takes all the eggs to hatch.

Flaky hens will sometimes only sit the first few chicks, then abandon the rest. It’s especially frustrating to find cool, wasted eggs that were abandoned half-cracked and chicks that have gone hypothermic. Check them frequently when hatching starts.

Some young hens are like any other new mother, and just don’t get it yet.

We may be able to finish the hatching this time, but if she leaves early a 2nd-3rd time, we need to not indulge her broodiness anymore (and weigh feed-productivity against a glass-jar coop).

Unless we’re taking the chicks away to raise and only wanted the non-electric incubator, our broody hen needs to walk another balanced line: showing her fluffy-fuzzies how to eat and drink, but keeping the late-cracking pips and wet peepers warm enough.

This is another one where a food-water station near the box can make a difference.

If she’s keeping her peepers, the bitty walks that narrow aggression line again: Being peck-happy enough to protect her chicks from other barnyard residents, but not being a feathered Terminator intent on keeping everything 50’ away from the shed.

*Chickens are brutal. Do let her keep other birds off the chicks.

I prefer flock-raised clutches, but it’s not always possible. Big-gap fencing, small hawks/big crows, free-range factors, and the broody spending too much time guarding can make it unfeasible.

*Watch for a particular bird harassing her/them; problem chickens get the Ziploc poncho.

Especially if we have a big, multiple-breed, or mixed flock, we’re likely to need a brooder pen. Usually multiple hens can share them, especially if the nests are within 2-4 weeks of each other.

Once they’re separated, we’re going to have to be careful with introductions/reintroduction’s to the flock.

Surrogates

While my preferred birds will raise guineafowl, quail, turkey, and waterfowl, I for-sure want hens that will incubate them.

Sometimes we can add 3-4 eggs at a time, so she has the 10-20 she can cover in just a couple days. Sometimes we can add a full dozen at once. Sometimes it has to be slower, adding 1-2 eggs at a time to the ones she’s laying.

Some will roll significantly different-sized eggs out of the nest. I don’t love it, but it’s not a glass-coop or never-again offense to me.

A workaround is swapping for her eggs. Sometimes we’re stuck with 1:1 egg replacement, but usually we can match the size/mass of what she had – 2-3 hen eggs for 3-6 quail eggs or 1-2 goose or turkey eggs.

*Hen size determines her max egg count. Chickens cannot fit over as many goose or turkey eggs/chicks as they would their own.

Some hens will take on not only foreign eggs, but live chicks. Some will accept even 7-10-day-old chicks into their clutch.

It’s a rarer hen that will let you add already-hatched other-species to her own chicks, but they’re out there. (Some bitties would happily sit a half-grown emu.)

If you’re going to lose a clutch anyway (power/heat light out, mother overwhelmed or killed), give it a shot but brace for carnage. The earlier you can add them, the better.

I love the surrogate trait, but I don’t want hens too crazy with their adoptions. Too-keen birds trying to steal eggs or chicks are too disruptive, especially in smaller flocks.

It can result in fights, serious injuries, production-stoppage (stress), broken eggs, and mangled, run-over chicks.

We spent 5+ weeks (minimum) doing without a layer’s production to get those young birds. Heaven forbid they be from slow-laying, low-production game birds. The problem hen heads to Camp Kettle.

Broody Birds

Reproducing our flocks takes some pre-planning and know-how, but it increases our resilience to everything from personal disasters to worldwide crisis.

Reliable, versatile broody hens further increase our capabilities, even beyond small (but devastating) crises like outages/gennie failure and burned-out incubators and brood lights. They improve the efficiency of all our poultry.

Older, slower-laying chickens can raise clutches for higher-yielding young hens, maximizing each’s strongpoints and minimalizing each’s inherent age weaknesses.

Chicken surrogates incubating slower-laying game bird eggs gets those hens back to laying faster, too.

They also give us a canny bird to raise clutches for species that are mortally stupid mothers.

However, excessive broodiness is a problem akin to clutch abandonment and fake broodiness, and there are other broody behaviors we want to remove from our bloodlines. It can be hard for some keepers, but it’ll give us a more peaceful and productive flock in the long run.

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[365footballorg-blog]

The super agent, the Chinese owners & global ambition - inside promoted Wolves

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‘The Pack is Back’ is Wolves’ way of announcing their return to the Premier League – and chairman Jeff Shi has a vision to make the club one of the best in the world.

But their promotion from the Championship has not been without controversy.

Leeds chairman Andrea Radrizzani has called the link between Wolves’ Chinese owners and Portuguese super agent Jorge Mendes “illegal and unfair”.

And Aston Villa manager Steve Bruce has questioned how Wolves have been able to sign players who have featured in the Champions League.

Mendes is one of the most influential agents in the world and his clients include Real Madrid’s Cristiano Ronaldo and Manchester United manager Jose Mourinho.

Wolves are adamant that their approach is within the rules – and there are other reasons why they believe the club will remain on the up.

The Mendes issue – ‘Jorge is my friend’

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Encouraged by a desire from China’s President Xi Jinping to have more Chinese involvement in European football, conglomerate Fosun International bought Wolves for £45m in July 2016.

The deal came seven months after a subsidiary of Fosun had taken a 20% stake in Mendes’ Gestifute agency.

Mendes advised Fosun in their takeover of Wolves.

Shi told the BBC: “Jorge is my friend. He knows a lot about the industry. Sometimes when you are new to an industry, you need someone to help you, to tell you what to do, to share their failures and success. I can get good advice from him.”

One of the things Shi has learned is success tends to attract increased scrutiny.

Who is Jorge Mendes?

Jorge Mendes has been described as a ‘super agent’ He is the founder of Gestifute, one of the world’s biggest football agencies Cristiano Ronaldo, Diego Costa, James Rodriguez, David de Gea and Jose Mourinho are among his clients Mendes was a nightclub owner before moving into football

When Blackburn floundered under the ownership of Indian chicken company Venky’s almost a decade ago, there was criticism from supporters and the media of agent Jerome Anderson’s advice on the purchase of the club, the appointment of his client Steve Kean as manager and which players were signed.

As Blackburn plummeted out of the Premier League and, eventually, into League One, rival clubs remained silent.

But there are fingers pointed at Wolves, with suggestions that both the EFL and the Premier League may look again at the structure of the club, its ownership and Mendes’ involvement within it.

‘I know every rule in the FA book’

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Under Football Association rules, club owners are prohibited from holding an interest in agencies and agents are not allowed to have an influence on the running of a club.

Wolves reject the notion that they are bending the rules.

“I don’t know why they are thinking like this. Officially, legally, we passed all the owners’ tests,” said Shi.

“I know every rule in the FA book. I think, totally, legally, there is not any problems.

“The other thing is how can you get help from your network or your friends? Some have friends who are agents, or know a player or a market very well or have some friends to help you. Jorge is good at judging a player and has given good advice about the best way to build a team.

“When I came here people told me the Championship was about physicality, resilience and endurance. Also there was a formula about the squad and how many fresh players you needed. I can understand that. Many teams have been promoted through that formula.

“But you cannot copy other teams. If you want to stay in the Premier League and flourish, you have to play good football. It is hard but that mindset has come partly through my talk with Jorge.”

Managing director Laurie Dalrymple said: “We are completely comfortable; in the way we recruit players, the strategy we deploy to do that and the system we build around how we finance it.

“I would provide clarity to the Leeds owner face to face if he really wanted to know. I would provide clarity to anyone if they really wanted to engage in a discussion with us.

“At no point to my knowledge and with the dialogue I have had with the EFL or the FA or anyone has there been any concern from their perspective about the way we conduct ourselves.

“When the club was sold, specific tests needed to be passed and declarations were made.

“Nothing has changed from then to now. We consider ourselves to be operating firmly within the rules and don’t see that changing in the future.”

A slow start, Nuno’s ‘big risk’ and the Neves factor

Wolves’ domination – Championship stats 2017-18 Wolves Rank

(Opta)

Goals 78 1st Goals conceded 36 2nd Home wins 16 1st Away wins 13 1st Shots on target 204 3rd Goal conversion 18% 1st Total passes 21,531 2nd Successful passes 17,575 2nd Assists 56 1st Clean sheets 22 1st

Fosun’s first 12 months as Wolves’ owners were not a success.

They sacked manager Kenny Jackett a week after the takeover. His replacement, Walter Zenga, was axed after 17 games and the services of Paul Lambert were also dispensed with at the end of last season.

“The suffering was predictable,” said Shi. “We are not geniuses. We are students here.”

The timing of the takeover is cited as a reason why that first season went wrong. The arrival of Nuno Espirito Santo as manager in May 2017 was a major factor in the second campaign going so right.

Nuno, 43, replaced Lambert to become Wolves’ seventh manager in five years since the departure of the long-serving Mick McCarthy in February 2012.

Apart from Jackett, who lasted three seasons, Lambert’s 33 games had been the longest reign.

Nuno has Champions League experience from Valencia, where he was replaced by Gary Neville, and Porto, the club he left by mutual consent a week before he joined Wolves.

As a 22-year-old budding goalkeeper, he was also Mendes’ first client.

Wolves 2017-18 signings Player Transferred from Price

Transfer fees according to transfermarkt.com

Ruben Neves Porto £16.1m Diogo Jota Atletico Madrid Loan (becoming permanent 1 July) Roderick Miranda Rio Ave £2.7m Rafael Mir Valencia £1.8m Barry Douglas Konyaspor £1.03m Ben Stevenson Coventry City £513,000 Ryan Bennett Norwich Free transfer John Ruddy Norwich Free transfer Phil Ofosu-Ayeh Eintracht Braunschweig Free transfer Oskar Buur Brabrand IF Free transfer Willy Boly Porto Loan Leo Bonatini Al-Hilal Loan Alfred N’Diaye Villarreal Loan Benik Afobe Bournemouth Loan

Shi says: “It was not easy to convince Nuno to come here. He took a large risk. The Championship is the toughest league in the world but he had a brave heart to embrace the challenge.”

It would be naive to think Mendes was not a significant factor in Nuno’s arrival at Molineux.

The same can also be said of 21-year-old Ruben Neves, who Wolves were stunned did not win the EFL player of the year award last weekend and scored a wonderful volley against Derby on 11 April.

Neves cost a Championship record £15.8m when he signed a five-year deal after moving from Porto in July 2017. He is the youngest Portuguese to play in the Champions League and also score in it.

He started eight games for Porto in 2016-17, including the Champions League last-16 first-leg tie with Juventus.

Neves is one of 19 Wolves players who have made 10 appearances or more in all competitions so far this season.

Of those, seven are either Portuguese or, in defender Willy Boly’s case, signed on loan from a Portuguese club.

Swapping China for the Black Country

Mendes is not the agent for even half of the players Wolves have signed since the Fosun takeover. However, he is an invaluable source of information for Shi, whose business expertise comes from outside football.

Shi said: “I had a career as a manager of organisations. Before coming I was just a common football fan. That was from the outside.

“After I came I realised I had to learn something about football from the inside.”

The greatest lesson Shi learned in his first 12 months was that he was living in the wrong place, and that commuting regularly from his home city of Shanghai was no substitute for being around the club permanently.

“You have to live in the city where the players are being coached, where you can watch training and games so you can feel what is really happening every day,” he said.

“Coming over here full-time was the best decision I have ever made.

“It has allowed me to learn a lot of things about football and speak to many people about how to get a good team, how to work with the head coach and how to work on the commercial side.”

The pursuit of global status

There are factors away from the playing personnel that Wolves feel can contribute to their upward trajectory.

Molineux, their home since 1889, needs major renovation if the standard of the stadium is to match the team intended to play there.

“If we want to be the totem for the area then the facilities and the stadium need to be better than they are. There are parts of that stadium that are 35 years old,” said Dalrymple.

“Time and technology develops so quickly. We know we have some work to do but it will be strategic and methodical.”

Millions are being spent on the training ground, where the first team pitch has already been dug up and the rest of the facilities are set for a major overhaul.

It is all a far cry from 2002 when Paul Ince and Denis Irwin arrived from Middlesbrough and Manchester United respectively to discover they had to get changed in a Portakabin.

With Fosun’s money, Shi’s quiet authority, Mendes’ nous and Nuno’s management, the possibilities for Wolves appear endless.

“The only thing we had to sort out when we came was the first team. Now we have done that, we can do something really special,” Shi said.

“But this is a long-term thing and it is not only about the first team.

“It is about the facilities, the academy, the stadium, everything to help make the club one of the best in the world. That is our vision.”

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The super agent, the Chinese owners & global ambition – inside promoted Wolves was originally published on 365 Football

[lareinedumondejeb]

Lady at the vet on August 10th.

On August 10, 2017, my horse Lady was chased by dogs.  She had tied up and had wounds all over, particularly on the left foreleg. She was very lame, but it was difficult to see where the problem(s) was(were).

Using logical deduction (just about the only thing that would cause her to run around frantically was a pack of dogs, and the wounds looked like bites), I stated that, although we had not seen what happened, I was 95% certain it was dogs. Several days later we captured one of the culprits; a young puppy (at least) had returned to the scene of the crime and was too stupid to get through the fence when the kids came out.

left fore had the worst injuries.

The apprentice vet suggested x-raying the left foreleg, but I was convinced it was superficial, and that belief was backed by senior vet who arrived later. The only relatively untouched lower leg was the right hind. She also had strange scrapes on her chest, and a swelling on her neck with punctures that could have been teeth. I thought she had run into a fence, but after walking the entire fence line, realized that was impossible.

bite on neck

Her blood work, unsurprisingly, was consistent with tying-up (duh, it was obvious). She stayed the night at the clinic to a fortune’s worth of liquids. She also received Banamine, and the left fore was wrapped with DMSO and furacin (at an exorbitant cost, I should have done it before I left her).

The next day I brought her home. The first few days, she didn’t know which leg to favor, she was so sore. She was confined to the stall for the most part, but I took her out to graze. By the third day I knew something was seriously wrong with her left fore. I had seen many horses tie up. This was not only exercise induced rhabdomyolosis.

I did the best I could to take a video (ie I had my son do it) which I sent to my vet to convince him that yes, my horse was very broken, it was from the shoulder, and he needed to come out because I didn’t want to trailer her.

The above video was taken August 15. You can also see hives on her neck. For about a month, she would sporadically get hives on the left side of her neck, starting where the “bite” was. She because allergic to fly sprays (but I could use them as long as I didn’t get near the neck). No idea what that was about.

I sent the video to my vet, Dr. Trent Bliss at Interstate Equine, the next day. He said give her bute (I’d already done that on my own initiative). Two days later I texted him and said she was worse, and couldn’t get up properly, so he came out the next Monday (August 21, 11 days after the injury).

To be fair, I’d been regularly having the clinic look at Lady because of lamenesses I detected (and in one case, detected by two endurance ride vets –lameness pull) that were invisible or insignificant every time they looked at her. I have very sensitive unevenness radar.

The really good thing was that as soon as Dr. Bliss saw Lady walk on the 21st, he said “Sweeney.” (aka suprascapular neuropathy, or damage to the shoulder nerves).  I have since learned that many cases of sweeney are misdiagnosed because it is relatively rare nowadays.  I had never seen a case outside of the veterinary encyclopedias I used to study to prepare for the written exam portions of Youth of the Year contests.  My understanding (from my teenage days) was that it resulted from ill-fitting harnesses (collars); it was a disease of working horses (ironically, so was tying-up, or Monday morning disease, common in work horses that were given Sundays off on full rations).

Dr. Bliss also said, “wow, you’re right, it is the shoulder.” (The shoulder is often blamed for lower limb lameness, probably because from the saddle it feels like the shoulder isn’t working properly when the horse fails to fully extend the leg).

Lady had an acute and severe case of sweeney. Taking into consideration the hematoma and bite marks on the lower left leg, we believe she was grabbed by a dog and fell, over-extending the left leg behind the rear legs (one cause of trauma-induced sweeney).  For those of you who would want to be able to identify it, and complain that it’s unclear in the videos: the horse will pull the leg forward in a swinging motion, out from the elbow/shoulder.  The toe may drag (Lady did this for about a month, 4-8 weeks post-injury). Once the foot is placed, the elbow will turn out as the horse steps forward with the sound leg. It’s easily recognizable once you know what you;re looking for.

Lady was prescribed stall rest and EQUIOXX. a NSAID that can be administered long term to horses, for the foreseeable future.  At least three months and probably twelve.  At this time, she could barely get up, and couldn’t get up at all from the bad side (I had to roll her over when she fell).  She fell several times in the week before the sweeney diagnosis, because she didn’t understand she was disabled. (Fortunately, she soon learned to balance.) It was very discouraging.. not only would I not be able to ride her, she wouldn’t even be able to carry a foal if she couldn’t get up.

3 September 2017

Above are pictures from September 3rd, 3.5 weeks after injury. You can clearly see the atrophy.

I asked advice on the AERC Facebook page, had my mom ask her vet clinic, asked friends… There seemed to be no established procedure and no guaranteed cure. Lady is insured, and they would have covered surgery, but I really did not want to do this (even though my vet did mention the option). The general consensus was that the best bet would be acupuncture–which of course the insurance did not cover.

One month after the original trauma, I finally got an acupuncturist, Dr. Julia White,  out. We did an initial video (below). Lady required sedation, and was still twitchy with flies, but Dr. White did electro-acupuncture and then left the needles in for another 20 minutes.

I had my doubts, and we still don’t know the extent to which the treatment aided recovery (no random assignment, etc), but one thing is certain: it must have felt good, because Lady loves her needle sessions. The second time Dr. White came, after one week, Lady recognized her as soon as she got out of the truck, and stood quietly for the needles. We’ve never had to sedate her again, even though she has turned into a bit of a fire-breathing dragon now she’s feeling better.

Dr. White also advised using balance trainers (see picture below). Lady is also getting megadoses of Vitamin E and flax seed meal (for the omega acids). I use a TENS/EMS unit on her every day while cleaning stall, etc. (ideally one hour, but often less). At first I got no reaction from the atrophied muscle, but it slowly improved.

Lady on balance trainers (she’ll stay there 10+ minutes if you are beside her, but gets off as soon as I go to clean the stall), with TENs Unit

I also took Lady out to roll in sand almost every day (sometimes in mud, if it had rained). She is on free choice grass hay (I fill four hay nets a day, and she has about half a net leftover in 24 hours), and one cup of Nutrena Safe Choice (split in two feedings). She gets about 1/3 cup Nutrena Pro-force fuel with her EQUIOXX and Vitamin E. I started hand walking in early October, with the goal of “not making her more lame” each time; ie I was supposed to stop before she got worse, which at the beginning was about one minute.

November 1, 2017

See all those needles in the above pictures (Taken November 1st)? Lady doesn’t move a muscle during application. Her last session was yesterday. She also got a chiropractic adjustment; rearing and levitating is not good for you when you are already damaged.

The reason I am finally completing this blog is that I am hopeful, at last, after nearly four months, that I might be able to not only breed Lady, but potentially ride her as well. On Monday, Lady went nuts after her roll. Rearing, jumping, scootching around like an 850 lb greyhound in back of me. So I left her in the round pen to get a longe rope (she ground ties just fine even when she won’t lead). I sent her around me in both directions, bucking and snorting for about 30 seconds, to get her manageable. Then I took the video below.

She’s a different horse! Even after already having played more than she had in four months, she was barely lame, and had only a tiny bit of sweeney in the elbow at the walk. I was very excited and shared the video with Dr. Bliss. Dr. White came out yesterday and agreed with me that she was doing fantastic, considering the severity of the injury and the short time that has passed. Of course, she was much more lame on Tuesday, but already improving again yesterday. Still sore today, but not too bad. Dr. Bliss says I’ll know she’s mostly recovered when she does the crazy two days in a row.

Of course, now comes the difficult part: keeping her from damaging the rest of her body while she recovers, and/or redamaging the nerve by being stupid. She has to stay in the stall, on EQUIOXX, and have controlled exercise (i.e.,  hand-walking), until she’s in no danger of injuring herself. I am fantasizing with occasional turnout on good (not slippery or muddy) terrain, with horses near but not in with her, at around six months. I cannot wait to get her out of the stall permanently though, so I don’t want to rush things.

Video of today’s therapy session:

I will add to this in a few months, to document the changes.

  Lady a few days before the injury. The now-bad shoulder looked just like this one 😉

Sweeney Shoulder On August 10, 2017, my horse Lady was chased by dogs.  She had tied up and had wounds all over, particularly on the left foreleg.