#k lock scaffolding

[tianjinwellmadescaffold]

Cuplock Scaffold System - EN12810 European Standard - Steel Modular Scaf...

[white-wolf-buckaroo]

Where the Flowers Don't Grow - Chapter 7

Word Count: 7.8 k oops

Warnings: basically everything you should be warned about with TLOU, honestly

Notes: Ladies and Gents, welcome to Jackson

Fic Masterlist

Faith had never been in a town like Jackson.

She’d seen cities before—places that used to be cities, anyway. Empty husks crawling with infected and worse things. Kansas City had been the worst. Oppressive, suffocating, full of screams you could hear even in your sleep. She’d dreamed about it for weeks after they left. The broken glass, the blood-stained windows, the way even the sky over it had looked wrong.

But Jackson… Jackson was something else entirely.

The wall came into view first—a towering structure of metal and lumber that curved around the community like a protective spine. Armed guards stood along its top, rifles in hand, eyes watchful. There was a gate up ahead, built like a fortress door from a storybook, and when it creaked open at their approach, it felt like stepping into a different world.

Ellie tightened her grip around Faith as the horse carried them inside.

Snow crunched beneath the hooves. They passed under the arch and into a town that looked like it had been plucked from a memory. Or in their case, a dream.

A wide street stretched ahead, dusted in soft snow, with buildings on either side—sturdy, well-kept, full of color and life. There was a warmth to the place that didn’t come from the cold sun overhead, but from the way people moved, spoke, lived. Strings of lights hung between buildings, gently swaying. One structure had a faded wooden sign swinging above its door: Tipsy Bison. There was also a school, and a row of other shops followed—one had an old Coca-Cola sign still hanging out front, others flew an American flag that looked recently stitched. In the distance, they could see a huge Christmas tree, decorated with ornaments and lit with string lights, like straight of a fairytale.

Children ran between the buildings in coats and mittens, some of them even building snowmen with their friends and families. Laughter echoed somewhere near a large communal fire pit. Faith stared. She couldn’t help it. People were smiling. Actually smiling.

She didn’t even know towns like this could exist anymore.

Joel rode just behind them, but his eyes were darting everywhere. Watching for exits, threats. He hadn’t relaxed, not yet.

They passed by a building in mid-construction, planks stacked outside, people working on scaffolding with actual tools—real tools, not makeshift pieces of metal scavenged from ruined garages. A man walked by with a level balanced on his shoulder, whistling under his breath. Faith blinked.

This wasn’t a trap.

This was real.

They stopped in the middle of the main street. Several people had come to a halt nearby, some curious, some wary. Faith couldn’t blame them. Three strangers brought in by patrol? She’d be staring too.

Joel’s horse slowed. He slid down from it as one of the riders dismounted. His brows were drawn, like he couldn’t quite make sense of what he was seeing—until his eyes locked onto someone just across the way.

Faith followed his gaze.

There was a man there. Tall, lean, with familiar posture and the same set jaw as Joel. Dark hair pulled back, a moustache over his lip. He’d been giving orders to someone on the construction site, but now he’d frozen. His eyes widened as they landed on Joel.

Joel’s breath hitched.

“Tommy!”

The man turned fully to face him. Faith and Ellie saw instant recognition graze his features.

“Joel?”

Joel didn’t wait for confirmation. He was already moving, pushing past the horse, through the snow, faster than Faith had ever seen him move.

“Tommy!”

Tommy stepped forward just in time for Joel to grab him.

It wasn’t just a hug—it was a desperate, bone-deep clutch. The kind of hug someone gives when they’ve been carrying grief too long. Joel wrapped both arms around his younger brother and pulled him close, eyes shut tight. Tommy didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Joel back just as hard, one hand clapping his shoulder, voice catching somewhere in his chest.

“What the fuck are you doin’ here?” Tommy asked him, smiling like a madman. It’d been too long, too damn long since they’d seen each other.

“I came here to save you,” Joel breathed.

Faith smiled before she even realized it.

She’d never seen Joel like that. Not this soft. Not this open. He was always guarded, even when she could see cracks forming in his armour. But there it was, right in front of hers and Ellie’s eyes—pure, genuine relief, with a full belly laugh hugging his brother back. She didn’t know the whole story between them, not really, but it didn’t matter. The emotion on Joel’s face said everything. All the miles they’d crossed, the blood they’d spilled, the cold and hunger—they’d all led here.

Tommy finally pulled back, blinking rapidly, brushing snow off Joel’s shoulder like it mattered. “Come on,” he said, his voice still thick with shock. “Come on, man. We’ll get you warm.” He looked over at the girls he didn’t know, smiling politely at them. “I’m Tommy, Joel’s brother.”

Faith helped Ellie get down from the horse and she smiled at Tommy, introducing herself and Ellie, who was uncharacteristically silent.

Tommy nodded, his gaze softening as he looked at them. “You’re all welcome here. Come on, let’s get you warm. I’m sure you’ve all had a long journey to get here.”

“You could say that,” muttered Ellie. “I’m starving”

“Let’s get you some food, then.”

(…)

The food hall was huge. It had a dozen tables in the centre of the room, and many more by the windows. On the opposite side, there were different food bars with more food than Faith had ever seen all at once, keeping it warm under a soft orange light.

They got themselves a plate each, full to the brim, unable to resist the delicious looking feast they had at reach.

“There’s more if you need it.”

The woman who had found them and taken them to Jackson was seated with them now, next to Tommy. Joel was next to her, across from Tommy, and to his left he had Ellie, and then Faith. They were too hungry to eat any slower, but neither Tommy nor the woman said anything. They probably understood their desperation, probably havin’ felt it too more than once in the last twenty years.

“Thank you, ma’am,” said Joel. “It’s been a while since we’ve had a proper meal.”

Faith had to smile at his politeness. It wasn’t everyday she got to see Joel like this. It was also a reminder that he had been born into a society were manners were still taught before how to shoot at an infected to stay alive.

To put it simply, he was old school. Austin, Texas old school.

A cowboy with manners.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper meal,” said Ellie now, taking another bite. “This is fucking amazing.”

Joel looked at her, his eyes widening a bit at her comment. He looked at Tommy and the woman apologetically:

“Sorry,” he turned back to the girl, “Ellie, let’s mind our manners. Do like Faith, huh?” he gestured at the girl, who was silently eating – more like devouring – her plate, but still, silently.

“She’s right, though,” Faith couldn’t help her smile now. “Food’s fucking delicious.”

Joel had to give up after that.

Tommy and the woman only smiled back, clearly amused with the girls.

“It’s okay,” Tommy said, “I’m glad you like it.”

Ellie nodded at him, but then some movement caught her eye. She saw a young girl a few feet away, looking at them hiding behind a thin column, clearly visible.

“What?!” Ellie almost barked at the girl, who quickly turned around and left the food hall.

“What’s wrong with you?”

“What about her manners, huh?”

“Ellie, she was only lookin’ at us,” tried Faith, nudging her softly. “You’d be starin’ too if someone new came around your town.”

“Exactly,” the woman next to Tommy said. “She was just curious. Kids around here… Don’t usually look or talk like you two.”

“Maybe I’ll teach them,” mumbled Ellie, a bit bitterly. “And I want my gun back.”

Faith grimaced. She wanted her weapons back too.

“Kids around here also aren’t armed,” added the woman.

She was basically holding a staring contest with Ellie now. Joel just kept eating, his preferences clear as day, but Tommy and Faith noticed and tried to intervene: Faith gave Ellie some extra bread, while Tommy began to talk:

“You know what? Uh… I think maybe y’all got a little off on the wrong foot.”

He wasn’t wrong, really.

“She was gonna have her guys kill us!” Ellie exclaimed, pointing at the woman.

“Well… we gotta be real careful about who we let in this place,” replied Tommy, calmly. It seemed like he had experience with talking to a teenager. “But it’s all bark. We’re just tryna’ scare off those who might wanna try us, is all.”

“You gotta’ couple of ninety year olds shitting themselves out there…” Joel tried to stop her with a firm ‘Ellie!’ but she kept on talking. “They say that you leave dead bodies around?”

“Those are the people who tried us,” answered the woman.

“A bad reputation doesn’t mean you’re bad.”

“Not always, at least,” added the woman. She looked at Joel, then at the girls, like she knew something about them they didn’t.

The woman hardly blinked. It was kinda disturbing, to be honest.

“Ma’am,” Joel spoke up, his tone polite again. “We’re grateful for your hospitality and all. But it’d be nice to have a moment here… maybe just for family.”

The woman didn’t move. Tommy did, though. Faith watched as he went to grab the woman’s hand gently, seeing they were wearing matching golden rings. “Well, uh… Maria is family, actually.”

“Oh shit!” exclaimed Ellie, sarcasm still noticeable in her tone.

“Congrats,” said Faith, trying to smile politely like Joel had before.

“Yeah, congrats,” added Ellie. She looked at Joel to her right, still silent, and she whispered. “Joel, say congrats.”

“… Congrats.” He said, with the same flat tone Faith had ever heard of him when they met in KC.

The silence was heavy after that. Ellie didn’t know much about family reunions, but she didn’t imagine them being this tense.

Faith and Ellie were beginning to eat their dessert when Tommy tried to lift the mood again:

“How about a tour?”

(…)

Apparently, they’d settled in Jackson about seven years ago. That was one year after Faith and her family had left the QZ. Maybe if they’d headed west instead of east… they could’ve had ended up here too.

Faith didn’t give much time to that thought. She had learned to avoid those who gave her a feeling of regret and despair for something she couldn’t change anymore.

She marvelled at the Christmas tree, unable to hide her excitement at seeing the hand made ornaments and the small twinkling lights wrapped around the branches.

“It’s beautiful,” she told Maria, sincerely. The woman smiled at her, saying something about how they did Christmas workshops for kids at the school in the afternoons.

“Maybe you could stop by later,” she told her, as they headed down main street with the others. “There’s lots of kids, it can be fun.”

Faith glanced at a little boy and a little girl playing in the snow nearby with their mother, giggling carefreely. When they saw her looking the little boy went still, but the girl waved at Faith, who blushed a bit at getting caught and awkwardly waved back.

She picked up her pace, walking next to Joel now. He didn’t say anything about her pink cheeks. Just glanced at her quietly.

“You okay?” he asked, instead.

Faith nodded quickly. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s, uh… it’s just a lot of people, at once. Haven’t been around this many in forever,” she let out a nervous laugh, before adding: “Not unless you count KC, which… we better not count.”

Joel made a small grunt of agreement, keeping close to her side as they walked.

“So there’s no infected in the area?”

“Just smaller colonies,” said Tommy, “wandered off from the cities. All this open country out here, it’s a turkey shoot. I still got my 700…”

Faith didn’t hear the rest—she was distracted again, eyes roaming the buildings they passed.

It was almost eerie, how… normal things looked.

Not entirely, of course. It was rough around the edges. Weathered. But it didn’t feel broken. People waved to one another. Doors were left open. Smoke rose from chimneys.

Society—real society—felt like a story people used to tell to comfort themselves. But Jackson was society. And after everything, after years of surviving like a stray, Faith didn’t know what to do with the stillness. With the safety. If felt… Unsettling.

So she stuck close to Joel and Ellie. That, at least, felt real.

“How do you keep this place quiet?”

“Carefully. Being in the middle of nowhere helps. Not advertising what we have, staying off the radio…”

Joel clanged at Tommy then, but his little brother refused his look. Faith remembered something about Joel telling her and Ellie that Tommy hadn’t been answering back on the radio. It was actually the reason why Joel had accepted leaving Boston with Ellie in the first place: to get to Tommy.

Turns out, Tommy had been staying off the radio on purpose.

Maria kept on telling them about their community. “… Old bank works as the jail, not that we’ve needed it.”

They stopped in front of a large pole that had a big generator on the very top, where many of the string lights that decorated the streets were connected to.

“You draw power from the dam?”

Oh, the water dam they’d seen.

Damn.

“Got that workin’ a couple years ago,” answered Maria. “After that, sewage, plumbing, water heaters, lights… Got everything goin’.”

Ellie glanced around, speaking up for the first time since they’d gone outside. “This place actually fuckin’ works.”

Close to main street were the stables and animal pens. There were also small white tents, actual greenhouses, for growing food. Faith really wanted to glance at some from the inside, and when Tommy caught her looking he actually invited her in:

“Come check it out,” Tommy offered, noticing Faith’s curious glance toward the greenhouse tents.

Faith looked to Joel without thinking. He gave her a small nod— a quiet permission.

She stepped off the packed snow path and followed Tommy inside.

The greenhouse air was warmer than outside, misty and thick with a clean, earthy scent that hit her senses right away.

It was bigger on the inside than she’d expected. Rows of raised beds lined the floor, lit with grow lights hanging from the cross beams above. Some of the beds had leafy greens—kale, chard, even romaine lettuce—thriving under the artificial warmth. Others had root vegetables, she guessed, judging by the leafy tops. There were vines climbing trellises along one wall, the faint promise of tomatoes even in winter. Shelves nearby were lined with trays of microgreens and seedlings, carefully labelled in neat handwriting.

“Holy shit,” Faith breathed without thinking.

Tommy chuckled, brushing his gloves off on his jacket. “We keep ‘em running year-round. Takes some coordination, especially in the winter, but the dam’s good for the energy, and we’ve got a few folks here who really know their stuff.”

Faith moved closer to one of the trays, fingers hovering just above a line of tiny spinach sprouts. “You’re growing real food.”

Tommy glanced at her, smiling. “That’s the idea.”

She didn’t know what compelled her to speak again, but it slipped out anyway. “You’ve got ladybugs, too,” she said, pointing at the small red dots near the base of the leafy greens. “Good for pest control. And those yellow cards—that’s for tracking whiteflies, right?”

Tommy tilted his head a bit, chuckling. “You know your plants.”

Faith hesitated, instantly self-conscious. “… A little.”

He nodded, not pressing her. “Well, if you ever want to help, we always need hands in here. Or even just someone to keep the seedlings company.”

She gave a shy half-smile, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Maybe.”

Tommy didn’t push. He just gestured to the exit with a tilt of his chin. “C’mon. Joel’s probably getting itchy out there.”

Sure enough, Joel was exactly where they’d left him, standing just outside the greenhouse, snow crunching faintly beneath his boots as he shifted his weight. He hadn’t moved from his spot. His eyes landed on Faith the second she stepped out, and only then did he relax the tight line in his shoulders.

Ellie was beside him, brushing snow off her coat. “Took you long enough. Did you get lost in a maze in there or something?”

Faith snorted under her breath. “They have plants. Food. Like… A lot.”

Ellie’s brows lifted, but before she could make another comment, Tommy was already leading them further along the tour.

They approached a sheep pen next, and Ellie smiled, calling for Joel:

“Hey, Joel, check it!”

His sheep farm dreams seemed to be closer than they thought. There were also horses, a lot of them, peacefully standing close by.

Ellie turned to Maria then, “So are you, like, in charge?”

“No one person’s in charge,” Maria answered. “I’m on the council. Democratically elected, serving 300 people including children. Everyone pitches in. We rotate patrols, food prep, repairs, huntin’, harvestin’...”

“Everything you see in our town,” added Tommy now. “Greenhouses, livestock… It’s all shared. Collective ownership.”

“So… communism?”

Faith looked from Joel to Tommy now, not entirely sure what that word meant. Tommy seemed a bit offended, though.

“Nah. Nah. It ain’t like that – “

“No,” interrupted Maria, “It is that. Literally. This is a commune. We’re communists.”

Tommy seemed to need a moment for self-reflection, so they left him there as they approached one of the stables where Ellie had spotted a young horse, a brown foal with a big white spot between her eyes.

“No way!” Ellie exclaimed, rushing to the horse.

“That’s our newest one,” Maria went with her, as did Faith. “Couple months old. You wanna’ pet’er?”

“Yeah!”

Faith approached the foal too, smiling softly as the young horse leaned into their touch.

“What’s her name?” she asked.

“Shimmer.”

“Shimmer,” Ellie repeated, petting the horse. She rubbed her nose against the foal’s snout, giggling, making Faith giggle too. “Shimmer, you’re so beautiful.”

Joel and Tommy stood close now too, a bit awkwardly, although the girls were too busy with the foal to notice. Maria did, though:

“Well, I’m sure they’d like a shower,” she said, talking to Tommy. “And some new clothes. We can put them in the empty house across the street from us?”

He nodded, agreeing: “Yeah. It’s a decent place. Pretty much untouched since ‘03, but it’s got the heat goin’ in it.” He shrugged. “Could do worse.”

“Oh, trust me” Ellie added, still smiling because of the horse. “We have been.”

Faith didn’t say anything at first. She glanced at Joel.

He was standing a little stiffer now, eyes flicking between the others. Something about Ellie’s comment had hit a nerve—it wasn’t anger exactly, but it lingered in his jaw, the way it tightened slightly. He seemed vulnerable… and a bit hurt.

“We’ve been doin’ fine,” Faith said quietly, without looking at anyone but him.

Joel’s eyes met hers then—just for a second. Something in his shoulders eased. He gave a small nod, almost like a thank you, and she knew he’d heard her.

That was enough.

“Well,” Maria added now, a bit awkwardly at the silent exchange. “I can take the girls over there if you two wanna… catch up?” She glanced at the two brothers, Tommy especially.

Tommy seemed uncertain. It was Joel who nodded then, agreeing with a small ‘okay’.

Ellie looked at Faith in a small moment of concern, not entirely comfortable now with leaving Joel’s side. Faith wasn’t all too sure about it either, to be honest, her eyes fixed on Joel as if her pleading and nervous look would be enough to make him stay.

 “Joel,” Ellie called out for him, a bit urgently.

“You’ll be fine,” he said, already walking away with Tommy. He had his own troubles to attend to.

The girls stood there in silence watching him leave’em, until Maria spoke again:

“Shall we?”

(…)

The Tipsy Bison looked like a bar straight out of a western movie.

Joel sat on a stool at the clean, lacquered bar while Tommy poured them both glasses filled with ice and whiskey.

Nothin’ like grabbing some drinks at a bar with your long lost brother to get some sense of normalcy back.

“’Been a long time,” he muttered, caressing the sleek bar softly, as if he wasn’t sure it was really there. He looked at Tommy then, at his black shiny hair pulled back from his face, longer than he usually kept it, and a grown moustache over his upper lip that made him look more serious than Joel remembered him to be. “Doesn’t seem like you aged much.”

“You on the other hand…” Tommy smiled, handing Joel his drink, grabbing his own to toast. “Thanks for still givin’ a shit about me.”

Joel took a sip of the drink, his eyes widening a bit. It just hit him how long it had been since he’d done something so casual as sipping on a drink in a bar with his brother. And the drink itself surprised him too, it seemed homemade.

Tommy smiled, confirming it. “Workin’ on raisin’ some hogs too,” he said, proudly. “Once we get bacon, I mean… what’s even left?”

Funny thing to ask in the apocalypse.

Joel stood up taking his drink with him, walking around the room to get away from Tommy’s gaze meeting his own.

“Christmas trees and bacon?” he took a look at an old piano against one of the walls to Tommy’s right, and a picture hung above it of the community. “Pretty decent setup.”

“So… How’s Tess?” that question caught him off guard. He hadn’t talked about Tess since she died months ago. He had forbidden Ellie to do so. They hadn’t even told Faith about her. He masked the pain of losing her, though, with practiced ease sayin’ she was fine, all right. “Good then,” Tommy glanced down at his drink, looking for the courage to ask the next, “and the kids?”

Joel faced Tommy again, thinking about the girls. They were probably taking a warm shower now, and putting on some fresh clothes Maria had promised them. He was glad, even happy, that they could get some rest while they were here. It had been a long three months.

“Yeah, uh… Ellie’s the daughter of some Firefly muckety-much, tryna find her family somewhere out here. I was headin’ in this direction, so…”

He couldn’t tell Tommy about her immunity. There was something about him… Joel couldn’t bring himself to do so, not yet, at least. Not when Tommy had been ignoring his radio calls for weeks because his wife told him so, not when they were the only family they had left.

Well… the only that Joel had left.

“Really? Goodness of your heart?”

He couldn’t deny that part. Tommy knew him too well. “There’s a payment.”

“Knew it,” he smirker, sipping from his drink. “And the other girl? The older one?”

“She’s, uh… Found her in Kansas City. She’d been alone for a while, so, uh… Told her she could tag along.”

“She’d been alone?” Tommy’s eyebrows frowned. The girl didn’t look older than fifteen. “How old are they?”

“Yeah... Doin’ fine, though. Faith’s sixteen now, Ellie fourteen,” he let the words sit, then went straight to the point, “So you know where they might be? These Fireflies?”

“Well, uh… They got a base down at the University of Eastern Colorado,” Tommy recalled, walking around the bar to join Joel up front, sitting on a stool, “It’s, uh… A week’s ride south. But it is severely fucked up between here and there.” He poured himself and Joel some more whiskey. “Infected, raiders… It’s not exactly an easy trip.”

“It’ll be easy for us, seein’ as how you can headshot infected from half a mile away,” Tommy had said something earlier about that. Total bullshit, in Joel’s opinion.

Tommy’s answer, though, wasn’t what he expected. “… I can’t go.”

“Come on,” Joel scoffed. “I made it across the country. The two of us can make it from here to Colorado,” Tommy only glanced at him for a second, shaking his head. “What, ‘cause your wife won’t let you?”

“Joel…”

“She the one who kept you off the radio? Is that why you stopped messaging me back?”

Tommy sighed. “After I ditched the Fireflies, Maria and her crew found me,” he explained. “They’re good people. They didn’t have to take me in… but they did. Like you with the girls, huh? And all they ask is that I follow their rules.”

“I’m your brother–!”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” he cut him off. “They’re very protective of this place, okay? And for good fuckin’ reason. If folks find out we’re up here–!”

“ – No, I heard. Wrong people might show up,” Joel said. “So is that what I am? Am I the wrong people?”

“Joel…”

“Those things I did, Tommy, those things that you judge me for… I did those things to keep us alive.”

“We did those things, not just you,” Tommy was growing mad too, mirroring Joel. “And they weren’t ‘things’, Joel. We murdered people. And I don’t judge you for it. We survived… The only was we knew how. But there were other ways. We just… Weren’t any good at’em.”

Joel knew, deep down, that Tommy was right. If only a bit. But he wasn’t having it.

“If you knew the shit that I’ve been through, Tommy, tryin’ to find you these last few months–“

Tommy interrupted him again, leaving him silent this time. “I’m gonna be a father.”

Oh.

Oh.

So that was what this was all about.

“Maria’s a few months along now. So I just gotta be more careful,” he shifted his position slightly on the stool, feeling the nerves creep on each of his limbs. “To be honest, I’m scared to death,” he laughed a bit, and took a sip from his whiskey. “But I don’t know. I feel like I’d be a good dad.”

Joel didn’t say anything at first. He only managed to grab the bottle of liquor Tommy had left in front of them, and pour them some more of it. God knew he needed it.

The only clear thing going through his mind at that moment where memories he hadn’t dared to look back at in a long time. Feelings he had tried to bury where the light wouldn’t find them. He recalled how it was like, the first time he had held his baby girl, how he had felt, how he had sworn to protect her forever… And then, as always, it hit him how he had failed her. And that was something he had never let himself forget.

So he was bitter now because of it, he knew.

But sometimes, like right now, he really couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Guess we’ll find out.”

Tommy frowned, looking at Joel confused and rather offended.

“I guess we’ll find out? That’s all you got?”

“What else am I supposed to say?” he knew he was being unfair to Tommy. He knew he should feel happy for his brother and his wife. But all he could feel was old and rusty anger born from twenty long years of grieving.

Tommy stood up, eying Joel seriously. He was still the little brother, yeah, but he wouldn’t let Joel make him feel little again. “Just because life stopped for you doesn’t mean it has to stop for me.”

It was probably one of the hardest things he’d ever had to tell him. But Joel had to hear it, even if he didn’t want to.

“We’ll grab some supplies and be outta your hair in the mornin’–“ Joel spat back, clearly not having this. He gestured to the drinks, “Enjoy the rest by yourself.”

He grabbed his jacket then, and left.

(…)

The house was a little farther from the center of town—still within Jackson’s walls, of course, but off the main street, tucked between a cluster of quiet trees and other modest two-story homes. The snow had been cleared from the walkway, but the wind still rustled dry branches above them as Maria led Faith and Ellie toward it, the crunch of their boots on snow the only real sound for a few moments.

It was a bit of an awkward walk. No one really spoke, and Faith found herself once again looking around at the buildings they passed—houses with lights in the windows, smoke curling from chimneys, dogs barking somewhere in the distance. The kind of silence that didn’t feel dangerous. It felt… lived in. She didn’t quite know what to do with that yet.

Maria finally approached a well-kept dark turquoise coloured house. “Here we are,” she said, opening the door with a set of keys she had tucked in her coat pocket. “This one’s just across the street from ours, so if you need anything, it’s not far.”

Faith stepped inside and was immediately hit with a sense of stillness. The air smelled faintly of dust and old fabric—like time had stopped in this house.

“It hasn’t been touched since before the outbreak,” Maria explained as they climbed upstairs, her voice low, almost apologetic. “We cleaned it up, got the heat running. It’s not fancy, but it’s warm. And private.”

At the top of the stairs were three bedrooms, each with a small, adjacent bathroom. One of them had the walls covered in pink and white stripes, and some band posters of groups Faith didn’t know. The other had pale yellow walls and shelves filled with old books, half-covered in dust. Both rooms were surprisingly cozy. A little frozen in time, but comforting in a way Faith didn’t expect. She’d never had her own room.

“There should be everything you need—towels, soap, that kind of thing. Take your time.” Maria smiled gently, and Faith caught the way she glanced at both her and Ellie. Like she was checking for something—maybe signs that they were okay. “When you’re done, I’ll be at my place. Come over when you're ready.”

And then she left, walking back downstairs and pulling the door softly shut behind her.

The house went quiet again.

Ellie had already chosen the room with the music posters and disappeared into her bathroom with a, “Fuck yes, hot water,” as she turned on the tap. Faith lingered for a moment in the hallway, staring at the door, then at the other room.

She finally stepped inside and shut the door gently behind her.

The shower was everything she hadn’t realized she’d been missing. Long. Hot. Clean. She stood there for a while, head tilted back, eyes closed as the water pounded down her spine. She washed away the dirt and blood, the dried sweat of days spent traveling, the bite of cold wind, the invisible layer of fear that clung to her skin like smoke.

When she got out, she found a bathrobe hanging behind the door. It was soft. So soft. She touched it cautiously at first—suspicious, almost—and then slipped it on and was immediately overwhelmed by how warm and comforting it was. She’d never worn anything like it. Not even close. She caught her reflection in the fogged mirror and blinked. For a second, she didn’t quite recognize herself. Damp hair clinging to her face. Eyes no longer shadowed with grime. A little less tense in her own skin.

Back in the bedroom, she realized Maria had been back while she’d been in the shower. She didn’t really know how long she’d been in there, but she hadn’t heard anyone coming it. It had been a long time since had been able to let her guard down like that.

She found clothes laid out neatly on the bed, her old ones gone; Maria had probably taken them, she figured, when she had laid out for her a thick-knit cream coloured sweater, a pair of dark jeans, clean socks, underwear and clean boots. Faith quickly checked that her backpack was still on the stool by the window where she had left it, breathing a bit easier when she saw it intact.

Beside the new clothes, a small cloth pouch containing a menstrual cup, and a note in Maria’s handwriting on a square of lined notebook paper:

"Figured you might need one of these. I'm just across the street—come see me when you're ready."

The clothes didn’t just fit—they felt like something someone would’ve worn before the world ended. The jeans were a little worn at the knees, the sweater soft with age and smell of clean laundry, was one of the most comfortable things she’d ever worn. Whoever they’d belonged to, Faith didn’t know. But she was grateful, in her quiet way.

Dressed and warmer than she’d been in weeks, she wandered around the room slowly, her fingers grazing the dusty spines of the books on the shelf. There was a faded Polaroid tucked into the corner of the mirror—a snapshot of two teenagers, grinning with arms slung around each other’s shoulders.

On the wall above the small desk was a corkboard with pinned-up notes: song lyrics, torn-out magazine pages, a faded to-do list with ‘college apps’ scribbled at the top. Someone had left that room in the middle of planning their future. A future that no longer existed.

Faith stood there for a moment, just taking it in—the arrested momentum, the stillness.

Then her gaze dropped to the desk itself.

Tucked into the corner beneath the corkboard was a small, chunky CD player, the kind with built-in speakers and a few smudged buttons. A wire trailed from the back, plugged into the wall outlet. On impulse, Faith pressed the power button.

To her surprise, the screen flickered to life. It still worked. A soft hum crackled from the speakers.

She pressed play.

The machine whirred and clicked, then suddenly music burst out—louder than she expected, a little warped with age but still clear. The opening chords of a song she didn’t recognize rang through the room.

Where are those happy days, they seem so hard to find…

Faith blinked, startled—but not in a bad way. The voice was bright and aching at the same time. The beat was catchy, poppy, but there was something sharp under the surface.

I try to reach for you, but you have closed your mind…

It felt like a time capsule had cracked open. She didn’t know this song, but the melody caught on something in her chest.

She sat down slowly on the edge of the bed again, eyes drifting to the walls, the corkboard, the shelves. Her damp hair left a small dark patch on the sweater’s shoulder, but she didn’t care. She let the music wash over her.

So when you're near me, darling can't you hear me…

The song seemed a bit too personal. Faith didn’t cry. But for the first time in a long time, she let her body rest without armour. Without tension, letting the music fill up the empty corners.

That was when she heard a knock.

Three light taps on the doorframe, followed by Ellie’s voice: “Dude. Are you seriously listening to ABBA right now?”

Faith glanced up. Ellie leaned against the open door, damp hair down curling at the ends, wearing the clean clothes Maria had left her.

Faith frowned, “What’s ABBA?”

Ellie snorted. “The group singing the song.”

Faith stood, stretching her arms over her head, the sweater lifting slightly with the movement. “I like it,” she shrugged. “I guess not all music is so bad.”

“So… is this your song now?” Ellie asked. “I haven’t forgotten the promise I made. I’m gonna find you a song that’s you through and through.”

Faith laughed a bit, nodding, “I remember, yeah. And no, I don’t think this is ‘my’ song. It’s good, though.”

Ellie nodded, smiling. “Maria left a note that said to come see’er when we’re done.”

“Yeah, I got one too.”

“Did she also leave you one of those menstrual cups things?” she wondered, wide eyed. “I think that’s one of the most disgusting things I’ve ever seen.”

“But useful,” she also thought it was a bit strange, though.

“Guess it is,” she shrugged. “You ready to go?”

Faith glanced back at the CD player. The chorus kicked in again, bold and a little mournful.

When you're gone, though I try how can I carry on…

She turned it off gently.

“Yeah,” she said. “Let’s go.”

(…)

Ellie and Faith crossed the quiet street side by side, their new boots crunching softly over the snow-dusted pavement. It was still early afternoon, but the neighborhood was quiet—peaceful in a way that felt both unfamiliar and a little unreal.

Maria and Tommy’s looked similar to the rest: two stories, wood-paneled, with a porch light flickering softly against the snow gathering on the steps.

Faith reached the door first, knocking gently.

“Hello?”

Ellie pushed the door by the handle, not finding any resistance. It was unlocked, so they stepped inside.

“Maria?”

The difference between this house and the one they’d been given was immediate.

The air inside was warmer, but not just in temperature. It smelled faintly of something cozy and real—maybe wood polish, maybe someone’s shampoo, maybe the trace of a cooked meal earlier that day. A small rug was slightly askew in the entryway, like someone had kicked their boots off in a hurry. A jacket was hung over the banister instead of neatly on a hook. The soft hum of the heating system was accompanied by the occasional creak of settling floorboards.

This was a home, a place that was lived in, not just a house.

They stepped cautiously into the living room, which branched off the front hallway to the left. It was modest but welcoming. Mismatched cushions on the couch. A half-knitted scarf resting in a basket near the coffee table. On the mantel above the fireplace, there was a small chalkboard, worn but carefully cleaned. And on it, written in careful blocky handwriting, were two names along with different dates underneath:

Kevin: 4/3/00 – 9/29/03

Sarah: 7/20/89 – 9/27/03

Faith’s breath caught.

Ellie tilted her head. “Huh.”

They didn’t say anything else for a long moment. The names on the chalkboard stood out starkly, white on black, like a memorial. Faith didn’t know who Kevin or Sarah were, nor did Ellie. They assumed they had been the couple’s children.

The sound of the back door opening made both of them turn.

Maria stepped into view, brushing snow off her shoulders and carrying two bulky coats folded over her arm.

“Ah, good,” she said, spotting them. “Just traded for this.”

Maria approached the girls, handing each of them a coat to try on. Ellie’s was deep purple whereas Faith’s was a deep forest green. “Managed to get you both something a little thicker for the cold,” she said. “Fits?”

“Uh, yeah…” Ellie glanced down at herself, clearly unamused. “It’s super fuckin’ purple.”

“Eggplant. Fits right?” Maria asked again.

“… Yeah.”

“Yours?” Maria looked at Faith with her eyebrows raised.

“It’s all right,” she answered a bit awkwardly. “Uh… Thank you.”

“It’s no problem,” the woman nodded. “Shoes are good too?”

Both girls nodded.

“Where’s our other stuff?”

“Rag pile,” she answered simply. “Did you get the things I left you both?”

“Yeah… Probably the weirdest gift ever.”

Maria laughed a bit, then reached out to touch one of Faith’s long strands of hair.

“Who’s been cuttin’ your hair?”

“World-class salons, obviously,” answered Ellie quickly. “Only the best of the best.”

The woman chuckled, saying something about going to grab her scissors to give them a trim. No room for debate.

That’s how they found themselves in Maria’s kitchen fifteen minutes later, Ellie sitting with a towel on her shoulders while Maria stood behind her trimming her locks, Faith sitting at the table close by sipping on some warm tea. Sweet and tasteful tea, for once, not like the raw pine needle or hawthorn berries tea they usually had for the last few months.

“So this was like, your job back then or something?”

“No,” answered Maria, carding her fingers through Ellie’s hair softly. “I was an Assistant District Attorney out of Omaha, Nebraska. I put bad guys in jail.”

Ellie hummed, “Cool, I guess.” Faith thought so too.

“I always liked doing hair, though,” added the woman as she kept on snipping the ends of Ellie’s hair even. “Maybe it was a mom thing.”

Faith glanced over at the living room, at the memorial board they had seen.

Oh.

So she had lost someone, too.

“Sorry about your kids,” she mumbled, her hands gripping the warm tea cup for comfort.

“It’s okay, thank you,” Maria smiled warmly at her, in a kind of maternal way Faith could clearly recognize. “And kid. Just Kevin.”

There were two names on the memorial, though. Maria quickly cleared it up:

“Sarah was Joel’s daughter.”

Both Ellie and Faith went completely still.

The soft snipping sound of the scissors paused, and for a long moment, the warmth of the kitchen was eclipsed by the shock that fell over the table like a weighted blanket.

“ –Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything…”

“No—” Ellie was the first to speak. She kept still in her chair, soaking in the new information. “It’s okay.”

She looked at Faith, but she was staring at her tea, her hands suddenly cold despite the warmth of the cup.

Sarah was Joel’s daughter.

She didn’t look up. She felt like she couldn’t.

In her chest, something was moving—shifting. Sliding into place.

All this time. All the little moments. All the ways Joel had looked at them—at her, at Ellie. The way he always walked on the outside of the sidewalks even if there weren’t any cars, or always going ahead of them when clearing a house or abandoned shop. The way he always made sure they had food before he touched his own. The way he’d wordlessly stepped in between them and danger, every time. The way he flinched when Ellie had gotten sick. The way he’d cared for Faith when she was nearly dying from pneumonia, jaw clenched like the pain was his.

The way he’d looked at them when he thought they weren’t watching.

She’d known Joel was carrying something heavy. Had felt it like a shadow around him since the first day they met. But she had never known what it was. Never asked.

Now she knew.

Sarah. A daughter. Gone.

Faith pressed her hand to her chest without thinking, as if that would calm her breath. She swallowed, hard.

Joel had lost a child.

No wonder he’d been so cautious. So guarded. So reluctant to get close—and yet, somehow, unable to help himself when it came to them.

No wonder he seemed to understand Faith’s pain when she told him about losing her sister and her mother. This entire time, he’d known what it felt like to love someone like that—and to lose them.

Faith blinked quickly and looked up, her voice quieter than before. “She… she must’ve been really young.”

Maria looked over at her. “She was fourteen.”

Silence.

Ellie let out a breath through her nose, finding it hard to keep still. “Jesus.”

She could picture a younger Joel, a little less worn down, maybe smiling a little more. Carrying a girl on his shoulders, holding her hand as they crossed the street, tucking her into bed. She could picture the moment it all went wrong. And she didn’t want to. She really didn’t.

Joel wasn’t the type to talk about pain if he could keep it buried. They knew that pretty well by now. Faith understood. She did the same… until she had met Joel and Ellie.

“Guess that explains him a little,” said Ellie, thoughtful.

Maria looked at both girls, sighing heavily, “Look, I’m not gonna ask you what you’re doing with him–“ Ellie interrupted with a small defensive ‘good’ but Maria kept on talking. “But there are clearly things you don’t know about Joel.”

It was again Ellie who spoke up first. “Like how he used to kill people? We know all about that.”

“So then you understand my concern about two young girls travelling alone with a man like Joel…”

“– He doesn’t do that anymore,” intervened Faith, finally.

“He stopped killing people?”

“Innocent ones, sure,” both her and Ellie had seen Joel murder infected and fight off the crazy people in Kansas City. Each one of them deserved to end their days the way they did.

“Tommy did it too, didn’t he? Are you worried about him?

“… Tommy was following Joel.”

“That’s some shitty argument –” said Faith, growing defensive.

“– Just the way you two are now.”

Both Ellie and Faith had had to kill people to survive, too. Did that make them instantly bad, too?

“Well maybe we are smarter than Tommy, no offense.”

Maria finished cutting Ellie’s hair then, leaving the scissors on the kitchen counter. She leaned against the sink, looking at both girls with an intense gaze.

“There’s a whole lot you’re not telling me.”

“No offense, but we’ve just met you today,”

“Good,” Maria smiled at Faith. “Therein lies the point. Be careful who you put your faith in. The only people who can betray us, are the ones we trust. You understand?”

Ellie hummed, Faith too.

“Now come on then,” she took the towel around Ellie’s shoulders off, looking at Faith. “Your turn.”

Faith didn’t move an inch. She did shake her head at the woman, though.

“No thanks,” she refused. “I can cut my hair myself.”

“There’s no weakness in accepting some help from time to time.”

It wasn’t about weakness, though. It was about so much more.

The last time someone had cut Faith’s hair, it had been her mother. After she died, her father didn’t bother with it. They were too busy not getting killed by raiders, infected or FEDRA, anyways. Soon after, he and Dahlia died too… And from then on, only when her hair got too long would Faith cut it with anything she could find, resulting in the uneven rough ends she had now.

She couldn’t let someone else touch her hair, not just like that.

So she refused again.

And even though Maria was a very practical woman, she was not heartless. When she sensed Faith wouldn’t give in, she nodded, accepting her defeat with grace.

“Let’s go get your coats on then,” she proposed, nudging Ellie out of her chair. “We’re going out.”

“Where?”

“The movies,” she answered simply.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @kitdjarin1@christinamadsen@abtjudex@hongjoong-titties@cokoladasljesnjakom

[denniscup]

PolderGoud Festival 2018 → 2019

Role: Co-founder & Creative-/Marketing Lead

When we launched PolderGoud in the Haarlem Waarderpolder in 2018, our dream was to create a one-day urban playground where guitars, craft beer and sustainability could live under one (industrial) roof.

• 2018 pilot – 517 hardy souls defied the rain for a first edition packed with local heroes.

• The vibe: crowdsurfing in the courtyard, street-art pop-ups, recycled-wood signage and a DJ booth built from scaffolding planks.

⸻

Growing the gold — 2019 edition

I steered the festival into a formal non-profit foundation, rewrote the project plan, doubled the creative budget and secured new partnerships:

Creative direction New space-age identity (spaceships & astronauts). Illustration by Jelle Elferink.

Modular stage décors by 20Tree made entirely from reclaimed timber. 

Programming Locked in a genre-blending line-up: Tony Clifton · 45 Acid Babies · Guyy · Abdomen · KIEFF · Donnie plus talks with Mozes and the Firstborn, Baloji, Mauskovic Dance Band and more. 

Partnerships • Uiltje Brewing → 1,000 l. of PolderGoud Pilsener in custom cans for a guerrilla roll-out across Haarlem’s bars. • Je Suis Energy (stage management & crew) • Geertruida Records (curated the indie corner) • Spaarnelanden, Showgroup, Friethoes, Volcom and the Municipality for circular ops. 

Marketing & media 360° content plan with daily IG stories, Facebook live sessions from the brewery, Spotify playlists and PR pushes via Haerlems Bodem, 3voor12 NH and KINK radio.

Sustainability Hard-cup system, waste-sorting crews (Groen Mug), green power hook-ups and a CO₂-scan by De Groene Lobby. 

Projected impact for 7 September 2019:

1,000+ visitors · Reach 50k+ locals online · Break-even at €50 k with 25 % early-bird sell-out.

⸻

A golden moment I missed - but helped make happen

On the very morning load-in started, my wife went into labour. While our crew fired up the stage lights, my son was born and I watched the festival I’d spent a year crafting unfold via WhatsApp clips and backstage selfies.

“It felt surreal: hearing Tony Clifton kick off while holding a newborn. The ultimate proof that the right team, vision and partnerships can run the show - even when the founder can’t be there.”

PolderGoud now lives on as a template for home-grown, circular micro-festivals in Haarlem, and a personal reminder that sometimes the biggest headline act arrives in the maternity ward.

What I owned

• Creative direction & visual language – logo, colour system, motion toolkit, merch & way-finding.

• Full-funnel marketing – organic socials, paid ads, OOH, PR and a street-team programme that pushed 95 % of ticket sales through Instagram & Facebook.

• Content leadership – briefing photo/video crews, editing daily highlight reels, writing copy for press and partners.

• Team & stakeholder management – 30+ volunteers, suppliers and city authorities; weekly stand-ups and a live “war-room” playbook on show day.

What it taught me

1. A festival is a start-up on a stopwatch. Every choice (artist drop, poster release, sponsor asset) lives or dies by timing.

2. Write it down or lose it. Clear docs, Kanban boards and live check-lists kept 50+ moving parts visible for the whole team.

3. Radical transparency wins. Daily huddles and honest status updates meant no surprises for partners or crew.

4. Prioritise or perish. Nice-to-haves vanish fast when budgets or minutes run out; focus on what the audience will actually feel.

5. Culture first, commerce follows. By spotlighting local flavour and emerging talent we earned authentic engagement — then sponsors, beer collabs and media followed naturally.

[literaturereviewhelp]

The Modern World and Australia Stage: 5 i) A brief profile of the Student The student whose work sample is being analysed is in Grade 5 having started learning history since Early Stage 1. It’s too unfortunate that much of the student’s details are missing from the work sample but it is evident that the student has completed grade 9 and graduated to grade 10. This therefore places the student in stage 5 which happens to be the final stage in the History K – 10 (Board of Studies NSW, 2012). The student clearly demonstrates that she has masterly of the contents of Global History particularly on the topic of “The Industrial Revolution (1750–1914)”. The student’s quest for knowledge about human nature and actions has probably led to the insatiable interest manifested in the student’s work. ii) Analysis of the Student’s work sample This term paper will analyse the Student’s work and how it demonstrates the literacy and syllabus demands of Year 10 Stage 5 Global History (Feez & Joyce, 2012). According to the syllabus, Year 10 students are expected to have developed knowledge and skills enough to enable them to communicate their understanding of history (Derewianka & Jones, 2012). While doing this, the students must be capable of using the English language correctly. In line with this, the student under investigation displays his knowledge of Global History within this text. This is illustrated in his attempt to write a descriptive report; a genre to organize information and commonly used in primary schools (Jones & Lock, 2011). This skill was achieved in class through literacy learning at former stages, which was necessary to allow students complete some assignments before commencing work on the topic. Students were asked to complete this task as an assignment within a given timeframe of a fortnight. The student’s description of Industrial Revolution demonstrates his knowledge of Global History as well as his ability to ‘recognise the contributions of Industrial Revolution to the current state of living standards in the world including his capability to learn language’ (Barton, 2007). The information is basic, yet informative; the sentences describe Industrial Revolution and the ‘chains of reference do not become too complex to bring confusion’ (Derewianka & Jones, 2012). Additionally, the stage of the text achieves its purpose. Considering the structure of the Student’s work, the sample adheres to the scaffold of a descriptive report: posing a question to inform the inquiry and then description (Axford et al, 2009). Moreover, the length of the report is within the confines of a description. Whichever text type is deemed appropriate; the structure achieves the social purpose of informing and describing Industrial Revolution. Considering the mode in which the text is written, it is noticed that the text is quite cohesive and of proper grammar (Jones & Lock, 2011). The Student thus uses very simple language of correct grammar considering the type of text. Each sentence flows from the text opener to the description and ends perfectly with a closer in accordance with findings by Barton (2007). The text’s cohesiveness is emphasized by the effective use of language devices, such as referring words like “closed” toilets. The grammar of the text is not so perfect even though it can pass as spoken English. This is exemplified by part of the sentence: “….went to live in Metropolitan areas in search for work” is incorrect. But all in all, the Student uses language features that are reminiscent of a Grade 10 Stage 5 student with very minimal mistakes. Read the full article

[indiantradebird11]

Scaffolding Wheel Hire On Rent in Noida – J K Timber Mart

Scaffolding wheel solutions offer the perfect blend of strength, versatility, and user-friendliness, ensuring your scaffolding systems can be effortlessly moved around the job site. With our tailored rental services, you can easily find scaffolding wheel on hire options designed to meet the unique needs of your project. Renting scaffolding wheels with us eliminates the burden of a long-term investment while providing you with reliable, durable equipment. Each scaffolding wheel is regularly inspected for safety and functionality, guaranteeing top-notch performance for every task. These wheels feature a 360-degree rotation, allowing scaffolding to maneuver easily around corners and obstacles. For applications requiring stability, the locking casters ensure scaffolding stays stationary. This feature is especially vital when working on uneven surfaces, as it enhances safety and prevents accidental movement. By choosing scaffolding wheel on rent from us, you gain access to premium-quality equipment without incurring the costs of ownership. Our rental service is backed by dependable maintenance support to ensure you receive the most reliable solutions for your needs.

For More Details Clicks Here - https://www.scaffoldingrental.co.in/noida/scaffolding-wheel/ITB-0E1638ED

[jkscaffolding]

J K Scaffolding's Cuplock System and Material Rentals in Bangalore The Cuplock system is a versatile and widely used scaffolding solution known for its simplicity, strength, and adaptability. With JK Scaffolding's Cuplock system on rent in Bangalore, contractors gain access to a robust scaffolding solution suitable for a wide range of construction projects. The system's unique design features cup-shaped locks that securely connect vertical and horizontal components, allowing for quick assembly and disassembly while ensuring stability and safety at elevated heights. For more details visit here :- https://jkscaffolding.wordpress.com/2024/02/06/j-k-scaffoldings-cuplock-system-and-material-rentals-in-bangalore/

[wammys-house-a]

Page CXXI  ⎯  Secrets

Awoke 5:49  ⎯  Late again.

  Another promise to myself broken

 The room is faded in dawn's bleaching white radiance.

  Spring's heat raises from the folds of my sheets, the collar of my shirt, sweat trickles down my spine as I breath slow, shallow. 

   Luminated dust meets my slumber-drunk vision, floating on my breath, flickering like earth bound stars, like sparkling embers from dragon maws, burning through my dreams.

 ⎯  The illusion is still on my fingertips...

   But slipping away like sand though a glass, 

  In my dreams,

   our home was lit by an unseen power. 

   The walls unmarred by the feeds of electric lines, without outlets, the lamps glowed on golden perches like pygmy suns. I had not believed B, when he said it was the result of a tsuki-mono, a curse passed down through  b l o o d l i n e s...

   But when he held one of the glowing orbs in his hands and I looked into the ivory light, I saw there was nothing there to keep it alive... 

At the heart of this structure, the source of it’s power.

      ⎯   Beneath the house, a secret .

  Ecclesiastical fenestrations cast prismic light into the scaffold ribs like captive rainbows but could not penetrate the underbelly, where stone walls wept ⎯ windowless, their long alleys, narrowed like spires until they converged to a single door  . . .

           Behind it,    truth.  

  B led me down, down into the quiet core where the tear drop lanterns grew dim and died in the night held hostage in our home’s roots. We groped along the walls together, blind but emboldened by the other’s company until he found   it  and pushed open the door.

   Within ⎯  a curtain of light bleed inexplicably from the basement ceiling, like daylight piercing a forest canopy. 

  Resting beneath it’s glimmering veil was a long, polished  b o x  perched on spiraling iron legs that penetrated the concrete floor like the roots of Methuselah. 

    ⎯    Richly veined, it’s scarlet mahogany surface was like that of the floorboards in the halls above, making the  c o f f i n  both familiar and as disquietingly foreign as friend that one has not seen in many years.

    As I drew up to it’s side, my perspective shifted as though I was sinking imperceptibly into the ground, until my line of sight was even with the base of the smooth varnished lip. 

I was suddenly small... Like a child.

    I pressed my weight onto my toes and reaching out blindly, my fingers meeting the chilly facade of the closed lid.

   Dust or static created a strange, phantom-velvet texture, overlaying the polished surface beneath my touch. 

Then, I glided them down,   d o w n

  until my fingers met an indentation . . .

      ⎯  The edges sharp as engraved stone.

  Foreboding grew as I followed the carved line, it enlarging, 

  e l o n g a t i n g , 

            the size of it traced beneath my fingers,  a trail that for an instant I thought might stretch all the way to the foot to crease down it’s throat  ⎯       

           But then ...  I felt it curve ,    slope .

    It was an answer waiting.

         What   l e t t e r   was cut  into the wood⎯ ?

   Startling awake, I opened by eyes to the shimmering sunlight that had penetrated my dreams ... 

 My body, hot and aching with words left unsaid,

       ⎯  " ... I don't want to know . . . "

   ⎯   11:13

   Can I even call what he is doing to me betrayal?

  The desperate hammering of my heart is the same ear filling thump, coming hard against the door as I hid behind it’s brass lock ⎯  Backup’s heel; the buckling, booming rattle of his rage in the background of my agonizing desire to  

just.  

       be.   

                   a l o n e  . . .

                I suppose, I may finally have it. 

This is my fault.    

   In my desperation to delay the end of this game we've spent half our lives playing, I lost sight of my principles. Perhaps, my escalating insincerity and his giftedness, made this ultimately inevitable.

Experience has left me few doubts of his semi-clairvoyance but only now am I considering what his precision implies...

  That there is a fated nature to it all. 

  That I never had a chance.

 It took two ego-bruising weeks, driving my exhaustion bone-deep, before I began to consider that the passion that had sustained me for nearly two decades was fading. My spirit had withered with the effort to reach it more depleting. I began to wonder, if I simply wasn’t good enough to solve this one. 

    Just as despair took hold of me, B's index finger came uninvited over my shoulder and pressed into the screen ⎯ creating a rippling prismatic bulls-eye over one photograph in a sea of over one-hundred-twenty.

 The answer.   The next fatality.

 He handed it to me, without having asked.

 ⎯  Cooperation is forbidden;  it complicates the variables and the validity of the existing hierarchy, it obscures where our loyalties truly lie... 

     I knew it and took it anyway.

      Because I am not who I should be.

   They wouldn’t be questioning him now, if I had not created a trail in retrospect, justifing my  intuition . 

    A thread of truth could be enough to hang me.

   Facing the possibility of losing all that anchors me, I am  on the precipice of a terrible epiphany — choking on the question;  ⎯  " Where does the person I’m trying to be end, and who I am begin ? "  

    I once believed that who I was could be distilled down to it’s essence, that if the parts that did not matter could be cut away;

    the fingers that brace me,

    the feet that carry me,

     the sight that leads me --

   What was left would be  me  ,  a tiny piece of the universe that had becoming miraculously and unmercifully aware of itself...   And, that I could never truly lose myself.

    I am beginning to doubt that.

   And with a fascinated horror, I am beginning to realize that I simply don't know how to be anything other than what I have been trying to be for the last seven years... I don't think I would know who I was if everything but my life was taken from me.

`

   Staring down the barrel of a derelict future, the prospect of my life coming to an abrupt end is disconcertingly comforting...

    Actually,     in the darkness of a loss of this depth,   the alleys that pave the way to massacres are unnervingly clear ...

   and I don't know if who I am beneath Alternative is above  k i l l i n g    y o u    a l l  ...

      That prospect is no longer unthinkable.

    I once asked a senior pathologist if the difficulty of dismembering a body was a limiting factor for suspects, to which they warned me to be careful of assumptions because   almost  anyone  is capable of  almost  anything — given enough time and determination.

    It is particularly poient in this moment as I contemplate how long it would take me to pick all your locks and strangle you in your sheets ...

  Slip thallium into the soup, listen to you all miserably puking out your corroding insides as metallic venom slithers into your brains before they can get it  o u t.

     Trace the opulent halls with ignition fluid following up to your doors with you barricaded inside ... praying for smoke to coat your lungs, to smother you from the inside.

       Watch B crawl out to see the carnage.

      see it dawn on him that this is no accident,

      see a genuine response  — unadulterated by his intellect or prevarication — just raw, bleeding instinct from this animal I've called my friend, becoming at once so mortal and so equal to me, that we can end this era of our lives together in violently, intimate truth ...

   Maybe you would understand, if everything you were was on the brink of utter erasure. You might find that you aren’t who you thought you were either.

  The truth is, I am afraid that if I cannot have it, I can't find it within me to recognize that I owe it to my species, to civilization itself, to let B take it from me.

     Not in this way.

      I don't know how I thought this would ultimately end,   If B would wrench victory from me or if I would wait on a tragedy to eliminate my part in all of this...

  But not betrayal, not when it's my fault.

   I think I was resigned to carry forward indefinitely,   — losing pieces of who I thought I was to the current I've been fighting against,  believing that if I only kept going, and never stopped, I might outrun regret and what could have been.

  Maybe I believed I would rekindle faith again — in myself, in this path, in leaving a better world for the next  A .

  Maybe a world one step closer to not needing an L at all.

 If nothing had stopped me, one day there would have been nothing left but Alternative.  He is not a mask one can take off when it becomes inconvenient, he is a skin you sew yourself into slowly, until his integrity is what's keeping you intact..  A has become a deathbed I realized too late I was making.

        But,  it isn't that I never thought of leaving.

   I could walk away...

   Wandering like a ghost, unhindered by past or societal taxonomy, exempt from the yokes placed on young men to make them whatever is most useful; armed with bibles or guns or shovels to do what needs to be done.

  But, my freedom is overshadowed by the total absence of certainty, my purpose swallowed up by a life concentrated on survival. — Adrift, I know there will be no rescue when any there was lies six feet under and rotting.

        I have no one.       I am no one.

  I know many resent their safety nets while accept cliff sides nesting sleepless vipers. I don't envy them, despite being in freefall myself.     —  At least, I don't have to go home to fight more battles than those I am already losing... 

   That is why I don't resent Wammy's House.

 This path spared me what will haunt so many others — I've no memories captured in the immoral chirons of media posts or infinite digital clouds.

 The voices and faces that once comforted me have been slowly pulled ever-deeper into my conciousness, my mind quietly eating itself alive,   —  

the way nature intended

   I never had the opportunity to agonize over unwashed sheets, holding the last trace of their scent, because there was nothing left for me to hold onto.

  My loss left no footprints for me to follow.

  All I have is the implicit memory of sunlit lilies draped over searing black coffins and the lingering hope that it would mean something ... someday.

 Maybe that's why this is so hard to give up.

   I don't want it all to amount to nothing.

     I have become nothing but    t h i s  , now.

        I am nothing without   t h i s . 

        If he takes everything from me,

         I will leave L nothing to salvage.

I don't want my motives misconstrued.

   What I will  do  with the Backup does not make him collateral damage in my private catastrophe.

                   He is   not   a martyr.

 I am not inspired by a hatred of B for his opportunism,

   It is not that he doesn't deserve victory, it is that, if he turns on me now, he has proven he has no honor.

  An L without honor is a monster of limitless evil.

  I am recovering my friend's body

   and incidentally sparing you an incomparable tyranny.

  I cannot speculate on how Wammy's has shaped B's psyche, but he has always had a recusant character  ... and he knows I can keep a secret.

⎯  "Why did you do it?..."    He sucks his teeth at the question as though there's room for doubt, as though he could delude me too.   ⎯  "You didn't have a good time at the party, Alt’ ?"  I watched him begin idly digging into his coat, the collar billowing around his face, his complexion is a sickly pale against it’s dark grey tweed   ⎯   "You've gone too far this time. "  He knew it, but I wanted nothing to be ambiguous about where I stood.     ⎯   “You're not taking this seriously. Someone could have been killed. You could have been, I could have been- What is wrong with you? ”   He pulled something from his slacks and only when he struck it against his heel did I recognize it was a match. He shook his head at my indictment but gave no indication of noticing that I had taken a step back.    ⎯   “No, you wouldn’t.”   His face turns, dark lashes casting sleepy shadows over the clinquant daylight caught in his eyes.     I'm struck by how young he looks    For a fleeting instant, I'm acutely aware that the teenager I'm standing next to is the same boy that played hide and seek with me in the meadow, long before we cared where this path was leading us.   And, I am scared that if he turns a meager smile on me, I might forget all the heart ache he's caused. I might remember ... what it felt like to meet my wild-eyed friend at the fenceline and escape what brought us here, immerse ourselves in a world far away from the homesickness and disappointed adults and the fear of what would come apart next. When our hands would meet on the sun-warmed bars, metal and skin becoming homogenized heat that bound rather than separated us in a way that felt timeless to my seven year old senses, when it never crossed my mind that one day our fingers would grow too big to fit between the gaps...     Standing together on the grassy nole, the breeze combs tender fingers through my hair and I sigh quietly as we watched the dining hall being assessed for damages, the smoldering aftermath of what should have been a re-birthday now the scene of a bottle rocket's explosion.     The blossoming, radiant morning rang with shrill alarms and the sharp scent of flash powder like heaven at war.    B lit a cigarette and perched it on his lip,   allowing the silence that fell between us tell me everything I needed to know.   Outrage swelled within me like a rising tide.  He didn't think I deserved an explanation, I'm just another pawn caught up in whatever game he's playing,

     ⎯   "Why are you-?...           Are you trying to tick me off ? !" He inhaled.      soft, unruffled. 

      Uncaring.   Not even meeting my eyes.   ⎯  "You are .... your most endearing when you're angry, you know that?"  His words carried on the smoke exiting his lungs, mirroring that pouring out of our home's windows between crashing booms.        — "Direct and honest. ... For once. The right girl will appreciate that about you, you should stop wasting time and find her."   He smiled around the smoldering stick in that way he does when he knows he's made a clever move and wants to say without saying ‘what now?’   I could viscerally feel my flushed rage. He's the only person I know that can belittle me with such a thorny effect, making me feel petulant and ridiculous for expecting anything from him, like he owes me.  ⎯  "You'll put yourself into an early gave with those, B."   I wanted it to be true.    I want to spite him.

Maybe I want him to die right now.   If one of the agents mistook us for intruders and shot him here in the blood-velvet reeds, then my company would be all he had. Then, maybe, he would appreciate that I’m here and what that really means, in spite of it all.    Instead, B pulls the cigarette from his lips and flicks it against his fingers, letting ash fall like loose petals to the breeze.    Careless.    —  "Ironic you would say that ..."   Cryptic.  It's as though he wants to rile me up. He should know by now where he is provocative, I am unrelenting — because I have to be, because I have to survive him.   In my periphery, I take notice of the unfamiliar security moving in our direction and feel a twinge of fear that I should be more careful of what I wish for.  But I don't move, there's nowhere to go and I admit there is an unexpected ounce of relief in the approaching danger. Though I'm not certain where it's from...  — "There are so many... did they bring them here for us? Do you think it has to do with the bioterror case?"  ⎯  " I considered that."    He said with another flick of his cigarette.  —  " But, there's not enough unrest.         No lock down, no interrogations, no medical testing, no travel bans. We’re going head-long into this, it's inevitable. It's a matter of when, not if, but we aren’t there yet... I warned him— about K, about X, about Y— but he won't listen.      I did it, so when this is all over, he'll know I was right and he was wrong."    "He's unreachable..."

—  "He is. But, he would notice I breached security and slipped into his case files and left him a puzzle to follow. If he pieced it together, he knows someone's predicted who won't make it out of this alive."   More than the fire and the guards, I am astonished by his lack of concern for self-preservation.    "Christ— He might think you're part of it!"  — "Maybe. Maybe that's why they are here, because as far as I can see I've either failed or he was never here to begin with."   Bewilderment is followed by a surge of understanding that spreads over me like ice water,     "You did this to flush L out..."         ⎯ " P r o r s u s. "    Exactly.

This is what it feels like to wait for the end of the world  Only for it not to happen...         —    B said nothing.     Battling a remarkably bloodless gratitude, I stumble to find something to say — anything in my lightheaded shock that's replaced the black-buzzing distress... but nothing comes.    He begins to walk away, just as  thank you  begins to form unsteadily in my throat, but there emerges the smallest prick of dissatisfaction at this outcome that leaves me feeling too ashamed of being ungrateful to speak above a whisper .        ... it's a macabre disappointment.     I realize I have been holding onto a poisonous hope that B would show his true colours, that I would be exempt from our abiding alliance, I would have enough reason to take control, —  that my end would be a turning point, that I could choose to burn it all down and not be fated to disappear quietly...      Now, I've returned to the same indecision that will most likely lead to exactly that.       But...  I cannot ponder further how I may outmeuver fate, why he chose to continue a more difficult path with me as an obstacle, nor confront the calamitous fear lurking within me —   I cannot risk the possibility that this will ever be seen.   I cannot justify condemning us both,       though that was my original intention.    In the end,    I didn't want my last chapter written by speculators.  I didn't want the flaws in their design to go unaddressed, the way they must remain while I'm alive to suffer the consequences of failed propriety.        I wanted them to know why.   Now, no one can know these things ...       I'm afraid that no one ever will,         that by the time the real end arrives,           I will not recognize it's here... 

   Of all the secrets I've kept, I think those that I know will die with me terrify me the most. 

[tiscomics]

How to Survive Black Friday: A Retailer's War Plan

My name is Devin Thomas, Store Manager of HaulMart in Newport, Oregon. In 2017 we lost 3 employees to the Day. I have prepared a war plan for the 2018 battle. I share it here with you so that you may order your ranks and brandish your store’s defenses appropriately. There are consequences to neglecting to prepare for Black Friday, so let this serve as a blueprint for how to survive it.

I dedicate this plan of action to the 2017 fallen, taken by Black Friday Shopping hordes despite our mighty garrison and armament:

Robert in home appliances, God rest his soul

Marty in kitchen supplies, God rest his soul

Jenny at checkout, God rest her soul.

The New War Plan follows.

Plan for surviving Black Friday

1) Armor: Prepping the soldiery

This is war. Your army is only as strong as your soldier employees, and armor can go a long way in preparing them for battle.

Head: Construction helmets are O-K, but ideal head protection is a hockey helmet (with grill) and accompanying neck guard. Goggles beneath this as well as a 3M facepiece respirator to guard against Shopper mania contamination is recommended.

Torso: Your store’s sports section should have sufficient football shoulder pads.

Legs: Hockey goalie pads for employees on the ground. Carhartt over soccer shin guards for the spotters.

Feet: Steel-toed boots should be sufficient for most employees, offering a balance between speed and protection. For stationary positions, make them tanks by donning ski boots.

Hands: Dexterity will be crucial for communication, so wear work gloves from the home improvement section.

2) Front door: First line of defense

The front door is a critical choke point. Tragically, it must be opened to get business.

Garrison: Position the burliest employees at this point. Our gardening department was ill-equipped to the task in 2017, and several remain in comas to this day.

Rampart: Replace motion-activated doors with inward-swinging ones. This will allow the pushing weight of the Shopper mass to immediately enter the store  once unlocked. It is crucial to let the flow of Shoppers in at once so as not to cause a stampede that only infuriates the Shopper.  Avoid use of revolving doors at all cost–remember the lessons of “Guillotine” Galveston Target, 2013.

Drawbridge: Ensure employees manning this position train for quick-release and retreat of the locking mechanism. We estimate half a second between lock drop and suffocation by trampling. If this threshold cannot be trained for, construct the Gorilla tape and cable unlocking system (Appendix A.)

3) Aisle funnel: Control the heave

Surviving Black Friday is a matter of directing the flow of the Shopper mass such that build-ups do not result in employee casualties.

Formation: The aisles must be positioned in rank and file perpendicular to the entrance wall. The Shopper mass must be sliced like a paper shredder to file neatly down an aisle nearest them after fanning out from the entry. This must occur before they have time to consider a change in direction.

Garrison: At the head of each aisle place an employee–these should be the tallest and have the throatiest, loudest voices. They will divide the flow down flanking aisles. Do not use megaphones–your soldiers need both arms to stem the onslaught, and they should be harnessed to the aisle scaffold so as not to be swept into the flow.

Signage: Black Friday deals should be anticipated and then clearly marked in order to confuse the flow into breaking up evenly into the aisles. Do not place all the most desired products in the same aisle as employees will surely die (distribute electronics products to multiple aisles).

4) Eyes in the sky: Black Friday communication

Communication. That is how your employees will get out of Black Friday alive. Communicate using 2-way radios with Bluetooth earbuds so that those on the ground will not have cords yanked from their ears and rendered blind among the heave.

Battlements: Surveillance cameras are not enough. Construct ramparts atop the ends of the aisles. We recommend curtain walls of Pampers. This birds-eye view of the battle below will allow spotters to communicate pressure points that need immediate alleviation.

Garrison: Employees who weigh least should man these positions to lessen the chance of shelving collapse (wrapping department usually has small folk). In case the Shopper mass topples aisles, the smaller the employees up top the lighter their fall.

Order of battle: Spotters will communicate to runners on the ground who battle the currents to reach those pressure points, solve disputes if possible or put down aggressors using plungers laced with chloroform.

5) Armament: Distraction techniques

The Shopper mass will attack both itself and your employees. Shopper mania is contagious and will likely escalate in intensity for all the herd by measure of the single most psychopathic Shopper among them.

Relief: All employees should be equipped with marbles. In a crunch, marbles will clear a path for the employee to escape over the slipped Shoppers.

Suppression: Eyes in the sky will be equipped with sport rifles loaded with tranquilizer darts. They will fire these on the Alpha Psychos to control levels of rage.

Hail-Mary: Readily-accessible fire alarms should be available should an employee be near death. If these cannot be installed, fire extinguishers should be made available to smote the excitable mass into retreat.

6) Checkout: Check the rout

Retailers are in this for the money. Surviving Black Friday should not take precedent over making money. Even a Shopper retreat cannot be allowed to result in stolen merchandise. Unfortunately, many employee deaths occur at this stage in Black Friday battles.

Garrison: On Black Friday, the same burly fellows who open the gates should man the checkout along with a double team of employees armed with card readers.

Battlement: Turn off the conveyor belt and instead mount kitchen stools on Lazy Susan’s here. This will give a wide field of view. Just below and behind this the double team should squat with card readers at the ready.

Weapons: Potato guns can be easily constructed with parts from your store’s plumbing section. Load up on cheap russet potatoes. This will be the last defense against fleeing shoplifters. Shoot the merch from Shoppers arms if they have not paid. Say the Lord’s Prayer before the battle begins as statistically speaking at least one of your burly defenders will perish.

7) Rear action: Last resort

It is not beyond the realm of possibility that the entire workforce gets cornered in the back of the store by a resolute and cohesive mob. It is rare, but it can happen, especially if your store’s Black Friday deals built an expectation of promised products that quickly sold out.

Garrison: If this part of the Black Friday survival guide war plan is relevant to you, then half of your ranks have fallen.

Fortification: The “Authorized Personnel Only” sign will only hold back the Shopper mass for a few minutes at this stage. Ensure that sufficient material is available in the back to bar the door (we recommend using chains and padlocks, and electrifying the door’s access with a power generator.)

De-escalation: To avoid repetition of Black Friday fails like the Fried Flagstaff K-Mart Employees of 2015, ensure that all combustible products were removed from the shelves before the Day. At this point, offer a further % off to all Shoppers. If this fails, offer free everything in exchange for your lives. If this is rejected, say the Lord’s Prayer rocking back and forth, or if you are atheist, just rock back and forth.

Preparing for next year’s Black Friday

This guide should be a pragmatic resource for retailers on how to survive Black Friday Shopper mayhem. Each year brings a new dynamic, and it is important to adapt to new challenges. Last year it was Bluetooth speakers. This year… curved TVs. May God have mercy on our souls.

Source: https://is.gd/BDD0lU

[loiswolf]

Day 26 June 25 Nemours - Réclainville 87kms

Day 26 June 25 Nemours - Réclainville 87kms

Last night was soooo hot! I had to keep my room door open because there were no windows. Unfortunately another couple turned up to stay in the next room. Since I was sprawled on the bed in my underwear I thought I’d better close the door as they were out on the terrace talking. In the end it was just too hot and stuffy so I opened the door anyway. Don’t worry, the room was upstairs and there was another external door locked downstairs so none of the more unsavoury elements could get in.

Speaking of unsavoury elements! If you ever consider selling up and buying a chateau in France, don’t buy one in Nemours. It’s pretty horrible. The only redeeming element was the unusual looking church but it was covered in scaffolding and tarps so I can’t even vouch for that.

For dinner last night I walked about 200m to the chicken shop. I was sorry I didn’t have my pepper spray with me. I knew the shop opened at 6pm so I got there at 6:30. Can you believe they had sold out of chicken pieces? It’s a chicken shop!! I had to make do with tenders instead. I took them back to my room to eat them with my ant infested salad. Yes, ants everywhere because I didn’t want to put my food bag in the lady’s fridge. The reason I carry a food bag is so I have food. If it’s locked in someone else’s fridge then it’s pretty useless. Thus the ants! I ended up putting the food bag in the shower on top of my breakfast bowl. A few times I soaked it with cold water hoping this would discourage the ants and keep the food a bit cooler. It didn’t work.

The forecast for today was even hotter than yesterday so I left at 7:30. I had already corresponded with my host for tonight and knew I could get into my little apartment whenever I wanted.

Cycling through Nemours is not fun. The road is narrow, there are cars parked and several sets of traffic lights. The town is dirty and dowdy and always seems to be jammed with cars. Like I said, don’t go there. However, about 14kms up the road is one of the cutest little villages I have ever seen. It was called Jaqueville. There wasn’t much there and I didn’t stop to take a photo but it was very pretty.

My ride was a bit of a rerun of yesterday. There was a bit of a hill, nothing to worry about, lots and lots of farmland, and fortunately a slight headwind. This at least kept me a little cooler throughout the day.

At 24kms I came to Malesherbes. On a corner in the middle of town were a Boulangerie and a bar together, with seating outside. Perfect! Who knew where I might find this convenient combo again?

The queue in the Boulangerie took a bit of commitment but the coffee was quick and cheap. I had to sit on a ledge at the side to escape all the cigarette smoke but I was happy with my choice.....the cake was really good.

Last night I had made my usual list of towns and roads. Twice today when leaving Malesherbes and later Mainvilliers I found myself on shoulderless d roads with lots of trucks zooming along them. Both times I felt it wasn’t right, I wasn’t recognising the numbers or names so I did map checks. Sure enough, I had taken the wrong exit but was able to correct my mistake without adding too many extra kms to the day. Good system!

Does anybody know what this crop is? It was quite different to all the others.

I thought this was photo worthy.....its probably why I missed the turn.

Diverting from the google maps route in Mereville I headed down  to Angerville. I knew my accommodation tonight was very remote and I had figured out where the nearest big supermarket was. There was a Lidl in Angerville and that’s where I was headed. It wasn’t really out of the way and I was able to get something to cook in my absolutely gorgeous apartment tonight. After the shopping expedition I headed into town for a really expensive coffee ( got tricked again!) and drank it with the very cheap cheese bread and muffin from Lidl.

Only about 26kms from there and boy, was it getting hot. I stopped at this field thinking I might be able to get a bit of a soaking from the sprinkler.

Nope, it didn’t work. I stepped over rows of whatever the crop was but didn’t seem to be able to nail exactly where the water was landing.

Only a few more villages to go....past this lovely chateau,

Lots of wind turbines spinning lazily in the heat ( a bit like me really)

and soon I was turning off to Réclainville. It not a big place! My accommodation is not even in the village. It’s another 1.5kms down the road at an even tinier village.

It didn’t matter, it was worth the extra k’s. It’s a perfect modern little apartment at the side of a house. It has everything I’ve been missing. A fridge, a microwave, a beautiful modern bathroom but sadly no air conditioning. Oh,  and no ants, except the ones I brought with me and have since killed! I’ve had to sit outside again this afternoon and will be leaving my door open again tonight. I might even have company!

Today’s map.

[tianjinwellmadescaffold]

Cuplock Scaffolding Steel Ladder Manufacturing Video - Steel Ladders wit...

[hitchcock-eastern-hemisphere]

Tuesday 9.21.21

I feel like it's been a week since I got here. I've walked probably 20 miles in the last three days. Let's see where to start.

Sunday morning I went to Costa's for coffee and breakfast, apparently it's a big coffee chain here. Around lunch time, I went to meet a friend K (I will shorten all names for confidentiality) from my cohort on LSE campus. I'd never been on it before!

We immediately left and walked across the bridge to Southwark (pronounced Suthark, apparently). It was drizzling and everything was pretty grey, it felt pretty enchanting in a dreary London kind of way. The whole south bank of the river around there is super built up, it feels like the Yards or the Wharf in DC near where I'm from.

We eventually ended up at Ristorante Olivelli for lunch, we both really felt like having pasta for some reason. It was a cute restaurant. We meandered around Vauxhall and then crossed the river again toward Pimlico, and we walked by Big Ben (I hope my gold production is now increased by 25% [hah, Civ 5 reference]) and Westminster Abbey. Big Ben was mostly blocked by scaffolding. Eventually, I split off and took the train back up to Tufnell Park. For dinner, I ate granola out of a whisky tumbler with a fork, so that's the type of life I'm pursuing now.

On Monday, I went to meet my friend N from the cohort at LSE campus. He had literally just arrived from NYC, and couldn't check into his hotel until later. We walked around LSE campus a bit more, and both bought some LSE clothing/etc at the school store. It's funny, a lot of the buildings are quite modern, but the way they're all tucked in together, it still feels kind of like a medieval street. Lots of cobblestone-ish roads, no real quad like I'm so used to at UChicago or Columbia (though I only spent a couple months at the latter, and I always found that campus to be not terribly welcoming).

I wanted to go to the bookstore Hatchards in Picadilly, which I thought would be a 15 minute walk. Instead, I dragged my friend on a like 40-minute march (keep in mind, this man just got off a red-eye flight to a country five timezones away from home). We made it, and I bought two books that looked related to my dissertation subject.

We were supposed to do a lot of work on that this summer and I did none, because I needed a five month break from that truly exhausting nine-month slog of virtual class and quarantine isolation. Anyway, we chilled at a Caffe Nero nearby for a while, then I left and bought a tennis racket+balls and a basketball at Lillywhites nearby. Yesterday afternoon, I bought some plants. I'll be filling my apartment with as many as possible while I'm here. Pictures soon.

Yesterday evening, I wanted to try this Ethiopiean restaurant Lalibela on Fortress Rd nearby, but I stood outside for like 20 minutes after their supposed opening time of 6, and they never flipped the closed sign to open. I also realized I was slightly under-dressed wearing only a tank top and shorts. So I walked across the street and ordered from Blue Moon Thai instead. While I was waiting, I went over to Sainsburys to buy a few things, and I think the security guard thought I was a suspicious loiterer because he followed me around most of the time I was in there.

I forget what else I did yesterday, but I went to sleep at 10-ish and actually slept through the whole night!! Which is a big deal, because the first night I woke up at 1 am and fell asleep again like an hour later. And then Monday night I woke up at 2ish and proceeded to text one of my friend, L, until like 3:45 am.

This morning, I walked over to Rustique Cafe, on Fortress Rd right near all the other things on Fortress Rd that I talk about. Inside, they have a bunch of bookshelves and all the books are for sale. And you can walk out the back and sit in a wonderful garden they have.

I also saw a cute cat walking around outside my building.

I got a cappuccino (UK cappuccinos always seem to be like 12-16oz, a traditional capp is supposed to be 8 lmao). Also, it has just become apparent to me that tumblr or Firefox spell-check does not recognize cappuccino as a word. It's 2021, boys.

Today, I might my friend K came up to Tufnell park because she was thinking about trying to get a room in my building. We walked to Workman's Cafe (where I went the first day I was here) and got lunch, which was cute. I like the vibe. When we were paying at the counter, I asked the guy if I could tip them and he stared at me for like 10 seconds. Apparently, tipping isn't really a thing here. Also, I'd been wanting to get a picture of the train tracks from the bridge near my apartment for a few days. Got it today. It makes me think of Persona.

We then walked all the way down Fortress Rd, which eventually becomes Kentish Town Road, to Camden. My best description of Camden is that it's basically like the Greenwich Village of London, with some Times Square elements on a couple blocks. Parts of it were really cool, other parts were cheapo London/Britain knick-knacks shops that looked like they belonged in wherever the equivalent of Midtown NYC is in London. We walked by this cool lock on the way.

We went to an anime store!!! that she found called Japan Craft. Manga shelves took up like half the store, and they had some posters, t-shirts, and figurines as well. And for some reason, some Harry Potter merchandise? Anyway, I didn't buy anything, but that's probably the best manga selection I've ever seen short of Kinokuni-ya in NYC, so I want to go back. And somehow, I forgot to take any pictures.

Afterwards, we walked over to this Italian Cafe to get coffee, and instead got a Rosé (K) and Peroni (me). I also had a Portuguese custard pastry. I'm too tired to remember the name of this cafe, but it was cute. We toured another apartment she's looking at near there, then I walked all the way back up to my apartment.

And immediately got changed and got on the tube back down south to LSE campus again, to meet my friend C who flew in yesterday! After a brief tour of LSE campus, I led her too on a long and partly unguided walk through Picadilly and Soho, and we eventually landed at Kissaten bubble tea shop right near Chinatown. I definitely got us lost because I wasn't looking at the map, which she was not thrilled about lol. The bubble tea was good and there were so many super flashily dressed people there. But they only had caffeinated options which is why I'm now up at 12:40 writing this, oops.

We also walked by a pub called Duke of Argyll, which is where the Scottish part of my family is from.

Afterward, we walked through Chinatown, which was absolutely enchanting. My friend C is from Shanghai, and I really like food from places all over China, so we were both excited.

We ended up sitting outside at See Woo, a dim-sum restaurant that had mapo tofu, which I name as my favorite food in the world. That's also one of the first things she and I ever talked about when we were becoming friends. We both want to learn Cantonese and she suggested we take it together.

I took the train up and got home a bit after 9. I continued my multiplayer Terraria game with my stepbrother H for a couple hours, and now I'm here. And I think I might finally be ready to go to sleep.

[sbknews]

Drift Innovations Ghost X Action Cam Review

Neil Jewell of Jewell Bike Training tests the Ghost X Action Cam with many thanks to Drift Innovations check driftinnovation.com for more info Cameras are everywhere you look these days. Speed Cameras, CCTV cameras, Dash Cams and also Action Cams. If you are looking to capture your epic events then is an action camera the tool for the job? Superbike News recently reviewed a motorcycle dash cam https://superbike-news.co.uk/viofo-mt1-dash-cam-review/ so, which is right for you, an Action Cam or a Dash Cam. The Ghost X from Drift is a compact action camera that has been designed to be mounted virtually anywhere. It records HD 1080P video at 30fps

It’s Drift’s budget camera coming it at about £130, it offers a 5 hour battery life which can be extended to 8 hours with the bigger battery unit that is available for another £25. The included 32GB microSD card might need to be replaced for a bigger one as a 10 minute video (1080P) takes up 3.8GB of storage so by my very rough calculations you are probably good for 1.5 hours before you’d fill the card. Not a problem if you change one of the mirad of settings to give you loop recording. The loop interval can be set at different stages between 10 seconds and 10 minutes meaning it will record at 10 minute lengths until the card is full then return to the start and begin overwriting.

In the box is everything you need to get started. I initially ignored the instruction manual as it looked too thick and technical.  I set about figuring the camera out myself. There are only 3 buttons on the top how hard could it be. One button is clearly an on/off as identified by the international on/off symbol. I pressed it, nothing. I pressed and held it for a couple of seconds and the little camera beeped into life. The back of the Ghost X has the tiniest of screens, smaller than a postage stamp, it had illuminated a pleasant green colour. This is where those with bad eyesight may begin to struggle. The little screen is giving out a lot of information in such a small space but, if you can see it, it does makes sense. Information such a recording mode; view angle; recording quality; the number of files saved; battery life and remaining card capacity are all shown on a screen size of 132mm² Staring at the screen I began pressing buttons, The top button, the one closest to you as you look at the screen, cycles the display through the various modes that the Ghost X has to offer, Video, Still camera, time lapse, burst image, settings menu, each one of these comes with its own colour. This will prove useful as you can instantly tell the mode the camera is in simply by looking at the glow and not squinting at the screen. Pressing the button again cycles back to the start. I pressed the middle button and discovered this cycles through the options on the screen being displayed, so in video mode you can alter the resolution to 1080, 960, 720 or WVGA which is probably the same resolution as a typical CCTV camera the advantage being you can up the frame rate to 60fps if you need to. I’m not a keen photographer so would probably need to look up what a lot of the settings do to fully understand the functionality of the Ghost X but then I would probably ignore them all and set it to record video at its best 1080P x 30fps resolution and never touch any settings again.

Cycling through the screens and the modes, I only had to revert to the instruction book once and that was to understand what the K140 meant. I could change it to K90 and K115 but did not know what I was doing. Reluctantly, I flicked through the quick guide to realise that the K wasn’t a K but a symbol to illustrate the field of vision for the recordings. There are three options 90º, 115º and 140º. Once familiar with the button layout and how the options on the screens cycle through the menu options and back to the beginning, setting up the time and date and other options on the Ghost X was relatively simple. Just click slowly to get to where to need to be otherwise run the risk of cycling through all 28 menu options before getting back to where you need to be. (press and hold the button to go backwards through the menus) One of the 28 menus was Video tagging, this seems like a very clever idea if you don’t want to be recording all day and then have to wade back through hours of footage to find that one time where your mate did something cool. Video tagging is like having the Ghost X set in sleep mode, it’s always watching but not recording until you press the record button. Then, depending on the settings it can record the previous 2 minutes and the following 2 minutes. With Video Tagging, you’ll never miss that perfect action shot ever again. I eventually found my way back to the screen that told me the camera was in video mode but how to actually record video? I had one button left to press so pressed it, The Ghost X emitted a little beep, change to a big beep or no beep in settings, and the green glow turned red. It was recording. Starting and stopping is as simple as touching a button and to check it was all fine I hooked the camera up to the computer using the included USB lead and was impressed at how quickly the device was recognised. Much easier than removing the SD card from a DashCam type recorder. The Camera also charges up while attached to the computer and the little screen glows green when fully charged.

Feeling good that I had worked out all the buttons and squinting at the tiny screen, I was feeling ready. I just one had more flick through the user guide to make sure I had found everything. It was at this point I made the life decision to read the manual first on every new thing I get.

The guide was easy to use and only so thick because it contained all of the languages. It mentioned an APP, of course there is an APP, I downloaded that and looked up how to connect the APP to the camera. It was here that the instruction booklet came into its own. After connecting the APP to the phone via on-board Wi-Fi (easy) you get full access to all the system settings on your phone screen, not one that is 11mm wide x 12mm high. You can see a live image of the camera on the phone to help you set in the perfect location. You live and learn. The APP does a lot more than just system settings you can control the camera, live stream and join the drift community to share videos and experiences. After fiddling with the menus, it was time to fix the camera to my crash helmet. I already have a motorcycle dash cam on the bike, I didn’t want to go full Tellytubby and mount it on the top on my lid so opted for the side. The box contains 2 x 3M sticky pads, one is flat and the other curved. There was a lot of searching for the best location on the helmet to stick it. 3M pads are wondrously sticky so I wanted to find the right place first time. One of the great things about the Ghost X is that the lens can rotate so the camera can be mounted at any angle and the level corrected by simply rotating the lens so that the marker arrow is pointing straight up. Doing this exercise while looking at the image on your phone means you can get it right first time.

As expected from an action camera there are many different mounting option available, the handlebar mount, designed for mountain bikes, might work on the handle bars or crash bars of some motorbikes. It is made from metal and looks & feels well build and robust. There is a pivot mount that will allow for the camera being mounted any which way; a roll bar mount for clamping onto scaffold sized tube. In fact, wherever you want to mount your camera there is probably a mount designed to do that job on the Driftinnovation.com website.

I wanted a sleek fitting camera so went for the simplest solution of the curved sticky pad and then having the camera clip fitting directly into that. The camera clip is indexed onto the camera with a serrated grooved ring that controls the vertical angle the camera. The horizontal view depends on where you put the sticky pad. Changing the orientation of the camera and rotating the lens can be done without tools making camera position changes quick and easy, something that can’t be done with a dashcam.

The camera clip locks into the sticky pad via a couple of spring loaded plastic prongs. Pinching these together enables the camera to slide out. When not on the helmet the sticky pad socket is hardly noticeable. One thing I would always want to be sure of, though, is that the camera clip is securely located in its socket. Make sure you listen for 2 audible clicks as it locks into place and then try to pull it back out. The last thing you want to see is footage of your camera bouncing down the road, if you ever find it again that is. There are no tethers available on the website to offer peace of mind. The buttons and the release prongs are easy to use with a gloved hand. Once you have mastered where the buttons are, you can turn the Ghost X on and off and start and stop the recording by touch. Or do as I did and start the camera recording and then lock it into place on the helmet. Remember that colour coded screen? There’s a small indicator light above the lens so you can check in a mirror what mode you’re in and if you are recording or not just by looking at it. Out and about on the bike, I didn’t notice the camera at all. It’s slim enough that it doesn’t rub on your shoulder when cornering and light enough that I couldn’t feel it. I made a few runs, the first one used the onboard mic and suffered horrific wind noise, maybe the sensitivity was too high. The second run I used the external mic. On returning back to base and reviewing the footage I was very disappointed that the mic had not picked up commentary. I did some checks with another mic and diagnosed a bad connector on the original mic. I’ve ordered a new one for £10 which fixed the issue.

With the mic fixed and installed inside my helmet alongside my intercom mic, I connected the app to the camera via the on-board Wi-Fi and set off on another test run using the app to alter the settings along the way. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WDiYkKhAGHk The Ghost X is not waterproof at least, I don’t think it is. It’s probably not fully waterproof. you see, I’m not really sure if it is or not but there is a waterproof case that is available as an accessory so, if you do want to go out in the rain then that is probably what you need. I tried in on the camera and was not happy with it. It’s good for 40m underwater though! The Ghost XL is waterproof, according to the website, and as it’s only another £20 I’d get that one. However there is one annoyance that comes from browsing the Driftinnovation.com website, and that’s the constant notifications that people are buying stuff. I really don’t need to know that Karen from Margate has just bought a Drift Class 10 MicroSD card 1 hour ago. I want to know the IPX rating of the Ghost X is please so I can decide to go out in the rain or not. Thank you very much.

Overall, a great action camera, reasonably simple to set up and get going but will need some fine tuning of the settings to get the most out of it. I was happy that it came with a fully charged battery so I could start to mess with it immediately. I later searched the website and found out that the Ghost X is IPX4 rated. This means that you can use it in the rain, but not at high speed in heavy rain.

It has other modes apart from the video; you can take 12MP still images; bursts of up to 15, 4MP images and set up time lapse. These are good to have but I wonder how many times they will be used. It’s certainly less hassle as a camera than a dash cam system, it’s compact and easy to access the files with the USB link, the quality of the video is great and it offers more to the video creator because when mounted on the helmet it follows the rider’s eye. With the bigger battery and a larger SD card up to 128GB the recording times are comparable to that of a hardwired dash cam system, but ask yourself how often do you ride for longer than 8 hours? Even if you do, grab a spare battery that can be charged up via USB and swap them in seconds. The downside is that it only records in one direction and if something happens behind you you’ll miss it.

So which is right for me dash cam or action cam?  Well the perfect solution is to have both. The helmet mounted action cam will be used extensively to record live commentary over the top of video for training and feedback purposes and the front and rear dash cam system will be there to record any incidents and as also as back up when, not if, I forget to press the record button. Definitely a great little camera that looks sleek has a lot of functionality and will absolutely capture your best moments. You should get one. Review and photos by Neil Jewell of Jewell Bike Training You can check out Jewell Bike Training website and also follow on socials T: @jewelltraining FB: @jewellbiketraining Insta: @jewellbiketraining For more reviews check out our dedicated Reviews page For more Drift Innovation and our reviews check out our new dedicated page Drift Innovation News or head to the official Drift Innovation website www.driftinnovation.com

If you would like to receive our headlines daily to your email inbox then sign up to our newsletter: Here Subscribe to our news channels: Here

Read the full article

[dmowyl]

Why Learn Through Play?

First off, it is a common misconception to think that children are expected to sit down and learn their ABC’s and 123′s, read, write, do math all BEFORE kindergarten. Not sure where this all stems from, but I always tell families, that is what KINDERGARTEN and grade-school is for. As a pre-k teacher, it is my job to make sure they are developing the skills to be ABLE to learn in a kindergarten/grade-school setting. Children need to learn how to self regulate, problem solve, focus & engage, persevere through challenges, be confident in trying, ask questions, reflect, SOCIAL SKILLS and overall be independent. Not only that, children need to develop certain muscles, fine and gross motor muscles, to even hold a pencil or cut with scissors correctly, button, zip, tie shoes, etc. Without these skills, how can we expect children to learn more difficult subjects if they can’t sit still, concentrate, work with peers on projects, or calm themselves down without a teacher to hold their hand? (As i am typing this right now, I am watching “girls incarcerated, young and locked up” on netflix and it is a very good example of what happens to children who do not fully develop these important life skills. Side-note, it is an entertaining show.) 

Allowing a generous chunk of free play will help develop these skills in a very organic and relevant way for children. When something is personal or relevant to them, the information is internalized and learned much faster. Free play invites curiosity, exploration, experimenting, making predictions, finding conclusions. It creates the opportunity for cooperative play, conflict-resolution, problem solving, thus developing social skills and the ability to recognize emotions, creating situations to develop self regulation and moral sense. It isn’t that ABC’s and 123′s are NOT being taught in class, rather it is being learned organically on their own terms through play. I am there to observe, and scaffold their learning, constantly asking them open ended questions to help them think, reflect and come to their own answers. That being said, I try to turn situations into a learning experience any chance I get and reinforce their knowledge of numbers, counting, simple math, letter and phonetic recognition, reading etc. 

Believe it or not, I do have one student who can legitimately read whole books to me. Its funny because I can’t hide things by spelling words out to teachers because he can sound out the letters and figure out what I am saying. He can also tell when I skip words or sentences in a book and does not let me off the hook! It is amazing to see their knowledge grow significantly when they are in control of their learning and because of that, they grow their self confidence and feel competent. This is what I would hope to foster in every child I work with before they move on to kindergarten. 

There are so many more beneficial factors to free play and I encourage you to look further into it to find out more!

[teresatranbooks]

Reading Ladders - Romance

Prompt: Following the ideas in the Lesesne readings, create a book ladder that takes readers from YA books to more complex texts.  Share a rationale in your post that helps us see how your ladder works - and provides thinking on how the complexity of the texts scaffolds from one to the other.  You also will want to identify the grade level and reading level of the reader you've built this ladder to engage...  Post this to your blog (which means you can also be as visual as you'd like.)

Based on the Lesesne readings and other folks’ reading ladders, it seems the one genre or area that people haven’t touched or made a ladder for is...romance! (The best genre of them all (; ). When I think about romance, I think about how it shows up in practically all genres and stories, whether we intend for it to or not. Love unites us all, right? Love for other folks is what makes us human, right? And being human means we’re drawn to stories and storytelling about the various kinds of love we partake in and spread and practice. 

My reading ladder will be start off focused on romance as a plot element that appears in different genres, such as fantasy/sci-fi or contemporary, and then steadily lead to the actual young adult/adult romance genre. I’m constructing my ladder in such a way because while romance as a separate individual genre exists more so for adults, there is definitely a growing romance category within young adult literature these days, and I want to recognize that reality, while also hoping this ladder will show the wild breadth of romance that appears across different genres that are slightly more established in the young adult age category.

Grade Level: 6th - 12th // Reading Level: 5th - 8th 

Bottom/1st Step - Simon vs. The Homo Sapiens by Becky Albertalli - Contemporary

Simon Spier, a closeted gay boy living in Atlanta, GA, strikes up an online correspondence with a mystery queer boy, Blue. Contemporary genre. It’s a fun, quick, and relatable read. It offers a diverse perspective of a gay kid trying to find love for himself that many young queer kids can relate to. It’s a good starting point for young kids who want to read books about a young boy coming into his own through the lens of sexuality and romance -- and also for kids who aren’t totally into romance for the romance element in Simon is only 1/3...maybe even 1/4 of the plot. 

2nd Step - To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han - Contemporary

Lara Jean Song, a Korean American girl writes five secret love letters to five different boys. One day, the letters are sent out. Her life is then turned upside down as she enters a fake-dating relationship scenario with the popular boy named Peter Kavinsky...where she ends up falling for him! Also contemporary genre. It’s a perfect follow-up to Simon because (1) it also has a book to movie adaptation, (2) it also contains a coming-of-age narrative, but this time with a Korean American girl protagonist and (3) it contains romance, but the romance doesn’t overtake the entire book. TATBILB offers a different, fresh diverse perspective on a person experiencing young love for the first time, but is easily on the same reading level and similar writing style as Simon, so it’s perfect for kids who want something close to Simon, but a little bit different in experience.

Grade Level: 9th - 12th // Reading Level: 9th - 12th  

3rd Step - Emergency Contact by Mary H. K. Choi - Contemporary

Penny Lee, a young Korean American college student and aspiring writer far from home, enters her freshman year of college for the first time. Sam, a young white college drop out working at a cafe looking to make ends, has dreams about being a famous film director. Both meet and it’s less of a meet cute and more of a collision of unbearable awkwardness. Also contemporary genre. This book naturally builds off of Simon and TATBILB with its romance acting more as a subplot and as a vehicle for individual character growth, but instead it takes place in college. The book also contains one Asian American girl protagonist and a white guy protagonist, as well as contain a meet cute and conversations over text, so it’s a nearly perfect combination of Simon and TATBILB. This book is perfect for readers who want a peek at college life and a slightly more complex text with a different sense of humor from the previous two books, but still experience the emotional ups and downs of young people finding themselves through their passions and the people/partners they meet that we often see in contemporary romance books with younger characters.

4th Step - Warcross by Marie Lu - Sci Fi Thriller 

While I haven’t read this book yet, I’ve heard so many good reviews about it that I had to include it on the list! Emika Chen, a Japanese hacker and bounty hunter, is whisked off to Tokyo and thrust into a world of fame and fortune as a hired spy in the Warcross game. But soon her investigation into the game uncovers a sinister plot, with major consequences for the entire Warcross empire. Sci Fi thriller. This book has a slightly more mature romance arc compared to the previous books, but it’s still age appropriate for high schoolers. It offers a different genre for readers who want to read some romance, but want a sci-fi twist to it. It also is written by an Asian American author and stars Japanese characters, so it’s a perfect next book to read after reading a couple of books that star Asian American characters entering romances in a different genre. 

Grade Level: 10th - 12th // Reading Level: 10th - 12th 

5th Step - Wicked Saints by Emily A. Duncan - Gothic Fantasy

This book is a bit of a departure in the romance ladder. It’s about Nadya Lapteva, a young orphan who can talk to the Slavic gods and has powers granted to her through prayer. She enters an enemies to lovers romance with her enemy Malachiasz, a blood made who is an atheist and is the leader of a cult. She works with him in an attempt to end a centuries long war, and in that process, falls in love with him. This book contains a different type of romantic arc, the enemies to lovers one, and is a more complex read, so it might be an interesting challenge for readers who are more used to simpler, gentler romances. I’d also recommend it for high schoolers who want something different in their romance, a push and pull in the dynamic across the backdrop of different genre (this time, it’s fantasy!) with an exploration on topics hardly explored in YA such as theology, pantheon of nonWestern gods, and morals. I’d also recommend it for more mature readers, as it contains some graphic images of violence and blood, but that is to be expected with the topic of young kids fighting in a war. 

Grade Level: 11th - 12th // Reading Level: 10th - 12th 

6th Step - Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo - Fantasy

This book is definitely a step up in complexity as it contains more intricate world building and plot development than any of the previous books on this list. It’s about Kaz Brekker and his band of criminals (some with magical elemental powers and some with other fighting skills), who are tasked to break into the most secure place in the this fantastical world and extract an important person from it. The content and twists of the heist are super interesting and action-packed, and will definitely pique all different types of readers’ interest. Its romance is subtle and slowburn and contains three different types of romantic arcs varying from enemies to lovers, to co-workers to lovers, to idiots to lovers. There’s also queer representation. It’s really all encompassing and has something for everyone’s romantic tastes. I’d recommend it for readers who want the same kind of dark fantasy vibes as Wicked Saints, but a slower and more diverse set of romance arcs. 

7th Step - The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller - Greek Mythology/Historical

Warning: This book is devastating and will make you cry. Achilles, “the best of all the Greeks,” son of the cruel sea goddess Thetis and the legendary king Peleus, and hero of the Trojan War, falls in love with Patroclus, awkward young prince exiled from his homeland and brought to live with Achilles. This book is definitely more mature in its romance, as its probably the first book in this ladder that depicts a sexual scene, albeit a very short one. I think YA readers should be able to read this book with no problem. I believe YA readers should have access to these kinds of scenes/books in order to figure out if they like them and if they do, we shouldn’t shame them. Sexuality and sex shouldn’t be taboo subjects! This book definitely is also much more emotionally heavy and centers the relationship/romance aspect as the main focus. I’d recommend it for my older, more mature readers in the 11th-12th grade. 

8th Step - The Darkest Minds by Alexandra Bracken - Dystopian Thriller

If readers want a break from the super fantasy/rich romances of the previous books, I’d recommend taking a good break with TDM. TDM is about Ruby, a young girl who has mind-reading abilities in a post-apocalyptic America. She escapes a camp designed to control and lock people with abilities like hers and travels with a band of kids like her to a safe haven. It builds off of the emotional complexity of The Song of Achilles, but in a different, more relatable way. Because it takes place in a post-US world, the characters’ dialogue is reminiscent of ours and so readers will be able to really relate to the characters and become really invested in them. The romance in this book is slowburn, a good followup to Six of Crows and The Song of Achilles, but the romantic dynamic is similar to that of earlier contemporary books like Simon and TATBILB and Emergency Contact. So, this book is not necessarily more sophisticated than the other books, but it is a different choice that readers can make when choosing books with romance to read and offers a breath of fresh air to the previous more prose-y books. 

9th Step - The Wrath and the Dawn by Renee Ahdieh - Fairytale/Historical 

A classic young adult retelling of the Arabic/Middle Eastern fairytale of One Thousand and One Nights, where teenager Shahrzad volunteers to be Khalid’s, the eighteen-year-old Caliph of Khorasan, new wife, after her best friend died at his hands. She is determined to not only stay alive, but to end the caliph’s reign of terror of killing young women brides once and for all. This book is really romantic-heavy and is similar to Wicked Saints with its’ enemies to lovers arc and dubious dynamics. However, it’s compelling and exciting with its fairytale elements and offers a diverse romantic story for readers who want something new and who want to stretch themselves beyond American-centric romantic stories, a callback to Warcross, which takes place in a futuristic sci-fi version of Japan. Because this book is heavier on the prose, I’d recommend it for readers who also want a slightly more complex read on a sentence-structure / description level.

Grade Level: 12th and older // Reading Level: 10th - 12th

10th Step - A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas - Romantic Fairytale Fantasy

From this point forward, these books will contain explicit sexual romantic content. While many folks will argue that there is no room for these kinds of scenes in YA books, I’d argue that by omitting access to such content (specifically explicit sexual scenes where consent is displayed), students will go out and find books that will show explicit sexual scenes that don’t show consent and they will learn from them. I think it’s better to not limit certain books from readers and let them decide for themselves if they’re uncomfortable with it or if it’s inappropriate for them. This book is perfect for folks who want a fairytale fantasy twist on the classic Beauty and the Beast story. It stars Feyre, a huntress, who ends up being kidnapped by the Faerie High Lord of Spring, Tamlin, for taking the life of a faerie. Once in the land of the faeries, she enters an enemies to lovers romance with Tamlin and discovers there is more beneath his exterior/mask. I’d recommend this for folks who want an extremely romance-centric story with one sex scene and an enemies to lovers arc. It’s also in the same level of complexity as The Wrath and The Dawn; it just centers around a different fairytale. 

11th Step - Red, White, and Royal Blue by Casey Mcquiston - Adult Romantic Contemporary

This book has multiple sex scenes. This book takes place in an alternate 2020 where Trump never became president and stars a man-loving-man relationship. Alex Claremont is the first biracial, bisexual Son of the First Woman President of the United States. He enters a secret romance with the Prince of England, Prince Henry, who is gay. This is one of my favorite books ever, if not my favorite book ever! I’d recommend this for anyone who wants an escapist rom com from the trashfire of a world we live in right now. I’d also recommend this for older, more mature high schoolers who want to understand American politics better and read contemporary, relatable, funny dialogue with a rivals to lovers romance. And lastly, I’d recommend this book for readers who want a callback to the first couple of books on this romance ladder, but with a more complex/sophisticated plot and character work. 

[endevia]

169 Tech Tip #59: Alt Keys

In these 169 tech-centric situations, you get an overview of pedagogy—the tech topics most important to your teaching—as well as practical strategies to address most classroom tech situations, how to scaffold these to learning, and where they provide the subtext to daily tech-infused education.

Today’s tip: #59–Alt Keys Add Symbols

Category: Google Apps

Sub-category: MS Office, Webtools, Keyboarding, Problem-solving

Q: How do I create the copyright symbol (or another symbol) in Google Apps or Word?

A: It’s easier than you think. Hold down the Alt key and press 0169. ©. Use the keypad with the num lock on–don’t use the number row. I could not get this to work until someone pointed out that you must use the keypad. Duh.

Have students try out some others that would be useful for them. For example:

Alt+0191 = ¿

Alt+0128 = €

Alt+0169 = ©

Alt+137 = ë

Alt+0247 = ÷

Alt+155 = ¢

Alt+241 = ±

This is a fun activity for December’s Hour of Code. It works in Office and Google Apps, as well as lots of other places, like my WordPress blog. Cool, huh?

Here are Alt Key suggestions for:

PCs

Macs

Chromebooks

Sign up for a new tip each week or buy the entire 169 Real-world Ways to Put Tech into Your Classroom.

Jacqui Murray has been teaching K-8 technology for 20 years. She is the editor/author of over a hundred tech ed resources including a K-8 technology curriculum, K-8 keyboard curriculum, K-8 Digital Citizenship curriculum. She is an adjunct professor in tech ed, webmaster for four blogs, an Amazon Vine Voice reviewer, CAEP reviewer, CSTA presentation reviewer, freelance journalist on tech ed topics, and a weekly contributor to TeachHUB. You can find her resources at Structured Learning. Read Jacqui’s tech thriller series, Rowe-Delamagente, and her upcoming historic fiction, Born in a Treacherous Time.

169 Tech Tip #59: Alt Keys published first on http://ift.tt/2x0Vr0e

[statrano]

169 Tech Tip #59: Alt Keys

In these 169 tech-centric situations, you get an overview of pedagogy—the tech topics most important to your teaching—as well as practical strategies to address most classroom tech situations, how to scaffold these to learning, and where they provide the subtext to daily tech-infused education.

Today’s tip: #59–Alt Keys Add Symbols

Category: Google Apps

Sub-category: MS Office, Webtools, Keyboarding, Problem-solving

Q: How do I create the copyright symbol (or another symbol) in Google Apps or Word?

A: It’s easier than you think. Hold down the Alt key and press 0169. ©. Use the keypad with the num lock on–don’t use the number row. I could not get this to work until someone pointed out that you must use the keypad. Duh.

Have students try out some others that would be useful for them. For example:

Alt+0191 = ¿

Alt+0128 = €

Alt+0169 = ©

Alt+137 = ë

Alt+0247 = ÷

Alt+155 = ¢

Alt+241 = ±

This is a fun activity for December’s Hour of Code. It works in Office and Google Apps, as well as lots of other places, like my WordPress blog. Cool, huh?

Here are Alt Key suggestions for:

PCs

Macs

Chromebooks

Sign up for a new tip each week or buy the entire 169 Real-world Ways to Put Tech into Your Classroom.

Jacqui Murray has been teaching K-8 technology for 20 years. She is the editor/author of over a hundred tech ed resources including a K-8 technology curriculum, K-8 keyboard curriculum, K-8 Digital Citizenship curriculum. She is an adjunct professor in tech ed, webmaster for four blogs, an Amazon Vine Voice reviewer, CAEP reviewer, CSTA presentation reviewer, freelance journalist on tech ed topics, and a weekly contributor to TeachHUB. You can find her resources at Structured Learning. Read Jacqui’s tech thriller series, Rowe-Delamagente, and her upcoming historic fiction, Born in a Treacherous Time.

169 Tech Tip #59: Alt Keys published first on http://ift.tt/2iEL915