#orange county ropes

[rookthorne]

⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ 𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐲 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐧

Bucky knew well enough that your venture to the Christmas market would not leave him unscathed, but still, as your loving husband, he trailed behind you loyally and almost complaint free — until you sprang a surprise on him.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 ☼ Farmer!Husband!Bucky Barnes x Wife!F!Reader

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ☼ 750

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ☼ Fluff

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ☼ Just a small, little addition, but no less sweet.

჻჻჻჻჻჻჻჻ 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 ☼ @buckybarnesevents Build a Bucky Bingo ჻჻჻ Farmer's Market (November) — Masterlist ☼ @rookthorne's Merry Buckmas — Masterlist

𝐏𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 '𝐧 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐑𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The Christmas market was always an insanely populated and busy event. And, it was loud — all you could hear for miles were people cheering, yelling, and laughing. 

People from all over the county and towns over yonder made their way to the largest fair within the state, peddling their wares or stocking up on the items that were fiercely popular just once a year. 

You were one of those people, much to your own annoyance. And Bucky’s. 

“C’mon, Peach,” Bucky groaned quietly, his eyes darting over the heads of the crowd. “This is ridiculous—please tell me you brought your list with you?”

“Settle petal,” you said back, and you brandished a considerable piece of paper with handwritten notes all over it. “It’s a good thing we brought the truck instead of Colton, or Bee.”

“Fuckin’ tellin’ me,” he mumbled. “Look at all you gotta get–” You slapped him on the shoulder. “Ow!”

“You big, whiny baby.”

Bucky stuck his tongue out at you in retaliation.

The two of you strode down the lanes of stalls and traders, taking in the sights and smells of all the freshly baked goods and newly picked produce; cinnamon and earth mixed with sugar and spice. 

A stall of oranges was your first stop, and you filled a box with the best of the best, and when you gestured for Bucky to lift it up and carry it, he looked at you, a curious tilt to his head. 

“I want to start making orange jam, or mix it with my peach,” you explained. “Just something new to try, that’s all.”

“Huh. Alright then, angel,” Bucky replied with a shrug. “I’m excited to see what my beautiful wife comes up with.”

Heat crawled up your neck and you ducked your head, muttering, “That’s enough now, c’mon, let’s go.”

Bucky bent and picked up the box, and he carried it while you led him through the stalls full to the brim with vegetables and fruits. Each time something was added, he playfully groaned with exertion and pretended to drop the box. It amused the vendors to no end.

Finally, after what felt like hours on your feet, you finally arrived at the very last few stalls. They were not food or produce vendors, instead, they were piled high to the rafters with knitted crafts — all kinds of dolls, hats, teddies, and toys hung off of rope or were neatly arranged on shelves, proudly showing off the mastery of their creators. 

That was when you spotted it; the perfect creation to end the day’s hunt. “Bucky!”

“What–?” He looked around, staring at you wide-eyed, and you pointed towards the furthest stall.

The rows and rows of Santa hats, knitted and created with what looked to be the softest, fluffiest wool, were beckoning you over; a siren’s call. Heedless to resist, and before you could be held back by Bucky’s call to wait, you jogged over — straight towards the Santa hat that was the colour of peaches. 

“Peach! Don’t run off on me like that–” Bucky gasped, his arms straining to hold the box. “Goddammit, what’ve you found?”

“Look!” you rushed, holding up the hat. 

He stared at it, then at you, and he raised a brow. “No.”

“No?” 

“Nope,” he repeated. “Nope, no. No.”

“I think that translates to yes,” you said, shrugging. And before he could protest, you approached the vendor and paid for the hat. The smile could not be wiped from your face when you turned around to walk back to Bucky, and he sighed in defeat. “There we go,” you sang, “now today is almost perfect.”

“Almost?” Bucky asked incredulously. “You’ve been draggin’ me along like a damned mule all day and that’s not enough–? Don’t you dare put that–” Your laughter cut him off, and you reached up towards his head and swiftly tugged the hat over his dark hair. “Agh!”

“There we go,” you said, stepping back and pulling out your phone for a photo. “Now it’s perfect.”

Bucky turned his back to you, nose in the air, and called over his shoulder while he walked away, “I am done with you, Peach—I’m filing for divorce!” 

“No you are not!” you yelled back, laughing at the way the pom-pom of his hat swayed with his dramatic walk. “I know you’re peachy keen to wear that all the way home!”

You swore you could feel his eyes roll back into his head in mock annoyance; his smile, too. “No I fuckin’ am not!”

⠈⠂⠄ 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 | 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 | 𝐚𝐨𝟑  ⠄⠂⠁

⠈⠂⠄𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⠄⠂⠁

[claybefree]

Tulip Poplar

Sorrow is my own yard

where the new grass

flames as it has flamed

often before but not

with the cold fire

that closes round me this year

William Carlos Williams- The Widow’s Lament in Springtime

Every spring I have to ask for the name again. Tulip poplar, Saucer Magnolia, something like that, you’d think I wouldn’t be surprised by her anymore. Whereas last week empty arms cast veins of silhouettes across a cold carpet of previous year's leaves, today I’m able to come home from a long day of work, and face her canopy of flowers, half open like teacups, and that is miraculous news. I take it as further evidence that after two years the sucking wound in my chest has finally closed.

Each March was a celebration, a maelstrom of pink hung beneath the blue, pinks so dark along thick shouldered leaves, almost purple, and then bleeding out rapidly to porcelain white, there was no ignoring it. I notched one end of an eight foot pallet we brought home into the main cluster of stems, six feet up and propped the other end with a door. Of course the kids never climbed into the blossoms, but we did.

Now everyone’s gone but me and the whole yard creeps more every year, abandoned gardens filled with weeds crawling out of their beds, privet’s relentless march choking everything in between. A cold wind brushes the tulip against the rafter tails outside my bedroom, waking me. Limbs resting on roof shingles, a stitch of yellow rope left from a swing I hung years ago cut deep into the bark like a tourniquet. Her blooms will turn brown and slimy and clog the already rusted gutters. Neither tree nor house belong to me but as far as I’m concerned, I’m the steward of both, for now.

So I spend sixty dollars that I do not have on a bright orange pole saw from Lowes which I run up into underbelly pierced with morning light, trying not to focus on saw teeth tearing past bark into white flesh, or sap raining onto my cheekbones. I’m grateful for the strength I have in my arms for this work today but I worry I got started too late in the season and the half dozen or more wounds I’ve left will become infected and kill her. Despite all this I work for the better part of a morning, and pile up branches tall as me in the burn pit in the middle of the yard. In the fall I’ll light it up and likely scare the new neighbors. The blossoms lining the crooked pile go for broke and open their white faces wide to the sun.

The days are consistently warm enough and the new tires on my motorcycle beg to be chewed up, but my heart’s not in it. Not yet. One morning soon I’ll blast out 64 sometime before eight thirty, get away from the Florida interlopers that keep trying to kill me and hit the Blue Ridge Parkway and adjacent counties on this side of the mountain- Nelson, Rockbridge and Amherst.

The best road out there is also the most dangerous, and yet with half a dozen ways up to the Parkway, I still find myself on route 56 more often than not. A million years ago I guess, before someone gave it a name, the Tye river cut a gorge out of the mountains, twisting impossibly through the rocks and at some point homesteaders ran a road alongside and named that 56. Highly technical, it’s not the curves that will dump me. Every rental cabin and vacation home has a driveway cut into the shale and sandstone hills which provide, after every good rain, an opportunity for gravel to spill out on the tarmac. If I’m not on top of my game that’s what will kill me.

But before all that, when it breaks off from the Rockfish Valley highway, 56 passes through a couple thousand acres of farmland on one side, and the Tye river on the other. For some reason I think a good bit about the people who work that land. Last year the fields appeared to be left fallow, two years previous, in the fall, thousands of pumpkins were left scattered and rotting on the vine, collapsing into orange pulp. All I could think was that the pumpkin patch contract fell through.

I want to find the old timers and see if anyone will talk to me about August 1969, when Hurricane Camille dumped two foot of water in three hours and drowned birds in trees. When the Tye jumped its banks, broke the back of every bridge that dared cross it and cut the census of Massies Mill nearly in half.

Sometimes I see the pictures they post and get jealous of my friends who travel abroad, but I’ve decided what I need is to ride a motorcycle entirely too fast through the middle of some fields in Nelson county every three months and do that in perpetuity. I’ve been in that valley headed home late in the day with the sun low under the clouds turning everything golden, worried that I’m too far out. I’ve encountered the Tye river in a spring flood, washing across 56 nearly to the point where I had to turn back and find another route. I’ve ridden it half frozen in a driving rain, tucked behind the fairing with a mother of three on the back seat holding onto me for warmth.

Back in 2022, at my lowest, whenever I talked about tulip flowers or graveyard moss carried home from a chapel where it crosses over the mountain and heads down toward Vesuvius, my closest friends would encourage me to move out. They’d point to the marks on the door casing in the kitchen chronicling each child’s growth, five years worth, both hers and mine, and yeah, I got it. My argument was I’d have to find something else just like it- a shed for my tools, a garage for my bikes, somewhere to write. I dunno, man, I would say, it just feels like I belong here.

One of these days, instead of waving to them on their harvesters, I’m gonna pull over and talk to one of these guys. Yeah me, a wild eyed weirdo biker from the city rambling on about something I don’t know if I could even put into words. The idea of the two of us having a shared language with a place, a connection, whether it be on a tractor or a motorcycle, bound by both sorrow and joy. The connection running deeper because you’ve seen it flood, seen it bake, seen it come alive every year in a blaze of green.

Clay Blancett, 2024

[snowflake-of-destruction]

“What’s Comic Con?” - EndHawks

Pitch One:

Enji knew about different hero fan events, even made a few pre-recorded videos to play at them, though he'd never been roped into live panels, much less something that seemed as tacky as meet and greets, but when Shoto starts excitedly talking about the convention he and his girlfriend, Camie, are attending–she's going to have a table in an alley full of artists and Shoto is very proud for some reason–Izuku Midoriya, who might as well be another son for the fondness Enji has developed for him, doubles the rambling by talking about how much fun he has every time he goes and the costumes his mother helped him sew for him and Katsuki, and then Hawks, who Enji would have expected to mix sarcasm and groans about being forced into appearances and paraded around in with his smiles and support, starts instead waxing fondly about some past conventions he's been to, well Enji starts to wonder what he's missing.

When he tries to join the conversation by asking who he should contact about being booked as a guest, he's almost laughed away from the table. Hawks explains both that the convention they are discussing isn't really a hero event, persay, and though he still would be welcome as a guest ("Actually, you're too big a name for them, sweetheart.") the fun is going undercover as an attendee.

Enji understands the appeal of that even less, but he's supportive of his boyfriend and his children (and his children adjacent young people that still come to dinner sometimes).

A pinch of interest leads to him being pushed a mile outside of his comfort zone.

And that's how Endeavor and Hawks end up wandering a convention center dressed as Link and Sidon.

Pitch Two:

Quirk evolution under extreme duress and possible imminent death is something they'd seen before–and recently. What Endeavor and Hawks have not seen is…wherever the hell it is they end up after a desperate ComicMan sends a WARP their way while the heroes are fighting for their lives and losing.

You've just landed in the Orange County Convention Center in Orlando, Florida, bleeding, battered, and now concerningly quirkless, dressed in what you've just been told is "Sick Endhawks cosplay." What do you do next?

Go to Disney World of course.

SEND ME A TITLE AND A PAIRING/CHARACTER(S) AND I'LL GIVE YOU THE SUMMARY OF A FIC I MAY OR MAY NOT WRITE

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

More New OCs

Glee:

Natalie Astor in Ballad Of A Homeschooled Girl – Ash Astor's younger sister, parents were very very intense family vloggers and (with help from Ash and Roman) recently lost custody of her, she's just moved from Orange County (specifically Newport Beach or Huntington Beach) to Lima and is living with Josh St James because the courts decided that “real estate agent in ohio” was a lot more stable than “polyamorous triad with two working actors and a music producer in LA” for her custody

Used to be passionate about music but it was ruined by her parents (either discouraged in favour of more vlogging or pushed so heavily for the vlog that she's lost all enjoyment of it) but somehow gets roped into eventually joining the New Directions

(special thanks @the-witching-ash and @manyfandomocs for letting me be insane about her, helping me iron out details, and putting up with me being annoying about her face for 24 fucking hours)

Hunger Games:

Athena Crane – Arachne Crane's granddaughter. Arachne survived but that was kept secret for a year after the 10th games in order to feed the "districts are savages" propaganda. Top marks at the academy, capitolite princess, exactly what everyone expected based on her grandmother; decides that she wants to be a hunger games escort to see the districts, Snow never got past his grudge against Arachne so makes her apprentice under Effy and sends her to 12 instead of a career district

Phaedra Viatrix – Cressida’s younger sister, socialite, movie star in her sister’s films, secret rebel who uses her fame and connections to pass information on ( first name might still change, not 100% sure on it )

(also have the rest of my OUAT ocs so close to done but struggling to commit to 2 names so they aren't being included yet)

[trash-gobby]

∞ When You’re a Stranger ∞ - Chpt. 1

Summary: The Emerson family has been through enough in Santa Carla. With the looming threat of David's vampire gang hanging over their heads, the family flees to the cooler and hopefully quieter town of Hawkins, Indiana.

However, what they think is going to be a peaceful fresh start turns out to be anything but. New school, new life and a new terror waiting for them in Hawkins.

∞ Forward a chapter ---> Chpt. 2

Word Count: 2.3K

Pairing(s): Will be revealed as the story unfolds.

Character(s): Michael Emerson, Sam Emerson, Lucy Emerson, Laddie Thompson, Star, Steve Harrington, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers, Will Byers, Dustin Henderson, Lucas Sinclair, Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Billy Hargrove, Joyce Byers, Jim Hopper, Eleven/Jane Hopper, Mike Wheeler

Link: The Lost Boys, Stranger Things

Rating: PG

A/N: So I've definitely messed with the canon for both Stranger Things and Lost Boys. One of the major changes I made is to when the events of the Lost Boys movie took place and what happened to the characters. Events of TLB (Lost Boys) occured in the summer of 1984 instead of 1987.

Obviously the boys (from TLB) aren't dead in this scenario. I also aged Sam Emerson down from sixteen to fourteen so he can have more interactions with the gang in Stranger Things.

Warnings/Triggers ⚠️: Sibling fights, mention of past ab*se.

______________________________________________________________

It was a lot less sunny in Roane County, Indiana. A lot greener too. The kind of green marked by dense forests and underbrush that was filled with the kind of wildlife that would be featured in Disney’s Bambi. At least that’s what Michael thought derisively.

Although around late October the gloom of oncoming winter was starting to descend over the area. The season working its way from fall with some trees leaves already starting to turn from green to oranges and yellows. Although green was still the dominant colour of the surrounding scenery.

Michael's eyes roamed from the surrounding forest rushing by out the window and to Star sitting in the passenger seat up front with his mom in their dinky little family Volvo. She had a pair of headphones that he'd lended her so she could listen to Sam's walkman for a bit. Michael can just make out the sound which is bleeding softley. It's her favourite album of all time and tuned to her favourite song.

They have forgotten what binding they lack. Oh under those white street lamps-

The amount of times that the whole Emerson family has listened to that album, She's So Unusual, would be probably on beat the amount of kilometers they'd traveled. Michael didn't mind though, the songs on that album pretty catchy even if played over and over. At least Michael could handle it. However, Sam had reached the end of his rope when Star had suggested playing it on the cars cassette player. The compromise of borrowing the walkman was what Lucy had suggested in order to keep everyone happy. The last thing that they all needed was a nearly two day trip ruined by arguing the whole way over music.

Tensions were pretty high though. At least they were for the first half day of travelling. Lucy had hastily piled as much of their stuff as possible in the back of their trunk along with making sure there was enough space for Nanook to sit comfortably.

They'd left a lot of things back at Grandpa's in order to make space for Star and Laddie to come with them. Only the essentials and a couple of their most loved possessions were allowed to be packed up. The less they had to think about what to take, the sooner they could get the hell out of dodge.

After the events of that dreaded night, the final showdown... Michael didn't want to think about it. Not at the moment, possibly not ever again.

He wanted to forget it. There was already the pressure of starting fresh yet again in a new location with a town full of strangers. Possibly nosey strangers that would ask questions at these interesting group.

They'd definity stare at Star's strange handmade clothes and long gathered hippie style skirts. Her wardrobe was that of someone way to carefree for any common everyday folks. At least not yuppie townies. Her strange habits for foraging and creating artwork out of random things she'd find lying around might be off-putting to others.

Sam didn't really know when to stop talking or how to make his choice of wardrobe, reading and music quiet. Everything about his younger brother was loud and flamboyant. Fitting in with the general crowd seemed to be something he was allergic to. He'd never been terribly bullied, but Michael suspected that was due more to his intervention then because Sam was able to work his way out of anything himself. Michael often thought that if he wasn't there for Sam, things could have been much worse back where they lived before all this jumping from place to place.

Then there was Laddie. Lucy had tried to find his parents after the final battle. However, he'd insisted he'd never want to go back after what his family had done to him. The legal matter of holding onto a runaway was a whole can of worms Lucy wasn't prepared to handle.

That's when Grandpa stepped in to save the day. Or at least to admit that on top of taxidermy he was also knew a guy who could do some pretty convincing forgery of documents for a price. However, Grandpa was more than happy to help cover the costs and soon Lucy had to deal with the moral dilemma of what would be considered kidnapping. Michael thought she made the right choice by taking Laddie along, even if he did have to now go by a new name in order to not raise suspicion.

As far as Michael was concerned those abusive assholes could keep looking.

There was the matter of Laddie as a whole. Living with a den of vampires doesn't exactly encourage an environment for normal behavior. Laddie had spent a good amount of time being out of school and away from other kids his age. As a result he wasn't exactly well socialized and would often say things which while Michael and the others could brush off, might rub someone else the wrong way. Like suggesting that they should make some toys out of animal bones and play together. Not exactly something a normal kid suggests.

His sticky fingers were also a whole other deal which Lucy and Michael hadn't anticipated. Having been encouraged by David and the other members of his vampire gang when Laddie had lived with them, he'd developed the nasty habit of thinking stealing and picking pockets was a perfectly fine thing to do.

You wouldn't be able to tell looking at him sitting in the other window seat next to Sam who had been forced into the middle seat begrudgingly. His longer hair had been cut short into something less wild by Lucy, and dressed in a striped tennis shirt and a pair of cargo shorts. Looks can be deceiving, but Michael hoped that the little shrimp would be able to figure out the ins and outs of being in a normal school with a normal family.

"Look! We're almost there," Michael was pulled out of his thoughts by his mom pointing to the giant sign which marked the town of Hawkins, Indiana. Just another thirty minutes and they'd be there.

"Great 'cause I've really got to pee," Sam groaned while adjusting himself in his seat. He really did look uncomfortable.

"You always need to pee, it's like you don't have a bladder just made of pee."

"Laddie that's gross," Laddie giggled looking up from the colouring book he'd been working on at Sam's disgusted expression. Michael couldn't help but crack a small smirk at the little display.

"Why are you smiling? I can't help it. I have the bladder I'm born with."

"I didn't say anything Sam," Michael held up his hands in a defensive manner.

"You don't need to, I can see it on your face," Sam said shoving Michael's leg over, "and can you please stay out of my space, I'm crushed sitting here."

"The middle seat is the death seat in a car. Means your the most likely to die in a crash," Still working on his colouring book, Laddie weighed in.

"No it's not, that's the passenger seat dumbass."

"Sam, language."

"Yes it is."

"No it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"Christ! I can't take being in this car anymore with you, your so annoying," Sam groaned exasperatedly. Laddie looked over once again and blew a raspberry at Sam, which seemed to be the last straw.

Sam lunged over to Laddie's side of the seat and grabbed him, in the process kicking Michael in the shin and causing him to involuntarily knock into the back of Star's seat. Lucy jolted from the sudden burst of action in the back seat, slightly swerving the car on the road, nearly sending them into a patch of bushes alongside the road.

"Sam, what the hell!" Michael grabbed his brother and pulled him back from Laddie who was still giggling like this was somehow all a big joke he'd been responsible for.

" I swear to god, I'm gonna kill him!" Sam shouted struggling in Michael's grasp, kicking his shin again and causing him to grunt out.

"What is happ-" Star was cut off when the car came to an abrupt break-squealing halt, jerking everyone in their seats.

"That is enough!" Lucy yelled, causing everyone to fall silent. Turning in her seat to face the boys sitting in the back, all looking at her with slightly frightened eyes.

Lucy doesn't yell much, so Michael knew she'd just about had it if she was this angry right now.

"This behaviour is unacceptable. You've managed to sit with each other comfortably for most of the ride."

"Define comfortable," Sam grumbled under his breath.

"Sam. I don't want to hear it. Your supposed to be the older sibling in this situation, you don't attack your brother like that. Especially not when I'm driving!"

"Yeah, except he's not my brother," Laddie's eyes then became downcast. Michael noticed the now mischievous smile was wiped from his face replaced by something a lot darker. Michael didn't have a moment to really process this before Laddie had thrown open the door and ran out.

"Laddie!" Lucy called out after him frightened.

"Great, look what you did," Star said giving Sam a stern look before getting out of the car quickly to chase after Laddie.

Sam didn't say anything in response to this. Michael could tell that part of him felt conflicted with what he'd just said, but another part was to petulant to admit fault. Michael rolled his eyes and got out of the car to go after Star and Laddie, leaving Sam alone with his mom to get a stern talking to which he very much deserved.

Tensions had been high between everyone, but sometimes Michael didn't understand why Sam would say the things he would, especially when they all wanted the same thing. A normal life.

Star had stopped Laddie in the middle of the road. He'd run until she'd caught up to him and held him in her arms. As Michael got closer he could see that she was whispering to him, little things like that it was going to be okay and that he was her little brother.

Michael came around to face Laddie, crouching to be level with him. His face was already tearstained from when they started falling, most likely as soon as he ran out of the car.

"Hey," Michael said softly, giving Laddie a moment. Star slowly stopped whispering to him and looked over to Michael. He kept his focus on the younger boy with his painfully sad expression.

"Sam didn't mean it you know," reaching out, Michael brushed some of the tears from Laddie's face.

"He just doesn't know how to deal with not being the youngest, he's easily irritated and a bit of an ass."

"He did," it came out as a whisper, barely audible to Michael at first.

"He did," Laddie said a little louder. "He did mean it."

Michael didn't really know what to say to convince Laddie at this point. Sam really did sound like he meant what he said, and he rarely said something he didn't mean when he was angry.

"Look, Laddie, your my brother, and that's not gonna change," Michael watched as the boy slowly met his gaze.

"Give Sam time, he's just annoyed from being stuck in the car, he really does like you. You want to try going back to the car?"

"You can switch seats with me and sit in the front for a bit?" Star suggested, giving Laddie's shoulders a little hopeful squeeze.

"Okay," He said, using the back of his hands to brush the tears away from his face and sniffled. As the three of them made their way back to the car, Michael saw Sam now sitting in his window seat looking out into the endless dense forest.

Lucy had rolled down her window and leaned out looking down at Laddie with one of those sympathetic and genuinely concerned maternal expressions she was a pro at giving.

"Hey kiddo, you doing alright?" Laddie merely nodded in response.

"We were thinking he could sit up front with you for the rest of the ride," Star said.

"Great. You can hold the town map and help me navigate the rest of the way to the house. I know you're great with directions," Lucy smiled down at him, getting Laddie to return it with a smile just as enthusiastic, before bounding over to the passenger side of the car to get in and unfold the map. Before Michael could make his way into the back, Lucy stopped him by placing her hand on his arm as he passed her window.

"Michael, honey could you talk to Sam when we get to the new house. I think he could use a talk with you right now." As she expressed this Michael looked back over to his younger brother sitting in the backseat.

They'd all been through a lot, but Sam seemed to be taking really hard in a much more expulsive way. His fights with Laddie had only expounded these already existent cracks which Michael had started to notice in Sam's composure. Ever since their little adventure in Santa Carla, and Sam nearly losing Michael forever to the vampire gang he'd been seeing these cracks starting to form. The cracks that represented something which was slowly breaking his younger brother down.

Eventually Michael knew, he had to talk to Sam about it. However, how and when was going to be the real challenge. For now focusing on making it to their new home was what Michael wanted to focus on.

Please let this town be normal. Please let this be just what we need. Michael thought to himself. He was pretty sure there was going to be nothing which could be worse then their experience in Santa Carla. Nothing which could even hold a candle.

Hawkins was sure to be the perfect place to start fresh.

[taeyongfmd]

@minjungfmd //  2 + best friend rex orange county      →   may 2022

for the record, ash hates beer.

it tastes like rainwater left to collect in a pit in a field for a few days and doesn’t have enough alcohol in it to do anything for him even when he’s given his alcohol tolerance months to recover to normal human levels.

but he hadn’t felt like calling room service or ordering delivery and there’s no way he’s going to ask a manager to go out and get something more worthwhile like vodka or tequila and get subjected to an interrogation. so, he’d taken the overpriced beer out of the mini-fridge in his hotel room, laid himself out on the pressed cream-colored duvet and started flipping through television channels. he’d started with news delivered in a thinly-veiled dread-inducing tone and then passed through reruns of some mildly offensive mid-2000s sitcom and a game show that’s a clear knock-off of a more successful one. he makes it to some romance film about some guy in love with his best friend before he gives up and pretends to let it keep his attention for an audience of no one but himself.

suffice to say, he’s bored out of his mind and maybe some deep inner yearning speaks out action into the universe because his staring down the end of the empty beer bottle is interrupted when he sees the light of his phone screen in the corner of his vision. it only takes a moment for him to realize he’s in the middle of a facetime he hadn’t intended to start.

he fumbles to sit up and scoop his phone up from the other side of the bed, forehead wrinkled as he tries to figure out what happened. sense says his lazing around had pressed his elbow into just the right buttons to either make a call or answer one, but he looks no less confused as he steadies his own face into the frame.

“okay, i’m going to be honest; i don’t know what’s going on.” he hadn’t had enough to drink to completely forget he was on a facetime call with minjung. “not that i mind seeing your face or anything, but... uh, did i make this call or did you? because i didn’t mean to try and rope you into ‘ash kwon’s pathetic personal party for one’. america hasn’t turned me that sadistic yet.”

[macwantspeace]

"Monsters & Mayhem A49" Early voting sites are listed on the County Elections Page. "Wonderland Mall (by the Food Court)" Each year they relocate to another vacant store front. For two years it shared a big store space with that Spirit Halloween ghosty stuff store. I voted, Boo. One year I walked all around two levels, couldn't find it. I asked a clerk in a boots store. He led me by the hand down and around the corner. There it was hiding behind the escalator. One year they were having a Halloween Festival and every inch of floor space was tacky orange and black stuff, with sometimes fairy sparkles. Dozens of the tables had a boom box playing their personal tunes. A hundred people wandering in costumes with full makeup. This year.... It had a little waiting line rope next to a potted planter and a tiny carousel. I stood at the Stand Here sign. Had to step aside for a mall walker. I played with one of the three tiny horsies. I was allowed inside. Presented photo ID at the table. They don't give a fuck that I have an official voter registration card. Nobody has asked for that card for years. "Is this information valid?" Well, I think to myself in exasperation, I had to spend a whole day, and $6, and present seven documents to get that bloody ID. "Yes. The same for 30 years." Move over. The signature clipboard. I signed ***** above the line. "Do it over." Same signature a bit lower. "Follow her." Little girl starts to lead me into the next room with the vote boxes. She's saying something but it's Charlie Brown's teacher to me. I had forgotten to set my hears on high. "I can't hear you. Just point." She waves vaguely indicating everything in the room. But she led me to a box up on a chest high shelf. "This is great. I can see this." I dread going to the elementary school with the knee high tables. I pulled my list out of the backpack and commenced. Every blursed touch screen button was spaced wrong. It has a tiny check box next to the name. I touch the box with my big finger. Nothing. Crooked index finger. Nothing. Hammer it. I slowly learn that the tiny check box is not a button. The touch box is the name. I herein curse the programmer to live forever with festering fingertip blisters. I only got it wrong another fifteen times. But I finished. The machine printed out the strip of paper with my choices. I read it. Put my outdoor glasses back on. Backpack strap over shoulder and turned. Whence now? Ah. There is the machine that eats papers. I feed it. Then I start to walk back to the entrance. "SIR!" "Hmm?" "You need to exit this way." Oh.

[shop-korea]

MAIN - LIBRARY - HAS - HACKERS - ATTACKING

MIAMI - POLICE - IN HOUSE - ARMED SERVANTS

OF - FLORIDA - 27TH - STATE - 14TH - VIOLATED

‘NO - US - STATE - CAN - DEPRIVE - OR - DENY

ANY - PERSON - OF - LIFE - OR - LIBERTY’ - THE

RIGHT - 2 - SLEEP - EAT - DRINK - IN - PUBLIC

PLACES - PAID - BY - FEDERAL - TAX - LIKE THE

MAIN - LIBRARY - $500,000 - MAX - FINE - AND OR

IMPRISONMENT - PER - INCIDENT - EACH - DAY

THEY’VE - BEEN - OPEN - 4 - BUSINESS

NOW - NO - LATE - FEES - BUT - WASN’T

LIKE - THAT - EXTENDED - MY - REGULAR BOOK

NICHOLAS SPARKS - ‘THE - NOTEBOOK’ - FROM

16 DECEMBER - 2 - 16 JAN 2024 - HAD - 2 - YES

RETURN - MY - LARGE - PRINT - EDITION - GOT

3 BOOKS - 4 - THANKSGIVING - WEEK - BUT DID

NOT - READY - ANY - SO - MANY - ILLEGAL ACTS

THAT - AFFECTED - ME - BUT - LOVING - THE

REMOVAL - OF - TENT - WEEKDAYS - LOVING

THAT - MORE - AND - MORE - MY - TENT - HAS

BEEN - RESPONDING - 2 - MY - TOUCH - I’VE

BEEN - USING - 2 ROPES - 2 - GO - 2 - THE

MIDDLE - HOLE - 2 - KEEP - NEAR - 4 - THE

STRONGEST - WINDS - AS - COUNTY - EMPLOYEES

TRIED - 2 - PUT - ME - INSIDE - MY - $799.99 - TENT

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FENCE - SO - BIKINI - GIRLS - CAN - WALK - BY - SO

$25 - $45 - CONSTRUCTION - MALE - WORKERS CAN

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SOLELY - FR - 5:40A - MONDAYS - 2 - FRIDAYS - THUS

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COUNTY - HISPANICS - AND - BLKS - THEY - BROKE

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KNOW - AMAZON - PRIME - OVER - $17 - FOR - YES

ONLY - 17 FEET - TENTS - THE - POLES - 2 - REPLACE

BUT - HUMAN - STRENGTH - THE - BOTTOMS - COME

100 MPH - OR - 200 MPH - HURRICANE - WINDS - AS

THE - TENT - UNRAVELS - WHEN - I - WAS - USING

BLK - CLAMPS - LOVE - 500 LBS - CARRIER - AND

6 WHEELS - THE - SECRET - BUT - EXTREMELY

LOUD - AT - TILES - OF - MAIN LIBRARY - AS - I

WALK - SLOW - NO - SOUND - CARPETS - INSIDE

MY - EBT - FOOD - STAMPS - TOMORROW - $76

AS - HOMELESS - 22NDs - FROM - 12THs - AND

$15 - MOSTLY - OVER - 8 YEARS - JUST - THAT

$76 - FR - DEMOCRAT - PRESIDENT - JOE BIDEN

WAS - $46 - FR - MEMORY - FR - OVER - $278 - AT

LEAST - HOMELESS - IN - MIAMI - NICE - EBT $$$

HACKERS - AT - MAIN - LIBRARY

SWITCH - 2 - BRAVE - BROWSER - FREE

MY - DEFAULT - THE - BEAUTIFUL - THEME

PURPLES - AT - TOP - MOZILLA - FIREFOX

FASTEST - PRETTIEST - BLOCKS - ADS 2

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BRAVE - NOW - SLOWER - BUT - NOW I

AM - USING - WHILE - HACKER - ON THE

LOOSE - AT - MAIN - LIBRARY - A - BLK 

MALE - NOT - HISPANIC - CAN’T - BE 4

SMART - REQUIRED - HISPANICS ARE

NOT - THAT - SMART - SINCE - PRINCE

WILLIAM - THE - SMARTEST - OF THE

BRITISH - ROYALTY - THAT’s NOT YES

GOOD - I’M - MORE - INTELLIGENT THAN

HIM - THEN - MY - LIGHTNING - BRAIN 2

NOW - BOOST - INFINITE - USING

DOWNLOADS - OVER - 90 MBPS

SO - LIKE - THEY - CUT - ME OUT

COUNTY - KEPT - PUTTING - MY - TENT

ON - SIDES - THAT - THEY - SPLIT - TWO

POLES - MAJOR

GETTING - ORANGE - POP - UP - FOR

MIAMI - FLORIDA - NEEDS - POP - UP

TENT - BECAUSE - 75 MPH - WINDS R

SO - STRONG - TOSSING - UP - WHILE

HOLDING - IT - IS - BEST - THEN - YOU

TIE - THEM - UP - U - ONLY - NEED

YOURSELVES - DIY - WOMEN YES

THUS - LEAVING - IN - 1 HOUR FOR

THURSDAYS - 5P EST - B 4 - CHRISTMAS

IMPORTANT - THEIR - GIFTS - ALSO YES

SO - LEAVING - AT - 3:30P - WHILE - I’M

PUTTING - ALL - INSIDE - THEN AFTER

GOING - 2 - LA FITNESS - U - MUST

CONTINUE - TREADMILL - DANCE - WITH

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WITH - BELLY - DANCE - AND - CHRISTA’s

CARDIO - BOXING - WITH - ELEVATED YES

TREADMILL - IT - WILL - CHANGE - YOUR

BODY - TEMPERATURES - WEARING MY

JEANS - SHORTS - WHILE - ALL - ARE FL

VISIBLY - FREEZING

ANIMATED - WEATHER - GETTING - THE

$9.99 - FOR - A - LIFETIME

THEN - REAL - TEMPERATURES

REAL - WINDS - MPH - BECAUSE

FREE - VERSION - SO - PEOPLE - WON’T

B - SCARED - 2 - GO - OUT - THEY - WILL

NOT - FEAR - THE - REAL - WEATHER IN

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LOOKING - 4 - ONE - MORE - LIBRARIAN

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LOTTE - PINK - HELLO KITTY

CHOCOLATE - LOTTE PIE - SO - GOOD

12 - INDIVIDUALLY - WRAPPED COOKIES

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THE - SEE - THRU - BAGS - LIKE - FOUND

IN - WEDDINGS - WITH - MARSHMALLOW

FLAVORED - CHOCOLATE - COATED PIE

PINK - BOX - KEEPING - 4 - YEARS - GOT

AT - ROSS - DRESS - FOR - LESS

$4.99 - ADD - TAX - 7%

TUESDAYS - 55 AND OLDER - 10% - OFF

FLORIDA - OTHERS - IDENTIFICATION

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[thenewsart]

O.C. equestrians prep for wildfires without a countywide horse rescue team

Dee Dee Friedrich remembers how haphazard wildfire horse rescues used to be in Orange County before a team formed to cart animals to safety. In 2008, the Freeway Complex fire ignited in Corona and raged over the hills into Yorba Linda, where she lived. With a few hours to spare, Friedrich and her husband roped squealing pigs and guided distressed horses into a trailer and hauled them out. By the…

[ledenews]

The 'Greenhouse Getaway' - The 1992 Escape from the W.Va. Penitentiary - Part One

PREVIOUS ESCAPES There were countless escapes from the West Virginia Penitentiary.  Some means of escape were going over the tall walls with rope ladders, digging under the walls burrowed ten feet deep into the earth, through the Wagon Gates, dressed as women, one was even buried underneath a pile of stinky garbage in the outgoing garbage truck. One inmate attempted a creative escape.  He fashioned a hot air balloon out of mattress covers and took it to the top of the Industry Building. His escape was not successful as he couldn’t get it airborne. His attempt, as well has his spirit, deflated. While the inmates supplied the labor to build the gothic like architecture of the penitentiary from 1866 to 1870, there were 103 escapes and forty-six were never captured. According to The Tour at the West Virginia Penitentiary, there were 538 escapes from 1960 to 1995. In the late 60’s, prisoners who escaped were required to wear gray shirt and gray pants upon their return. The shirt had two white patches on front and one white patch on back that measured twelve by eighteen inches. The purpose of the patches was so Correctional Officers in the towers could easily spot them and watch them carefully. When a new inmate asked what the patches meant, he was told that those inmates were E.T.’s. Inmates with ‘escape tendencies’.  Camp Fair Chance, the 212-acre prison farm, had 160 inmates supervised by only four Correctional Officers. Since the escapes occurred frequently and were so easy, the farm was mocked as “Camp Sure Chance.” Those who did escape from Camp Fair Chance were rebuked by the other inmates who successfully escaped from the penitentiary. The Camp Fair Chance evaders were told, “You didn’t escape, you just walked off. You are a ‘walk-off’.” There were many other notable escapes but one fascinating one was perpetrated by Fred Hamilton, Tomie Mollohan, and David Williams.  All three inmates were convicted of murder and serving life sentences. Hamilton remains incarcerated today in the state's only maximum-security facility. FRED HAMILTON Frederick Dean Hamilton was born on January 22, 1958 in Greenfield, Ohio. As a young man, he excelled athletically. During Fred’s senior year of high school, he was ranked the third best golfer in the state of Ohio. Guy Sivert, the golf coach for Davis and Elkins College, recruited him on a full scholarship.  Fred’s future was bright. Blessed with athletic talent and a gregarious, popular young man in college, Fred appeared as if he had a perfect life.  Something snapped within him when he was nineteen years-old and he dropped out of college and began committing crimes. During his malicious six-week stint, Fred kidnapped car salesman Robert Kamauff of Cumberland, Maryland. He didn’t harm Kamauff and eventually released him on a deserted Maryland road.  Fred was arrested on October 12, 1978 for armed robbery and kidnapping when a stolen orange corvette was found in front of his house. He was initially housed in the Randolph County Jail. Two days later, Fred was taken to the Tucker County Jail by West Virginia State Trooper Bruce Brown. At the Parson, West Virginia jailhouse, Fred began devising a plan on how to escape and became unruly. Another State Trooper, Corporal Marshall Davisson stepped in to assist Trooper Brown in subduing the cantankerous young man. Fred pushed Trooper Brown aside and quickly snatched Trooper Davissons’ .357 caliber handgun from his holster. Both officers immediately grabbed Fred and two shots rang out. The first shot fired struck Corporal Davisson’s metal belt buckle and didn’t injure him. The second shot Fred fired hit Trooper Brown in the chest causing him to stagger to the nearby stoop where he collapsed. Four hours later, he breathed his last breath. When Tucker County Sheriff Darl Pine saw the commotion, he fired at Fred and struck him in the leg. Once Fred was hit, he stopped fighting and surrendered to them.  In a matter of several minutes, Fred’s bright future drastically dimmed. Once a gregarious, likable college student, now a convicted cop killer. Fred’s impulsive violent choice robbed Trooper Brown, a young man only 25 years old of his future.  Fred had previously escaped from the penitentiary in July 1984 while being medically treated at the Reynolds Memorial Hospital in Glen Dale, West Virginia.  When he exited the restroom in the prison ward of the hospital, he snatched a walkie-talkie from a correctional officer and absconded down a fire escape. He hid along Little Grave Creek and then surrendered to law enforcement authorities three days later. Inmate #3568074, Frederick Dean Hamilton, is now incarcerated at Mount Olive Correctional Complex in Montgomery, West Virginia. Mollohan's sentence was extended, of course, following the 1992 escape, and he later died behind bars. TOMIE MOLLOHAN Tomie Lee Mollohan was born in Miami, Florida on March 10, 1942 and eventually traveled up north to the Mountain State of West Virginia. He earned money by doing odd jobs for people and had a mechanical aptitude to fix things. Unfortunately, Tomie became tired of making a meager living and made a tragic choice. While milling around in Brounland, West Virginia, a small unincorporated town just thirteen miles southwest of Charleston, Tomie murdered Cebert Pauley. Tomie was staying in his cabin and on June 13, 1973, Pauley was discovered dead. His cabin was ransacked and his trouser pockets turned inside out. Pauley was known to carry a large amount of cash in his pants and that was missing when his body was found. Tomie’s fingerprints were found on the outside of a can of potted meat inside of the cabin. There were several witnesses that placed Tomie in the vicinity of the cabin before the murder. Tomie was arrested on March 19, 1973 in Manchester, New Hampshire by the police. West Virginia State Troopers Haynes and Shaw were sent to transport him back for trial. During the trip back, Tomie confessed to the troopers he was the one who murdered Cebert Pauley according to the court case, State v. Mollohan, no. 13927. Tomie later recanted his statement but the court felt there was sufficient evidence to convict him.  He was sentenced to life in prison. Sadly, this wasn’t the first time Tomie took someone’s life. In Bluefield, West Virginia, there had been a widely publicized unsolved murder that occurred on December 28, 1972.  66-year-old, Mary Osborne, a member of the First Church of God on South Street, helped clean the church. She was found at the church savagely beaten to death with a hammer.   Tomie testified he took the bus and traveled through Bluefield the day of the murder but had not gone to the church.  The Mercer County Prosecutor stated the church is only fifty feet from the bus terminal. In September 2017, the F.B.I. was able to close this cold case by connecting Tomie’s fingerprints near the scene of the crime. Tomie was convicted of this murder as well.    The greenhouse getaway was not the first time Tomie escaped the penitentiary. He, David Williams, and Bobby Stacy, who killed a Huntington police officer in 1982, escaped on April 3, 1988. They broke into the basement of the old Administration building and found bolt cutters in a metal locker. They then jumped through a side window and landed behind a large ventilation unit that was being installed. When the coast appeared clear, they ran to the chain link fence along Jefferson Avenue and cut their way to freedom. When Tomie left the penitentiary, he headed south to a town called Cameron, which is approximately nineteen miles away. He had been spotted a few times and police found lean-to shelters he probably built by Fork Ridge.  He also broke into at least two homes where he stole guns, blankets and clothing. At one of the homes, he left a note which detailed what he stole and that when he got some money, he would pay them back. Two weeks after escaping, Tomie was almost captured near Beeler’s Station off of U.S. Route 250. Marshall County Deputy Denise Hart saw him with a suitcase and stopped him asking for identification. While she checked his identification, he ran into a thick wooded area and escaped.  Deputy Hart fired five shots at him but missed. Tomie was apprehended on May 9, 1988 by Cameron Police Chief Charles Kotson. Tomie returned to the West Virginia Penitentiary until his next escape in 1992. After his capture then, he did not escape again and died at the Mount Olive Correctional Complex in Montgomery, West Virginia. The Old West Virginia Penitentiary at Moundsville is very popular tourism destination today. DAVID WILLIAMS David Williams was a hard-working coalminer who kept to himself.  However, the terrible choices of one evening changed his future.  David and an accomplice crossed the line of civility and committed a horrific crime. On Sunday, December 7, 1980, Harold Testerman returned home to Marytown in McDowell County.  He had been hunting and he told his neighbor he would be going to a wake of a neighbor at approximately 5:30 p.m.  But his truck remained in his drive-way all day which caused suspicion. At 11:15 p.m., a neighbor saw two people recklessly driving away from Testerman’s house.  Fifteen minutes later, another neighbor reported a fire at Testerman’s house.  After the fire was extinguished, the firefighters and police noticed the house was extremely disorderly as desks and drawers were tossed haphazardly through the rooms. Then there was a ghastly discovery of the charred remains of Testerman in the living room. At Testerman’s autopsy, the coroner, Dr. Ivin Sopher, revealed his cause of death was severe head injuries with a blunt object.  He was alive when the fire began but would have passed away because of the intensity of his wounds.  Several witnesses came forward and stated that David Williams and Floyd Franklin had been seen at Testerman’s house after he returned from hunting. Floyd Franklin was arrested first and charged with murder, arson, and robbery.  Franklin admitted to stealing from Testerman but claimed he had nothing to do with the fire or the murder.  In April 1981, Franklin is convicted of charges of robbery but acquitted of the murder and arson charges.  Franklin received forty years in the penitentiary. Williams could not be found at first but was tracked down to his family’s house in Big Jenny Hollow in McDowell County on January 16, 1981.  When the police arrived at the residence, they were told he was not there.  They did consent to a search of the property and Williams was found hiding under a bed in one of the bedrooms.   When Williams was tried, he was convicted of first-degree murder, arson, and robbery.  He was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.   Williams constantly attempted to escape in the penitentiary.  In 1983, he tried to climb over the wall by Tower 4 with a rope fashioned from a sheet.  In 1985, a plot was discovered where he was going to escape from the prison dining hall.  He, Mollohan, and Stacy were successful in the 1988 escape but he was captured in McDowell County shortly after they escaped. It has been reported that David William committed suicide by hanging himself in his cell at the Mount Olive Correctional Complex on December 18, 2018. Read the full article

[ausetkmt]

Group rallies for answers after woman found hanging from tree in Orlando

ORLANDO, Fla. — Orlando’s City Hall was a place of mourning, anger and suspicion Tuesday evening as dozens gathered on its steps demanding answers about the death of a woman found hanging from a tree in her backyard last week.

Yolna Lubrin, 31, who went by the nickname Yo-Yo, was cut down by Orlando police officers Thursday morning at her home in the 1000 block of West Livingston Street, according to the department. She was pronounced dead at the scene.

A crowd or more than 60 people gathered outside City Hall around 7 p.m. to hear from community advocates and family members of Lubrin, including her mother, aunt, uncle and sister. According to family members, she was her mother’s caregiver.

“My sister is an African-American woman. Why is she getting swept under the rug?” Naomi Lubrin, her sister, asked at the rally. “She was brilliant, she was amazing, she was laughter, but most of all she was loud.”

Naomi Lubrin asked the crowd to be like her sister and loudly continue to ask law enforcement officers to further investigate her death.

Speakers and others in attendance at the rally yelled “justice for Yo-Yo” multiple times.

Over the last several days the death has sparked tension between community members who say police officers were quick to judge her death a suicide and law enforcement officers who claim the investigation is being handled sensitively.

“They are immediately ruling it as a suicide, but finding any black person hanging from a tree in 2023 requires more investigation no matter what,” Miles Mulrain, an advocate who runs local nonprofit Let Your Voice Be Heard, said on social media the day after Lubrin was found dead.

He added that emotions are still raw over the killing of Nevan Baker, 22, who was found hanging by a rope from a tree in October 2020 near Camping World Stadium.

“This is not the first time or the first time in a while this has happened in Orlando,” Mulrain said on Facebook. “Just in 2020 we were asking the same questions about Nevan Baker, who was found hanging in a tree in a very suspicious way for it to be a suicide.”

Before the rally OPD released more details regarding Lubrin’s death in response to alleged false information being spread on social media.

“Although her cause of death is still being investigated and will ultimately be decided by the Orange County Medical Examiner’s Office, the deceased individual’s documented history of mental illness, witness statements, cellular communications from Ms. Lubrin, and the physical evidence observed during the autopsy all point to suicide,” OPD said Tuesday in an email to media outlets.

So far, the investigation has not revealed any physical injuries other than the ligature marks on the neck caused by the hanging, OPD said.

“Every call officers and detectives respond to, especially those that involve the death of an individual, is never taken lightly. There are various factors involved when responding to an incident, from conducting life saving measures to utilizing investigative methods to determine what led to the death of the individual. Detectives and victim advocates are in contact with the deceased individual’s loved ones,” OPD said.

If you or someone you know may be struggling with their mental health and are contemplating suicide, please call 9-1-1 or the National Suicide and Crisis Lifeline at 9-8-8.

[bhvna]

Discover the Best Resorts in and Around Coorg for an Unforgettable Retreat

Coorg, often referred to as the “Scotland of India,” is a mesmerizing hill station located in the state of Karnataka. Known for its lush coffee plantations, misty hills, and rich cultural heritage, Coorg is a popular tourist destination that offers a perfect escape from the hustle and bustle of city life. To enhance your Coorg experience, we’ve compiled a list of some of the best Resorts in and around coorg this beautiful region, promising a memorable and rejuvenating retreat.

1. The Tamara Coorg Nestled in the heart of Coorg’s untouched beauty, The Tamara Coorg is a luxury resort that offers breathtaking views of the surrounding hills and coffee estates. The resort provides a perfect blend of luxury, tranquility, and nature, making it an ideal destination for those seeking a serene escape.

- Features : — Private cottages with stunning valley views. — Infinity pool overlooking the picturesque landscapes. — Gourmet dining experiences with locally sourced ingredients.

2. Orange County, Coorg

A name synonymous with luxury, Orange County is a lavish resort that epitomizes the charm of Coorg. Situated amidst a 300-acre working coffee and spice plantation, this resort showcases the essence of Coorg’s natural beauty.

- Features : — Private pool villas for a lavish stay. — An Ayurvedic spa for holistic wellness treatments. — Guided plantation tours and nature walks.

3. The Ibnii Spa Resort Embraced by the coffee plantations, The Ibnii Spa Resort is an eco-luxury resort that offers an intimate and immersive experience of Coorg’s serene environment. It focuses on sustainability and responsible tourism.

- Features : — Luxury wooden cottages with modern amenities. — Signature spa treatments amidst the tranquility of nature. — Adventure activities like trekking and birdwatching.

4. Amanvana Spa Resort Tucked along the banks of the river Kaveri, Amanvana Spa Resort is a Resorts in and around coorg nature lover’s paradise. Surrounded by lush greenery and the soothing sounds of the river, this resort promises a rejuvenating and peaceful stay.

- Features : — Riverside private bungalows for an intimate stay. — A world-class spa offering a range of wellness treatments. — Yoga pavilion and meditation spaces for relaxation.

5. Coorg Cliffs Resorts

Perched on a cliff overlooking the verdant Coorg landscape, Coorg Cliffs Resorts offers a blend of luxury and adventure. The breathtaking views and modern amenities make it an excellent choice for a memorable getaway.

- Features : — Spacious rooms and cottages with panoramic views. — Multi-cuisine restaurant serving delectable dishes. — Adventure activities like zip-lining and rope courses.

[billconrad]

Riding A Bike Helps Everything

    At age six, an enormous box was under the Christmas tree. When I tore off the wrapping, I saw the picture of a Toys Are Us Geoffrey Giraffe bicycle. Unfortunately, it was not all good news because several parts broke when my father and I assembled the bike. Yes, my bike was junk, but I loved the freedom, adventure, and adulthood that bike riding represented.

    My bike was orange, with a striped banana seat and a flag. Of course, I needed training wheels and had difficulty mastering balance. During those early years, I had several accidents. Bike helmets were not standard gear then, and I was lucky I did not crack my head open. I still have two visible scars from crashing.

    That bike quickly fell apart, and my mother bought me a black Schwinn from a church friend. What a machine. It got stolen a year later, and my mother purchased a red Schwinn from the classified ads. Not a great bike, but I rode it everywhere, including school. However, there were limitations, specifically the hills around our neighborhood.

    I needed a bike with gears; five years later, my father gave me his ten-speed. It required brakes, shifters, and seat repairs, but I quickly fell in love with this new capability. My favorite activity was exploring the canyon behind our house. I took a weekly four-hour ride from 1985 to 1988.

    That bike broke when I tried to jump a curb, and my dad purchased a chrome Raleigh mountain bike for my eighteenth birthday. This machine was incredible, and an entirely new level of adventures opened up. Plus, it looked fantastic. I rode that bike for many years, exploring canyons, and it followed me to Orange County, California, where I tried to get an engineering job.

    At that time, there were few jobs in San Diego, and I hoped the larger cities around Orange County would have better prospects. But, alas, I ended up at Kinko’s making copies—a degrading and menial experience. On top of my job difficulties, not having a girlfriend or professional work stressed me out.

    To ease my tensions, I began taking bike rides after work. This physical activity improved my mental outlook, plus it was healthy. But what is the stress reduction difference between a bike ride and some other physical activity? I have run, lifted weights, walked, swam, meditated, tried yoga, danced, skipped rope, hiked, and stretched for exercise. While these are excellent physical activities, I did not find they were good at relieving stress

    Why? Cycling takes tremendous focus at some stages and almost none at others. It is a three-dimensional activity with scenery, challenges, danger, and physical exertion. The success is evident at the journey’s end because the rider has advanced from one location to another.

    What is my stress-reducing process? At the beginning of a ride, I only concentrate on riding. Then, about ten minutes later, I relax, and my focus drifts from the ride to other areas. This supporting mindset allows me to think about issues, problems, friends, my job, solutions, life, and relationships. Yet, sometimes, my mind ends up going to baffling places.

    Do I listen to music or a podcast to help me relax? No, this is a special time, and I do not want to experience somebody else’s creations. Instead, the scenery, other riders, trail challenges, and physical exertion provide entertainment and a natural distraction. Such genital distractions help my creativity and problem-solving by breaking up thoughts, which means that one thought does not dominate my time.

    Do I recommend bike riding to others? Yes and no. Exercise has become a religion for many people. If a new person begins lifting weights, baseball, or boxing, they can be hazed by the experienced. I would never try to push my beliefs toward others.

    I can attest that bike riding helps me, and everybody should be physically active for many reasons, including mental health. Bike riding is not for everyone because it is dangerous, and unlike a treadmill, riders must keep going when they get tired.

  You’re the best -Bill

  May 31, 2023

  Hey book lovers, I published three. Please check them out!

  Interviewing Immortality is a psychological thriller about a 500-year-old woman who forces a disgraced author to interview her.

  Pushed to the Edge of Survival is a drama, romance, and science fiction story about two unlikely people surviving a shipwreck and living with the consequences.

  Cable Ties is a classic spy novel about two hunters discovering that government communications are being recorded and the ensuing FBI investigation.

  These books are available in soft-cover on Amazon and eBook format everywhere.

[brandonimhotep]

‘They’re Sweeping It Under the Rug’: Furious California mother of a fifth grader at Santiago Elementary School in Santa Ana, California, held a protest to demand answers from the school after she claimed her daughter was bullied and called a slave. Jasmine Harris said that the alleged incident took place on March 1 during lunch. Her 10-year-old daughter, Paris Barnes, was playing with friends when, according to her account, a male classmate whipped a jump rope at her and told her “Get back to work, you slave.” Harris said that she was not pleased with the response she got from administrators on campus or the Santa Ana Unified School District. She wanted to know whether the little boy was disciplined. She also took to social media to garner support for her daughter. “It was very disrespectful and I just felt really hurt inside,” Barnes said. Harris, along with a dozen other parents, held a small protest on the sidewalk adjacent to the school on Monday afternoon. “I want the little boy to get expelled. I want them to do something about this,” Harris said. Harris has pressed charges against the minor boy through the Orange County District Attorney’s Office for a hate crime and attempted assault on a minor. Jessica Garcia and Maria Gomez were two of the parents among the dozen that protested. Both expressed their dissatisfaction of how the incident was handled by school administrators. “I don’t think it’s fair that so many parents are going through the same thing,” said Garcia. “They see that it’s so many kids involved and there’s nothing being done about it.” “There’s clearly a [systemic] issue that no one is paying attention to,” Gomez said. Jerry Almendarez, the school district superintendent, told ABC 7 News that his staff is working with the two families for them to sit down and come up with a solution. Harris’ daughter said she doesn’t feel comfortable going back to school as of right now. “I’m not really comfortable going back to school because I don’t know if he’ll do it again because no one really, like, said if he was going to be in that much trouble,” Paris said. Article: AtlantaBlackStar Video: beautiful jasmine/Tiktok @wonderwombman https://www.instagram.com/p/CqG_lcGgOFr/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[supriorsign]

Wide Format Printed Banners Help You Stand Out in Buena Park CA!

Orange County custom banners are a staple for members of the Buena Park business community. Whether it is a housing community, condominium complex or boutique store, there is nothing quite as eye-catching as a banner flapping in the occasional breeze. Of course, there are also plenty of other applications that this well-designed customized product could fulfill.

Special Announcements

Whether you are announcing the grand opening of your new toy store or the long-awaited availability of a coveted product, do not leave the announcement to the newspaper. Alert passersby and motorists to your location and product availability. Full-color graphics, digital photos, your company logo and even some varied background textures will lend interest and zing to your exterior banner. We can modify your signage to attach with customized pole pockets, via D-rings or with hemmed in ropes that make display setup a snap.

Temporary News and Seasonal Information

Temporary banner signs are the ideal solution for seasonal holiday specials that you do not run every week. By the way, if you are waiting for Superior Signs and Graphics to deliver your permanent exterior signage, hang one our short-term markers to let would-be customers know what type of business you are running. When you are ordering a temporary sign well ahead of your grand opening, it also serves as some pre-opening marketing to whet consumers’ appetites for your up and coming store.

Organizations and Special Events

Banners for Buena Park, CA, do not just benefit the local business community. There are plenty of community, athletic and faith-based organizations that use them for special events, during meets and for stage setups. Whether you are welcoming a new preacher, coach or director, turn banners into welcoming markers and way-finding tools for visitors and members alike. If you are a regular at local and nationwide tradeshows, you already know that customized banner displays are big hits for creating a buzz and getting attendees to visit your booth.

What Makes Banners so Popular?

The durability of vinyl, fabric or canvas as well as the pizzazz of full color graphics are just a few reasons why this kind of signage is a favorite in sunny Southern California. While rain is rare, the rays of the sun tend to fade and dry out materials quickly. As a result, these banners are made to last. Another plus is the lightweight nature of these markers. You do not need two people to transport them, hang them up or take them down.

Since they roll up easily and store horizontally or vertically, they fit into even the most crammed corner of your closet or storage unit. In short, this signage will not take up valuable space but can be rolled up only to unfurl again in a year when it comes time for the seasonal holiday messages to be displayed again. This is not something you can achieve as easily with any other marketing message product.

If you are thinking of adding custom banners to your advertising repertoire, request a free quote. We can take your ideas and turn them into beautiful messages that are sure to stand out. Since we can fully customize the product, go ahead and include your logo, slogan, personalized digital photos and even specialized color schemes that will help with branding and name recognition.

[importanttigercreation]

Welcome to the news channel of the Angry Nature, Today we will tell you about Tropical Storm Nicole, Hurricane Nicole has been blamed for at least five deaths in Florida. As Nicole threatens the Carolinas and Virginia on Friday with tornadoes and flooding, Floridians -- many still recovering from Hurricane Ian - ripped apart buildings with its dangerous storm surge and powerful winds. Officials at the Orange County Sheriff's Office said two people were electrocuted by a downed power line early Thursday in Orlando. The power line fell as Nicole barreled across the Florida Peninsula after making landfall about 3 a.m. Thursday just south of Vero Beach, Florida, as a Category 1 hurricane on the Saffir-Simpson Hurricane Wind Scale. More than 300,000 power outages were reported across the Sunshine State as of early Thursday afternoon. Two other people died in a crash on Florida’s Turnpike in the county Thursday morning, according to Orange County Mayor Jerry Demings at a news conference. A Central Florida man died during Nicole early Thursday morning, according to the Cocoa Police Department. Thomas Whittle, 68, of Port Canaveral was unresponsive when police found him and his wife on their yacht that was docked at Lee Wenner Park in the town of Cocoa.  First responders tried to perform CPR on Whittle, while waves battered the yacht and caused it to float away from the dock. Responders were able to rope the boat in and then bring Whittle to the hospital, where he later died. Cocoa police state the cause of death is still under investigation. #storm_nicole #florida_nicole #angry_nature #hurricane_nicole #nicole #tropical_storm _______________________________ The channel lists such natural disasters as: 1) Geological emergencies: #earthquake  #volcanic_eruption  mudflow, #landslide landfall, avalanche; 2) Hydrological emergencies:  #flash_flood #tsunami  Limnological catastrophe, floods, flooding; 3) Fires: Forest fire, Peat fire, Glass Fire, Wildfire; 4) Meteorological emergencies: #tornado, ATTENTION: All videos are taken from open sources. The selection is based on publication date, title, description, and venue. Sometimes, due to unfair posting of news on social networks, the video may contain frames that do not correspond to the date and place. It is not always possible to check all videos. We apologize for any errors! Thank you for watching, don't forget to subscribe our channel, We Wish you good Weather,