#rafting in georgia

[gudauriadvanture]

Aragvi River Rafting with Gudauri Adventure

Experience the thrill of white water rafting on the Aragvi River with Gudauri Adventure - one of the best and safest forms of entertainment in Georgia. Our expert guides, top-quality equipment, controlled environment, and range of rapids make it a perfect adventure for all levels. Plus, the stunning scenery and bonding experience will create unforgettable memories that will last a lifetime. Book your trip today and get ready for an adventure of a lifetime!

[retropopcult]

The Ramblin’ Raft Race on the Chattahoochee River, photographed May 1977 by Nick DeWolf.

[georgiagambino]

Ramon Novarro, Joan Crawford \ Randolph Scott, Claudette Colbert Rock Hudson, Yvonne Decarlo \ George Raft, Carole Lombard

[faniya]

martvili canyon, georgia.

[nickdewolfarchive]

Atlanta, Georgia May 1977

Ramblin' Raft Race Chattahoochee River

Photograph by Nick DeWolf https://www.flickr.com/photos/dboo/4383142790

[rogersideup]

Nice to be Kneaded

Chapter one:

Welcome to Greenwood

Series Masterlist

Next Part: Inhale, Exhale.

Word Count: 4,893

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

The sound of the bell rattling on the front door pulled your mind away from the cake on the rotating stand in front of you and the piping bag in your hand. Coincidentally, you had just sent your cashier to break so you moved your work station to the decorating desk visible to the doorframe into the kitchen of your bakery, allowing you to see the customers as they walked in.

"Hey there, honey! I'll be right with ya'." You greeted the customer as you piped out the final details on the custom ordered cake you had spent the last half an hour perfecting.

"No worries, take your time." A polite voice responded.

Your head immediately turned at the sound of the deep and slightly raspy voice you had never heard before. In a scanty little town like Greenwood, you swore just about every friendly face within thirty miles of your bakery had stopped by for a treat at least once. You could recognize just about anyone with a blindfold on and nothing but the sound of a friendly greeting, but that charming bass was one you'd be sure to recognize if you've heard it before.

It belonged to a face you'd also be sure to recognize. An over six-foot stunner with blue eyes, a nicely groomed beard, and what looked like dirty blonde hair hidden behind a baseball cap.

You grinned before looking back at your cake, trying to process the new specimen in the lobby. It only took a few seconds before placing the piping bag down and ripping off your gloves, curiously walking out to behind the counter to help him out.

"Sorry about that, what can I get'cha?" Since you closed most of the distance, nothing but the bake case between you two, you got to notice more detail.

There was some serious muscle happening underneath the black long sleeved shirt he was wearing. Also, he was really good at picking out jeans that fit him perfectly in all the right places. Oh, and there was just a dash of green in the blue of his eyes.

"Just a chocolate chip cookie please." He asked timidly. You could tell he felt a little out of place, rocking back and forth on his heels in attempts to sooth his unsettled energy.

"Anything else?" You grinned.

"No thank you." He gently shook his head and walked over to the register as you put his cookie in a pastry bag.

"Okay but I'm giving you two cookies, because I think anyone who only gets one cookie is lying to themselves." You called out with a friendly smile, earning a chuckle from the man.

It allowed you to get a good look at his smile. He had pretty pink lips and perfect pearly whites.

Now, it was time for the investigative process you perfected to the tee. It usually started with an extra cookie and a big sparkling smile, followed by some friendly questions, and ending with a 'hope to see you again sometime soon'. You didn't mean to be invasive, really, you just needed to have all the answers when your neighbor, Georgia, asks for more information once you inevitably ask her if she knows anything about the new stunner in town.

"Well thank you, I appreciate that." He grinned, pulling the wallet out of his jeans.

"I don't think I've seen you around before, are you driving through?" You asked.

Steve shifted once more as he thought about how to answer this question. Almost every news station in the country was covering the chase for the missing superheroes post-raft-escape following the Civil War. His face had been plastered on every the cover of every news paper, fliers stapled to street lamps, posted on bulletin boards in what felt like every coffee shop in the country. If he was still in the 40's he was sure his face would take the place of the missing persons on the sides of milk cartons.

It had been just a few long months shy of a year , just long enough to grow out his hair and beard to make himself as unrecognizable as he could manage. Though he was still the poster boy of disorder within the states, it had calmed down enough for him to feel comfortable trying to settle down for as long as he safely could.

He finally found someone to rent him a house in a town quaint enough for his liking that was willing to accept under the table cash payments in rent, no proof of income, and didn't ask too many questions.

"I'm actually moving to Greenwood in the next couple days, I just picked up the keys to my new place. Saw the bakery sign and decided to stop by, figured a new start is grounds for a little celebrating." Steve explained, convincing enough.

All he could do was cross his fingers in hopes you didn't care about politics or the news enough to recognize his face.

"Really? What made you want to move here?"

He shrugged, and his lips stretched into a straight line. "Just wanted to go somewhere quiet and relaxing I guess. You know, the simple life."

"Well, most people here spend their days chasing something a bit more exciting and busy. I think you're in for exactly what you hoped for" You reassured him. "I'm sorry, honey, I didn't catch your name?"

The pet name that seemed to run off your tongue without a second thought felt warm and welcoming to him. In the big city, a sentiment like that was a title that was typically earned, but here it was given with almost an immediate understanding that everyone around was inherently good and trustworthy. He almost didn't want to tell you his name so he could keep hearing the word slip passed your lips.

"Oh, sorry!" He apologized. "I'm Steven."

Steven? Really? Already off to a bad start. He told himself when he settled down for a bit he'd be distant to the people around him. Never get too close, never tell the truth, go by an alias. But for some reason, he just couldn't get himself to lie to you. You just seemed too sweet for that.

As he took another look around his new surroundings, he chalked it up to be the homey atmosphere of the bakery. The walls were covered in tasteful art installations, celebrating the very pastries that were being perfectly displayed in the illuminated case. Although the color schemes of earth tones, contrasting yet complementary wood colors and grains, and mixed metals seemed like it wouldn't work for a bakery, it worked for this bakery. It was warm and inviting; the polished concrete floors reminded him of the home he once knew. The wall-full of jarred sprinkles in all sorts of different blends and colors to match with the bakery and playfully pull the interests of customers eyes made him feel a sense of child like wonder again.

The booths were built into cozy corners, there were lounge areas with low to the floor tables with alternate seating, a tasteful shelf full of board games for families and friends alike to play together while enjoying a coffee and a treat.

It smelled like browning butter and vanilla beans. There were throw pillows on the booths and lounges. On the main wall behind the bake case and above the beautiful espresso machines read the name of the shop, 'Nice to be kneaded' in a warm golden neon glow.

Steven it is.

"Well, Steven," You handed him the bag of cookies, he hesitated to take them from you. "Everyone who decides to make a home out of Greenwood deserves a warm welcome. Here's to a quiet and relaxing new start."

"Thanks I appreciate it" He smiled. "How much for the cooki-"

"They're on me today" You insisted.

"I couldn't possibly do that" he declined the offer. He was used to the generous hand outs as Steve Rogers, but never just as Steven. "Please let me pa-"

"Nope." You stepped back from the register. "Take them and go before I force you to take a third one!"

"So threatening!" He smiled and put his hands up in defense. "Thank you so much"

"Of course, have a good day! Hope to see you again soon." You waved, walking back into the kitchen to finish off the cake that was almost near perfect.

"Have a good one"

After finishing up the cake, you tagged the board with the invoice of the correct customer, then walked it back into the front to the cake display fridge to pop it in so it would be perfect and ready for pickup later that day.

You started tidying up the lobby of the store by re-organizing all of your retail items. Cute candy bars, greeting cards made by local artists, birthday candles, and the wall shelves full of sprinkles. You had a knack for making sure your store looked perfect and pristine at all times. It took a lot of blood, sweat and tears to get to where you were now, so you'd be damned if you let it be anything less than perfect.

You tidied up the bake case one last time and straightened up the register before the tip jar caught your eye, inside of it was a crisp $20 bill that definitely wasn't there before Steven.

Though there were a few customers in the store, all of them were students looking for a calm place to study. Headphones over their ears, their noses dug into their laptops. None of them had even moved in the last twenty minutes.

The smile and eye roll that took over your face was almost invasive, and you instantly knew the polite man would have no issue fitting in here in Greenwood.

Though you let your precious employees keep their well earned tip, you did take a $20 bill out from your own wallet and vowed to keep it with you every day until you hopefully found Steven again.

Just like every other day, you stayed at work until it was far too late before locking up and going home. You didn't even get passed your open car door in the driveway before your beloved neighbor Georgia was exiting her front door and running out of her house to greet you.

"It's about damn time, sweet cheeks, I was near ready to file a missing persons report!" She enthused.

Georgia never failed to be your best friend, gossip buddy, and the honorary mother you always wished you had. She'd send her husband to bed alone all night just to stay up and make sure you got home okay if she knew you were out late.

"Sorry" you giggled, grabbing the box of pastries you brought home with you and handing them to her. "Busy day! Treats for your troubles?"

She happily took the box from you knowing that whenever she was given one, there was always something mind-meltingly delicious on the inside. "You know Michael and I have put on a good five pounds in the last few months, and I fully blame you for it."

"Hey! I know you love a big boy, I'm doing you nothing but favors." You denied the blame. "Plus, you're pretty as a peach. A sweet thing like you deserves a sweet treat at least once a day."

"I ran over here to tell ya, we're hosting game night for the block on Saturday. If you don't come I'm going to keep rescheduling it until you do." She insisted.

"Saturday sounds lovely." You accepted the invitation. "What can I bring?"

"Just your pretty face"

"Okay, I'll bring salted caramel bars" You smiled.

"Bring a date" Georgia insisted.

"Now now, watch yourself..." You scolded, pointing your finger at her.

"You've been living in this beautiful house all by your lonesome for three years now. You know all I want is for you to be happy"

"I'm happy all on my own." You insisted with a smile you really had to force yourself to smear across your face. "I don't need a man to make me happy, I've got everything I need."

"You've got no one to prove that to but yourself, sweet cheeks." Georgia reached out and pinched your cheek between her fingers lovingly once she saw how deflated you became..

"Believe it or not, it's kind've hard to find someone worth your time in greenwood when your only options are guys you've already tried your hand at" You defended yourself.

"And what's wrong with that?" Georgia sassed.

"All the good ones are married, and all the bad ones are still bad. So if you don't mind, I'll be bringing some salted caramel bars on Saturday." You smiled.

"I haven't given up hope, and you shouldn't either!"

"Who said anything about giving up hope?" You furrowed your brows together and cocked your head to the side.

"...you have a good night now darlin'" Georgia smiled with a slight chuckle before waving and starting to walk away.

"Mmmmhmmm" You sassed. "Enjoy those pastries."

"I always do!"

The moment you walked into your humble abode, you could feel the weight of your day fall off your shoulders. Even more so as you put down your bag, kicked off your shoes, and dragged your feet up the stars with a heavy thunk on each step just to get yourself into the warm shower you had been dreaming of since waking up at 3:30am. 

Just like a responsible adult, you cooked and fed yourself dinner then ate it on the couch with a thick faux fur blanket over your lap while watching The Great British Baking Show. Georgia liked to yell at you when she invasively yet also somehow welcomely showed up at your house with no warning and caught you using your time away from baking to, well, watch a show about baking?

Your defense was that their recipes are just so different over there! The difference in American and British flavor palettes was immense, and you loved getting new ideas for fun new pastries and flavors to implement onto the rotating menu.

After scolding you, you'd point to the Television above your fireplace to show her how they were doing a technical challenge to bake the perfect Victoria sponge cake, a quintessential and uniquely british dessert, and how that was so much different than your typical vanilla sponge in the States. Then, it would peak her interest.

You were never really sure if she was actually interested, or if she only payed attention because she desperately thought you needed someone to listen to you. Sometimes when you babbled on about baking, she would slow blink at your before gently saying, "Baby, you might as well be speaking a whole other language to me right now, but I'm just so happy you're doing what you love."

She'd get comfortable on your couch as you made her a cup of tea, the end up staying until her husband Michael called and reminded her that she had a husband at home.

But tonight you were happy to just be shoving some pesto pasta in your face with the company of no one but Netflix in complete peace. The small sensation of an almost distant ache in the back of your head also had you thankful that they had finally either finished, or were taking a break from construction on the little house next door to yours.

You didn't mind it much at first, you were gone for most of the day to miss the sounds of sawing and jackhammering, but sometimes the sounds would continue even after sunset and keep you awake past your geriatric bedtime. Sleep was very important when you had to wake up before the sun.

But your mama raised you to love thy neighbor and keep patience and grace close to your heart, so you bit your tongue for five long months and occasionally showered the construction workers in warm breakfast sandwiches and croissants. You hoped that their awareness to the neighbors occupation would keep them from working late into the night, but nope. You just continued biting your tongue a little harder.

Even worse than you was Andy and Phoebe that lived two doors down, the construction happened sandwiched between you two, and they had their new born baby girl at home through all of that banging and drilling. Apparently little Willow could now sleep through anything. Their dog barking at the sound of a door bell wasn't even an equal contender against the baby who had been subconsciously trained to stay calm in the midst of chaos.

You were in bed by 7 pm, up at 3am, back at work by 4am with $20 in your back pocket. A little part of you felt stupid while slipping the green bill into your denim jeans, it was quite delusional to assume the man would be back so soon, let alone at all, but a bigger part of you couldn't stand that his free cookies were not free.

The empty bake case was filled to the brim by 6:30am, all custom orders were done by 7. You barely even got a chance to wipe the sweat off your hairline from your face being in front of the oven before taking off your chefs coat and hair net and switching it to a front-of-house apron.

You had an excellent team of trained bakers, decorators, baristas, and a cashier, but that didn't stop you from getting your hands dirty by any means. Though your team was mighty, collectively you were tiny. Only 9 employees to hold the busiest bakery in the greater area down, you tended to step in wherever you were needed the most.

Today, you just happened to be taking orders and handing out latte's through morning rush before dedicating the rest of your day on getting a head start on custom orders for tomorrow.

Then tomorrow came around and all you did was start the dough for a few loaves of sourdough, your girls were going to take over after the first rise so you could focus on the payroll and product order placement that would be delivered on Friday. You got done all the boring stuff, responded to customer emails, printed out the invoices of all the orders through Friday, sorted through and organized the endless amounts of cookie cutters in the kitchen, then cleaned out the fridge to make sure all the ingredients were properly labeled and within date.

You worked one more day after that before having your first day off in 10 days. Yes, you made your own schedule. Yes, you worked far too much. No, that's not your fault.

You started by going on a short run, and taking a shower before going to the little diner 10 minutes down the road with Georgia for breakfast. The summer heat made your thighs stick to the leather booth beneath you, and the ceiling fans gently moved your hair around but you didn't seem to mind much. How could anything be a bother to your while you we're sneakily stealing a forkful of pancakes from your Neighbor's plate as her eyes were stuck on the news that was playing on an old TV in the upper corner of the diner.

You smiled as she peeled her eyes away just to glare at you while you stuck the syrupy goodness in your mouth. A bit of sticky maple caught on your lip, threatening to drip down your chin before you even got a chance to lick it off.

"Child, you are a mess." She shook her head at you and handed you a napkin. "How are they?"

"Heavenly." You giggled, wiping away the warm syrup on your face. "Hey, is it okay if I have a bite?" You questioned after stealing her food.

"You're like the child I never wanted." She insulted in good fun. Her being in her mid-fifties and you being late twenties- early thirty something, she loved to tease you because she knew you could take it in good fun. "See what you could've had if you didn't order... whatever that is?"

"An omelette?" You giggled. "I was in it for the side of hash-browns."

"Mmmm" Georgia tried to stay engaged, but her eyes kept wandering back to the news on the television.

You quickly looked up at the TV facing you in the opposite corner to the one she had her eyes on, but all you saw was pictures of Black Widow. She was beautiful, you always were jealous of her stunning fiery red hair and strength. You didn't pay much attention to why the bottom banner across the screen said 'Breaking News: Emergency Broadcast". Nothing Natasha Romanoff could've done was more important to the crispy shredded potatoes in front of you.

You didn't know much about the Civil War besides the basics. Most of what you knew came from Georgia and Michael. Politics was never your strong suit, you're pretty sure you almost failed government class back in high school. However, politics was something Michael was very... passionate about.

His political opinions were strong, and he wasn't shy to let you know about them. Whenever you were over at their house for dinner and the topic came up, you tended to just let him get it all out while you soaked it in and ate silently.

Though you didn't have an extensive knowledge on economics or how congressional issues worked, you did know how you felt about social issues. Most of the time; your opinions did not match up with Michael. And most of the time Georgia soaked in and inherited all of Michael's political stances.

Only a few times did you seek out information on the bombing of the United Nations meeting and the sokovia accords by your own means. Mostly because you felt like the information you were getting from Michael was probably influenced by his own stance on the matter. But from what you gathered, it was a complex issue you couldn't even begin to put your nose in. Especially since they were all superheroes arguing over what was the correct thing to do.

You grew up very much in the mindset of not judging people until you've walked a mile in their shoes, and walking in their shoes was impossible. Especially superhero shoes with jet blasters and and steel toes.

So as Georgia stated, "Miss Romanoff had so much potential, why she wasted it on protecting a brain washed assassin I will never understand." you stole another bite of her pancakes and shoved them into your mouth.

In turn, she stole some of your hash-browns and looked at you, waiting for feedback on her remark. "What did she do now?" You asked.

"She was found on American soil. The secretary tried detaining her considering she's a fugitive but she slipped passed his fingers." Georgia explained. "They're asking for tips trying to find her again."

You nodded your head in understanding of the urgency in the news broadcast, but you didn't exactly feel like having a passionate discussion about morals in the middle of a notoriously conservative small down.

"I guess I just don't understand why the government is treating Captain America's friends as criminals when they've all done so much to protect us... Aren't they just trying to do the right thing?" You questioned carefully as to not start an argument.

"Sweetheart it's not about what they used to do for us, it's about what they've done recently. They broke the law, destroyed public and private property, and broke out of the highest security prison in the world all because they didn't want to be controlled by the United Nations." Georgia explained.

"...but the issue was that they didn't want to be controlled, it was that they wanted to come up with a different solution because lives would be lost while waiting for the whole United Nations to decide what business they could stick their noses in, right?" You framed your opinion as a question once more as to appease any potential anger.

"Captain America and his whole team of friends became war criminals the moment they turned their backs on the government. It's really that simple." She insisted.

You looked back up to the TV to see the pictures of Captain America, Black Widow, Scarlet Witch, the Falcon, the Winter Soldier, Ant-Man, and Hawkeye all looking back at you. The atmosphere between you and Georgia had gone quiet allowing you to hear the broadcasters voice.

'... if you see any of these individuals, do not approach. They are dangerous. Call 911. Remember, failure to report these individuals will be considered a misdemeanor punishable by jail time and a hefty fine. Do not approach.'

You observed the picture of the winter soldier in much more detail than the others, then your eyes grazed over Captain America.

One more big mouthful of your breakfast before an invasive thought overtook your brain and caused you to laugh out loud.

"What's got you laughing over there?" Georgia smiled at your antics.

"The winter soldier is so handsome, I think I'd become a war criminal trying to defend him too." You spat out between invasive laughter causing Georgia to laugh along with you no matter how hard she tried to contain it.

"I outta wash your mouth out with soap!" She laughed.

"Hey! No potty mouth here, just speaking the truth"

"This is why you need a boyfriend!" She smiled, pointing her pancake filled fork at you. "And a good one at that! I don't need to be seeing my baby girl all up in the news one day with the word 'wanted' written in bold red letters across her face."

"Hey, I've actually been meaning to ask you!" You started between bites. "A handsome fella came into the shop a few days ago. Said he was moving to greenwood in a few days, d'ya know anything about that?"

"What'd he look like, darlin'?" She questioned further. "I saw a stunner meet up with the owner of the house next door to yours while I was watering my peonies earlier this week. Watched him leave with a key in hand."

"He was tall, but I didn't get to see much to his face. It was blocked by a cap. I think his hair was dirty blonde from what I could see. He had really nice jeans on-"

"Full beard?" She asked.

"The most luscious and well groomed beard I've ever seen in this part of town." You confirmed with a giggle.

"I damn near blushed when I saw him from across the way! I bet he's moving in to that house then!" She enthused with a big smile. "Maybe this will be your escape from the Greenwood boys!"

"Are you kidding me? A man like that always comes a long with a wife and way too many children." You giggled.

"I bet that boy would make some beautiful babies" She kicked your leg underneath the table. "As would you."

"Not anytime soon" You shook your head with a blush in your cheeks.

"You know pregnancies over the age of 35 are considered geriatric?" She said backhandedly.

"Then consider me the oldest grandma in the nursing home." You denied once more

"I didn't see no ring on that man's finger, so he's single until proven married." Georgia smiled. "What did he get at the bakery?"

"One chocolate chip cookie" You hid your grin behind your hand holding your fork.

She raised her eyebrows mid pancake bite, chewing before speaking again as to not be impolite, but you already knew what she was thinking. "A married man would never get a cookie for just himself and not his wife. He's definitely single."

"Well he did say he drove into town for the key, so maybe he ate it before she even knew he had a cookie in the first place. Plus, I gave him two. You know how I feel about people who get one cookie..."

"So he's either single or the worst husband a girl could have. If Michael ever skipped out on getting me a cookie I'd divorce his ass on the spot." She shook her head.

"Why would you ever need Michael to bring you cookies when you have me, anyways?" You questioned, faking jealousy.

"Baby doll you're all I need" She smiled and reached over to squeeze your hand.

"That's more like it." You laughed.

Georgia smoothed over the pain of not being the only cookie provider in her life by paying the breakfast bill, even after you fought her over it for ten whole minutes because you invited her out to breakfast so you could treat her.

And when you two got home, you both immediately noticed all the construction on the house next to yours had been completely cleared out and it looked brand spankin' new.

What once was an older home with lots of rustic character looked more like all the surrounding houses with updated paint, new landscaping, fresh new features. It looked great without all of the dust and equipment blocking the view.

It was officially a home ready to be moved into, and any moment now you would have confirmation if your new neighbor was the same man you desperately owed $20.

Next Part: Inhale, Exhale

Tag list: @patzammit @bemysugarbean

If you’d like to be added to the tag list for this series, don’t be shy to ask 🤍🧁

[prying-pandora666]

So I suddenly had this idea about Azula in the Spirit Temple…

This is only a first pass, but if it works out, maybe I’ll record it as Azula.

Azula’s “The Spirit Came to the Temple”

Based on “The Devil Went Down to Georgia”

Well, a Spirit conjured a Temple, it was looking for a soul to eat It was in a bind, 'cause it was time to dine, and Dragons were its favorite treat When it came across this princess soaking wet but her flames blue-hot So the Spirit jumped up, disguised as a monk, said, "Girl, let me tell you what

You probably didn't even know it, but I rescue lost souls too And if you care to take a dare, I'll make a deal with you Now you’ve got impressive willpower, but give the Spirit World its due I'll bet a night outta the cold against your soul, redemption’s too good for you" The girl said, "My name's Azula and it might be a sin But I'll take your bet, you're gonna regret, ‘Cause I'm the best there's ever been!”

Princess don’t let your will waver, if you’re to beat this trial 'Cause hell's challenged you to Pai Sho and the Spirit deals the tiles And if you win and last the night, your legend will be told But if you lose the Spirit eats your soul!

The Spirit conjured up its spell, “I’ll start” it smugly said Sent visions from its finger tips as it got into her head And it pulled harshly on her heartstrings, and it made an evil hiss Then Azula’s inner demons joined in, and it sounded something like this

But when the Spirit finished, Azula said, "You know, you're pretty good old monk, But you best get in your life raft there, cuz I’m so sharp your ship is sunk!"

Fire on the mountain, run, boys, run The Spirit’s in the house of the rising sun Brother’s by the duck pond, feeding them dough Mother, do you fear me? No, child, no

Well, that old Spirit bowed its head because it knew that it’d been beat And it vanished with the temple, left only ground at Azula’s feet Azula said, "Spirit, come on back if you ever want to try again I’ve told you once, you son of a nun, I'm the best there's ever been!"

She spat fire on that mountain, run, boys, run Azula from the house of the rising sun Brother’s in the throne room, calling for you Mother, do you love me? Yes, I do!

[csny]

Alaska: Igloo, Kodiak bear, Iditarod sled dog race, Denali

Hawaii: pearl harbor, pineapple

washington: Space Needle, apple, mt st helens, rainier national park

oregon: roses, lighthouse, crater lake, oregon trail, hiking

california: redwood tree, white water rafting, gold, golden gate bridge, silicon valley, yosemite national park, wine country, sierra nevada mountains, hollywood, joshua tree

nevada: silver, las vegas strip, hoover dam

idaho: gemstones, potatoes

montana: rocky mountains, glacier national park, grizzly bear, bison

wyoming: yellowstone national park, old faithful geyser, bucking bronco

utah: great salt lake, zion national park, skiing

arizona: lake mead, grand canyon national park, montezuma castle, turquoise, saguaro cactus

new mexico: pueblo, yucca plant, carlsbad caverns

colorado: rocky mountain national park, columbine flower, elk

north dakota: oil, wind energy

south dakota: crazy horse memorial, the badlands, mount rushmore

nebraska: chimney rock, bald eagle, train

kansas: tornadoes, dodge city, sunflower

oklahoma: tomato, wheat, osage shield

texas: cattle, prickly pear cactus, oil refinery, the alamo, NASA Johnson space Center

Minnesota: lake of the woods, wolf, deer

iowa: prairie grass, corn

missouri; Hog, gateway arch

arkansas: razorback hog, banjo

louisiana: crayfish, mardi gras, jazz music

wisconsin: dairy

illinois: Willis tower, tractor, lincoln

michigan: copper, iron ore, automobile manufacturing, motown

indiana: Car

ohio: Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, tires

pennsylvania: street mill, liberty bell

new jersey: constitution

maryland: blue crab

virginia: mount vernon

north carolina: wright brothers national memorial, tobacco farm, great smoky mountains national park, appalachian mountains

south carolina: fort sumter

georgia: peanuts, peach

florida: oranges, kennedy space center, alligator, everglades national park

alabama: cotton, civil rights movement

mississippi: magnolia

tennessee: country music

kentucky: horse racing

west virginia: coal

new york: apple tree, financial market, statue of liberty

massachusetts: american revolution

vermont: maple syrup

new hampshire: fall colors

maine: acadia national park, moose, lobster

And don’t make me repeat it!!!!!!!

[wearevillaneve]

Sandra Oh’s Sense of Purpose

The actor discusses Hollywood survival skills, winning the lottery, and her interest in telling “messy” Asian American stories.

Sandra Oh wanted to talk to me, first, about the Monterey Park shooting. The attack had taken place a week earlier, not far from her home in Los Angeles. She was still working through her feelings about it. Seeing her face fill my laptop screen over Zoom, I thought about her ability as an actor to externalize emotion with the camera up close. For our interview, Oh had set up her computer in her back yard. A fire pit, with cushions and an L-shaped seating area, was behind her. As she discussed the shooting, Oh stared at a point off to her right; her eyebrows sloped upward, and her brow furrowed. She radiated dismay.

After we discussed the tragedy for a few minutes, she asked if she could start recording the conversation. She wanted to keep a copy of it for herself. Perhaps it was her age, she told me––fifty-one years old. She had been feeling the urge to gather her thoughts and “put them all together one day.” (She told me that she’s kept journals going back to the fifth grade.) She’d been dwelling on the shooting, turning over its meaning in her head––particularly the fact that the perpetrator turned out to be an Asian immigrant himself. The reflection is, in some ways, part of her work. Last October, during a panel I moderated at The New Yorker Festival, on “identity and craft,” Oh said that in the past the characters she played hadn’t “necessarily had their history, their family, their race, their culture explored.” Now, she added, her overriding interest was in “telling Asian American stories.”

Oh is still revered by fans for her decade-long stint as Cristina Yang, the unapologetically ambitious cardiothoracic surgeon and devoted best friend on “Grey’s Anatomy.” More recently, her portrayal of the world-weary British intelligence agent Eve Polastri, in BBC America’s breakout hit “Killing Eve,” earned her a raft of awards and critical plaudits. It was during the pandemic, however, as violence against Asians surged, that Oh’s artistic choices seemed to coalesce into a sense of purpose. She was at her farcical best as Ji-Yoon Kim, the pathbreaking English-department chair at Pembroke University, in the Netflix series “The Chair,” released in 2021. Last summer, she began production of an original Hulu comedy movie with the comedian and actress Nora Lum, otherwise known as Awkwafina. Oh is now filming a miniseries adaptation of “The Sympathizer,” Viet Thanh Nguyen’s tragicomic novel on the Vietnamese refugee experience, which won the Pulitzer Prize in 2016. The project is slated for HBO, and one of its creative visionaries is the South Korean filmmaker Park Chan-wook.

In March, 2021, Oh was in the middle of production of “The Chair,” in Pennsylvania, when a white man went on a shooting rampage in Georgia, killing eight people, six of whom were women of Asian descent. Afterward, Oh made an unexpected appearance at a “Stop Asian Hate” rally in Pittsburgh. She took the megaphone and delivered a rousing speech that culminated with her asking the crowd to join her in repeating a mantra, which could have been a credo for her Hollywood career. “I am proud to be Asian,” she said, thrusting her hand high, and then pointing it at the ground in front of her. “I belong here.”

In the span of more than two hours on a Friday last month, she spoke about identity, opportunity, winning the lottery, and why she’s no longer waiting for the “white dudes” of the industry to call.

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

Special Counsel Jack Smith isn’t messing around.

The prosecutor tasked with investigating former president Donald Trump is showing so much hustle, he’s prompted former prosecutors to say Smith may be gearing up to indict Trump within the first few months of 2023.

That’s partly due to the flurry of investigative activity following Smith’s appointment in mid-November, a time when many observers worried openly that naming a special counsel would dramatically slow the Trump investigations. Smith quickly proved those doubters wrong, filing a legal brief on Thanksgiving Day and a raft of new subpoenas, while securing testimony from top Trump associates including former White House lawyers and former Trump speechwriter Stephen Miller.

Smith is leading investigations into the removal of highly-sensitive government documents taken to Trump’s Mar-a-Lago club in Palm Beach, as well as Trump’s attempts to reverse his defeat in the 2020 election and his role in the Capitol riot of Jan. 6, 2021. Smith has an incentive to make a charging decision quickly, experienced criminal lawyers say: To keep any criminal trial and appeals process from stretching past the end of President Joe Biden’s term, when a new president and attorney general could stymie the process.

“If they do decide to bring charges, they’d need to do it in the first quarter of 2023, because otherwise Trump might be able to run out the clock,” said Barbara McQuade, the former top federal prosecutor in Detroit.

Others point out Smith is assembling a top-shelf team of hard-charging lawyers—one that appears to mean business.

“I don’t think they would’ve left their former positions, both in government and private practice, unless there was a serious possibility that the Justice Department was on a path to charge,” Preet Bharara, the former U.S. Attorney for the Southern District of New York, told Meet The Press on Sunday.

“And I think it’ll happen in a month,” Bharara said.

FASTER THAN MUELLER

Smith has been moving faster than even his famous predecessor, former Special Counsel Robert Mueller. Mueller initially began his two-year probe of the Trump campaign’s ties to Russia without an office or a team.

By contrast, Smith inherited two ongoing investigations that have only appeared to ramp up since his appointment.

That means Smith is taking over a staff that’s already almost twice as big as the team of lawyers that worked for Mueller, according to CNN.

Immediately after his appointment, Smith promised: “The pace of the investigations will not pause or flag under my watch.” And so far, from all outward appearances, it hasn’t.

In particular, he’s dropped a flurry of grand jury subpoenas on officials from six states — places where Trump’s allies attempted to secure the electoral college votes from the 2020 election that Trump would have needed to hold power.

Smith’s team has sought both testimony and also any communications with Trump, the Trump campaign, and a list of 19 Trump associates.

This week Smith’s team subpoenaed Brad Raffensperger, the Georgia Secretary of State who took the infamous phone call in which Trump urged Raffensperger to “find” enough votes to make him President.

“All I want to do is this,” Trump told Raffensperger. “I just want to find 11,780 votes, which is one more than we have, because we won the state.”

Raffensperger refused to do so. Instead, he tape-recorded the call, which was then leaked to the media.

Smith has also subpoenaed officials in Arizona, Michigan, Pennsylvania, Wisconsin, and Nevada.

On December 2nd, Smith secured grand jury testimony from Trump White House Counsel Pat Cippollone and his chief deputy, Patrick Philbin-just one day after a federal judge ordered them to appear.

And on top of all that, Smith’s team secured a key victory when an appeals court effectively annulled the appointment of a special master to review documents in the Mar-a-Lago case on December 1st.

The Judges ruled that the notoriously pro-Trump Florida Judge, Aileen Cannon, was wrong to accept Trump’s lawsuit in the first place.

The ruling effectively frees up Smith to use evidence collected in the FBI’s Mar-a-Lago search in a future prosecution, during which prosecutors may want to show how highly-sensitive government documents were intermingled with random clutter by way of proving that state secrets weren’t being carefully handled.

Trump has repeatedly insisted he did nothing wrong, and that the investigations are part of a groundless “witch hunt” against him, led by his Democratic enemies.

But legal experts watching the probes say the Mar-a-Lago documents case is theoretically likely to be ready to move to prosecution much sooner than the sprawling investigation into the complicated events of Jan. 6th.

That’s because the documents case is relatively simple, and many people have been successfully prosecuted for mishandling secret government documents in the past. By contrast, no past president has ever attempted to hold on to power despite losing an election in the way Trump did—which makes any attempted prosecution totally novel, and makes the legal questions involved highly complex.

“The Mar-a-Lago case is the one that is probably pretty close to being ready to go,” McQuade said.

[nickburchell]

Had a fun time chatting with the folks at @canvasrebel about photography and creativity last month. We spoke about always taking time out to create photographs, as seen here while on a self supported whitewater raft trip down the Grand Canyon. Check out the article above, link on my profile. Thanks to @shiverpaula for the awesome photo with my beaten up river hat! #photography #creativity #creativityeveryday #articles #grandcanyon #portraitphotography #explore #photographerportraits #riverhats (at Atlanta, Georgia) https://www.instagram.com/p/CoxUnjVuEhw/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[spellucci]

New River and Gauley River National Recreation Areas

Thursday, April 11, 2024

NOTE: this didn’t publish in April.

Of course it was raining when we woke up. Jeanne checked the weather report and decided to reserve the last campsite at Bayside at Assateague for Saturday and Sunday since there is no rain in the forecast.

Tim and Dora discovered that the ballfield parking lot was also a trailhead for connecting to the New River National Recreation Area trail system. They come back to the RV and drag Jeanne out once the rain stops. We hike along a gentle trail along the rim. We see glimpses of the gorge filled with fog. It smells like spring in the southern Appalachians. We see bluets in bloom along the trail. Jeanne remembers them as the first flowers she saw while hiking the Appalachian Trail in Georgia.

We drive back to the US 19, cross the bridge over the New River Gorge, and stop at the visitor center to take better photos. We pick up another magnet for the RV. We have been to many more parks, but only recently started collecting magnets.

We drive 40 minutes to the Gauley River.

The New River National Recreation Area and the Gauley River National Recreation Area are renowned for their whitewater including V+ rapids. The whitewater in these two rivers is legendary and is generally considered the best in the East south of Maine.

Jeanne first heard of the Gauley almost 40 years ago. It is spoken of with reverence by whitewater rafting guides further south. The senior guides are described as “S/he kayaked the Gauley” in tones of awe.

The Gauley whitewater starts here at the dam. In the fall, the lake waters behind the dam are drawn down to prepare for winter and spring melts. That is Gauley season for eastern whitewater enthusiasts.

We drive back up to the rim of the gorge and around to a Civil War Battlefield park with a nice hiking trail that isn’t too hard on aging knees.

We have several overlooks of the gorge.

Dora begins to bark and growl up ahead. Jeanne rushes forward to where Dora is confronting a snake, fortunately from a cautious distance. We put her back on leash and keep a closer eye on her. The next overlook is down an unknown length of stairs. Tim goes down to the switchback to reconnoiter, but doesn’t see an end. We decide to turn back. The snake is gone.

Back on the road, it starts raining again. At least we got two hikes in two national parks in between the rain. The weather looks good on the coast for the weekend, so we head for Maryland.

We stop at the Maryland rest area on I-68 near the WV border. The Youghiogheny Overlook rest area eastbound provides a sweeping view of the Youghiogheny River Valley. Don’t ask us how it is pronounced — we haven’t a clue.

An hour later, we pass Sideling Hill again. It’s raining. It’s our 3rd stop at Sideling Hill this trip and it’s been pouring every time. In fact, it’s been 13 days where it has rained at least once every day despite all our efforts to find clear weather. The eastbound side parking lot is far too slanted for comfortable sleeping. We decide to continue on to the Cracker Barrel in Cumberland.

[toursandfoods]

Georgia Travel Guide | Georgia Tour Guide | Best Places to Visit In Georgia

In this Georgia travel guide video, we will go for a magical tour to Georgia, a country nestled at the crossroads of Europe and Asia. From the ancient streets of Tbilisi to the surreal wine region of kakheti Georgia offers a blend of history, culture, and natural beauty. During this Georgia trip, you can enjoy paragliding along Mt.Kazbegi, river rafting down the Martvili Canyon, or can enjoy sunbathing on the shores of the Black Sea.

#georgia #georgiatravel #georgiatour

[cksmart-world]

SMART BOMB

The Completely Unnecessary News Analysis

By Christopher Smart

April 9, 2024

LOOKOUT — EARTHQUAKES, ECLIPSES, SIGNS FROM GOD

Marjorie Taylor Green has a message for all of America: God is watching. Y'all better repent, the Georgia MAGA star warned. We got earthquakes and eclipses and all kinds of stuff and there's gonna be an Apocalypse if Donald Trump is not elected. Yikes, this is serious. As you may recall, MTG compared Trump to Jesus because like Christ he is being persecuted by a dastardly government. That's bad. It's lucky we've got MTG around. She also pulled the covers back on “Nancy Pelosi’s gazpacho police,” that use cold soup against her enemies. They're practically as bad as Hitler's Gestapo. “She’s a traitor to our country, she’s guilty of treason,” MTG said of the former speaker of the house. “And it’s a crime punishable by death is what treason is.” The Georgia firebrand has knowledge of myriad concerns of the day. She came out strongly against “fake meat” that is grown in “peach tree dishes.” It's all some kind of dietary conspiracy to change the DNA of children and turn them into Democrats. When Marjorie Taylor Greene speaks, people listen. Now she's got Speaker Mike Johnson in her crosshairs because he staved off a government shutdown by cooperating with Democrats and there is no sin worse than that. Those eclipses and earthquakes aren't foolin' around.

DAYLIGHT-SAVING-TIME ON THE MOON?

If you think switching to Daylight Saving Time is hard here on Earth, think what it will be like on the moon. That's right, U.S. scientists will soon assign the moon it's very own time. In the future when we colonize it, people up there won't want to go on Earth time because it could screw everything up. A day on Earth is 24 hours. A day on the moon is 29.5 Earth days. No Wilson, we are not making this up. Golfers on the moon might like it, but if you suffer from season affective disorder (SAD) you could get messed up. Talk about depressing. Put another way; during any given day on the moon, it will be daylight for about two Earth weeks and then dark for about two Earth weeks. Greenwich Mean Time — which is our standard based on the Greenwich Meridian in London — could get confusing on the moon. On the other hand, English astronauts might throw a wobbly if they could only take tea once every fortnight. New terms would have to be invented for life on the moon. For example what would, “pack a lunch” mean. Pack 14 lunches? Would, “see you tomorrow,” mean see you in two weeks? What about, “take the rest of the day off.” The four-day work week? It gives the Theory of Relativity a very weird feel. Where is Einstein when you need him.

NASTY EMAILS: BASEBALL STRIKES OUT IN CITY OF SALT

The staff here at Smart Bomb put together an investigative unit to get to the bottom of the plan to bring the Bigs to the City of Salt. Along the way a raft of emails came into their possession. Here is a sample:

Councilman #1: We're getting hosed. The mayor is getting sucked in. She should play hardball — no pun intended.

Councilman # 2: She's playing patty-cake with those vipers. They could turn around and bite us right in the situation.

Councilman #1: This is starting to feel like some kind of shell game. One team goes here; one team goes there; nothing up their sleeve; and then the pea disappears.

Councilman #2: And we're left holding an empty bag and the tax increment turns into tiger butter.

Councilman #1: Don't look at the man behind the curtain.

Councilman #2: I'm starting to feel like the Palestinians. What about the Geneva Conventions and everything.

Councilman #1: We're outgunned. They've got the Republicans and the developers.

Councilman #2: A distinction without a difference.

Councilman #1: I saw Willy Mayes hit a home run at Dirk's Field when was 9.

Councilman #2: How did this happen. We just got thrown out of the game.

Post script — That'll do it for another week of springtime in the Rockies where we keep track of freedom of the press so you don't have to. Old saw: Freedom of the press belongs to those who own one. Matthew Prince is a billionaire who moved to Park City recently and bought the town's historic newspaper, The Park Record. He also bought land on a hill overlooking Old Town Park City and proposed building a very big house there. When neighbors objected to the McMansion, Price sued them and then wrote a screed in his very own newspaper explaining how dumb Park City government is. Call it freedom of the press. From our “truth-telling” file, this: Rep. Mike Turner, R- Ohio, is complaining that his GOP colleagues are parroting Russian propaganda regarding Putin's war in Ukraine, saying it's all about NATO — which is... well, propaganda. Mike McCaul, R-Texas, added that Russian propaganda had “infected” the Republican Party’s base. What a surprise. No secret, Donald Trump doesn't want to fund Ukraine and is buddies with Russian dictator Vladimir Putin. Meanwhile, Trump said he knows how to end the War — just give Crimea and Donbas to Putin and call it good. See, that wasn't so difficult, was it?

Well Wilson, bad omens abound. We got eclipses, earthquakes, blizzard and floods. It's not that we want to focus only on the negative but when the sun goes out, what can you do. The eclipse won't last long but what it foretells might. So get the guys in the band to put down their moon rocks and take us out with an anthem for the times:

I see the bad moon a-rising I see trouble on the way I see earthquakes and lightning I see bad times today Don't go around tonight Well, it's bound to take your life There's a bad moon on the rise I hear hurricanes a-blowing I know the end is coming soon I fear rivers overflowing I hear the voice of rage and ruin Don't go around tonight Well, it's bound to take your life There's a bad moon on the rise Hope you got your things together Hope you are quite prepared to die Looks like we're in for nasty weather One eye is taken for an eye Well, don't go around tonight Well, it's bound to take your life There's a bad moon on the rise

(Bad Moon On The Rise — Credence Clearwater Revival)

[nickdewolfarchive]

Atlanta, Georgia May 1977

Ramblin' Raft Race Chattahoochee River

Photograph by Nick DeWolf https://www.flickr.com/photos/dboo/4379373611

#photography #film #35mm #color #atlanta #georgia #chatahoochee #river #thehooch #raft #raftrace #ramblinraftrace #rafting #people #youngpeople #youngman #beercan #drunk #passedout #barefoot #monitor #boat #trailer #1970s

[rogersideup]

*bang bang bang* FBI OPEN UP!

Ma'am it's illegal to write this good! We have to arrest you... unless you give us a preview of an upcoming fic.

‼️🚨🚔My hands are up where you can see them, I’m not looking for any trouble!🚔🚨‼️

Here’s a preview of an upcoming series that still doesn’t have a name, hope you all enjoy.

Untitled series chapter 1:

Welcome to Greenwood

The sound of the bell rattling on the front door pulled your mind away from the cake on the rotating stand in front of you and the piping bag in your hand. Coincidentally, you had just sent your cashier to break so you moved your work station to the decorating desk visible to the doorframe into the kitchen of your bakery, allowing you to see the customers as they walked in.

"Hey there, honey! I'll be right with ya'." You greeted the customer as you piped out the final details on the custom ordered cake you had spent the last half an hour perfecting.

"No worries, take your time." A polite voice responded.

Your head immediately turned at the sound of the deep and slightly raspy voice you had never heard before. In a scanty little town like Greenwood, you swore just about every friendly face within thirty miles of your bakery had stopped by for a treat at least once. You could recognize just about anyone with a blindfold on and nothing but the sound of a friendly greeting, but that charming bass was one you'd be sure to recognize if you've heard it before.

It belonged to a face you'd also be sure to recognize. An over six-foot stunner with blue eyes, a nicely groomed beard, and what looked like dirty blonde hair hidden behind a baseball cap.

You grinned before looking back at your cake, trying to process the new specimen in the lobby. It only took a few seconds before placing the piping bag down and ripping off your gloves, curiously walking out to behind the counter to help him out.

"Sorry about that, what can I get'cha?" Since you closed most of the distance, nothing but the bake case between you two, you got to notice more detail.

There was some serious muscle happening underneath the black long sleeved shirt he was wearing. Also, he was really good at picking out jeans that fit him perfectly in all the right places. Oh, and there was just a dash of green in the blue of his eyes.

"Just a chocolate chip cookie please." He asked timidly. You could tell he felt a little out of place, rocking back and forth on his heels in attempts to sooth his unsettled energy.

"Anything else?" You grinned.

"No thank you." He gently shook his head and walked over to the register as you put his cookie in a pastry bag.

"Okay but I'm giving you two cookies, because I think anyone who only gets one cookie is lying to themselves." You called out with a friendly smile, earning a chuckle from the man.

It allowed you to get a good look at his smile. He had pretty pink lips and perfect pearly whites.

Now, it was time for the investigative process you perfected to the tee. It usually started with an extra cookie and a big sparkling smile, followed by some friendly questions, and ending with a 'hope to see you again sometime soon'. You didn't mean to be invasive, really, you just needed to have all the answers when your neighbor, Georgia, asks for more information once you inevitably ask her if she knows anything about the new stunner in town.

"Well thank you, I appreciate that." He grinned, pulling the wallet out of his jeans.

"I don't think I've seen you around before, are you driving through?" You asked.

Steve shifted once more as he thought about how to answer this question. Almost every news station in the country was covering the chase for the missing superheroes post-raft-escape following the Civil War. His face had been plastered on every the cover of every news paper, fliers stapled to street lamps, posted on bulletin boards in what felt like every coffee shop in the country. If he was still in the 40's he was sure his face would take the place of the missing persons on the sides of milk cartons.

It had been just a few long months, just long enough to grow out his hair and beard to make himself as unrecognizable as he could manage. Though he was still the poster boy of disorder within the states, it had calmed down enough for him to feel comfortable trying to settle down for as long as he safely could.

He finally found someone to rent him a house in a town quaint enough for his liking that was willing to accept under the table cash payments in rent, no proof of income, and didn't ask too many questions.

"I'm actually moving to Greenwood in the next couple days, I just picked up the keys to my new place. Saw the bakery sign and decided to stop by, figured a new start is grounds for a little celebrating." Steve explained, convincing enough.

All he could do was cross his fingers in hopes you didn't care about politics or the news enough to recognize his face.

"Really? What made you want to move here?"

He shrugged, and his lips stretched into a straight line. "Just wanted to go somewhere quiet and relaxing I guess. You know, the simple life."

"Well, most people here spend their days chasing something a bit more exciting and busy. I think you're in for exactly what you hoped for" You reassured him. "I'm sorry, honey, I didn't catch your name?"

The pet name that seemed to run off your tongue without a second thought felt warm and welcoming to him. In the big city, a sentiment like that was a title that was typically earned, but here it was given with almost an immediate understanding that everyone around was inherently good and trustworthy. He almost didn't want to tell you his name so he could keep hearing the word slip passed your lips.

"Oh, sorry!" He apologized. "I'm Steven."

Steven? Really? Already off to a bad start. He told himself when he settled down for a bit he'd be distant to the people around him. Never get too close, never tell the truth, go by an alias. But for some reason, he just couldn't get himself to lie to you. You just seemed too sweet for that.

"Well, Steven," You handed him the bag of cookies, he hesitated to take them from you. "Everyone who decides to make a home out of Greenwood deserves a warm welcome. Here's to a quiet and relaxing new start."

🫣🥹🫡