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peachesofteal · 3 months

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Dad!John Price/female reader This has been living in my head

“Beautiful out, isn’t it?”

The old woman on the docks hitches her shoulder bag higher, eyes fixed on nothing in the distance. John hums an agreement, low pitch slow to rise from his chest. It’s not a dismissal, but not conversation. Non-committal. About as much as you’ll get from him, on a day like today.

He keeps his focus on the expanse of the bay. A metamorphic magma layered coastal cradle holding entire populations of people, and animals, those that live on land… and at sea.

He’s waiting for a fleck of dust on the horizon, a small speck that will slowly turn into ferry, one that carries some passengers, a few packages, bundles of mail by the heap. It is beautiful today; he doesn’t disagree. But it’s not because of the weather. It’s because the ferry is carrying more than just a few passengers home. It’s carrying his worst nightmare. The final nail in a coffin. His own personal hell.

And…

His brightest light. His favorite part of everyday. His everything. The reason his heart still beats.

Both on the same boat.

The sun shines through the tips of the trees, bright on his face, casting an amber yellow glow over the harbor, and he basks in it, even with the brittle cold.

The warmth of the light is foreign this time year, a time year when creeks all run underneath a quickly thickening layer of ice, morning frost lingers beneath cloud cover, and bears sleep.

The town will be full of life today. The bar at the top of the hill, the only one in town, will be burning the midnight oil, everyone appearing at some point throughout the night, eager to have one last rousing round with neighbors and friends before the true cold of winter sets in.

Of course, they don’t hate the cold. They wouldn’t live here if they did.

Life is different in the winter. Year round. Life here revolves more around the weather and the seasons than anywhere else he’s ever been, or lived, and everything from the kelp to the whales, the deer and sea lions, the people, and the wolves, depend on the promise of perpetual change.

The tide washes through little pebbles of ancient volcanic rock like a lullaby, one so familiar he swears he can hear it when he’s working, when he’s worlds away in his mind. It’s peaceful, full of memories, nostalgia beating in his blood for something long gone, long past.

His heart aches, for a moment. Long enough that his brow furrows, and his hands find his pocket, anxiously feeling for the chain.

The ferry shatters his memories, blaring across the beach, and the old woman gives him a smile.

“Early today.” This time, John does respond.

“Good.”

“You must be John.” She offers her hand, face half hidden beneath a large hood and knit muff, black pants and coat nearly matching his.

He hesitates, fingers flexing, and she doesn’t miss a beat, moving on to step around him, speaking briefly to the ferry captain, an old grizzled man who stared at John the entire trip, blatant curiosity wrinkling his frown lines.

The wind cuts through his jacket, snaking beneath his layers, forcing his muscles tense.

Bloody freezing. He's been cold, plenty, but this bitterness has bite.

She squints and jerks her head towards the end of the dock, sunlight glittering in her eyes. They’re beautiful, a rich shade of coffee and hazel, golden spotted and drusy, a cluster of crystals inside dark pupils. They’re a color he could drown in. The kind of eyes he could see in his dreams for the rest of his life.

The kind of eyes capable of disarming him, before he's even drawn a weapon.

“C’mon. Truck’s got heat.”

“Mari says you’ve never been a Ranger before.” She tries to make casual conversation with him, patting the steering wheel as the truck sputters to life. Gears grind, they churn, and she smiles, glancing at the road before putting it in gear. It’s old, rusted in a quaint way, the kind that makes him think of old industrial parks and aging tanks, a rugged red chipped away above the passenger wheel well, rubbed raw by salt air.

“I have… relative experience.” He’s careful with his words, hesitant about over divulging, and she shrugs.

“With people? Or wildlife?” He points his face out the window. With people, sure. With bears and wolves and whatever else lurks in these woods, less so.

The truck climbs a windy road, pushing up above the cove, narrow pitted pavement flanked by forest so black he can hardly see a meter inside the tree line. The shadow that lingers inside the tree line is primordial, alive, and he blinks when he thinks he sees something moving, deep in the dark. Douglas fir, silver fir, white pine flash by, occasional road signs with pictures of animals and speed limits dotting the way. “Logging is big industry out here. Forestry feeds a lot of families in this area, but it can be a point of contention.” She motions past him to another cove, one tucked just around the bend from where the ferry came in, its surface covered in shaved logs, all nearly uniform in size, floating together in rows upon rows, waiting for their next voyage.

“That what you do? Er… logging?” Her hands are rough, skin cracked, nails trimmed short, and the coat is utility. Built for labor. For weather. It’s a natural conclusion.

“No. I run the nature center in the late spring and summer. No tourism in fall or winter though, so I find other things to do. Work for the park. Tag trees. Winter trail maintenance. Wildlife management.” The truck rattles into a left turn, and she waves at someone in an oncoming car. “Guess I kinda work for you now.” Her chuckle is light, sweet, and his cheeks feel warm. “What brought you all the way up here?”

Bloody hell.

“Needed a change of pace.”

“Long way to come for a change.” She muses, and he agrees. It is very, very far. Three planes, two ferries, this truck. Hours of travel, temperature dropping in ten degree increments every time he stepped outside. He doesn’t know how to answer that, how to tell her, what he’s doing here, how to say he had to leave things behind.

The island changes, geology shifting, granite turning to mud and grass, darkness fading as the truck putters into its final descent.

He instinctively taps the tags in his pocket, a nervous tic that’s develops over the last few months since he took them off for the last time and clears his throat.

“Yes. It is.”

The ferry sidles up the wooden dock, rocking in the waves, captain giving the small, older woman next to him a friendly wave. At his side, a woman stands, straight backed and proud, eyes sharp against the setting sun.

Is that…

You catch his gaze, glancing at the Ranger badge on his coat, and then nodding, hand lifting in acknowledgement.

His breath freezes in his chest. You’re stunning. Beautiful, like the land, like the strait, and for a second, he forgets himself.

Igneous rock hardens in his stomach, in his heart.

He's lost at sea. Lost in the swell. An eddy line of devastation sweeps him out, past the lighthouse on the rocks, past the pod of resident orcas, past the point of no return.

He's drowning.

Only to be brought back by one of his favorite sounds in the entire world.

“Dad!”

#John price x reader #peaches writes #John price #captain john price #captain john price x reader #price x reader

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fizzycherrycola · 2 years

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Any headcanons about how many homes America and Canada have?

Yes! They have many homes.

⭐ America ⭐

In New York City, America spent decades jumping from place to place. As the city grew, he moved from a house in Manhattan, to a Brooklyn apartment, to a flat in Queens, etc. Now, despite his best efforts, his current apartment is just a box with an AC unit sticking out the window. He wishes he could have a nicer place in NYC, but the market is too hot even for him.

In Los Angeles, he managed to snag a gorgeous Santa Monica house in the early Hollywood days before prices exploded into the stratosphere. Just a short walk to the Pacific ocean, he never sold it and it’s worth its weight in gold by now.

His spot in Washington D.C. is the one he most uses; a stately, historical home that would probably be turned into a small museum if he ever decides to sell it (but he never will). Sometimes, the place can get a bit messy, with papers, file folders, and take-out containers scattered about, but he’ll tidy up when company is coming.

A farm in Ohio that has seen better days. In the early 20th century, he used the barn as a workshop to tinker with automobiles and flying machines. As a result, the barn is quite damaged, but America won’t repair it. He thinks the oil stains “add character”.

A lively hotel in Louisiana with a restaurant on the first floor. Yes, he owns the whole thing. It’s been managed by humans for generations within the same family. They cook massive Creole feasts whenever America drops by.

America doesn’t seek solitude often, but when he does, he goes to his mountain home in Colorado.

He stubbornly hangs onto his Texas ranch even though he doesn't raise cattle anymore.

Once he owned a beachfront property in Florida, but sold it after the Cuban Missile Crisis.

Unfortunately, through no fault of his own, his childhood home in Boston caught fire after the Revolution and burnt down. The land it was on is now a popular public park with swing sets, monkey bars, and a huge curly slide. Many local children say it’s their favourite park in the city.

There are many more, of course, but those are some of his standout homes.

🍁 Canada 🍁

Of all his homes, Canada stays at his Ottawa house most often. The backyard is filled with a rainbow of tulips and it’s within cycling distance to Parliament Hill. He keeps several pairs of ice skates for himself and whoever visits during the winter, so they can go skating over the frozen Rideau Canal.

Canada’s Toronto flat is the most modern-looking of his dwellings, but that isn’t saying much. It’s an industrial loft with mismatched furniture still stuck in the 1980s. It really isn’t his favourite place, but he likes the view of the skyline at sunset.

One of his childhood homes is still standing; a humble, stonework Montreal house. It’s been restored by historical societies; fresh paint on the door, a tidy lawn, and black soot swept away. He made an arrangement to lease it as a museum, but has the opportunity to return and stay there whenever he chooses.

There’s a ramshackle log cabin he built himself in Algonquin park, many years before it was designated as parkland. To quote my NedCan fic: “... a stone base decorated in moss. Turn-of-the-century windows and an amber-stained porch pleasantly frame the main door, while the modernized roof and chimney stack create a mishmash of different eras... like a favourite worn blanket; too beloved to be discarded, and so instead is repeatedly patched.”

On the east coast, he has a home in Halifax proper. Sadly, his original was destroyed in the Halifax Explosion and was rebuilt to the standards of the 1920s. He misses his older house, because it was where Scotland would visit during his childhood.

In St. John’s, he has a very colourful building, painted bright red with white window frames and small gardens in both the front and back.

A simple, suburban bungalow in Red Deer, Alberta. Perfect for business and relaxation, because it’s halfway between both Edmonton and Calgary and keeps the Rocky Mountains within reach. Piles of hiking gear are stored in the attic, basement, and the garage. When he can spare the time, he’ll drive out to the Rockies for weeks of camping, climbing, hiking, or skiing.

His British Columbia home is surrounded by old-growth trees.

Overall, Canada tries to have at least one home in each of his provinces and territories. If, at the time of travel, he doesn’t, he'll try to lodge in a wildlife research centre. The scientists, who usually work for the government, don’t mind his presence at all.

Thank you for the ask!! 💜

#aph america #aph canada #hws america #hws canada #hetalia headcanons #alfred f jones #matthew williams #my writing #my headcanons

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pennylanefics · 3 years

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Remember Her - Derek Hale

a/n: THIS MADE ME SO SOFT I SWEAR I WANNA CRY

•••

It’s been a long day for both you and Derek. You two were out with Scott the entire day trying to find out who the most recent threat to Beacon Hills is. Stiles had a lead, but he had to help his dad with something. So, you three went.

But while you were waiting in the car, Scott pointed something out. He somehow heard four heartbeats, including his own, worrying Derek that someone was in the backseat with you. They are quick to check everywhere, but Scott figures it out. It’s you.

That’s how you found out you were pregnant. Unfortunately, you and Derek didn’t get to celebrate that much since the person you were stalking came out of the building you were parked in front of, and the plan was put in front of everything.

“Who knew Scott would be the one to tell us that we’d be having a baby,” you murmur, running your hands over your stomach. Derek’s eyes follow your motion and his hand comes to rest on yours.

“I’m confused as to why I didn’t hear the heartbeat before he did, though.”

“I’m sure you did, in some way.” He shakes his head and continues rubbing your stomach, a small smile on his face.

“I can’t believe it, though. I’m really happy,” he tells you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You are?” You gaze up at him, finding a loving look in his eyes and a bigger smile on his face.

“Yeah. I mean, it is a surprise, but I’ve always known I wanted a family. Maybe not as soon as it’s happening, but that’s fine. Why? Are you not happy?” You hesitate for a moment and sit up, all of the negatives beginning to show up in your mind.

“Part of me is, because I love you so much and I’ve thought a lot about having a family with you.” Derek smiles sweetly and brushes your hair out of your face.

“But, this place isn’t a good place to raise a child,” you finish. “There’s no suitable place for a crib, it’s an industrial loft that you somehow moved into to protect yourself. This isn’t what I’d think of as a home. And I know you love it here, but I don’t think I’d be able to. Maybe we can find an apartment or a small farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, away from Beacon Hills.”

You could feel Derek beginning to grow annoyed. He hated this conversation. He loves his loft, he feels safe here, but he knows how you feel about it sometimes.

“I don’t think this conversation is gonna go well right now,” he says, scooting away from you a little. You sigh out of frustration and turn onto your side. What was supposed to be a happy moment together turned into a small fight.

“You always say that. I understand you have stuff with the pack here, but sometimes, I feel like they’re more important to you than I am.”

“Hey,” Derek suddenly sits up and pulls you with him, grabbing your face gently in his hands so you’re staring right at him. “Don’t ever think that. I may have a connection to them with the pack, but you will always be the most important person to me. You’ve been with me through so much, with Paige dying, and my family dying, to supporting me moving to New York, away from you while you went to college here. I love you so much, and I never want you to think the opposite of that.” Tears form in your eyes as he brings you in for a passionate kiss.

“I love you so much, (Y/N). Just know that you will always and forever be the number one person in my life. Right in front of our baby.” You can’t help but tear up even more and fall into his body, silently crying into his chest

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way,” he whispers. “I promise to give you both a comfortable and great life.”

“It’s-“

“If you say it’s okay, it’s not. I understand where you’re coming from, I just hate the idea of moving away from everyone.”

“I know you do. But, maybe think about it. I don’t want to force you to anything, but it may be a good change.” And for the first time surrounding this topic, you hear a positive response.

“I will, babe.”

—

“So it’s a she?” Derek asks the doctor excitedly, your hands engulfed by his.

“You’re having a baby girl,” she confirms with a smile. Derek kisses you sweetly as she begins to wipe the gel off your stomach. “Would you like copies of the sonogram?”

“Yes please,” you respond, sitting up and lowering your shirt. She leaves the room and Derek has yet to stop grinning.

“You got your wish for a daughter,” you chuckle, reaching for his hands once you sit up in the seat. He takes ahold of your hands again, swinging them side to side like a child.

“I know. So you agree on the name then?” You nod fondly and lean into his chest.

“I do. I think it’ll be a nice way to remember her.” He kisses your forehead softly just as the doctor comes back in the room. She hands you the photos in an envelope and sends you on your way.

Later that night, you and Derek are relaxing on the couch. You have your feet up on the small coffee table as Derek, somehow, is laying horizontal, with his head in your lap. His face is right next to your stomach, one of his favorite past times recently.

“I’m so ready to meet her,” he says, running his fingers over your growing bump. Your own hands run through his hair, scratching his scalp soothingly.

“You’re about five months ahead of that,” you chuckle. “We still have a lot to do to get ready for her.”

“Oh, that reminds me, I called the pack over today to tell them.”

Derek sits up and checks his phone for any updates on where everyone is at. Just then, the loft door slams open, Stiles running in with his baseball bat in hand. Sensing danger, Derek is up and in front of you within seconds, flashing his eyes red and showing his teeth to Stiles.

Scared by his appearance, Stiles stumbles back and hides behind Scott, who guides Allison in. Lydia and Isaac follow behind, shutting the door.

“Dude, what’s with the teeth and eyes? You never ward off us like this!” Stiles yells, setting his bat to the floor. Scott smiles, immediately knowing why. He’s the only one who knows.

“I just thought you were someone else.”

“Okay, so why’d you call us here?” Derek brings you to stand and tells them all to sit in your place on the couch. Scott, Allison, Stiles, and Lydia pile onto the couch while Isaac stands behind them.

“So, what’s up?” Allison wonders.

You were nervous to tell them both the good and bad news. Derek’s eyebrows raise in a teasing manner, waiting for you to talk.

“There’s a couple things we want to tell you guys,” you begin.

“You’re pregnant,” Stiles says in a joking tone, laughing after the fact. You stay silent, trying to conceal your smile. “Wait.” He quickly catches on.

“Shut up, you’re pregnant?” Allison excitedly yells.

“Yeah,” you respond with a huge grin on your lips. Her and Lydia jump up to pull you in for a hug, congratulating you.

“I thought I heard another heartbeat,” Isaac says, hugging you tightly. “Congratulations, you’re going to be an amazing mother.”

“Thank you, Isaac. That’s actually how we found out. Scott heard a fourth heartbeat while we were all together.”

“Scott knew and didn’t tell us?” Stiles butts himself into the conversation. Scott shrugs in retaliation.

“Hey, it wasn’t my place to tell. They weren’t ready, and I wasn’t going to blast their business until they were.” You thank him softly, hugging him next.

“So is it a girl or a boy?” Allison questions, Lydia’s eyes wide with wonder as well. Your hands fall to your stomach as you think about the doctor’s visit today.

“It’s a girl. Here!” You run over to your nightstand and grab the sonogram photos, bringing it over so they can see. Everyone passes the photos around as you stand beside your boyfriend, hugging him from the side, watching your closest friends celebrate the amazing news. For now.

“So I’m gonna be an uncle?” Stiles announces. Derek furrows his eyebrows but before he can snarkily respond, you cut him off.

“In a way, yes. But, there’s also something else,” you sadly continue. Everyone’s moods suddenly change at the tone of your voice. Derek’s grip tightens around you comfortingly, nodding in confirmation when you look up at him for support.

“We’re moving,” you tell them. No one moves an inch, their faces contorted in confusion and hurt.

“Moving as in moving out of the loft, or moving to another part of California?” Allison wonders. Your heartbeat quickens and you can feel the tears coming already.

“Actually, moving out of state,” Derek finishes for you. Still, no one moves.

“How far?” Lydida asks.

“Washington.” They all seem to relax just a little knowing that you’re not moving across the country, just one state away.

“Did you buy another house or are you moving into another abandoned loft?” Isaac jokes. Derek laughs and pulls you closer by the waist.

“No. We found a nice farmhouse on a big piece of land. A friend I had from New York was selling it, and he sold it to me at a pretty low price.”

“We’ll really miss you guys,” Scott finally breaks the awkward silence, reaching out to hug both of you together.

“Thank you for being so supportive, Scott,” you whisper.

“Anything for my two closest friends.”

—

Your new house was finally ready for you to move into about a month or so later, so you packed up everything, or lack thereof, in Derek’s loft and left for Washington. Everyone in the pack was there to say goodbye. Lots of tears were shed, promises to visit and call were made, and finally, you were on the road to your new future.

It was a stressful couple of days, Derek doing most of the work since he didn’t want you to overwork yourself. Thankfully, his friend sold the house fully furnished, so you didn’t have to buy any new furniture.

You finish decorating your bedroom by setting a picture frame of you and Derek on your fifth anniversary on your dresser before sitting on the bed and gazing out the large window to the beautiful mountains.

“Nursery is finished,” Derek announces as he walks into your room, flopping down onto the bed beside you. You crawl up to the headboard and wrap his arm around your shoulder to cuddle up against him.

“It’s starting to feel like home,” you say, closing your eyes, enjoying the peace. Derek’s hand comes to rest on your bump, his thumb rubbing over your shirt. He laughs softly when he feels your daughter kick his hand. He plays with her for a few minutes, moving his hand around your stomach to see if she follows. Butterflies fill your stomach from both her kicks and Derek’s warm laughter, your favorite sound.

“She’s going to be such a daddy’s girl,” you tell him. You reach up to kiss him sweetly before settling back down in his arms.

—

“Have you told the pack back home yet?” You ask Derek, quietly closing the door to the nursery of your new home.

It’s been a few days since you’ve given birth to your daughter, and it’s been quite crazy. You’ve barely gotten sleep, haven’t had much time to take a shower, your body is still recovering; basically all the things that come with being a new mother.

“I was just going to. I know Stiles is gonna be mad at me for not telling him the second she was born.” You giggle and curl into his body, eyes falling shut during a rare moment of peace.

“Come on,” he whispers, “let’s head back to our room.” You tiredly follow him down the hall, right into your room.

His phone beeps and buzzes with texts from the group, but he chooses to ignore that for now.

“I love you so much, (Y/N),” he mumbles against your forehead. “I’m so glad you’re the mother of my child, you’re already a perfect mother.”

“You’re already a great dad as well. Who knew the Sourwolf would be such an amazing dad?” He chuckles and slides under the covers.

“You wanna go take a shower before getting into bed?” He asks.

“Ugh, that sounds great. I’ll be quick.”

You do as you promised, taking the quickest yet longest shower you could, and returning back to Derek’s warm embrace as soon as you can. But, you find that he has your daughter resting against his bare chest, a sight that melts your heart.

“How’d everyone react?” You wonder, gently stroking your daughter’s back with your finger.

“They love her name,” he says, adoration dripping from his tone. “Thank you for letting me honor my mom.” You grin up at him and rest your head on his shoulder.

“She didn’t deserve what happened to her. She should have been alive to see her granddaughter.” Derek’s head falls onto yours as Talia stirs in his arms, getting comfortable again.

“Talia Eleanor Hale,” Derek whispers, “I love you so so much. Your grandmother was an incredible woman, and I’ll be sure to tell you every story I remember of her.” A small grin is permanently plastered on your face as he softly tells your daughter stories of his own mother, knowing he’ll never get tired of telling them.

“She’s already so loved,” you say. “By us and by the pack.”

“I know my mother would have loved her too.”

“She’d be really proud of you, Der.” Derek kisses you passionately for a few seconds, then presses his forehead against yours. He sniffles softly, as his emotions slowly take over him.

He’s truly happy in this moment.

“I can’t express how much I love you,” he murmurs.

#derek hale #derek hale imagines #derek hale imagine #derek hale x reader #tyler hoechlin #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfic #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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discover24 · 3 years

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THINGS TO DO IN TORRANCE, CALIFORNIA: TERRIFIC IDEAS!

Have you heard of Torrance?

This city, located in Los Angeles’ South Bay, is known for its cultural and ethnic diversity. As a consequence, it is an exciting place to explore (think beaches, eateries, and markets) when visiting Southern California.

This comprehensive guide will give you all the reasons to start planning a visit to Torrance.

THINGS TO DO IN TORRANCE

As a city of more than 147,000 residents, believe me when I say Torrance has a plethora of attractions, facilities, and open spaces available to the public. What follows is my local perspective on the best things to do in Torrance.

STROLL AROUND OLD TOWN

In the early 1900s, a real estate mogul called James Sydney Torrance took the chance to develop a community south of Los Angeles.

His investment paid off since the area incorporated as the City of Torrance in 1921 and grew in size through annexing different pieces of land.

The original planned community survives in what is known as Old Town. The quiet streets are sprinkled with businesses, residences, trees, parks, and monuments to local heroes.

I visit the area mainly to eat. My husband and I love By Brazil, a churrasqueria known for its home cooking and flavorful meat, chicken, and pork cuts. We save money by taking advantage of the lunch special (about $20 per person).

We were beyond excited when Madre Oaxacan Restaurant opened in the area. We adore Oaxacan food and it is great to have tlayudas, mole negro, and tasajo close to home.

For breakfast, we go to Eat at Rudy’s. For pastries (and donuts, ahem), we go to the Torrance Bakery. We meet with friends at Red Car. For something different, I recommend visiting the Chado Tea Room. Try one of their blossoming teas.

After lunch or dinner, stroll around the streets or pay a visit to Del Prado Park.

JOIN A WALKING TOUR

Every 4th Sunday of the month, the Torrance Historical Society offers a free tour of Old Town Torrance. The 90-minute tour will take you to several landmarks and expand your knowledge about the city.

Note: The tour is offered from May to October. Confirm details a couple of days before the tour date.

VISIT HOF HUT TORRANCE

The reputation of Hofburgers spread and business boomed. In those days Hofburgers cost 15 cents and cheese dogs a dime.

In 1947 my father married my mother, Donna, and with the need for a year round business opened the first Hof’s Hut in Belmont Shore. My mother, who was waiting tables during opening day, gave birth to me later that night, September 16, 1951. So I guess you could say I was born to be in the restaurant business.

Looking back over those early years, I attribute Hof’s success to 2 things: my father’s insistence on using only top quality ingredients to make the best breakfasts, burgers, chili, onion rings and fresh home-baked pies in the county and his unwavering focus on providing truly great service. Though they’ve grown a lot in the decades since, with Hof’s Hut restaurants now located throughout Southern California.

For more information related to hot huf torrance visit their shop now!

VISIT A POPULAR FILMING LOCATION

TV and movie fans will be interested in knowing that Torrance High School has been featured in several well-known productions.

The building gained notoriety for serving as the high school on the popular Beverly Hills, 90210 series. In addition, its facade and patio have been part of TV shows such as Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Medium and movies such as She’s All That and Bruce Almighty.

ENTER BIVALVE PARADISE AT THE JOLLY OYSTER MARKET

When I told my husband, I was writing an article about things to do in Torrance, he told me not to forget about The Jolly Oyster. Then, he repeated the same thing 20 times.

Per my husband’s mandate, I am suggesting you visit this market specializing in oysters, clams, and crab claws. They have a big local following and excellent reviews.

Actually, this brand started with a truck at the San Buenaventura State Beach (in Ventura, 70 miles north of Los Angeles). We used to stop when driving back from Santa Barbara. My husband was elated when they opened a market in our backyard.

Note: They also serve oysters at Smorgasbord LA, an eating extravaganza taking place every Sunday in Downtown Los Angeles.

GET IN TOUCH WITH NATURE AT THE MADRONA MARSH PRESERVE

The Madrona Marsh showcases the marshland that used to cover the coastal plains of Southern California. Most of these areas were drained in order to develop living and business complexes. Therefore, this marsh is a rare example of how things used to be.

The place provides a habitat for birds, insects, frogs, reptiles, and small mammals. In addition, it is a stop for migrating birds.

The preserve is open to the public every day (except Monday) from 10:00 a.m. to 5:00 p.m. An on-site nature center provides information about the creatures calling home the area and facilitates different types of activities (hikes, workshops, etc.)

SPEND THE DAY AT THE BEACH

A lot of people mention the beach cities of Los Angeles County (Manhattan Beach, Hermosa Beach, and Redondo Beach) but they do not realize Torrance has 1.5 miles of beachfront.

The long stretch of sand between the Redondo Pier and the Palos Verdes Peninsula is shared between Redondo Beach and Torrance. The Torrance part starts south of Miramar Park (where Esplanade meets Paseo de la Playa).

This beach is less hectic than others in the South Bay so, it is a good place to spend the day without having to share your space with hundreds of people. In season, there is a cafe and beach rental shack on-site. The other nice thing is that the Riviera Village, an area with more than 20 restaurants, is located a couple of blocks away.

Also, keep in mind Torrance Beach is the terminus of the Marvin Braude Bike Trail. This 22-mile paved way starts at Will Rogers State Beach and continues through Santa Monica, Venice Beach, Marina del Rey, and other beach cities. Since you are on Torrance Beach, you can use the trail to bike to nearby beach cities. I love to ride along this trail!

ENJOY A BIT OF JAPAN AT MITSUWA MARKETPLACE

Mitsuwa is a supermarket chain with one of the largest selections of imported Japanese goods in the United States. However, this place is more than a supermarket. They sell electronics cosmetics and pharmaceutical goods. And, we cannot forget to mention the food court serving everything from ramen to tempura.

You can spend a decent amount of time browsing the halls and taking advantage of the samples (usually during the weekends). If you feel hungry, you either can grab something at the prepared food section (the selection is mind-blowing) or pick a stall at the food court. I always take several things home to eat later.

The other cool thing is that Mitsuwa has different “fairs” featuring dishes from the different prefectures of Japan or a specific ingredient. This is a good opportunity to learn more about the culture of the country.

STOP BY THE BEST FARMERS MARKET EVER

Many farmers’ markets in the Los Angeles area get tons of rave reviews. I am not sure if it is local pride but, in my opinion, they are not as good as Torrance Farmers Market.

This market is huge! They have products from 60 farms plus flowers, honey, baked goods, nuts, candy, fish, eggs, prepared food, an international food court, and live music. You have the opportunity to sample a lot of different things and try things you have never tried before. Come hungry because you will need space in your stomach to tackle all the offerings.

HUNT FOR AN ANTIQUE TREASURE

If you enjoy browsing for antiques and unique objects in a lively environment, then you have to stop by the Torrance Antique Street Faire.

This monthly event (4th Sunday) gathers 200 vendors and attracts thousands to Old Town Torrance. The fair has been going strong for 20 years and it is a South Bay favorite. Bring the entire family to this fun event. Admission and parking are free.

SHOP AT THE ROADIUM OPEN AIR MARKET

The Roadium can be described as a swap meet or flea market (even though it is “officially” an open-air market). I am pretty sure you are familiar with the concept but, if not, this is a place where used objects are sold or exchanged. Offerings can be new or never used. The idea is to acquire a good at a lower price than usual.

The Roadium covers a big space and it is well organized. You can find cosmetics, perfumes, clothes, shoes, and bags as well as automotive, gardening, locksmithing, and hardware store items.

The market is opened daily but the biggest number of vendors set up stalls during the weekends. Admission is $1 – $2. Additional parking can be found at a lot, located at the intersection of Redondo Beach Boulevard and Crenshaw Boulevard. A free shuttle transports shoppers to the market’s entrance.

VISIT A MUSEUM

If your preferences are along with the art, history, and culture subjects, it is possible to sharpen your knowledge of those areas by visiting one of the museums in the city of Torrance.

You have the following options:

Torrance Art Museum – focuses on the contemporary art of Southern California. Admission is free.

California Museum of Fine Art – museum and gallery showcasing works of global artists. Opened from Wednesday to Saturday (afternoons)

Torrance Historical Society – offers local exhibits and archives. Open from Wednesday to Saturday (afternoons).

Western Museum of Flight – aviation museum located at Torrance’s Municipal Airport. Opened Tuesday to Sunday. Admission is $5.

Chen Art Gallery – houses one of the most important Chinese art collections in the United States. Opened Tuesday to Friday. Admission is free.

GO BREWERY HOPPING

Torrance is one of the leaders of the craft beer movement in Los Angeles. I am not sure if another city in the area has as many breweries as Torrance.

These breweries are usually located in an industrial zone and facilities are warehouse style. Most places are “bring your own food” (or snacks). Sometimes, a food truck makes a stop or a taquero is serving delicious morsels.

I am not a beer drinker, so I cannot really tell you which place is better. You will need to find out for yourself. But, let me tell you that the places I am mentioning below are alive, thriving, and expanding. Therefore, they must be good.

Smog City Brewing, Monkish Brewing, Cosmic Brewery, The Dudes’ Brewing, and The Strand Brewing are located very not that far from one another (less than a mile).

Not far away, in Old Town Torrance, you have Red Car Restaurant & Brewery and Yorkshire Square Brewery. Absolution Brewing Company and Scholb Premium Ales are located west of the other breweries.

Standing by itself, next to a 99 Cents store, you will find Hop Saint. The food here is phenomenal.

GET TRANSPORTED TO GERMANY (OR CENTRAL EUROPE)

If you have visited Germany, Hungary, Austria, Czechia, and other countries in Central Europe, you wonder how you will survive without sausages, sauerkraut, and goulash once you get back home.

Well, in my case, I almost cried with happiness when I entered the Alpine Village. The market sells about 30 types of sausages (some prepared on-site), potato dumplings, spaetzle, pickled items, and much more. They also have a bakery, cafe, and deli.

Those looking for a more involved experience can visit the restaurant bratwurst, beef goulash, Weiner schnitzel, cold salads, hot dishes, and desserts. I cannot recommend this place enough!

#travel #tour #discover

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crackcrocs · 3 years

Text

DEATH WILL ONLY BE THE BEGINNING #3

3. Transformation Central

the entities of my personalities would like to come together in one voice that speaks through me, we or I call this collection of words from the mustiest corners of my brain to this note page to voice something that might come close to what I feel underneath the skin I wear. In all my unorganised words- I might even go as far as to call this a poem, titled:

‘TRANSFORMATION CENTRAL’

sub characters in my head would appreciate if this could be visualised & understood through as deep a lens as humanly possible. even I confuse myself so if you can decode or relate to any of this, wonderful. If not, I’m locked in my own mind, swallowed the keys to my soul.

SIMILARITIES & INTERCONNECTEDNESS BETWEEN HUMAN & PLANT CONSCIOUSNESS EXIST! if you look closely at my nose freckles you’ll see the resemblance of the constellations above. if you look at the human veins & the layout of a tree, this is further proof.

{VISUALS THROUGH A SEPIA WINDOW STARING @ THE AUTUMN LEAFS; IMAGINING THE SEEDS UNDERNEATH, THROUGH NUMB ROOT VESSELS THAT PERMEATE THROUGH EVERY MEMBRANE OF MY EXTERNAL TO INTERNAL ENVIRONMENT}

~FEATURING THE VICIOUS CYCLE OF DEPRESSION & PERFECTIONISM.

here goes:

What is this part of my mind ?

If you want; delve inside-

I may look sweet like Alice,

but underneath it all

I deteste looking in the mirror

-cos I see the mad hatter.

my inner child needs a platter-

full of care not distortion & abuse pls.

less fibbin would’ve been a breeze.

now following the dead fish in the stream!

HOW on EARTH do I fit with the cod & the Haddock?

I’m the rainbow fish- beat & battered.

dim my own light cos I’m too afraid to shine.

alone.

thieves tried to steal my shiny scales.

I sat and watched them grow.

In the sea realm they were mean gargantuan selfish whales, with poisonous shark fangs & alligator tails. scorpion hands. (gremlins)

and still they make me feel like the alien-

I cant take it.

Make it make sense ?

I can’t.

controller in my hand-

Off balance stance.

anxiously I move round like a wobbly jelly.

where’s the button to balance my chi & shut out the ego ?

the teLLIE telling lies to our vision!

change the channel aura terracotta orange- daily dosage of vitamin D & C.

catch me sun gazing by the sea

head buzzin like a bee.

speaking from a dusty box

stuck on top of a forbidden shelf

cos I dunno how else.

I’m tryna delve deep but forgot how to dive

How can i visualise? scenery foggy-

the establishment man with the glue gun got me xD

inner monk burning but at peace

Cos I refuse to believe

If the only way is the American dream

Interconnected; like the frog in science -let’s dissect it!

down to every floating atom spirit neighbouring your door

subcategories & divisions, it’s more!

than the rich and the poor -prism that’s been built

do we all feel like a performance monkey on stilts?

will my data be extracted & used to mould a robots personality some day?

well obviously not.

does the price of our lives all amount down to slave ways?

LABOUR YAY!

but morals & values it seems we’ve forgot.

sO If i don’t speak its cos I’m lost.

or maybe i’m enlightened-

Standing at the edge of the porch;

watching TRYING to understand how the flowers grow.

questioning eVERYTHING man made!

I’ve stepped out of the perfect picture frame

I can see the coal pollute the sky

I need to hop on the train-

but I’m comfortable

Sunset to sunrise statue standing still.

what’s the ingredients to life’s yucky pie?

I’ve exceeded mental lotteries.

Sanity n universal peace would be a trophy.

TIL then I’ll be crafting & shaping a solid pottery reality,

with a few pence, gum, and a bandana of belongings tied to stick.

thinking one day I’ll be laying the bricks

& building a kingdom of bliss.

guess for now I’ll use the intricate delicate materials in my tool box- that’s all I’ve got.

might have a long way- maybe worth a shot.

I observe, cruisin in the sky.

dunno why..

I jus look @ the hills.

Only time & history reveals.

no thanks mr men-

I don’t want your prescription pills.

there’s enough propaganda as it is.

I won’t jump on the merry go round-

til my core trusts & envisions we’ll actually feel safe!

I don’t want to take part in this faux fur, sweet nothings & a jack in a box punching blur, so called future.

oh and genuinely thanks quarantine-for once again, I can hear bird sounds!

guess this is me tryna speak out loud!!!...

it’s not thrilling

system time killing everything-

mother nature’s oxygen

everything is nauseating

clock ticking, I better start creating.

they should write a book on how to be free when the system set us up to believe that we’re tied to the cut down trees that gives them a currency of greed that they breed.

If blindfolded, I don’t wanna eat what they feed.

Whilst they profit of us -tell us smile and the bandits don’t wanna see us happy.

they’re too busy robbing all our hoods.

In exchange for the silence, they’ve granted us with a 21’st century fashion garment of a slave muzzle! labelled conform.

More delusion to add to the already desensitised norm.

zootonic diseases, welcome covid 19 to your plastic kiddy tea party!- apologies for questioning your motive!

Been handed too many hot plates with a post it note saying HOLD THIS.

we’ll be okay just hush.

Same Shan message told to every generational seed.

If we don’t TRY overpower-

we’ll never succeed!

it’s getting even more scary.

Artificial intelligence.

Societal negligence..

my canvas isn’t clear-dunno am I schizo ?

finger painting, cos it makes more sense.

struggling to blend.

borderline conspiracist pretending to be fine;

moving the goal post, hovering above the race line.

who made the chalk? who set the lanes?

I wanna know it all, maybe¿ far past insane.

I can fit all I need in the palm of my hand,

Maybe even less! cut a finger off not sure it’ll even add stress.

hi from personality Peter, even sober- always away with the fairies.

Pass the pixie dust, I’m in a rush

Found shelter in the comfort of pan physicists timer, no not the one on your phone!

Ring ring, skeptical! is it my demon or my mommy on the phone?

I’m stuck in the airspace of an infinite glass filled with beach particles trying to form myself standing up still attempting not to slip through the hands of my very own discovery.

time is running out & ill go when I go.

I’m sitting inside the fly trap -

stardust, chakras can you feel the sensation colors like a starburst.

deep emotion is a curse.

still entrapped in the sand dune of nothingness-

flipping a domino monopoly of solidified thoughts as I sway with the wind.

I’m the trapped sandbox in the playground & the slipping sand in my own hands.

Inhale chronic but I wanna enter the quiet realm of white noise

-color of a wife beater vest, calmer than the ease in ignorance of a red neck.

sadomasochistic, messes.

but oblivion, seems like less stress.

Unfortunately I can see, with all eyes

empathetic paralysis, gets me vexed.

Punching truth into the core of your chest!

It’s not funny, neither is the one on the receiving end..

My limbs are numb

& im done playing octopus alchemy.

I want minimalism & life can be simple,

Evil entities have made it hard.

Maybe I’ve got stars above my head like an old cartoon character.

But I can’t make it make sense, are they out to get me. worse all of us? Or have I bottled myself tryna re mesh the broken shards,

I feel glued to the floor cos there’s a pretty price to pay if you want more.

I see life through a different lense, maybe born downside up, Benjamin button I came out the back door-

Outside looking in, digesting confusion.

Is to be a product of environment a sin?

rummage through my messy brain.

personalities sardine packed in this tin

I’m the wizard of my mania

Scaring & attracting the black crows-

they’re my friends.

Sometimes still a cowardly lion

Roaring pain & true riddles at the wrenching wicked witch posse of the west.

will my voice ever be loud enough to shed light wit my words and grate the sweet zest

In to the cake i’m baking?

Probably not.

Got more thoughts than the autumn leaves collected by the garden rake. alone.

gathering & storing the pains of yesterday.

sometimes I stay in line

Other times in my head Im on my hands juggling out of time.

but I really don’t mind if I lose or win.

we all have a pace

I jus don’t want the 1% to win the race.

It’s unfair!

Humanity does anyone care ??

Half lady

half fairy

Good MOOrning-

from my anagrams.

no I’m not a cow.

twister fidget spinner brain in the flesh-

form of expression this time around lyrics.

feel I’m jus a silly rubix

& still mourning

I don’t like dairy

pass the oat milk.

Are you aware the industry are sabotaging our diets?

we want peace!

the powerful elite-

perceive & deceive

the scene they want us to be.

chuck the narcissistic psychopathic pie back in our face-

every time we almost found & addressed the Programme & Control man in the maze.

evil & extroverted- he said that the anarchists have to be the cause of riots.

working isn’t class. I said let’s switch roles- he said pass.

It’s piss! Who’s got the bomb & the guns?

Who got the land? off wit OUR heads 4 fun!

it’s pure scary.

Pharmaceutics handshake.

with the cooked up suppliers, also crooked wack liars.

I’d rather shot a gallon of bloody blubbery infused slaughter house milk

If it meant we didn’t use cocoons for silk.

why not add a drizzle of bleach to the concoction & maybe that’s a reach.

every time I guzzle fakeness, it taste peak.

I want real fruit, what next-

a seedless peach ???

what’s the difference between a weirdo & a freak?

layers & levels to the shit.

Magnifying tapping the window of society, I’ll be puffing green til I get to the land of Oz.

sponge soaked soaking up emotions

Suffocated by deduction of care in life

feel entrapped in this paradigm

what am I thinking ?

got the verbs & a cuppa tea

It’s mixed with torment & desire to be free.

I’d rather be awake than asleep

When I get too comfy I feel weak

Demons they reap

underneath

rip the seems as I bleed

Concrete

Solid

Emotions

Is all you’re getting

It’s all sad scenes in the imagery I’m setting

people need care we seem to be forgetting

why are we in debt wit

a posse of clowns

pay the price so we can get a frown

here’s some seratonin

quit ya moaning

life is all sound

aw yeh¿ if you’re not an over thinker!

product of environment- Sirius flickers

theyve done a ritual like it’s Wicca

now here’s your gold sticker..

for managing to co operate.

In this world fuelled off of evil n hate

waking ups a bloody disgrace

I am not amazed.

Man I love my fam n my friends

Just hate this part of my brain that feels the need to play pretend

sometimes I feel insane

but I’m calm

need to escape so I don’t do harm

Gold lioness in the sky by the sea

with puff the magic dragon

fire out my mouth, fuel helps me breathe

I will shine bright

Promise imma be alright

even tho I’m not sure why

I function like this

I wanna be myself

It’s just hard to find the comfortability

To feel happy and pretty

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Ring around sing about overdose emotions

Sorry dunno how to communicate

Heads in a constant debate

Should I go or should I stay

My head clashes

Burnin the next ciggy as my thoughts become ashes.

#LCZABIBU #deathwillonlybethebeginning

9 notes · View notes

tabloidtoc · 3 years

Text

National Enquirer, December 28

You can buy a copy of this issue for your very own at my eBay store: https://www.ebay.com/str/bradentonbooks

Cover: Ghislaine Maxwell scandal explodes

Page 2: George Clooney was rushed to the hospital after rapidly dropping 28 pounds to play an ailing astronomer in his latest movie The Midnight Sky and the harrowing incident has infuriated worried wife Amal Clooney -- George’s scare came when he was diagnosed with life-threatening pancreatitis days before he was scheduled to start filming on a glacier in Finland -- Amal was unhappy and angry that he put his health on the line for the role and she was also furious because this wasn’t the first time the father of her twins has been in harm’s way and she’s demanding he take better care of himself so he’ll be around to care for his kids

Page 3: Lori Loughlin’s deluded daughter Olivia Jade Giannulli is clueless over the college admissions scandal that landed her parents in jail and believes her own hype according to a body language expert -- in an interview on Jada Pinkett Smith’s Red Table Talk Olivia claimed she had no idea posing for pictures on a rowing machine to finagle a crew scholarship to the University of Southern California despite never having practiced the sport was deceitful but body language expert Susan Constantine said Olivia doesn’t appear to have any understanding of the consequences of her actions or those of mom Lori and dad Mossimo Giannulli -- after observing Olivia’s confession Constantine said she didn’t notice any deceptive indicators such as pauses in her speech or shrugging of her shoulders however she labeled Olivia completely unequivocally oblivious which she said made it challenging to judge Olivia’s truthfulness

Page 4: Lonely Diane Keaton is longing for love and she’s turned to former flame Jack Nicholson for help in landing a new guy -- Diane is truly desperate to find a man and she knows if there’s one person who can help her navigate the dating scene after all this time it’s Jack -- the Oscar-winning actress shocked the world when she recently admitted she hasn’t been on a date in 35 years and she made a joke of it but the pandemic has made her realize how lonely she really is -- Diane would never date Jack again but knows he has a lot of eligible friends who would fit her dating profile

* Dying Olivia Newton-John worries endlessly about her daughter Chloe and made a touching final request of close pal John Travolta: Please take care of Chloe after I’m gone -- Olivia’s concerns for Chloe spiked after she blasted the COVID-19 vaccine on social media writing that natural medicine is the party she belongs to -- Olivia has been battling stage 4 breast cancer while John lost his wife Kelly Preston to the same disease and John loves and admires Olivia for the way she’s battled this disease and she’s given him the hope and encouragement he needs -- now Chloe’s ongoing issues have pushed Olivia to beg John to pledge he’ll be there for her daughter because Chloe has spent over $450,000 on multiple plastic surgeries including breast enhancements and a nose job and lip enhancements and Botox and she’s also battled anorexia and depression which led to bouts with cocaine and alcohol addiction -- Olivia has always been deeply concerned about who would look out for Chloe if she wasn’t around and now that she can see the end is near she asked John to be that person; he never blinked an eye and said of course

Page 5: Ozzy Osbourne’s frail and feeble appearance has friends fearing for the rocker but he has no plans to abandon a 2022 comeback even if it kills him -- the 72-year-old singer has battled Parkinson’s disease and crippling nerve damage but has vowed he will die onstage -- nobody disputes he has the heart of a lion and it’s great to see him out and about again recording music and talking the good talk but ultimately Ozzy is a very sickly guy who needs to protect himself and not charge around trying to delude himself by living life at a pace that doesn’t make sense anymore

Page 6: Rattled reality star Kylie Jenner is living in fear after being terrorized by two crazed fans and is now spending $350,000 a month on a 25-person security detail -- Kylie filed court documents seeking a restraining order against Justin Bergquist who allegedly broke into her $36.5 million California home last month

Page 7: Lonely Ryan Seacrest may have nearly half a billion bucks in the bank but he’d trade in his riches for another shot at love -- he was so devastated by his breakup with on-again off-again galpal Shayna Taylor last summer he fears he may never find a woman to spend the rest of his life with and he now realizes her put his career before his personal life one too many times and may suffer for it forever -- Ryan’s recent health woes have been a wake-up call and forced him to understand the price he’s paying for taking his partners for granted for so long -- Ryan now realizes life is too short to go it alone and it’s finally dawned on him he’s not invincible and not so self-sufficient after all

* Miley Cyrus’ admission that she’s had a lot of FaceTime sex has left friends and advisers fearing she may be setting herself up for some unwanted exposure -- though Miley explained she’s turned to virtual hookups to avoid physical contact during the pandemic but she’s putting herself at an entirely different kind of risk and she’s setting herself up as a potential victim of revenge porn

Page 10: Hot Shots -- Brooke Burke showed off her toned figure in Malibu, Andrew Garfield looked bored on the NYC set of Tick Tick...Boom!, Busy Philipps cleaning, Audrina Patridge and her daughter Kirra on a Beverly Hills playdate

Page 11: Guy Fieri is eating up heaps of praise for handing out $500 grants to more than 43,000 restaurant workers across the nation -- he scrambled to raise over $21.5 million in seven weeks to help legions of unemployed restaurant laborers who have suffered financially due to the COVID-19 health and economic crisis -- through his new Restaurant Employee Relief Fund Guy personally buttonholed fat cats at cash-rich corporations such as PepsiCo and Uber Eats and Moet Hennessy USA to make donations -- he shows how he did it and shines a light on the industry’s continuing challenges in Restaurant Hustle 2020 a documentary he produced for the Food Network

* Garth Brooks and Trisha Yearwood are spreading yuletide cheer with their TV holiday special but they’re more interested in ringing cash registers than Christmas bells -- Garth and Trisha rake in $60 million a year from concert ticket sales and CD purchases and merchandising but the couple saw their cash flow slow during the pandemic -- they lost a bunch of money but they had the unique opportunity to do TV specials and grab a big chunk of it back -- while the $10 million they are pocketing for their TV specials won’t make up for what they would have netted on tour it was a sweet stocking stuffer and they both want to get back on the road and really rake it in but TV has made the wait a lot easier

Page 12: Straight Shuter -- With Beyonce and Taylor Swift facing off for Song of the Year at the upcoming Grammy Awards producers are scrambling to prevent another Kanye West explosion like what happened in 2009

* Killing off The Talk may be the only hope of saving Drew Barrymore’s tanking talk show

* The Real Housewives of New York are treating the first Black cast member Eboni K. Williams with kid gloves because no one wants to come across as racist

* Niecy Nash and Jessica Betts (picture)

Page 13: January Jones’ desperate bid for online attention has pals concerned she may be cracking up -- her red-hot career appears to have cooled since Mad Men ended in 2015 and January is dying to land another plum part like Betty Draper but she’s going about it the wrong way -- she’s been posting sexy bikini pictures and leggy dance numbers on Instagram but that’s not the way to catch the eye of casting directors especially with so few shows in production during the COVID-19 lockdown

* Caitlyn Jenner has reached out to trans actor Elliot Page offering to be his big sister in an opportunistic PR ploy -- while Caitlyn was one of many trans celebs including Jazz Jennings and Geena Rocero to offer Elliot congratulations and support, Caitlyn viewed the announcement as a new opportunity to leap back into the limelight and she believes that by aligning herself with Elliot she can regain her status as an activist and the symbol of transgender rights in Hollywood -- Elliot is happy to listen to Caitlyn’s advice but he’s been navigating his gender issues for years and doesn’t need guidance and he’s not going to be rude but he doesn’t need the help

Page 14: Crime

Page 15: A never-before-heard audio recording is of iconic soul singer James Brown’s wish to leave his $100 million fortune to educate poor children -- in the garbled 1999 recording the singer who died suddenly in 2006 called the creation of his I Feel Good foundation his lasting legacy but his precious foundation has not seen a dime because his fortune has remained tied up in court since his death which is the subject of an investigation by the Fulton County, Georgia District Attorney’s office after allegations surfaced that Brown might have been poisoned by someone after his money

Page 16: American Life

Page 17: What Shocked and Rocked in 2020 -- the best scoops and stories of the year

Page 25: Fired Hillsong Church pastor Carl Lentz was so starstruck by his celebrity parishioners he believed he was a star himself and his ego fueled his shocking fall from grace and now he’s getting mental health treatment after being accused of cheating on his wife and getting sacked for moral failures -- Carl tended the trendy megachurch’s New York City flock and regularly rubbed shoulders with celebs including NBA star Kevin Durant and singer Selena Gomez and even once invited Justin Bieber to live with him before being booted by bigwigs but now he’s said to be getting help at an outpatient facility specializing in depression and pastoral burnout but cunning Carl may have made the move simply to revamp his wrecked reputation

Page 26: Prince Harry and Meghan Markle are heading to couples therapy in a desperate bid to stay together because their marriage is hanging by a thread -- the pair are at each other’s throats as they struggle to adjust to their new life in America -- Harry’s gone from being excited about the move to feeling tortured and it’s like he swapped his royal prison in Britain for a new hell in a $14 million California mansion and he fears he’s made a terrible mistake but Meghan’s ordering him to man up and grab this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to make millions away from the monarchy’s suffocating shadow -- the fighting came to a head before the holidays when Harry was feeling especially homesick and guilty about abandoning his family especially his brother Prince William and his grandmother Queen Elizabeth -- adding to their troubles Meghan seems hellbent on staying in the public eye during the pandemic and she masterminded their personal video calls to charities in London and the U.S. and the secret deliveries of meals to the needy but then she made them public and the truth is it’s The Meghan Show now and Harry’s just the side act

Page 27: A charming Chinese spy bedded two Midwestern mayors and courted other clueless politicians to weasel her way into U.S. government circles -- Chinese national Christina Fang also known as Fang Fang, reportedly entered the U.S. as a college student in 2011

Page 31: Candice Bergen moaned that at the age of 74 she’s a wreck and that she has a wattle -- Candice admitted to having her eyes done while filming the Murphy Brown reboot because they were very hooded and as for today she knows she should have injections because she has deep lines along her lip but she can’t take the pain

* Rachael Ray lost her New York home to a blazing inferno but her holidays were salvaged by the warmth of community spirit -- following the devastating fire she and her husband moved into the property’s guesthouse and in a clip on The Rachael Ray Show the emotional host showed off her festively decorated digs and gushed she didn’t know where she’d be without friends and a community and people so dear to her that helped her bring Christmas to life even when you’re not at home

Page 32: Health Watch -- blood test predicts Alzheimer’s

Page 34: Longtime lovebirds Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell are hoping to make a movie with their whole family -- the star-studded cast would include Goldie’s kids Kate Hudson and Oliver Hudson and the couple’s son Wyatt Russell -- as for filming with the entire gang Goldie gushed that they have thought about it and she’d love to do something with her kids and the grandchildren too

* Hollywood Hookups -- Kristin Cavallari and Jeff Dye heating up, Malik Beasley and Larsa Pippen dating but Malik’s wife Montana Yao filed for divorce, Chrishell Stause and Keo Motsepe dating

Page 36: Infamous Hollywood hotel Chateau Marmont has a storied history of sex, drugs and rock ‘n’ roll ever since it opened its doors in 1929 and nearly a century later it hasn’t been tamed -- even during the pandemic the majestic hotel is wild with drunks, overdoses and luckily averted suicide attempts and according to 911 records the debauched celebrity haunt is filled with people having breakdowns -- the Chateau’s crazy days and nights are legendary: it’s where John Belushi died in one of the bungalows in 1982 from a deadly cocaine-heroin concoction

Page 38: One of the most iconic images from the James Bond films which is a handgun used by Sean Connery in Dr. No has sold for $256,000 at auction in Beverly Hills -- the gun is a deactivated semi-automatic Walther PP pistol -- the winning bidder who asked to remain anonymous is an American who’s seen every James Bond film with his children -- a helmet created for Tom Cruise in Top Gun also sold at the auction for $108,000 while a sword used by Bruce Willis in Pulp Fiction sold for $35,200

* Dolly Parton has one major thing left on her bucket list which is she wants to see Beyonce sing Jolene one of the country star’s signature songs -- Jolene has been recorded more than any other song Dolly has ever written but that isn’t enough for her because she also wants to see it updated by one of the top female stars of a new generation -- it has been recorded worldwide over 400 times in lots of different languages but nobody’s ever had a really big hit record on it and Dolly always hoped somebody might do it someday by someone like Beyonce

* Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson has wrestled his way into the alcohol market with his own tequila brand and lifted it into first place as the most successful spirit launch in history and he’s even on track to double George Clooney’s first-year launch -- Dwayne is expected to move more than 300,000 cases of small-batch Teremana Tequila in its first year of trading

Page 40: Smitten singer Rihanna has fallen hard for A$AP Rocky but friends fear the playboy rapper will leave her broken-hearted -- Rocky is a charming guy but he also has a love ‘em and leave ‘em reputation and everyone’s concerned she’s more into him than he is into her -- Rihanna’s desperate to meet a man she can see herself with for the rest of her life and she believes Rocky might be the one but everybody thinks she’s rushing into things with Rocky -- Rocky is not interested in a long-term romance and Rihanna shouldn’t be thinking of this as more than a port in the storm

* Lizzo is livin’ large and she’s showing every inch of her jiggles and folds on TikTok -- the body-positivity enthusiast wore a white bikini for an all-angles video in which she amply demonstrated the tricks models and celebs use to look slimmer -- she bared her belly and back and legs and sometimes jiggled her thighs or grabbed a hunk of herself to prove there’s more to luscious ladies than meets the eye and wrote, “Wild to see the body positive movement come so far. Proud of the big girls who gave it wings.”

Page 42: Red Carpet -- The Crown stars -- Claire Foy, Emma Corrin, Gillian Anderson, Vanessa Kirby, Erin Doherty

Page 47: Odd List -- baseball fan Darren Johnson hatched an unusual idea for his new chicken coop making it a model of Houston’s former Eighth Wonder of the World The Astrodome

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glorious-blackout · 4 years

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Self-Indulgent Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino/Simulation Theory Crossover Part One

(Should probably think of a better title at some point but for now I’ve got nothing)

@rock-n-roll-fantasy It’s about time I finally stopped teasing and started posting something, isn’t it? 😅 I should be able to post Part Two tonight as well and technically Part Three was the initial teaser (which due to being written beforehand doesn’t line up as perfectly as I’d like, but I’m too lazy to change it right now) so I’ll link those as soon as I can. Hopefully the rest won’t take too long! I’m now at the stage of having spent so much time thinking about this behemoth that I’m a little sick of it, but I hope you enjoy it! 🥰

Part Two, Part Three

Mark thinks he could live a thousand lifetimes and still never get tired of this view.

Not so much the hotel itself, though he supposes that makes for an impressive enough sight. With its sleek curves carved into smooth cream-coloured stone - designed to resemble a natural rocky outcrop rather than a man-made construction - it’s little surprise that guests willingly travel through the inky blackness of space to rest here for a while. Beneath his perch on the hotel’s impressive outdoor balcony, a turquoise pool stares invitingly back, the shimmering waters undisturbed by so much as a breeze. In the distance, resting in a cove upon the roof, he can hear the distant chatter of guests enjoying a luncheon at the newly opened taqueria. The restaurant itself is concealed from view by an overhanging blood-red canopy, but he can visualise the diners clearly, paying a fortune for the best food the moon has to offer while gazing out towards nearby gentrified apartments and undulating valleys.

The taqueria represents the newest addition to the premises. The hotel already plays host to a pair of Italian and Japanese restaurants, alongside an all-you-can-eat buffet for those who prefer to stuff their faces without judgement, but all three have been outshone of late by the new arrival. Mark had pursued the outlandish idea following a drunken remark from one guest who decried the absence of good Mexican food on the moon. If he’d realised that said taqueria would go on to become the prime topic of several mind-numbing meetings then perhaps he’d have let the joke die without further comment, but he himself had been too drunk at the time to possess that level of foresight.

By this point he’s so sick of hearing about it that he had to be physically forced to read the glowing reviews upon the restaurant’s grand opening. He would have been much happier simply relegating them to the nearest bin, though admittedly the less favourable articles had given him a good chuckle. Buried among the countless four-star reviews had been a particularly unimpressed critic who managed to fashion a terrible pun out of ‘taco’, ‘taqueria’ and ‘tacky’ for his headline, before awarding Mark’s efforts with a pitiful two stars. Mark had been so tickled by it that he’d immediately ordered the article to be framed and hung on his office wall.

Pulling his gaze away from the hotel itself, he draws his attention to the nearby town which has cropped up in recent years, predating the hotel by only a matter of months. The surrounding area once served as a camping ground for scientific projects, populated by scattered white tents and forklift trucks, but little trace remains of those good intentions now. Mark’s surprised he’s even allowed to lay eyes upon the town, so reserved is it for the richest of the rich. Gaudy apartments have sprung up around a narrow, elevated highway like overgrown weeds, with more and more buildings creeping outwards as the years go by. No doubt it won’t be long before his view is completely obscured by giant lumps of steel and tall windows. The topmost floors carry a price-tag of millions, or so he’s been told; their suites offering splendid views of the deep canyons on the lunar surface and the towering space station on the outskirts. Those properties must be a haven for nosy old dears enjoying their unearned retirement, content to sit by the windows as they watch the rockets come and go. In quieter moments, Mark likes to imagine the casual conversations that must take place on those uppermost floors as he ponders how the other half live: “Look love, there’s another one coming in now!”, “Russian or American?”, “Think it might be English, actually...”, “Oh, not those bastards!”

Mark had been offered a first-floor apartment prior to his arrival, though he suspects the proposal had been made in jest. The eye-watering price-tag for rent alone had been enough to persuade him that his humble suite on the hotel’s fifth floor would be perfectly adequate. He can’t say he’s ever regretted that decision; the holier-than-thou attitude of the locals is insufferable enough without him being forced to live among them. Besides, this way he’s guaranteed a better view.

A droning hum draws his eyes skyward and a tight smile tugs at his lips. Just on time. The new arrival cruises lazily across the thin atmosphere, the rocket’s hull a deep fire-engine red as thrusters spill black smoke and bursts of flame from the rear. A private vessel, most likely. Company starships don’t tend to be so kitsch for fear of throwing off rich clients with elegant sensibilities. No doubt this particular ship is some playboy’s new toy – the space-age equivalent of a 70s Lamborghini – but so long as it comes bearing plenty of paying guests, Mark certainly isn’t in a position to complain.

He watches as the ship prepares for its final descent, drifting towards the spindly tower situated five miles away, notable for the endlessly flashing lights adorning its clinically white exterior. A lighthouse for the modern age. The thrill of watching spaceships come and go has started to waver in recent years. Knowing that what he’s seeing has less to do with the wonder of space travel and more to do with commercial ventures has sucked the childish wonder from his heart, but there’s still enjoyment to be found in watching the crafts make their landing. Once upon a time, railway-watchers must have gleaned similar amusement from witnessing steam-trains pass by, while they munched on their picnic sandwiches and squinted through binoculars with bleary eyes.

For all that he’s allowed himself to become jaded by certain aspects of his new home, he finds comfort in knowing that one sight will always ignite wonder in his heart.

In the far distance, resting peacefully against a vast starry sky, Earth stares back at him in all her glory. No photograph has ever successfully captured the brutal beauty of that hulking mass of deep greens meshed with delicate blues, overlain by thick swirling clouds and snow-capped mountains. His eyes trace the subtle variety of colours, from deep forest-greens to the industrial greys of vast cityscapes, to the golden hues of sun-battered deserts. The view is ever-changing - ever-turning - and he smiles as his eyes latch onto the more populated areas, bathed in pinpricks of golden light like decorations on a Christmas tree.

It’s impossible to spot England from this distance, tiny as she is and persistently buried beneath swirling clouds. The hulking mass of Africa stretching from equator to pole is visible enough however, and if he squints, he can just about spot the sharp stiletto-heel of Southern Italy. If darkness hasn’t yet fallen back home then it surely will in a matter of hours. He smiles as he imagines amateur astronomers wrapping up warmly in their oversized parkas, dragging themselves and their gear to the peak of the closest hill with the intention of gazing up at the tiny civilization planted on the moon. No doubt he’d have done the same when he was a boy. There’s no specific memory to latch onto, but a vague recollection of glow-in-the-dark stars glued to the ceiling above his bed is assurance enough that he must have made the trek with a cheap telescope of his own once or twice.

Only, back then there’d been no burgeoning society to gaze upon. The only sight that would have greeted his tiny eyes would have been deep untouched valleys carved into endless grey rock.

It’s unclear how long he spends losing himself to the whims of malformed childhood memories, but when the moment is finally broken by a playful finger poking none-too-gently at his temple, Mark leaps out of his skin with a startled curse. The new arrival can’t help but laugh, seemingly glad to have broken the spell that was threatening to consume his friend. While Mark waits for his heart to stop beating a samba in his chest and grips the smooth railing of the balcony with bone-white knuckles, he somehow manages to resist the urge to fire a sharp “Fuck off Jamie!” in the direction of the man who currently has mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Hey,” Jamie says with a gentle smile once his mirth has settled, raising another finger to Mark’s temple and pressing more softly this time. “You gettin' lost in there again?”

He must be, Mark thinks with a sigh as he clenches his eyes shut and tries to anchor himself in the present. Jamie is often a quiet, comforting presence but he’s never that quiet. The fact that Mark had been too lost in his thoughts to notice his approach is likely a sign that he’s long overdue a nap.

Not wanting to concern his friend more than he already has, Mark offers a sincere smile before responding to his question with an evasive, “Hey yourself.”

If Mark is currently coiled like a tight spring, Jamie exudes a level of carefree bliss which is mercifully contagious. In contrast to Mark’s sharp suit – a reliable mask for the guests’ benefit – Jamie has chosen a pair of battered old jeans and a faded white t-shirt. With his long hair tucked lazily behind one ear, he could almost be mistaken for a glorified sixties hippy, albeit Mark doubts he’d appreciate the comparison. He doesn’t need to act like a professional until the hypothetical curtain rises on their evening set, and it appears that the nervous thrill of performing to a new pack of guests couldn’t be further from Jamie’s mind.

The reminder that Mark himself is due to sing with the lads tonight sends a flurry of excitement through his veins. Closing his eyes and letting the music flow through his soul while he sings into the mic has always granted him more contentment than the mundane inner-workings of the hotel ever could.

Taking Mark’s ongoing silence as an invitation, Jamie turns to face the hotel complex, resting his back against the metal railing seemingly without a care for the steep drop on the other side. He doesn’t remain quiet for long, and Mark inwardly braces himself for his friend’s teasing when he spots the formation of a shit-eating grin stretching across his handsome features.

“Amazing what you’ve done with the place, it truly is,” Jamie declares, adopting a ridiculous impersonation of the Transatlantic accent that characterises the vast majority of their clientele. A trained ear can easily spot the Yorkshire twang lurking beneath the pompous act, but he almost sells it. Enough to have Mark straining to hold back a grin at any rate. “I’d wager this is a three-star establishment, easily. Might even push it to four if I’m feeling generous!”

“Oh, stop it!” Mark scoffs, stifling his laughter and bowing his head to conceal the sudden heat flaring in his cheeks. Kudos to Jamie, however, for his antics have the no-doubt desired effect of releasing some tension from his tightly-wound frame, and he glances towards his friend only to spot a victorious grin. This isn’t the first time a similar joke has been made at Mark’s expense. The need for him to sell the hotel to prospective guests has resulted in him having to adopt the role of sleazy businessman on multiple occasions. Doing so has always made him feel gross and he doesn’t particularly like himself when he’s caught up in his act, but his friends seem to find amusement in his alter-ego at least.

It is somewhat reassuring that they’re able to recognise that, despite the vast quantity of masks he regularly adorns, he’s still the shy kid they grew up with underneath it all.

“I don’t like playing salesman,” he admits, not for the first time. “It’s just part of me job description.”

“I know that,” Jamie says without missing a beat, squeezing Mark’s shoulder gently and banishing any remaining tension in the process. “I were only messin’.”

Mark smiles and leans into Jamie’s comforting touch. He knows. Of course he does. It can just be difficult to unwind sometimes; the weight of responsibility seems to crush his spine more often than not, leaving little room for levity. The lads help when they can, but for the most part it feels unfair to drag them into hotel business and burden them with his problems. They agreed to hop onto an entirely new celestial body with him for the opportunity to continue playing as a band, not to get caught up in the internal politics of a company they barely understand.

A low grumble disturbs the air, causing the ground beneath their feet to quiver. Two pairs of eyes are drawn to the illuminated space station as the playboy rocket finally makes its descent, the thrusters sputtering like a broken match as they release one final gasp. A mechanical whine resonates in the distance as intricate machinery clamps onto the ship’s hull, keeping her secure while her passengers – ten in total according to the updated guest list – gather their belongings and prepare to disembark.

This is the moment Mark has been waiting for all morning, whether out of excitement or dread he cannot tell. His time for dawdling has been cut short. In a matter of minutes, he will be forced to make preparations to travel to the space station and greet his new guests upon their arrival. It’s one of many added perks advertised on the hotel’s website; further proof of Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino’s first-class service. Albeit this particular gimmick tends to be reserved only for the richest of guests; those prone to frequenting the suites on the uppermost floors, with transparent ceilings offering an unfiltered view of the stars. Mark can’t remember whose idea it was to have the manager await the guests on disembarkation – certainly not his – but as with a great many details concerning the running of the hotel, he is powerless to refuse his services.

The quickest route to the station is the highway; an elevated road built on steel platforms and sheltered by a curved tunnel, offering a direct means of travel from the station to the hotel while branching side-roads spill onto the town’s quiet streets. No doubt Mark will return that way in a rented limousine rather than his beloved Bentley, but for the outgoing trip he’ll likely elect to walk.

Pre-dating the highway by several years, an underground tunnel lurks in the underbelly of the town, offering direct passage to the Arrivals Lounge of the station. In the fledgling days of the hotel, Mark had found the tunnel unbearably claustrophobic and suffocating, but as more and more people have elected to drive over time, he has learned to enjoy the solitude that comes with wandering through its depths. The sleek, curved interior with tangerine tiles and dark alleys branching in all directions reminds him of the stylish Kubrick movies which headline the hotel’s vintage cinema, and the perpetual brightness offers a closer approximation of daylight than the spotlights surrounding the hotel ever could. The walk will take much longer than a simple car ride would, but he’s well-practiced at this. What with all the fuss regarding interstellar passports and customs, he could twiddle his thumbs for the next half hour and still have time to greet his guests with feigned politeness at the exact moment they rock up to the station’s exit.

His approaching duties don’t seem to be lost on Jamie either as he gestures to the rocket dismissively before remarking, “Guess that’s a couple more audience members for tonight, then?”

A weak smile tugs at Mark’s lips, and one glance at Jamie’s face implies that he’s not particularly keen on the idea of Mark having to dash off so soon either.

“You could come with me, you know,” he offers, though a sinking feeling in his chest is enough to inform him what the response will be long before he hears it. His friends have never much cared for the managerial responsibilities of the hotel, nor have they ever accompanied him to the station. Why on Earth would Jamie agree to come with him now? “I bet you’d butter ‘em all up with your charm.”

Sure enough, Jamie’s handsome face morphs into an expression of scandalised disgust, not unlike the time Mark and Nick dared him to swallow a platter of oysters without gagging.

“Absolutely not!” he insists, as though Mark has just proposed that he leap naked into the pool and subject himself to the delighted ogling of lunching diners and afternoon gamblers alike. “They can be charmed by me guitar-playin' all they like, but that’s all they’re gettin'. I don’t do meet and greets.”

“Cool and mysterious type, eh?” Mark teases with a wink, a warm sense of pride flooding through him as Jamie scoffs at the accusation. “That’s why you’re their favourite you know.”

“Nah, that’s bollocks. They’re just grateful for the distraction from your ugly mug,” Jamie shoots back with a wicked grin, reaching an arm around Mark and pulling him in close like an overbearing older brother.

Rather pathetically, Mark finds himself being so grateful for the human contact that the thought of reprimanding Jamie for his remark doesn’t even cross his mind. Besides, while confidence is hardly his strong suit, he’s had enough proposals from female – and occasionally male – guests to pay a visit to their suites after-hours to know that his ‘mug’ is far from undesirable.

It strikes him as odd that he’s never been inclined to take any of those prospective partners up on their offer. As the only unattached member of his friend group, he technically has free rein to spend his nights with whomever he pleases, and yet he’s consistently elected to sleep in his own bed, alone. Perhaps it’s the impermanence of it all that stops him from indulging in drunken mistakes. One-night stands have rarely appealed to him, and there’s little hope of developing a genuine connection with someone who’ll be returning to a different planet within the week.

That’s not entirely the reason, however. On the rare occasions where he’s been drunk enough to consider an invite fully, his initial emotional reaction has always been one of guilt. The mere thought of inviting a stranger into his bed feels like an unforgivable betrayal. God knows why – he’s sure he would have remembered if he had a sweetheart waiting for him back home – but no degree of logic has ever succeeded in banishing those feelings from his heart. Perhaps he’s simply married to his work, as Matt has often joked, but he’s not sure that explains why he’s prone to feeling so fucking lonely.

“You sure you don’t want to come?” he finds himself asking before he can stop the words from spilling forth, though he doesn’t have the energy to berate himself. He leans further into Jamie’s warm embrace, wondering if the strong arm draped over his shoulder is the only thing keeping his feet on the ground. Without further prompting, Jamie squeezes him a little tighter and Mark’s eyes close in momentary relief.

When he opens them again, he finds that all humour has drained from his friend’s face, only to be replaced with a genuine concern that has guilt gnawing at his bones. There’s no need for him to worry his friends about problems that don’t exist. He’s fine, honestly. It just feels like he isn’t sometimes, and he’s yet to figure out why.

“Sorry mate,” Jamie says finally, sounding like he genuinely means it. An apologetic smile tugs at his lips and Mark returns the gesture with a weak smile of his own which is easier to summon than he expects. “Promised the missus I’d treat her to lunch, and she’ll give me a right bollockin’ if I back out now.”

A spontaneous laugh breaks free from Mark’s chest as he takes a moment to enjoy the mental image of his bandmate being royally admonished by his tiny, yet undeniably formidable wife. If Jamie minds him laughing at his expense, he doesn’t show it, seemingly content to watch as the remaining pressure is lifted off Mark’s shoulders. No doubt it’ll return with a vengeance later, but for now he opts to enjoy this rare moment of lightness; it’s amazing how easily his friends can make him feel human again.

Much as he wishes they could linger here for the rest of time, teasing each other until one of them finally cracks, the minutes tick by relentlessly to the point where neither of them can justify further procrastination. Jamie has his date with his wife to attend to – having finally arranged to judge if the ‘Information Action-Ratio' is truly deserving of four whole stars – and Mark has his appointment with the new arrivals who will no doubt be hoping to collapse onto their beds for an afternoon of beauty-sleep before enjoying the evening’s festivities. Neither party are likely to be happy if kept waiting without good reason.

Jamie draws him into a tight hug before Mark can pull away, and he sinks into it with a sigh. The embrace is broken far too soon, forcing Mark to school his expression into one which does not betray his disappointment when Jamie begins the trek back to the hotel’s interior, seeing him off with a wave and a hurried, “See you at rehearsals, yeah?”

Mark waves back and utters an affirmative which he doubts Jamie hears, before watching him vanish behind a set of automatic doors. And then he’s alone again, with only the overhanging Earth for company. Not for long though; his round trip to the station and back should only take three hours at most, and then he’ll be free to spend time with the lads and rehearse the set for the evening. In a matter of hours he’ll be standing onstage – the only place that truly feels like home – flanked by his closest friends as he sings his heart out to a drunken crowd. Whether the guests approve or not is of no concern to him. So long as he gets the opportunity to lose himself in the music, that’s all that truly matters.

For now, he has other responsibilities however. The present moment is not calling upon him to be the frontman of the hotel’s house-band, but rather the renowned owner and manager of the establishment. It may not be a role he particularly enjoys, but it’s one he’s good at and it would serve him well not to neglect his duties. Formal complaints from guests are thankfully a rarity, but he can’t say he appreciates the bollocking he gets whenever one manages to slip through the cracks. The degree of paperwork alone is horrendous.

Fuelled by a newfound conviction, Mark casts one final glace over the impressive view with a resigned sigh, before tearing himself away from his quiet haven to face the music.

#writing #Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino #simulation theory #Muse #Arctic Monkeys #my fic

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galaxy-realty-chennai · 1 month

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2.5 Acre Industrial Land Sale in Vichur near Manali

2.5 Acre Industrial Land Sale in Vichur near Manali PROPERTY ID NO 1450 Owner Sale Property 2.5 Acre Industrial Land Sale in Vichur near Manali Land Area 2.5 Acres Land Size 120 x 896 Feet 40 Feet Road Industrial zone Suitable for warehouse, industries, container yard Located Near Manali Price 3 Crores per acre Contact Syed Basheer 8681073762 *FOLLOW ME ON SOCIAL MEDIA* WHATSAPP CHAT – https://wa.me/918681073762 More Details Photos pls visit this link👇 https://chennaipropertysale.com/industrial-land-sale-in-vichur-near-manali-2/ #ACRESALE, #INDUSTRY, #LAND, #MANALI

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womanlives · 3 years

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MERCY/RED DEAD.

EIGHTEEN NINETY-EIGHT. Somewhere in the midwest. Industrialization has started to invade the Western frontier, though the land still remains for the most part untamed and wild. So do the people. Gangs ride freely through the hills, too numerous (and dangerous) for the local law enforcement to do anything about. They’re not always friendly, neither. Used to be a gang of women called the Roses. Used to be they ran with a larger gang with brass buckles on their belts. Then the brass buckles locked ‘em up in a church, and burned ‘em all to the ground.

As if the sheriff or the marshal did anything about it. That’s what bounty hunters like Mercy are for. Guns-for-hire, moral and immoral alike. Mercy’s somewhere in the middle, though she’d tell you she’s on the far, far right. Specializing in tracking, stealth, and thievery, she’ll hunt or steal anything if the price is right.

She’s good at it, too. Rumor has it she used to run with a gang herself, way back when. Makes sense, since she seems to know quite a few of their tricks. Rumor also has it she’s got a bitter streak a mile wide. Nobody really gives a shit out here, though, and that’s just the way she likes it. Except she must not be good enough, because whenever she’s at a new saloon, she can’t help but ask the bartender if he’s seen anyone lately. Description’s always the same. Male, her age or a little older, with eyes that are bluer than the sky.

No luck. Oh well. Back to collecting bounties. And pretty horses. And brass buckles, wherever she can find them.

#mercy/red dead.#she is Risen

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givgersnaps · 4 years

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〔 NOAH CENTINEO, 22, MALE 〕╰ THEODORE ALVAREZ just came over half - blood hill . you know , the child of HEPHAESTUS who was claimed 5 years ago ? i've heard chiron say that he is INGENIOUS & VERSATILE , but if you ask the aphrodite kids , they'd say they're MOODY & STANDOFFISH . i'd say they remind me of CALLUSED FINGERS, OIL STAINED JEANS, MESSY BROWN CURLS, CROOKED SMILES, WHOLE-HEARTED LAUGHTER, & SPRAWLED BLUEPRINTS, especially since they're FOR THE NEW CABINS . ( ✎ NICKY , 24 , she/her , est . )

Hi guys! I’m about to message everyone about plotting but I wanted to make sure I got out both f my babies before I did that, and SO, here’s Theo!

Some characters that are similar to Theodore are as follows:

· Zuko from Avatar the Last Airbender (season 4)

· Gordo from Lizzie Mcguirre

· Shawn Hunter from Boy Meets World

name: theodore alvarez

nickname: theo

birthdate: November 29, 1998

zodiac sign: scorpio

gender/pronouns: male - he/him/they

ethnicity: Italian/puerto rican (can thank his great grandparents for that last name)

nationality: american

appearance: noah centineo

height: 5′9″

hometown: kansas city, kansas

demigod abilities: technokinesis, expert builder/mechanic, ability to sense physical traps

cabin # + godly parent: cabin ninte, son of hephaestus

favorite colors: beige, burnt orange

Info/backstory

Kansas City, Kansas. Heard of it? No not Kansas City, Missouri, take yourself onto the highway and drive about five minutes west from there and you’ll hit it. Made up more of large land territories and farming plots, its not as glamorous a “city” as it’s literal neighbor. Which lets face it, isn’t too glamorous at all either. This is where The Alvarez’s live. Having lived there practically her whole life after her parents moved there, Bianca Alvarez had never really left. She had planned to at some point of course, having dreamt of using her love of engineering and computer skills to work in some huge industry in New York or Los Angeles. But of course, not everything could work out exactly as she had wanted them to. Learning things more on her own rather than through a school due to tuition costs and not wanting to risk putting herself into such a large financial debt she managed to learn just about everything she could regarding computers, mechanics (thanks to her father who fixed cars for a living), and pyrotechnics (thanks to a rowdy high school friend).

While working at her part time job at a local dive as a waitress she had been on her way out of her shift when she met Hephaestus, disguised as an ordinary human who was examining under the hood of his car. After approaching him and asking if he needed help, the god had challenged her by saying he was glad she was concerned but that she would likely be of no such help. Spitfire that she was, she confronted him about it and took a look under the hood, fixing the issue he had failed to find sooner. This of course lead to their romance. Hephaestus stuck around long enough to witness her give birth to fraternal twins, a boy and a girl (bring me this connection). No matter how much he longed to stay they both knew well that he wouldn’t be able to.

In the rural area of Kansas, the next generation of Alvarez’s took over the family auto mechanics shop. Bianca doing work mostly for people who new the family, long time customers and such, while her father who due to his heart condition was now in no position to do manual labor kept watch of the shop while she worked. Her mother watching the twins.

Theo loved the shop, when he was little he would ask to be able to join his mother at work, relishing in the moments he was allowed to go along and watch as his mother worked her magic. Of course, it was only later as he watched her work and recognized every piece of machinery and every way to fix the problems at hand that his mother realized that he was the one that could work magic. Of course she waited until he was seventeen to actually let him work on a car with her. After that, jobs were done faster, better, and occasionally he would add things to the cars that his mother didn’t know could be. And so, his mother let his grandfather stay home as she began to do more of the office work, leaving the shop in his more than capable hands.

It was a little over a year after this when he was claimed. His father having heard of his work and having seen just how much attention he had begun to draw to himself. You could say it was a bit more precautionary than anything else.

Theo is very nonchalant, he likes to mind his own business for the most part, not really into gossip and such things like that. He has a huge heart. And with that huge heart comes huge emotions. Meaning he’s very passionate about his family and friends. And romance, oh boy, he’s only ever had one girlfriend after coming to camp and she hurt him deep. His temper takes a bit to show itself but once its out, it’s a literal uncontrolled flame, the boy sees red.

He spends most of his time in the forge and is the go-to guy when you want something fixed or even enhanced, for a price of course. Drachmas are the main currency, but if you can smuggle in his favorite snacks or parts for him, he’s got your back. Gotta love that geeky side to him.

His weapon of choice is a pen which can both transform into a large thor-like hammer as well as an tool he wishes when working.

#ambrosia:intro #[ theo alvarez | biography ]

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principleofplenitude · 4 years

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The intricate synergies of coffee and capitalism form the subtext of the historian Augustine Sedgewick’s thoroughly engrossing first book, Coffeeland: One Man’s Dark Empire and the Making of Our Favorite Drug. At the center of Sedgewick’s narrative is James Hill, an Englishman born in the slums of industrial Manchester in 1871 who, at 18, sailed for Central America to make his fortune. There, he built a coffee dynasty by refashioning the Salvadoran countryside in the image of a Manchester factory. Hill became the head of one of the “Fourteen Families” who controlled the economy and politics of El Salvador for much of the 20th century; at the time of his death, in 1951, his 18 plantations employed some 5,000 people and produced more than 2,000 tons of export-ready coffee beans from more than 2,500 acres of rich soil on the slopes of the Santa Ana volcano. For many years, much of what Hill (or rather his workers) produced ended up in the familiar red tins of Hills Brothers coffee.“What does it mean to be connected to faraway people and places through everyday things?” Sedgewick asks in his early pages. Coffeeland offers a fascinating meditation on that question, by rendering once-obscure lines of connection starkly visible.Filling those cans of Hills Brothers coffee involved a few different forms of brutality. Because growing coffee requires a tremendous amount of labor—for planting, pruning, picking, and processing—a planter’s success depends on finding enough people in the countryside willing to work. The essential question facing any would-be capitalist, as Sedgewick reminds us, has always and ever been “What makes people work?” Chattel slavery had provided a good answer for Brazil’s coffee farmers, but by the time Hill arrived in El Salvador, in 1889, slave labor was no longer an option. A smart and unsentimental businessman, Hill understood that he needed wage labor, lots of it, and as a son of the Manchester slums, he knew that the best answer to the question of what will make a person work was in fact simple: hunger.There was only one problem. Rural Salvadorans, most of whom were Indians called “mozos,” weren’t hungry. Many of them farmed small plots of communally owned land on the volcano, some of the most fertile in the country. This would have to change if El Salvador was to have an export crop. So at the behest of the coffee planters and in the name of “development,” the government launched a program of land privatization, forcing the Indians to either move to more marginal lands or find work on the new coffee plantations. Actually the choice wasn’t initially quite so stark. Even the lands newly planted with coffee still offered plenty of free food for the picking. “Veins of nourishment”—in the form of cashews, guavas, papayas, jocotes, figs, dragon fruits, avocados, mangoes, plantains, tomatoes, and beans—“ran through the coffee monoculture, and wherever there was food, however scant, there was freedom, however fleeting, from work,” Sedgewick writes. The planters’ solution to this “problem”—the problem of nature’s bounty—was to eliminate from the landscape any plant that was not coffee, creating an ever more totalitarian monoculture in which nothing else was permitted to grow. When a chance avocado tree did manage to survive in some overlooked corner, the campesino caught tasting its fruit would be accused of theft and beaten if he was lucky, or shot if he was not. Thus was the concept of private property impressed upon the Indians. In Sedgewick’s words, “What was needed to harness the will of the Salvadoran people to the production of coffee, beyond land privatization, was the plantation’s production of hunger itself.” James Hill did the math and found that workers showed up most promptly and worked most diligently if he paid them partly in cash—15 cents a day for women and double that for men—and partly in food: breakfast and lunch, which consisted of two tortillas topped with as many beans as could be balanced on them. (The local diet became as monotonous as the landscape.) Hill thus transformed thousands of subsistence farmers and foragers into wage laborers, extracting quantities of surplus value that would be the envy of any Manchester factory owner.The whole notion of surplus value of course is Karl Marx’s and, as Sedgewick points out, emerged from Marx and Friedrich Engels’s analysis of industrial capitalism in James Hill’s birthplace. Communism was another Manchester export that found its way to Santa Ana, this one arriving during the Great Depression, when coffee prices collapsed and unemployed coffee workers could no longer eat from the land. It turns out that leftists were also able “to transform hunger into power.” The climax of Sedgewick’s narrative comes in the early 1930s, when thousands of mozos, organized by homegrown Communists who had spent time abroad, rose up against the coffee barons, seizing plantations and occupying town halls.Revolution was afoot, at least until 1932, when the Salvadoran government, again at the behest of the coffee planters, launched a vicious counterinsurgency. Rounding up anyone who looked like an Indian, soldiers herded them into town squares and then opened fire with machine guns. The government’s campaign against the coffee workers came to be known as La Matanza—“The Massacre”—and its memory burns bright in the Salvadoran countryside. When El Salvador erupted for a second time half a century later, the coffee barons were under siege again; James Hill’s grandson, Jaime Hill, was kidnapped by rebels and held for a multimillion-dollar ransom, which the family had no trouble paying.

“Capitalism’s favorite drug” from The Atlantic

#reading list #the atlantic #coffeeland #el salvador #capitalism #production #history #drug #performance

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vikinglanguage · 5 years

Text

625 basic words in Danish

The words themselves are all from this blogpost, so feel free to make your own version in whatever language! (I also might’ve added in a few, ooops)

This post is very very long and will be under a cut. Please keep in mind that I am a human person and there might be some mistakes and typos.

Note: The abbreviations “fk.” and “itk.” indicate grammatical gender, common (fælleskøn, “en”) and neuter (intetkøn, “et”).

Animals dog – hund, fk. cat – kat, fk. fish – fisk, fk. bird – fugl, fk. cow – ko, fk. pig – gris, fk. mouse – mus, fk. horse – hest, fk. wing – vinge, fk. animal – dyr, itk.

Transportation train – tog, itk. plane – fly, itk. · flyvemaskine, fk. · flyver, fk. car – bil, fk. truck – lastbil, fk. bicycle – cykel, fk. bus – bus, fk. boat – båd, fk. ship – skib, itk. tire – hjul, itk. gasoline – benzin, fk. engine – motor, fk. ticket – billet, fk. transportation – transport, fk.

Location city – by, fk. · storby, fk. (lit. “big-city”) house – hus, itk. apartment/flat – lejlighed, fk. street/road – vej, fk. · gade, fk. airport – lufthavn, fk. train station – togstation, fk. bridge – bro, fk. hotel – hotel, itk. restaurant – restaurant, fk. farm – gård, fk. · bondegård, fk. court (of law) – domstol, fk. · (lands-/by-)ret, fk. school – skole, fk. office – kontor, itk. room – værelse, itk. · rum, itk. town – by, fk. · landsby, fk. university – universitet, itk. club – klub, fk. · diskotek, itk. bar – bar, fk. park – park, fk. camp – lejr, fk. store/shop – butik, fk. · forretning, fk. theatre – teater, itk. library – bibliotek, itk. hospital – hospital, itk. · sygehus, itk. church – kirke, fk. market – marked, itk. country (USA, France, etc.) – land, itk. building – bygning, fk. ground – jord, fk. space (outer space) – rummet · det ydre rum bank – bank, fk. location – placering, fk. – lokation, fk.

Clothing hat – hat, fk. dress – kjole, fk. suit – jakkesæt, itk. skirt – nederdel, fk. shirt – skjorte, fk. T-shirt – t-shirt, fk. pants – bukser, fk. pl. (you can say “en buks” if you’re in the fashion industry or weird) shoe – sko, fk. pocket – lomme, fk. coat – frakke, fk. stain – plet, fk. clothing – tøj, itk. pl.

Colours red – rød green – grøn blue – blå yellow – gul brown – brun pink – lyserød · pink orange – orange black – sort white – hvid gray – grå light – lys · lyse- (eg. lyseblå, lysegrøn) dark – mørk · mørke- (see above) colour – farve, fk.

People son – søn, fk. daughter – datter, fk. mother – mor, fk. · moder, fk. (mostly outdated) father – far, fk. – fader, fk. (mostly outdated) parent – forælder, fk. baby – baby, fk. · spædbarn, itk. man – mand, fk. woman – kvinde, fk. brother – bror, fk. · broder, fk. (mostly outdated) sister – søster, fk. sibling – søskende, fk. pl. family – familie, fk. grandfather – bedstefar, fk. · morfar, fk. (maternal grandpa) · farfar, fk. (paternal grandpa) grandmother – bedstemor, fk. · mormor, fk. · farmor, fk. husband – mand, fk. · ægtemand, fk. wife – hustru, fk. · ægtehustru, fk. · viv, fk. · kone, fk. spouse – ægtefælle, fk. king – konge, fk. queen – dronning, fk. president – præsident, fk. neighbour – nabo, fk. · næste, fk. (biblical) boy – dreng, fk. girl – pige, fk. child – barn, itk. adult – voksen, fk. human – menneske, itk. friend – ven, fk. (gender neutral or male) · veninde, fk. (female) victim – offer, itk. player – spiller, fk. fan – fan, fk. crowd – menneskemængde, fk. · publikum, itk. (audience) person – person, fk.

Job teacher – lærer, fk. student – elev, fk. · studerende, fk. lawyer – advokat, fk. doctor – læge, fk. · doktor, fk. patient – patient, fk. waiter – tjener, fk. secretary – sekretær, fk. priest – præst, fk. police – politimand, fk. (male) · politikvinde, fk. (female) army – hær, fk. soldier – soldat, fk. artist – kunstner, fk. author – forfatter, fk. manager – manager, fk. reporter – journalist, fk. · reporter, fk. actor – skuespiller, fk. job – arbejde, itk. · job, itk.

Society religion – religion, fk. heaven – himmel, fk. · Himlen hell – helvede itk. · Helvede death – død, fk. · Døden medicine – medicin, fk. money – penge, pl. dollar – dollar, fk. bill – seddel, fk. · pengeseddel, fk. marriage – ægteskab, itk. wedding – bryllup, itk. team – hold, itk. · team, itk. race – race, fk. ethnicity – etnicitet, fk. sex (the act) – sex, fk. sex (gender)* – køn, itk. murder – mord, itk. prison – fængsel, itk. technology – teknologi, fk. energy – energi, fk. war – krig, fk. peace – fred, fk. attack – angreb, itk. election – valg, itk. magazine – magasin, itk. · blad, itk. newspaper – avis, fk. poison – gift, fk. gun – pistol, fk. sport – sport, fk. race (sport) – løb, itk. exercise – motion, fk. ball – bold, fk. game – spil, itk. · leg, fk. price – pris, fk. contract – kontrakt, fk. drug – stof, itk. sign – skilt, itk. (like a road sign) science – videnskab, fk. God – Gud *I want to make it clear that I do not believe that gender and sex are the same, however they are the same word in Danish

Art band – band, itk. · orkester, itk. (technically orchestra) song – sang, fk. instrument (musical) – instrument, itk. · musikinstrument, itk. music – musik, fk. movie – film, fk. art – kunst, fk.

Beverages coffee – kaffe, fk. tea – te, fk. · the, fk. (unofficial, but very common spelling) wine – vin, fk. beer – øl, fk. juice – juice, fk. · saft, fk. water – vand, itk. milk – mælk, fk. beverage – drik, fk. · drikkevare, fk.

Food egg – æg, itk. cheese – ost, fk. bread – brød, itk. soup – suppe, fk. cake – kage, fk. chicken – kylling, fk. pork – svin, itk. · svinekød, itk. beef – okse, itk. · oksekød, itk. apple – æble, itk. banana – banan, fk. orange – appelsin, fk. lemon – citron, fk. corn – majs, fk. rice – ris, itk. oil – olie, fk. seed – frø, itk. knife – kniv, fk. spoon – ske, fk. fork – gaffel, fk. plate – tallerken, fk. cup – glas, itk. · kop, fk. breakfast – morgenmad, fk. lunch – frokost, fk. dinner – aftensmad, fk. · middag, fk. sugar – sukker, itk. salt – salt, itk. bottle – flaske, fk. food – mad, fk.

Home table – bord, itk. chair – stol, fk. bed – seng, fk. dream – drøm, fk. window – vindue, itk. door – dør, fk. bedroom – soveværelse, itk. kitchen – køkken, itk. bathroom – badeværelse, itk. · toilet, itk. pencil – blyant, fk. pen – kuglepen, fk. · pen, fk. photograph – fotografi, itk. · foto, itk. · billede, itk. soap – sæbe, fk. book – bog, fk. page – side, fk. key – nøgle, fk. paint – maling, fk. letter – brev, itk. note – note, fk. wall – væg, fk. paper – papir, itk. floor – gulv, itk. ceiling – loft, itk. roof – tag, itk. pool – pool, fk. · swimmingpool, fk. · pøl, fk. · svømmepøl, fk. · bassin, itk · svømmebassin, itk. · badebassin, itk. (specifically and inflatable pool) lock – lås, fk. telephone – telefon, fk. garden – have, fk. yard – have, fk. needle – nål, fk. bag – taske, fk. · pose, fk. box – kasse, fk. · boks, fk. gift – gave, fk. card – kort, itk. ring – ring, fk. tool – værktøj, itk.

Electronics clock – ur, itk. lamp – lampe, fk. fan – ventilator, fk. cell phone – mobil, fk · mobiltelefon, fk. network – netværk, itk. computer – computer, fk. · EDB-maskine, fk. (use this if you’re like 80 years old) program (computer) – program, itk. · computerprogram, itk. laptop – bærbar, fk. · bærbar computer, fk. · laptop, fk. screen – skærm, fk. camera – kamera, itk. · fotografiapparat, itk. (again, great if you’re 80) television – fjernsyn, itk. · TV, itk. radio – radio, fk.

Body head – hoved, itk. neck – nakke, fk. · hals, fk, (technically “throat”, but if you’re talking THE ENTIRE neck area you should use hals) face – ansigt, itk. beard – skæg, itk. hair – hår, itk. eye – øje, itk. mouth – mund, fk. lip – læbe, fk. nose – næse, fk. tooth – tand, fk. ear – øre, itk. tear (drop) – tåre, fk. tongue – tunge, fk. back – ryg, fk. toe – tå, fk. finger – finger, fk. foot – food, fk. hand – hånd, fk. leg – ben, itk. arm – arm, fk. shoulder – skulder, fk. heart – hjerte, itk. blood – blod, itk. brain – hjerne, fk. knee – knæ, itk. sweat – sved, fk. disease – sygdom, fk. bone – knogle, fk. · ben, itk. voice – stemme, fk. skin – hud, fk. body – krop, fk.

Nature sea – hav, itk. ocean – hav, itk. · ocean, itk. river – flod, fk. mountain – bjerg, itk. rain – regn, fk. snow – sne, fk. tree – træ, itk. sun – sol, fk. moon – måne, fk. world – verden, fk. Earth – Jorden forest – skov, fk. sky – himmel, fk. plant – plante, fk. wind – vind, fk. soil/earth – jord, fk. flower – blomst, fk. valley – dal, fk. root – rod, fk. lake – sø, fk. star – stjerne, fk. grass – græs, itk. leaf – blad, itk. air – luft, fk. sand – sand, itk. beach – strand, fk. wave – bølge, fk. fire – ild, fk. · bål, itk. (like a bonfire) · brand, fk. (the kind that firefighters put out) ice – is, fk. island – ø, fk. hill – bakke, fk. · høj, fk. heat – varme, fk. · hede, fk. nature – natur, fk.

Materials glass – glas, itk. metal – metal, itk. plastic – plastik, fk. wood – træ, itk. stone – sten, fk. diamond – diamant, fk. clay – ler, itk. dust – støv, itk. gold – guld, itk. copper – kobber, itk. silver – sølv, itk. material – materiale, itk.

Math/Measurements meter – meter, fk. centimeter – centimeter, fk. kilogram – kilo, itk. · kilogram, itk. inch – tomme, fk. foot – fod, fk. pound – pund, itk. half – halv circle – cirkel, fk. square – firkant, fk. · kvadrat, itk. temperature – temperatur, fk. date – dato, fk. weight – vægt, fk. edge – kant, fk. corner – hjørne, itk.

Misc Nouns map – kort, itk. dot – prik, fk. · punktum, itk. (punctuation) consonant – konsonant, fk. vowel – vokal, fk. light – let (weight, adj.) · lys, itk. (illuminating, noun) sound – lyd, fk. yes – ja no – nej piece – stykke, itk. pain – smerte, fk. injury – skade, fk. hole – hul, itk. image – billede, itk. pattern – mønster, itk. noun – navneord, itk. · substantiv, itk. verb – udsagnsord, itk. · verbum, itk. adjective – tillægsord, itk. · adjektiv, itk.

Directions top – top, fk. bottom – bund, fk. side – side, fk. front – forside, fk. · foran back – bagside, fk. · bagved outside – udenfor · udendørs inside – indenfor · indendørs up – op down – ned left – venstre right – højre straight – ligeud · lige north – nord south – syd east – øst west – vest direction – retning

Seasons summer – sommer, fk. spring – forår, itk. winter – vinter, fk. fall – efterår, itk. season – årstid, fk. (of the year) · sæson, fk. (of a show)

Numbers 0 – nul 1 – en · et 2 – to 3 – tre 4 – fire 5 – fem 6 – seks 7 – syv 8 – otte 9 – ni 10 – ti 11 – elleve 12 – tolv 13 – tretten 14 – fjorten 15 – femten 16 – seksten 17 – sytten 18 – atten 19 – nitten 20 – tyve 21 – enogtyve (one-and-twenty) 22 – toogtyve 30 – tredive 31 – enogtredive 32 – toogtredive 40 – fyrre · fyrretyve (outdated**) · firti (only for cheques) 41 – enogfyrre 42 – toogfyrre 50 – halvtreds · halvtredsindstyve (outdated**) · femti (cheques) 51 – enoghalvtreds 52 – tooghalvtreds 60 – tres · tresindstyve (outdated**) · seksti (cheques) 61 – enogtres 62 – toogtres 70 – halvfjerds · halvfjerdsindstyve (outdated**) · syvti (cheques) 71 – enoghalvfjerds 72 – tooghalvfjerds 80 – firs · firsindstyve (outdated**) · otti (cheques) 81 – enogfirs 82 – toogfirs 90 – halvfems · halvfemsindstyve (outdated**) · niti (cheques) 91 – enoghalvfems 92 – tooghalvfems 100 – hundred · hundrede · et hundred(e) 101 – (et) hundred(e) og et 102 – hundred og to 110 – hundred og ti 111 – hundred og elleve 1000 – tusind · tusinde · et tusind(e) 1001 – (et) tusind(e) og en 10000 – ti tusind(e) 100000 – hundred(e) tusind(e) million – million, fk. billion – milliard, fk. 1st – første · 1. (yes, with the “.”) 2nd – anden · 2. 3rd – trejde · 3. 4th – fjerde · 4. 5th – femte · 5. 6th – sjette · 6. 7th – syvende · 7. 8th – ottende · 8. 9th – niende – 9. 10th – tiende – 10. 11th – ellevte – 11. 12th – tolvte – 12. 13th – trettende – 13. 20th – tyvende 21st – enogtyvende 30th – tredivte 40th – fyrrende · fyrretyvende** 50th – halvtresende · halvtresindstyvende** 60th – tresende · tresindstyvende** 70th – halvfjerdsende · halvfjerdsindstyvende* 80th – firsende · firsindstyvende** 90th – halvfemsende · halvfemsindstyvende** 100th – hundrende 1000th – tusinde dozen – dusin, itk. score – snes, fk. number – tal, itk. · nummer, itk. **Frankly, I’ve added a lot (19, oops) of kind of unnecessary ordinal numbers, but I promise they do serve a purpose. While it is outdated to use “fyrretyve” for the cardinal number, it is however not uncommon to use “fyrretyvende” for the ordinal number 40th. If you want to know why Danish numbers are so weird, here’s a post.

Months January – januar*** February – februar March – marts April – april May – maj June – juni July – juli August – august September – september October – oktober November – november December – december ***In Danish months aren’t capitalised. Also if you REALLY want to assign them a gender, all months are fælleskøn.

Days of the week Monday – mandag**** Tuesday – tirsdag Wednesday – onsdag Thursday – torsdag Friday – fredag Saturday – lørdag Sunday – søndag weekday (Monday-Friday) – hverdag, fk. weekend (Saturday-Sunday) – weekend, fk. ****Days aren’t capitalised either. Again, if you’re really into grammatical genders, the days of the week are fælleskøn.

Time year – år, itk. month – måned, fk. week – uge, fk. day – dag, fk. hour – time, fk. minute – minut, itk. second – sekond, itk. morning – morgen, fk. afternoon – eftermiddag, fk. evening – aften, fk. night – nat, fk. time – tid, fk.

Verbs work – arbejde play – spille (things like sports-ball)· lege (kids’ games) walk – gå · spadsere run – løbe · spæne drive – køre fly – flyve swim – svømme go – There’s no direct translation for “go” in Danish. The closest would be “gå”, but that’s not very accurate. stop – stoppe · standse · holde · holde op follow – følge · efterfølge / følge efter think – tænke (the act of thinking) · synes (having an opinion) speak – tale say – sige eat – spise drink – drikke kill – dræbe die – dø smile – smile laugh – grine · le cry – græde buy – købe pay – betale sell – sælge shoot – skyde learn – lære***** jump – hoppe smell – lugte · dufte hear (a sound) – høre listen (music) – høre · lytte til taste – smage touch – røre · berøre see (a bird) – se watch (TV) – se · kigge på kiss – kysse burn – brænde melt – smelte dig – grave explode – eksplodere sit – sidde · sætte sig (sit down) stand – stå · rejse sig (stand up) love – elske pass by – passere · forbipassere cut – skære · klippe (with scissors) fight – kæmpe · slås lie down – lægge sig · lægge sig ned dance – danse sleep – sove wake up – vågne · vågne op sing – sove count – tælle marry – gifte sig pray – bede win – vinde lose – tabe (a game) · miste (losing an object) mix – blande stir – røre · røre rundt · røre rundt i · røre i bend – bøje wash – vaske cook – lave mad · kokkerere open – åbne close – lukke write – skrive call – ringe til · kalde på turn – dreje build – bygge teach – lære***** grow – gro · vokse · dyrke (the act of growing a plant) draw – tegne · trække (like in a lottery) feed – fodre · made catch – gribe throw – kaste clean – gøre rent · rengøre find – finde fall – falde push – skubbe pull – trække carry – bære break – ødelægge (I break the vase) · gå i stykker (the vase breaks) wear – have på hang – hænge shake – ryste · trykke (shake hands) sign – gøre tegn · gøre tegn til · underskrive (with a pen) · skrive under på (with a pen) beat – slå · tæske lift – løfte *****Learn and teach are in fact the same word in Danish, which is why you will often hear Danes say “I will learn you abt. smth.”

Adjectives long – lang short (vs long) – kort tall – høj short (vs tall) – lav wide – bred narrow – smal big/large – stor small/little – lille slow – langsom fast – hurtig hot – varm cold – kold warm – varm cool – kold · kølig · cool (character trait) · sej (character trait) new – ny old – gammel young – ung good – god bad – dårlig · skidt wet – våd dry – tør sick – syg healthy – rask · sund loud – høj quiet – lav happy – glad sad – trist · ked af det beautiful – smuk ugly – grim deaf – døv blind – blind nice – venlig mean – ubehagelig · dum rich – rig poor – fattig thick – tyk thin – tynd expensive – dyr cheap – billig flat – flad curved – kurvet male – mandlig female – kvindelig tight – stram loose – løs high – høj low – lav soft – blød hard – hård deep – dyb shallow – lav · overfladisk · snæver clean – ren dirty – beskidt strong – stærk weak – svag dead – død alive – levende heavy – tung light (vs heavy) – let dark – mørk light (vs dark) – lys nuclear – nuklear famous – berømt · famøs

Pronouns I – jeg you (singular) – du he – han she – hun it – den · det we – vi you (plural) – I (capital i) they – de

#danish #danish language #danish langblr #dansk #dansk sprog #language #langblr #tongueblr #vocab #vocabulary #vocab list #verbs #nouns #adjectives #pronouns #masterpost #long post #original

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littlefeatherr · 6 years

Photo

Prompt fill for @maroucia : Mail-order bride modern AU. In a modern Westeros, the North is much poorer than the South and Sansa is lured by all the riches and temptations of the south and so, she decides to offer herself as a mail-order bride. Of course, she catches Sandor’s eyes who himself has turned to the idea because he hates dating seeing that his face is burned and all, but he still would like to find a wife. Read more below or on AO3 here.

Chapter 1

Settling down with a mug of tea, Sansa needed to take a break from job hunting. Opening her tablet, she decided to indulge her favorite escape: perusing vacation blogs, pretending she was planning a visit to the southern countries of Westeros.

While the south was full of cities bustling with diversity, plenty of jobs to be had for the asking, and mild weather, the north never recovered from the war. And the ten year winter season was a burden itself.

The poor economy denied basic resources for northerners, especially since King Joffrey placed tariffs on all the products exported from there as part of a trade war. In the past year, many industries closed. And families that Sansa had known all her life were moving away.

Since her father passed away five years back, there had been huge financial burdens on the family, and Sansa couldn’t bring herself to leave them. So she settled on a local university to continue her dream of becoming a custom dressmaker.

Bran’s snowboard accident happened not long after; in-home physical therapy and medical bills further strained the family funds. Sansa had to quit school and work two jobs. Since their mother spent her time working and caring for Bran, Arya and Rickon grew wilder by the day. Winter had come with a vengeance for the Starks.

Sleet rattled against the windows, shaking her of her recollections. Gods, what she wouldn’t do to be on a southron beach right now. She was determined to reach her dreams, one way or another. She just needed a plan.

Sansa tapped her finger on the bookmark of her favorite blog. Escape to the warm, sun-kissed beaches of King’s Landing! Sansa wished for nothing more. Life seemed so carefree for the people who lived there. The sight of the wealthy, young, tanned and fit men and women frolicking in the waves sent a pang of envy through her.

Sansa couldn’t remember the last time she had a vacation, could barely remember a time when she felt the effortless contentment in the people smiling back at her through the screen of her tablet.

Eagerly she moved onto the second one. The beautiful shores of Port Lannisport, one of the largest, richest cities of Westeros. Come to visit and see it’s prosperity for yourself!

More beautiful, tanned people, Sansa complained inwardly. This time they were wearing swimsuits that barely covered their most intimate places, enjoying champagne under burgundy and gold cabanas of the exclusive Casterly Rock Club.

Yes, Casterly Rock Club was very elegant, but she would feel too out of place there if they even allowed shabby northerners into the place. Every one of the guests was surgically enhanced and dripping in gold and diamond jewelry.

Swallowing hard, her hand instinctively went to the silver and sapphire direwolf charm at her neck, the last nameday gift she had received from her late father. It was a reminder of better times, and the ones she prayed to the gods were ahead for her. She fingered it while whispering a quick prayer to her father before tapping on the next bookmark.

Shop the opulent Lannisport Outlet Mall, your one-stop destination to luxury! Oh, she would much rather visit there! Ever since she was a little girl, Sansa loved embroidery, sewing, and designer clothing.

The scenes showed happy families laughing while eating southern delicacies, bringing up a bitter lump in her throat. Young people in the latest summer fashions carried designer Dornish leather handbags as they shopped and flirted under a shaded canopy.

Wrinkling her nose, Sansa glanced down at her sweats and ratty sweater. When was the last time she went shopping? Aside from The Wall Mart, there weren’t many places to shop near Winterfell - and none of them fashionable. She would definitely need to do some serious online retail therapy if she ever visited Port Lannisport.

Faintly Sansa could hear her mother speaking to someone. On to the next region, she said to herself as she tucked her feet under her legs.

Visit the rugged hills of the Westerlands, the richest lands in Westeros. A landscape dotted with golden, rolling plains and caves from which gold and silver mines pour forth deep veins in astonishing quantities. Abundant gemstones and precious metals mean lower prices on all your jewelry needs!

With widened eyes, Sansa clicked on the pictures of black fertile fields, apple orchards, Pinot grape vineyards, and Black Mission fig tree groves. Further inland lay dense maple forests that opened up to crystal blue lakes and river rapids, reportedly renowned worldwide for whitewater rafting.

Gemstones of all kinds, gold and silver jewelry, beautiful log homes in the verdant foothills all caught her attention. Oh, she would definitely visit the Westerlands first! The featured delicacies and riches were sensational!

But how could she go? The family barely had enough money to get by; not many opportunities presented themselves as of late. Her gaze fell on a bookmark icon for a mail-order bride broker she had set up months ago. Missandei’s Marriage Brokerage Suite. Let us help you find your perfect match with a beautiful, northern bride of your choosing.

That’s one way to get south. And if I’m chosen, I could put my husband’s fee in a trust for Bran. From what Sansa had seen on the website, Lannisport and King’s Landing was teeming with beautiful women, but the farming areas surrounding them were not heavily populated. The men there depended on agriculture and vacationers for their incomes – jobs that left little time for meeting potential partners.

Her mother’s voice pulled her out of her fantasies - and back to the dreary reality of life. Stern Aunt Lysa was impatiently tapping her foot; Sansa had been so caught up in her musings that she didn’t realize she’d entered the room.

“Sansa, are you daydreaming again? Put down the tablet for a moment, please.”

Her mother had a way of saying “please” that sounded anything but polite, especially when she was about to lecture to one of her children.

No wonder Arya and Bran are nowhere to be found. Suppressing a sigh, Sansa braced herself and turned to face them.

“I cannot understand for the life of me why you haven’t yet settled down with someone and moved out,” Catelyn began. “I was married for four years at your age.”

“Mother-“

“It’s all I can do to keep Winterfell let out, and food on the table for Arya and Rickon, and Bran with all the medical bills, I can’t afford to feed you too.“

“Mother, I know,” Sansa struggled to remain respectful. Ever since she turned eighteen, this had become a well-worn topic between them, and at twenty, Sansa had already said all she had to say on the subject.

Enter Aunt Lysa.

“That is why I started college,” Sansa pulled her mother close, “so I could make real money, not just the little I bring doing housekeeping and selling on Etsy.”

“And what good did it do you? You knew from the start that we could ill afford it, but you were determined to waste what little money your father left you on it.“ Aunt Lysa interjected. "And here you are, squandering your days on that damned tablet!”

Her words stung. “I wanted to help the family by having an actual career. I thought maybe I could open a clothing store and help the local economy, but there aren’t any opportunities here.” Sansa stepped away and wrung her hands.

Exasperated, Aunt Lysa shook her head. “Always with the dreams. Well, it’s time you grew up. Take your educated self south, Miss.”

“I would love to go, but since I, as you say, wasted my money on education, I don’t have a way.”

Aunt Lysa and her mother exchanged a look. "Uncle Petyr lives in King’s Landing in the famed Red Keep and he’s offered to take you in. You could work with his showgirls’ costumes-“

Tears stung Sansa’s eyes, for this, too, was a familiar and unpleasant topic between the three of them.

“No, absolutely not! He’s not my uncle, so I wish you both would stop with that! And they aren’t showgirls, Aunt Lysa, they’re sex workers!”

"Ungrateful child!” Aunt Lysa sputtered. “This family has no better friend than Petyr, especially since your father and Jon both-”

Sansa rolled her eyes.

“Sansa that is just a terrible rumor started by jealous people trying to discredit him.” Catelyn insisted.

“So that’s the official party line he has you two repeating.“

Catelyn gaped at her, but Sansa went on, “He’s always staring at me in the grossest way. Sending me friend requests on my social media. He’s a stalker.“

“Sansa, that’s your college third wave feminism talking! Petyr is old-fashioned, and he’s not about to hide that he’s interested in you. What’s wrong with that?” Aunt Lysa fumed.

“What’s wrong is that I’ve made it clear that I don’t want his attention - and yet he refuses to take no for an answer!” Sansa set her jaw. “If you like him so much, why don’t you go live with him and leave me alone?”

Catelyn pinched Sansa’s arm. “By the gods, Sansa, you can be just as willful as Arya at times!”

She jerked away from her.

“You don’t have many options. So, it’s either go with your Uncle Petyr, young lady, or get in touch with a marriage brokerage.”

“A marriage brokerage? To offer myself as a mail order wife?” Sansa’s nervously considered the possibility. It was an honorable way to find a husband and definitely a good opportunity…

“Petyr offered to do it himself, but I don’t like your attitude, so you just do it on your own!” Aunt Lysa hissed. "Just go on and become a mail order bride on one of those bargain sites and see what kind of monster you end up with!”

“Whoa, wait just a minute - Petyr offered to buy me outright, didn’t he?!” Sansa shouted. “And not just for my sewing skills!”

Catelyn side eyed her. “Don’t be so dramatic.”

“Mother-”

“I married your father as a mail-order bride.” Her mother arched her brow.

Great, another guilt trip.

“And I married your Uncle Jon as one, the Seven rest him.” Aunt Lysa added, even though Sansa had turned her back to her. “You have a duty to your family. It’s time you made good on it.”

“We need the money, Sansa, and there aren’t many prospects up here-“ her mother gestured to the shabby conditions around them, “and Bran and Arya and Rickon need me. What would you have me do?”

“Stop being so selfish, Sansa!” Aunt Lysa shouted.

“Good gods, Aunt Lysa, even the marriage agencies give women the right to choose their husbands!”

Squeezing her eyes shut, Sansa fought to calm her temper and think rationally. Perhaps if I joined up with one of the free sites, I will find a nice man, settle in with him and who knows? Love might follow. It worked out pretty well for my mother. Less so for my aunt.

Biting her lip, Sansa thought it over. Could she really muster up the courage to reach out to a strange man? To be his wife, and share his bed?

Sansa had already looked at a few sites, and they didn’t seem so bad; each one had ways and means to ensure successful matches. The only caveat was the marriage had to be consummated the day of the wedding, and if they didn’t get along by the end of the trial period, Sansa would need to return the money - and to the north.

Excitement and a bit of fear took hold of her, while Sansa’s silence increased her mother’s unease.

“Stop that lip nibbling, Sansa, it’s unladylike and a disgusting habit you picked up from Arya. So what will it be: go stay and work with Uncle Petyr, or become a mail order bride?”

Sansa had so little ownership of her own life since her father died. Yet today she would regain control, snatch it out of thin air, all for herself.

“Fine, Mother, I’m going to do it my way. I’ll meet with a marriage brokerage as soon as possible.”

Without a word, she picked up her tablet and left the room, leaving her mother crying over her ungrateful daughter and her aunt harping on her duty to the family.

#sansan #sansa x sandor #sansa stark #sandor clegane #sansan fanfiction #loong post

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in78weeks-blog · 5 years

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November 23-29: Aruba, Beyond the Beaches

For the most part, all of my trips are meant to help me learn more about people of all backgrounds to better understand my place in this world, and to find out how to use my privilege to share the beauty of cultures with the world. When I go to explore a new place, sometimes I have a good idea of what I’m getting myself into but I try not to have an expectation of what my trip is going to look like.

But when my family and I decided to go to Aruba for our thanksgiving vacation, I was just excited to be escaping the Colorado cold, and I didn’t really know what to expect. I didn’t do too much research about Aruba and figured we would take it one day at a time. It’s a small island anyway, how much could there possibly be to do? Hint: There is surprisingly a lot.

After travelling for over 12 hours, we finally landed in Oranjestad, Aruba and were too exhausted to do anything too adventurous. We picked up our rental car, went to our first hotel, and took a moment to rest. While my mom took a quick nap, my dad and I walked to the beach that was a couple minutes from the hotel.

While adjusting to the sights and warmth of the island, our commentary didn’t stray far from “Wow, I can’t believe we’re actually here.” We wandered back to the hotel, met up with my mom, and ventured toward the southern end of what I would later discover as the “Resort Town”, grabbed an incredibly overpriced meal for dinner, and called it a night. Tomorrow is going to be a great day.

Most people that go to Aruba tend to stay within the 5 mile stretch of beaches and resorts and choose not to venture away from the comforts of their resort. I understand that not everyone likes to be active on vacation and I understand that there is value in relaxation, but I believe that “resort vacations” create more limitations than opportunities for travelers. Though Aruba is a small island, there is so much to do and see, and staying in the confines of a hotel limits that experience.

We began driving down to the south end of the island, and watched the resorts slipped away into the distance, and the buildings began to resemble the homes of the locals, and I was glad to see that the local culture was still alive on this tourism-heavy island. Bright-colored, run-down houses lined the pothole-covered dirt roads, and stray dogs wandered these roads in the midday heat. Parked in front of the houses were cars, trucks and vans with rust damage from the salt water. Our tiny kia picanto, while its crooked license plate, manual locks, and hand crank windows may have been a gesture of humility, stood out with its giant “payless car rental” sticker plastered in the back window.

Our first stop was the Red Anchor that was built in memory of a fallen seaman. After stopping to snap a couple of photos, we continued our drive toward the lighthouse at the southern tip of the island. While I was mindlessly looking out the window and enjoying the Caribbean music on the radio, I realized we were driving by a cemetery. Hundreds of crosses, rock piles, and makeshift plaques filled the grassy field, and after giving the crosses and plaques a closer look, I realized that it was a cemetery for pets.

Our drive up to the Sero Colorado Lighthouse was slow and careful, but I didn’t mind because the landscape was so unique. Never before have I seen cacti and palm trees growing alongside each other along the beach.

We began our journey back into town to grab some lunch. San Nicolas isn’t a popular destination for tourists so yelp and google weren’t very informative about the restaurant options in the area. Because the southern part of the island isn’t well visited, I was hopeful that the restaurants would be more authentic, and more reasonably priced compared to the restaurants in the resort town. Luckily, I was able to find a Caribbean restaurant in downtown San Nicolas so we decided to go there.

While looking over the menu, and having a hard time deciding what to order, a group of locals sat at the table next to us. One of them ordered a seafood curry so I decided to trust the judgement of the locals and order the same. I was not disappointed.

Before heading to our next destination, we decided to walk around downtown to admire the murals that we saw on our drive in. Every street-facing wall was adorned with bright colored murals of all different styles, and the trees and streetlights were covered with holiday decorations, which felt oddly out of place.

While looking to see if there was any bouldering locations on the island, I discovered that there were two “boulder fields” or rock formations on the island, one was called Casibari Rock Formations and the other was called Ayo Rock Formations. There were no formal routes at each of these locations, but it appeared there were decent boulders that would make for some fun challenges.

We decided to head to the Casibari Rock Formations first. I was expecting lots of visitors to such a unique destination, but was surprised when we were the only ones there. As we walked around the boulder field, we found a steep, stone staircase that led up to the top of a hill. It wasn’t until I reached the top of the steps that I realized that this boulder field was located near the center of the island. We were treated with a 360-degree view of the island with a epic view of Sero Hooiberg, or Mount Hooiberg - the lone mountain standing in the middle of the island. I was also surprised at how big the island looked from this viewpoint. I was able to see the beach far off in the distance to the west, but lost the coastline as I moved my eyes toward the north and the south, and I could only see mountains to the east.

I took some time to enjoy the view from the top of the Casibari Rocks. Since arriving here and realizing that tourism was quickly dominating the economy and culture of Aruba, my heart has been unsettled. I love travel because it grants me the opportunity to appreciate God’s creativity through experiencing unique cultures. At the same time, I wrestle with the thought that as a traveler, I am indirectly supporting the tourism industry that has a tendency of disrupting the lifestyle of the local people. I struggle with understanding the balance between celebrating a culture for its uniqueness and filtering my experience through financially focused entities.

I carried these thoughts with me to the top of this hill, and as I looked around, I saw in the distance the seemingly small patch of land dedicated to the resorts. As I turned around and saw the vast land around me that looked untouched by foreign hands, my heart felt more at ease. I walked back down the steps at Casibari with a stronger sense of responsibility for presenting travel destinations and the people of those cultures as honestly as I can, and to reduce my cultural impact as much as I can when I travel to foreign places.

There weren’t any boulders at Casibari Rock that I wanted to climb, so we headed toward our next destination - the Ayo Boulders. Walking along the path through the unique Ayo rock formations, I found a boulder that I recognized from the climbing resources I read online, so I strapped on my climbing shoes and began scouring my way up the side of the rock.

It had been awhile since I had climbed and fear definitely kicked in as I climbed with no protection, but trusting my skill, strength and technique, I was able to send a humble boulder. Climbing back down on the backside of the boulder, we continued to walk among the boulders of the park.

Walking through the boulders, I felt like a kid on a playground. The path led us through dark tunnels, narrow walkways and sketchy steps. We ventured off the path to get a better view of the park and my goofy mom played around on the rocks like a kid. Adopting a new set of scrapes from squeezing through small spaces, we began to wander back to the car.

We wrapped up our night by walking around the resorts, stopping into shops to see if there were any knick-knacks we wanted to bring home. After enjoying an overpriced meal and an overpriced drink, we made our way back to our resort and called it a night. I went to bed excited about the full day of adventure planned for tomorrow at Arikok National Park.

When I was researching things to see in Arikok National Park, the two most popular destinations were Quadrikiri cave and the Conchi Natural Pool. I was determined to go to both of these locations, even if that meant spending the entire day in the park. Since I had put in the most time and effort in researching the national park, my parents gave me the go ahead to plan the day.

After we received our bright orange wristbands, we entered the park and began our very slow drive to the eastern edge of the park. Our low-clearance kia picanto struggled over the 50 storm water runoffs on our way to our first destination, but we eventually made it in one piece. We stopped our car at Boca Prins - a beach with that was sandwiched between two 50-foot cliffs. Watching the waves crash against the cliffs and erupt into a splash of water as the forces of nature collided was awe-inspiring.

We stopped in at the restaurant parking lot where we saw the horrific image of a young man sitting in in the passenger seat of a UTV with a serious chest injury. His white t-shirt was covered in blood and he clenched the left side of his chest, and his facial expressions made it clear he was holding back tears and probably a colorful set of words.

We heard sirens off in the distance so knowing that help was on the way, we continued on to the highly anticipated destination - Quadrikiri Cave.

I saw photos of this cave online while looking into the places to go in the national park and I’ve been excited at an opportunity to take a cool photo here. From the outside, it didn’t look like much, a set of stairs that led up to the entrance of the cave and a sign that depicted a mythological story about the cave’s foundation. We carefully walked up the steep steps to the entrance of the cave, ducked our heads and stepped into the darkness. About 50 feet in front of us was a spotlight from above, but it was just far enough away to keep us from being able to see the ground below our feet. As we approached the light ahead, we walked into a dome like space with a natural skylight that powerfully lit up the room.

We continued deeper into the earth through a dark narrow tunnel into another open space with another pair of skylights that shined down into the middle of the room like a spotlight. We were the only ones in the cave for awhile and the eerie silence was broken only by my mom’s continual reminder that she was afraid of the dark and wanted to leave. We visited one more cave, Fontein cave, which housed some petroglyphs of the native islanders.

Most of the day so far had been in the comfort of our car so we decided to go on a hike. We drove to the north entrance of the park and began our hike to the Conchi Natural Pool. The Conchi Natural Pool is essentially an arc of rocks along the rocky coast that form a convenient pool of water that is somewhat shielded from the rough waters of sea. There are many paths to get to the pool, but due to the aggressively rocky terrain, the only way to reach the pool is by UTV or by foot.

The hike was three miles round trip so with our cameras, and swimsuits in hand, we began to walk. Groups of UTVs drove past us and I could have been jealous of how much faster they would get to the natural pool, but I was happy to be in the sun and stretching my legs.

The Conchi Natural Pool was full of people splashing around and having a good time. At this point in the day, the tide was coming in so the waves were splashing against the rock arc and creating a heavy current in the pool. My mom, who carries a very real fear of swimming, chose against swimming in the rough waters and found a more quiet secluded place to swim instead.

The place we found was on the north side of the beach and had plenty of small shallower pools to splash around in. My dad was experimenting with his new 4K underwater camera while my mom and I splashed and played in the water as if we were kids. After thoroughly enjoying time at the pool, we were ready to take cover from the harsh sunlight. We grabbed our bags and began the 1.5 mile hike back to the car.

People sped by us in their Jeeps as we walked through the hot sun, and I took a moment to ask myself if I felt like I was missing out on a unique experience by not spending the money to rent a Jeep and drive around the trails on the island. After giving it some thought, I didn’t feel like joining a Jeep tour would change the experience I had in visiting Aruba.

When I travel, my goal is to learn about cultures, interact with people, and better understand the human condition and the way God uniquely created human beings. I love outdoor adventures and rugged expeditions, but in this situation, taking a Jeep out to the natural landmarks of the island versus walking to them didn’t make a difference on how much I appreciated them.

My family and I have always been budget travelers with the occasional spendy purchase. We tend to avoid tours and vacation packages and prefer to have the freedom to travel on our own agenda, but we also try not to let our frugality keep us from missing out on special opportunities. Through years of traveling together, we’ve learned to recognize our tendencies of being frugal have become better at gauging which experiences are worth spending money on.

We were sun-kissed, sweaty, and sore so we returned to our hotel, enjoyed a beer, and relaxed by the pool for the rest of the evening.

After several days of active exploration, my parents an I were ready to take some time to relax on the beach. Since we were staying at a resort in the Resort Town, we were minutes away from the beach.

We were walking along the beach to find a place to relax for the morning, and I noticed a section of the beach was blocked off for construction. I unfortunately didn’t realize that the fence was being held up by a concrete block that was hidden under the sand, and slammed my pinky toe into the concrete block.

Breaking my toe wasn’t even the worst part. My mom broke her sandals while we were at the Conchi Natural Pool and was thinking about buying a new pair. As a proud owner of the Chacos Women’s Z1 Sandals, I tried convincing her to that Chacos was the way to go. My dad is a proud owner of Keens and tried convincing her to that Keens were far superior to Chacos. Having broken my toe walking around on the beach in my Chacos, my mom was convinced that Chacos would not be the next sandal she invested in. I was in pain and defeated.

I didn’t read any raving reviews about the Aruba Aloe Factory and Museum so at first, I didn’t think to make the effort to visit it, but since we had the time to do some exploring, we decided to check it out and I am so glad we did.

The tour guide began with an explanation of the benefits of Aloe Vera, its uses cosmetically and medically, and a demonstration of how to harvest the plant. I was impressed with how swiftly the tour guide was able to pull apart the gel from the leaf of the plant and was surprised to hear that at this factory, the harvesting process was done entirely by hand. Our tour guide continued the tour by telling us the history of the Aloe Vera plant on the island of Aruba. The Aloe Vera plant is not native to the island, but after realizing it grew well in the dry and warm climate, Aloe Vera farms and factories began to pop up all around Aruba, becoming the second leading industry on the island after the oil refinery industry.

Since the arrival of the American and European tourism corporations in the 1940s, Aloe Vera farms were driven out of business as hundreds of farms across the island fell to the rapidly growing real estate prices. There are only a handful of Aloe Vera farms remaining in the island, and Aruba Aloe was the largest of them.

The tour guide took us through a incandescent catwalk that looked down into the factory, while explaining the process of harvesting, refining, creating, and bottling up the Aloe Vera cosmetic products. At the conclusion of the tour, we had the opportunity to buy some of the products in their store.

There are 23 houses of worship on the island of Aruba, and majority of them are of the Christian faith. Of those Christian churches, most of them are of the Catholic denomination. Next on our agenda was a visit to the Alta Vista Chapel, one of the Catholic chapels on the island. When I saw a quick review of it online, I wasn’t sure what made this chapel special, but reading up on the history of the church upon our arrival made me realize what made this chapel important among the other churches.

The quaint yellow chapel stood tall at the top of a hill in the middle of a desert landscape with a distant view of the ocean. This chapel was originally built in the 1750s by Venezuelan missionaries, and was recently rebuilt in 1952. This was the chapel where many Aruban natives converted to Christianity, so this place is held close to the hearts of the native peoples.

We saw some hiking trails that lead to the coast, but we had already had a long day of walking and we were afraid that we would run out of sunlight so we decided to move on to the next destination. My mom was curious about a place called “Phillip’s Animal Farm”, so we decided to head in that direction. I wasn’t sure if it was a farm or a zoo, but apparently they had animals there. And I like animals.

We were given a wax bag with treats and carrots, and were told that we could feed any animal EXCEPT the monkeys. Noting that, we walked through the gate and into this mysterious animal farm. As we visited each caged animal, my heart began to break more and more. It was evident that these animals were not happy, and it made me angry that anyone would be able to cage them up like this. We saw all sorts of animals, including ostriches, donkeys, camels, kangaroos, parrots, emus, and ocelots.

We finally reached the monkeys and immediately I could tell that these creatures were not happy to be caged. One of them ran up to cage where I stood, and grabbed the cage bars, looked me in the eye with the saddest expression I had ever seen. I snapped a couple of photos, told the little guy how sorry I was that he had to be caged up and began walking away. As I turned around to start walking away, the little guy began throwing a fit by screaming and waving his arms around like a human child, and when I turned around to face him, he threw a rock directly at my face.

I was in shock. A monkey just him me in the face with a rock.

It took me a moment to process what had just happened, but after a minute or two, the confusion subsided and my heart broke into a million pieces. This poor little punk of a monkey has probably known nothing beyond those four cage walls and is desperate to get out and be free, as he was meant to be.

After a moment, I went back and visited my favorite donkey. I liked him because even if I didn’t have food to give him, he hung out by the fence and let me pet him.

Frustrated at the concept of businesses making money off the suffering of these poor animals, we washed our hands and began to leave the “farm”. Luckily, my dad sparked up a conversation with an employee about what the farm was all about. The employee told us that the farm was owned by a man that deeply cares about animals and took in all of these animals when a zoo closed down on Aruba. Instead of the consequences that would have otherwise fallen on these animals, the owner decided to nurture them back to health and prepare them to be transported either back into their natural habitat or to other zoos if they were too domesticated to be let back into the wild.

Mike was the kind employee that explained all of this to us. We returned to our car and while we were pulling out our GPS to figure out how to get back to the hotel, we heard a knock on our window. Mike had rushed over and asked us if we would be willing to give him a ride to the main street as his car had broken down. My parents were kind enough to let him jump in.

He humbly asked that we drop him off just down the street at the main road, but my parents insisted us take him to his home. While we drove to his home, he asked us where we were from and shared with us a little bit about his background and family. He grew up on the island of Aruba but he doesn’t have too much family here anymore.

He told that most of his family has moved away from the island, his cousins were in the Dominican Republic, and a couple family members moved to the states. He was excitedly telling us that they were going to have a big family reunion sometime in December in the Dominican Republic, but that it’s been difficult being in Aruba without too many of his family members around.

He was so appreciative of us for taking him to his home, and explained that he’s been quite busy lately and hadn’t gotten around to getting his car fixed. He was working full time at the farm, taking night classes, and working a second job on the weekends.

After driving for a solid 10 minutes, we finally got him to where he needed to be. Oh how blessed I am for the life I’ve been granted.

This was our last full day on the island and we only had a couple things left to do. The lighthouse on the south end of the island wasn’t very impressive, but the California lighthouse located on the northern tip of the island was magnificent so we decided to go take a look.

There were big crowds of people coming in and out on tour buses. Most people chose to snap a couple of photos from a distance and hang out around the snacks and souvenir booth. When we approached the door at the base of the lighthouse, we were instructed that we could climb up to the top of the lighthouse for the price of $5. My dad and I excitedly pulled out our wallets, handed the gate keeper our five-dollar bills and opened the door to begin our climb. The inner diameter of the lighthouse was no more than 7 feet and the staircase wound around a concrete post with no handrails. Each step was a little over a foot tall, and on each of the steps there was just enough surface area for the ball of my foot.

The very sketchy climb to the top of the lighthouse was rewarded with a 360-degree view of the northern end of the island. We could see the resort town and golf course to the south west, the mountains of the national park to the south east and the expanse of the ocean to the north.

I found a beach on the map that we hadn’t been to in the southern part of the island near the town of San Nicolas. Though that was a bit of a drive from where we were at, I wanted to find a beach that was less crowded to hang out at so we decided to give it a shot.

It was slightly overcast so the beach was completely empty, so we had the whole beach to ourselves. I was the first to jump into the warm water, but stayed relatively close to shore because there were some sharp rocks further out from shore. My mom decided to join a short while later, and together we floated around and had a good time.

About half an hour after we arrived, another man arrived and joined us in the water. He came and introduced himself - Ferdinand. But his friends call him Ferdi.

He lives a couple blocks away in the town of San Nicolas. He’s retired now, but he used to work in the tourism industry. He’s lived in Aruba for 23 years, and before that, French Guiana, and before that, Suriname. He’s a kind man, and tries to make an effort to reach out to the tourists he sees at this beach. He’s goofy, and tells my mom that he knows a little Japanese. “Ai shiteimasu“, he says. I love you. He laughs, saying he learned how to say "I love you” in many different languages. He lists off those languages. It’s a list too long to remember. My mom jokes back - “you must have many girlfriends around the world“. He laughs.

He has a garden. my parents have a long, drawn out conversation with him about farming and the native plants of the island. My parents are curious about the gardening conditions, what plants grow native here, and why there aren’t any papaya trees in people’s front yards!

I ask Ferdi about the grocery stores. I noticed that all of the grocery stores in Aruba have Chinese names, yet I haven’t seen too many Asian people on this island. Ferdi tells me that the grocery stores have been run by Chinese owners for many years. He’s not sure why, but that’s just how it is.

Ferdi is very knowledgeable about this small part of the world. He loves this island with his whole heart and doesn’t ever see himself living anywhere else. Parts of his life have been challenging and he’s been thrown in a wild loop , but he’s found a home here.

Ferdi had to head back to work on his car, so after giving ourselves some time to dry off in the sun, we drove toward a seafood restaurant in the town of San Nicolas to enjoy a late lunch.

We walked up to a counter with a simple menu - fish of the day, shrimp, corn bead, plantains, tartar sauce. Confused at how we were supposed to order, the young guy at the register explained to us that we pay for the fish by the piece and the shrimp by the weight. Still confused, he showed us how big a piece of fish was, explained that the seafood was battered, seasoned and fried. We ordered two pieces of fish, six shrimps, two plantains, one piece of cornbread and tartar sauce. The total came out to be twenty dollars.

The restaurant was located right on the beach and a dock led out onto the water. At the end of the dock were three tables with umbrellas, so we sit out at one of these tables and eat while enjoying the view of the coastline. While we waited for our food to be prepared, we watched as the chefs skinned, gutted, and de-boned the fish we would soon be eating. The guts and bones went directly overboard into the water and we watched as the seagulls swept into collect their meals and the fish swarmed to get their portion. Even while we were eating our meal, all of our bones and scraps went off the dock and into the beaks if the seagulls or to the hungry fish below our feet.

Right as we left the restaurant, the rain began to pour, but by the time we reached our hotel, the rain had already subsided. Again, we decided to take the evening to rest, and enjoyed our last sunset on the beach. Tropical musical played in the background while the palm trees and waves swayed at a much slower beat. The smell of salt filled my nose as I sat back and watched older couples walking along the beach, hand-in-hand, parents chase down their young ones, and young lovers teasing each other and splashing around the water to finding any excuse to hold each other close.

We had to be at the airport by noon, so we packed up our suitcases and spent our last couple hours lounging on the beach. I put on my swim suit, sunglasses and headphones, and focused on the joyful feeling of having the warmth of the sun against my skin. I would return to the cold climate of Colorado with tan skin, and a rejuvenated spirit.

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