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fluffyunicornofdanger · 5 years

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Rhinestone

A/N: I had this fic in my drafts since forever and I thought I deleted because I didn’t like the way it was going. But I didn’t and I’m so glad because I’m gonna turn this into a series. I’m literally in love with both @waymorecake4me & @rogertaylorsbitontheside for helping me edit. I don’t know what I would do without the two of you. The 3rd part of Living a Little should be out at the end of this week. Fingers crossed that it is. And I’m taking requests, so yeah. You want something, let me know.

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Masterlist

Roger Taylor x Reader

Summary: It’s hard to be a diamond in a rhinestone world. Y/n knows that first hand as she’s had to deal with her boss’s advances for years, with no way to avoid them. But that all changes when a certain blonde bumps into her in the street.

Part 1 of ?

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Sexual harassment, country music (but only as a reference to the title)

*~~~~~*

The club was dancing with life as Y/n walked off the stage, taking a break from her set. Her dress was starting to rub against her skin, causing an itch and the place was starting to take on the horrible smell of cigarettes and sweat, something which she couldn’t stand and causing her nose to scrunch up. She could handle the cigarettes, occasionally smoking one every now and then, but the smoke mixed with body odor was something she couldn’t handle. It made her feel like she was coated in a layer of filth and it always got that way on weekend nights as most people would come in then, beginning to relax after a long week of work. Those same people seemed all to often forget that they brought their hard work in with them and should have stopped at home to take a shower first.

“That was wonderful, just perfect,” the club’s owner, Richard, stated as he tossed an arm around her shoulder. Y/n couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the comment as they walked to the bar. If she were honest, she couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his outfit as well. He looked like someone had dumped a bottle of red glitter on him, for the cuffs and collar of his white jacket were covered with it. His shirt was uglier than hell, with pictures of palm trees and beaches on it. It was like he was trying to be a hippie and a businessman at the same time, which may work with mullets, but most definitely not shirts.

Shoving his arm off her, Y/n flagged down the bartender. “Please can I get a Gin and Tonic, Dale?” she asked approaching the bar before pulling at her dress.

“Sure thing,” she gave the singer an apologetic smile as Richard turned his attention back to her.

“You know-” He caressed her cheek lightly before Y/n swatted his hand away. “-if you’re tired we could go back to my place.”

Y/n gave him a murderous smile as Dale slid her drink in front of her. Wrapping her fingers around the cold glass, she brought it to her lips, turning away from her boss. She would give anything to take off her dress as the material was scratching against her skin. But sleeping with Richard was not one of those things. Once there was sufficient alcohol in her system, she set her drink down and turned back to the man next to her. “As great as that offer sounds, Dick, I’m gonna have to decline. And anyway, I have to finish my set.”

With that, she hopped off the bar stool, drink in hand, and began to weave her way towards her dressing room. Dick wasn’t far behind her as she got stopped by a group of drunks that couldn’t seem to tell the floor from the ceiling.

“We don’t have to go back to my place if you don’t want to,” he whispered in her ear as a man tumbled to the floor before her feet only to be picked up by two of his friends a moment later. The man should have been cut off hours ago, then maybe he wouldn’t have been stumbling around. But that had always been up to Richard, no one ever got cut off, as it would ruin business. His hand trailed down the small of her back, his breath hitting her ear. “Your dressing room isn’t a bad place to shag.”

Y/n shook her head and quickened her pace, as the drunks were picked up off the floor and out of the way. It seemed that no matter how much she declined his advances, and how much she made it clear that she wasn’t interested, he didn’t care. Y/n wasn’t afraid that Richard would do something rash as she knew his ego was too big for something like that instead he believed that he could win women over, and the more challenging they were, the more fun it was for him, therefore, he never saw any point in forcing himself on them like that. He was always up for a challenge.

But whether he would do something like that or not didn’t matter, he still made her uncomfortable. Y/n knew that when in the club, she wasn’t safe from being sought out by him. She knew that once she stepped foot inside, he would find her. It was almost like he could smell her, he was that quick to be at her side. She was never really sure why he chased after her in particular. There were plenty of other women that probably would have given in to his advances a long time ago.

Y/n grasped the handle to her dressing room door as she spun around to see Richard right next to her. “Hard no, Dick,” she said before slamming the door in his face.

*~~~~~*

Like a rhinestone cowboy

Riding out on a horse in a star-spangled rodeo

Like a rhinestone cowboy

Gettin’ card and letters from people I don’t even know

Y/n’s voice faded out as people in the audience started whistling and clapping. When she had first started singing at the club she found it intimidating, but over time she had grown to love it. It made her feel warm and welcome standing above them on stage. She waited for the crowd to die down a little, she wasn’t sure why the song had gotten them all riled up. It was a song from the states that Dick had fallen in love with and insisted on being part of the set. Y/n had no objections as she didn’t mind the song, plus the fact that she was still getting paid to sing it. “Alright now,” she spoke into the mic, gesturing for everyone to calm down. “That’s it for tonight, folks. But we’ll be back tomorrow-” She pointed to the band behind her. “- ready for another set.”

She walked off stage, her silver dress bright against the lights hanging from the ceiling. Like every night, she weaved her way between tables and people, trying not to bump into the waiters and waitresses that were milling around. Richard was nowhere in sight, causing a sigh of relief to escape her lips. That man was hard to handle. No one at the club could stand him with his big ego and sexist attitude. But what were they to do about it? Everyone needed their jobs. Money makes the world go round, and that they could all agree on.

“Y/n,” a voice called from the bar as she tried to pass between a group of regulars to get to the dressing rooms. She turned to the direction of the voice to see a fat man sitting at the bar, martini in hand, gesturing for her to come to him.

Changing directions, she walked up to the bar, a confused look on her face. She had no idea who the man was but at least he wasn’t Dick. “Can I help you?”

The man shook his head, setting his drink down on the surface in front of him. “Oh, no. It’s more like: can I help you?”

This did nothing to ease her confusion.

“I am Grant Marshal. I work for Scottsdale Recording Company in Edinburgh,” he explained, extending his hand. He didn’t need to explain much further. Y/n had heard of the recording company before. They had signed a few bands from London a few years back that had gone on to make it big. Y/n only wished that would happen to her, anything would be better than singing at a club and having to deal with Dick.

She grasped his hand, giving it a firm shake.

“You sounded incredible, darling. Fantastic. So fantastic-” He pulled a rectangular white piece of paper out of his pocket. “-that Mr. Scottsdale wants to sign you.” He handed the piece of paper over to her. Typed on it were the studio’s address and phone number.

Y/n’s breath hitched in her throat. She had been given the same offer many times. Thousands really. But none of those companies, not a single one, compared to Scottsdale. Not when it came to the bands and singers that it signed or to the millions of dollars they brought in every year. Not to mention their recording studios and the grand tours that they put on, or the parties that they threw. Nothing compared to any of that.

“Thank you,” she ran her fingers over the card in her hand.

Grant nodded, reaching for his drink. “Mr. Scotsdale has heard you sing and he would love it if you would come to the studio sometime. Just call and we can set up your travel an-”

Before he could finish, Dick swooped in, coming to stand between Grant and Y/n, throwing an arm over her shoulder. Y/n attempted to brush it off but it was no use. That seemed to be his way of claiming her as his. Like she was his property, simply because she had signed a contract to work for him. And as much as it drove her crazy, there really wasn’t much she could do about it. “What do you want, Richard?”

“No, no, no, no! What have I told you, Grant, about poaching my singers?” Richard asked, a stern tone in his voice, ignoring Y/n’s question.

“She has an amazing voice,” he stated, avoiding the question. “All her potential is going to waste, singing in a place like this,” he gestured to their surroundings.

Richard just shook his head. There was no way he was going to lose another singer. Not to Scottsdale or any other record company. “I’ve told you and Mr. Scottsdale at least a hundred times that she’s in contract. The only place she will sing for the next three years is here. And only here,” he pointed at the ground.

Y/n turned to her boss in confusion as Grant gave up arguing. It was no use anyway as Richard always got his way. She had never heard that Scottsdale Records wanted to sign her. Sure she had gotten offers from other companies, but they weren’t anything too special. They were those companies that sat at the bottom of the barrel. Making money off conning young and dumb musicians. “You’ve known about this, Dick?”

Richard threw the question aside. “So what? You’re in contract.”

“And what would it take to get out of that contract?” she gritted her teeth, her tone getting angry. It was no surprise that he knew about the offers that Scottsdale had made. Out of respect, they probably went to him first, maybe to give him time to look for a new singer. But of course, he hadn’t said a word to her. He wasn’t going to lose his assets over anything. All he cared about was himself and his precious money. His actions had made that pretty apparent.

Dick thought for a moment, shrugging his shoulders. It was quiet between them, Grant having gotten up from the bar and getting lost somewhere in the crowd. He probably didn’t want to have to deal with Dick’s behavior any longer than necessary. Who’d blame him? Dick slid onto a bar stool and turned to his singer. “I’ll make you a deal.”

Y/n nodded, waiting for him to continue. Any deal, anything at all, that could get her out of her contract would be better than singing for him for another three, agonizingly long years.

“I’ll give you three weeks to turn anyone into a singer. They must sing disco only as this is a disco club,” he warned her. “And the audience has to approve of them.” That was going to be hard. Dick seemed to think that he could turn just about anyone into a great singer, which he could never seem to actually do, and let them sing in the club. That never went over well as the audience was hard to please. Y/n was always surprised when one of Dick’s singers made it off the stage without tears running down their face. “If they like ‘em-” He pointed to the people sitting around the stage. “-then you can personally tear your contract in two.”

A huge grin appeared on her face at the thought. She had been in contract for far too long and the thought of tearing that paper in half… Oh, it would be amazing. It would probably be the best moment of her life.

“But,” he started, cutting her from her thoughts. “If you can’t do that, then five years will be added to your contract...”

She nodded. Just having the chance to get out of the contract was worth the risk. She was a good musician, she knew that. Everybody knew that. Clearly, she was good enough for Mr. Scottsdale to want to sign her. So, turning some random person on the street into a disco singer wouldn’t be too hard.

“And you’ll have to sleep with me.”

At those words, her smile fell. There was always something. Knowing Dick, she should have seen that coming. She really should have seen that coming. “Fine.”

Oh, how she wanted to whip the smile that was growing on his face off. She hoped to god she didn’t lose. There was no way in hell she could because there was not a chance that she would sleep with that disgusting ogre of a “man.”

“Alright,” he put his hand on the bar. “Let’s go find this us a singer,” he smiled, seeing how her features changed over what he gained if she lost.

*~~~~*

The two had been outside in the cold, busy London streets in the center of the city for what felt like hours. It had probably only really been thirty minutes, but it was cold and Y/n’s dress was way too short for this kind of weather. Dick had pointed at a couple of people, saying they would do, before Y/n put her two pennies in. Dick seemed to have a knack of picking people that looked worse than the plague. Everyone he pointed at either was smoking something that really didn’t smell like a cigarette or was either far too drunk to even know they were there.

And that didn’t surprise her at all.

Dick was just trying to make things more difficult for her, just like he always did.

“Let’s just go back inside,” she told him, rubbing her hands up and down her arms to create heat as her teeth chattered. It was far past time for her to go home and she had yet to change out of her dress,

He raised a brow. “What about the bet, darling?”

She swatted the air. “Let’s just call the bet off. It’s fucking cold out here.”

“Fine,” he grumbled, the cold was starting to get to him as well. But being the cocky man he was, he would never admit to such a thing. It would be a blow to his masculinity. And naturally, he couldn't have that.

Just as they were about to turn to head back into the club, a body collided with Y/n’s and she tumbled to the ground.

“Great. Just great,” a man’s voice grumbled beside her.

Pushing herself up off the concrete, Y/n tried her best to brush the dirt and grime from her dress. She could feel Dick’s eyes on her as she did so. He would have a fit about it later if there was so much as a tiny stain visible on it. Y/n turned to see a man on the ground, long blonde hair covering his face as he tried to pick up his cigarettes that had scattered everywhere. He mumbled what she thought were a string of curses while collecting the cigarettes.

“Let me help you.”

Y/n bent down and gathered a few up as the man rose to his feet. She straightened, aware that Dick’s eyes were probably trained on one of the last places she wanted them to be.

The man was such a big… well… dick.

“Here,” she gave the man his cigarettes, watching as his baby blue eyes dropped down towards her cleavage. She just couldn’t get away from it even if she were dressed like a damn nun, she’d probably still have the same problem.

“Um…” he took them from her hand, shoving them back into the box. “Thanks.”

Dick patted the man on the shoulder. “This is the one.”

The man gave him a confused look as he was lead inside without another word.

*~~~~~*

The three of them sat around a table, wine set in front of Y/n and Dick, while Roger, the man that they had bumped into outside, held a beer in his hands.

“You want me to sing disco-” Roger looked a Dick, clearly disgusted by the thought. “-so she can get out of her contract?”

Dick nodded.

“Are you joking,” Roger shook his head, with a surprised chuckle, “No way. No way in hell am I doing that. Not for nothing.”

Not only was he unhappy about the dirty cigarettes that now rested in the pack in his pocket, but also by the fact that he was dragged into the club. It was a decent club compared to some of the ones that he played at when Queen was just starting out. But he wasn’t in the mood to be in a club and most definitely not a disco club.

Y/n turned to Dick with pleading eyes. She was one step closer to getting away from the club that had taken over her life. One step closer to maybe making it big. And Dick wouldn’t get anything out of the bet if they couldn’t find someone to agree to do it. They both needed Roger to agree. That was the only way that either of them had a chance of getting what they wanted. “It’s only fair that he gets something out of this.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “What do you want, kid? A lifetime supply of cigarettes?”

Y/n couldn’t help but swat his arm. They… well, she wanted Roger to agree to the bet. She needed him to.

“A car.”

Dick’s jaw dropped and his eyebrows raised as he mouthed, ‘a car.’ He clearly wasn’t looking for that answer. He had thought something along the lines of a trip to somewhere or tickets to see whatever band, but no. The response he got instead was a car.

“Deal. You get a car and I get my contract ripped up if I win,” Y/n extended her hand across the table for the blonde to take. He was hesitant about it at first, but he reached across to shake her hand, nonetheless.

Dick didn’t even argue. He couldn’t. He was the one that asked and there was no way that he could say no. He wanted a challenge. He wanted Y/n to lose at the end. It was only fair to make her work, seeing as how she was the one who wanted to get away from the club after all. And to get away from him.

Roger stood from his chair, chugging the last of his beer. “Well, see ya then.”

Y/n quickly jumped to her feet, “Wait!”

He turned, only a foot from the door as Y/n ran to catch up with him. He wasn’t even that tall but he could clear a room fast. “What?” he asked, a little annoyed. He was just trying to leave, trying to go back to what he was doing before he was knocked to the ground and dragged into a random club.

“You didn’t give me your number or anything,” she informed him. “How am I supposed to call you and set things up if I don’t have your number.”

Roger’s attitude changed at her calm words. He may have not really cared about her bet or her contract, it wasn’t his problem so why would he, but he could see how much it meant to her. She looked desperate and determined to get out of it and it made him feel a little bad for not caring.

“I’ll call you.”

With that he walked to the front doors, swung them open and disappeared behind them, as if he were a ghost. Y/n didn’t know what to think, other than she was going to lose the bet. There was no way that he would be able to call her, he didn’t have her number. He only knew her first name, it wasn’t like a phone book would be of any use. All she could do then, as she kept her eyes on the front door, was wait for his call. In hopes that his possibility of getting a free car would draw him back to her.

*~~~~*

Taglist: @rexorangecouny @sunflower-borhap-boys @rrrogah-tayluhh @itsametaphorbriansblog

(Let me know if any of you wanted to be tagged for this series or put on my permanent tag list)

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bullionstoreseo · 2 years

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nichols47mcdaniel-blog · 5 years

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Investing in precious metals

Humans have developed very fragile and interconnected financial systems to meet these needs. This system relies on precise timing and the continual expansion of financial credit and liquidity. However, once this system reaches a breaking point and collapses, then so will the benefits we have grown accustomed to in our normal lives. This is where alternative money comes into play, and we make gold price predictions using the latest gold and silver news. Investing in precious metals has been used by societies for six thousand years, dating all the way back to Mesopotamia. Gold and silver have been money for the bulk of human civilization for the following main reasons: • they are nearly indestructible • they are attractive and also symbolic of wealth • they are fungible which means they can be divided into smaller units • they are rare and cannot be cheaply reproduced • they can be used for other real purposes beyond money Other uses include jewelry, mirrors, electronics, and medicine. Silver, in particular, is used more today for industrial purposes than it is as money. The industrial demand for silver has caused it to become very precious and rare. Gold as an investment is used more than silver. To understand how we might use precious metals as money in the future, we should first take a look back at the past. In the US, silver was the first ‘dollar’ as declared in the Coinage Act of 1792. Gold was established in the Constitution as money as well. Gold pros know that regular gold and silver coins and bars are made by independent, private mints or large distributors. The most recognizable names include Englehard, Sunshine, Johnson Mathey, Pamp Suisse, RCM, Scottsdale, Valcambi, and APMEX among others. As long as the round or bar is not totally generic, it should be fairly useful as currency in the future. If you feel safer with government minted silver coins, I suggest the Canadian Maple Leaf. The design is simple and gorgeous, and the coins gives off a really attractive luster. The American Silver Eagle may be the most recognized in the States, however. Other notable government silver coins are the Austrian Philharmonic, Mexican Libertads, Great Britain Britannia, and South African Krugerrand.

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goldbarscanada · 2 years

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How to Find Silver Bars for Sale

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thesweetblossoms · 6 years

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A Ship Called Repose

Thoughts on Space

The differences in between living in a big or a small space, impacts the quality of life, the ability to generate ideas, to encumber happiness, to design imaginary or real worlds, and is the three dimensional stage to play out the rapidly flickering scenes in ones life.

It is in our bespoke covens, nests, tree scraping lofts, Connecticut colonials or gargantuan cloud kissing condos, where we find replenishment, sanctuary and respite between the daily hustles, or where we bind ourselves to our sun bleached and white cotton sheeted beds to heal, or where we wander carelessly into the garden to pick roses, dahlias and sunflowers.

Our home is also the location of our most frequently visited chair, in which we lounge to read, or watch film, or to sip tea, to write poetry, or to carelessly surrender to intense reveries. It is our private corner of the world, a well deserved, personal, protected cavern, that we are given fleeting, yet certain time to create; to draw, write, design, research, dance, paint, craft or more.

Perhaps, it is with this knowledge, that I often notice, that the brightest, shimmeringly awakened and unrepentantly positive people, are the ones that are unequivocal determined, focused and hellbent on creating happiness in whatever space that may find themselves dwelling within. They are unopposed to tiny quarters in a hive of a city, with spatial possibilities limited to a single pair of shoes or a lone pot, or they may be unalterably content with a suburban semi detached Spanish colonial townhouse with many rooms and a southwestern sunset facing balcony, or, they may be well aware of their fortune to live in a minuscule Parisian flat with a dainty crystal and tapered candle lit chandelier, black and white marble tiled floors, large silver decanters filled with old garden roses by a plum pink velvet settee and French windows left open to receive bare breezes perfumed with magnolias, or even, they may call a Cadogan Lane London attic room with piles of robin eggs blue linen and gilt edged books, a scraped cherry wood writing desk by the window, a canopy bed, a English tea and Italian coffee station, their home. For as long as we are surrounded by space, often, with a few entities that enhance it, for myself, a blue apothecary vase with a single christening gown white cosmos blossom, a cornflower blue and white striped wool blanket, a Japanese misty blue ceramic cup with Earl Gray tea, a smattering of flickering votive candles, the company of candid palos verdes, date palms, and saguaro, with their slumbering frames, struck by decanting silver, from the mid November waxing gibbous moon that falls like a prayer over the desert. It is a sanctuary.

A Ship Called Repose

I recently learned of an U.S hospital ship named Repose, it is where, the elderly mothers of one my co-workers served as a nurse during the Korean War. The practice of naming ships, is an emotional, elegant and imaginative art. It consists of infusing planks of wood, steel, cotton sails, twine, and netting, with a personality, a thought, a memory, a vision, a dream or an idea. There is a mysterious transmission of energy when one names an inanimate object, imprinting a particular charm, through the names meaning, symbolism or poetic nuances. The way something is addressed, influences its adventures, demeanor and personality, as it sails through treacherous mists, mischievous icebergs, and restless plates under the sea.

Saving A Life

Isn’t it amazing how a friend could save a life? For example, a friend could call up at a random time in the afternoon and ask to meet up to hang out and drink coffee, cajoling one into accepting the invitation at the cost of changing an original plan, only to find out later, that the spontaneous meeting, caused one to be be away at the time of a monstrous and horrific attack at a public venue, thus actually, unknowingly and blessedly, rescuing their friend from a fatality. Of course, friends save one another in less dramatic scenarios; easing and tempering the stings of the everyday, like a balm of aloe upon a burn, they do it perhaps over long years of friendship, from surprise sweet 16 birthday parties at midnight, and continuing the birthday wishes, onto their second marriages, or even through newly introduced sparks of companionship, by sharing novel perspectives, cultures and worlds, or sometimes the level of nurture, is so entrenched it is barely discernible, when the friend contacts you without fail, every few months, to catch up, or to share a happy story, or it could be from a level of safety and confidence, that is the mark of friendships that are taken for granted, like the ones you know exist even if you haven’t seen them in a long time. Friends are our lifelong security blankets, encouraging ones hobbies and artistic pursuits, applauding or supporting ones life’s choices, attempting to provide sound advice on a decision, yet respecting ones actual choices. On a dull Tuesday, a friend could exonerate you from mild depression or blanketing numbness, by inviting your to their wedding, even many years after law school is over, or they could be the graceful omen enroute, coming to meet you at the airport for an afternoon, in Hong Kong during a stopover, to catch up, eat delicious Chinese food, before you fly to Vancouver, or they could saturate your scene with the rich fragments of their own, by inviting you to travel to Cambodia to visit them while they are working at the UN War Crimes tribunal, or it could be a sudden, hurriedly planned meeting at the plaza bar at the Scottsdale Princess, when you find out that they see visiting, from Bangladesh, for a three day, international cotton conference, and you are lucky enough to meet them by a blazing fire, with French 75 cocktails, phenomenal sunset over the desert backdrop, savoring varied conversations, of snippets that color the past, or updates regarding the current happinesses, goals and distractions, or dreams and ideas for the future. I realize that, like much else in reality, friendship manifests in a chain, so that when you save one friends life, you also save another.

Upon A Rocket

I believe that comparison with others steals from our own light. Noticing and tallying others accomplishments is a futile and unnecessary waste of time, acting as a distraction from our successes, fortunes, or individual circumstances. For we seldom understand the true picture of another persons struggles, motivations or habits. We often only see the casual, brilliant and lauded results, as the long effort, the heart ache, the doubts, the resilience or the ability to carry forth despite setbacks are obscured. For very few share the stories of their previous projects that barely made an impact, or the initial forays that left one disheartened, or the lack of traction even after immense numbers of hours and intense energy expanded on an activity. Without these insights, any iteration we observe or are privileged to see from the individuals highly curated, strategically placed and positive tinted news is less meaningful. Unfortunately it is a disturbing facet of human nature to try to inspire envy or jealously in others, as we often feel better about ourselves in context to other people. Yet, when we undertake any activity with an audience in mind, we are negating various rich, complex and nuanced aspects of the scene that is difficult to enjoy as well as show off at the same time. For hardly any picture, conveys the magical, hypnotic and charming qualities of an early morning sunrise, or the dark relief from the first sips of milky coffee, or the way the Sunday afternoon light transfixes and ignites the garden chrysanthemum, cosmos, tuberose, tomatillo and basil blossoms. We never know the denial of extra hours of luscious slumber, the eschewing of dark chocolate and pistachio cake, and the many sets of push ups that a dedicated person may do consistently and regularly to enhance their body image in a pair of designer skinny jeans. The will to persist, to chip away at a goal, to come up with new ways of thinking, to continue at a seemingly thankless task, or pick up again on a project, even though growth seems eons away, is not apparent, for we only see the celebrations, the accolades, the start up venture capital infusions or the news of an highly valued exit. While it is true that some aspects of competition are unfairly stacked, such as the access to capital, or a network of influential people, or the fortuitous luck of being placed upon a rocket that is about to launch off, yet, often the truest successes come from more intricate details, such as ones relentlessness, positivity, endurance, work ethic, clear sighted and undeterred vision. Therefore, rather than stew in any misgivings, or suffer the jaded tinges of envy, we should focus on the moment we have in hand, this precious, often fraught, ridiculously scant, and unfathomably poignant window of time, we realize that we are masters of our reality, that what we see or experience might be just as crazy, brilliant, mystical or awe inspiring if only we would look at it, patiently, clearly, with wonder, in a new way, with every new breath, rather than squandering our thoughts and energies on others.

Immeasurable Songs

There is a calming ritual of sitting with someone and lingering in the tonic of silence, of hearing the soft inhales and the unhurried exhales, secured in a mutual understanding and respect for a respite from conversation, a common affinity to merely sit together, yet in solitude. This level of comfort may arise over many years acquaintance, or sometimes, immediately, when one encounters a similar fan of muted worlds, a kind of understanding of the desire to seek the healing powers of the inaudible realms, or a desire to learn more from the universe sans sound.

Quotation Marks

Words take a special meaning when surrounded with quotation marks. Even the simplest words such as “magic” or “healing” or “love”, for when, these words are heralded and chaperoned by symbolic punctuation marks, these take on a new character, as if they are inexplicably more potent, as they are being used as a reference, that another mind or energy spoke, wrote or thought of them, that they are relevant, mulled, contemplated and considered. Sometimes, the most beautiful thoughts and ideas have already been thought, and repeated again, they take on different nuances, shades of meanings and emotional responses.

Hummingbird Winged

It is the Sunday before thanksgiving, I am sitting in my petite balcony garden after yoga, the approaching midnight sky is the color of spilled indigo ink with distant, snowy clouds streaked like a seven layer chai. The chorus line of palms are at rest after a tender, hummingbird winged, gold nectar and emerald leaf flecked autumn day. Higher among the fading lines of mist, the moon reveals tipsy constellations, it is the aftermath of contented leisure hours, twining with the mysterious, faint visions of the future. Below me, in the quad the floating lunar emanations, remain steadfast, upon the frothing, atmospheric sea, while its cache of silver, traces poems, charms and shadows across the grass, lantana and oak trees rooted beneath. My votive candle’s, fragile, gale tempered filaments, scintillates the dreaming marigolds, sweet alyssum and jasmine plants, engulfing me in a minty, sand edged, bittersweet, hopeful and potent perfume, yet, I feel the sinister edge of darkness, the unwelcoming palos verdes, eucalyptus and mesquite trees, and I pull my thick blanket higher over me.

Walk Through Walls

Darling reader, anything that you find challenging or difficult, instead of lingering on the seemingly impenetrable impediments, tell yourself you see only possibility and accomplishment, turn the obstacles into a heady challenge, savor the strenuous activity, or the long winding, uphill, and peril ridden road, as acknowledging the barriers let’s us see them clearly, while extinguishing them increases our confidence and skill.

Scattering Petals

Why would the universe follow any other rulebook for life? For living entities follow certain, inherent, irrevocable and immutable rules. It is like a flower, after it is planted, it becomes a seedling, it buds, it produces nectar, it makes new seeds, then in dies. But what stage are we at the current moment, within the universe as well as in own animation?

Mermaid Totem

My love for seashells began when my I was a serious, curious and extroverted little girl. The bewitchment carries itself past the invisible channels of palm swept, seaweed sprayed and dune grass steeped memories; of the lavender, peach and marigold painted sea at Coz Bazaar beach on the Bay of Bengal, opening to the Indian Ocean, to the mists and mountains soaring above Hong Kong bay and to the many picnics to the azure, eucalyptus crowned Sydney beaches near our Darling Point home during my childhood years in Australia. But, the obsession cantors past early reminisces, streaming closer to the present moment, from experiencing the sand, flotsam and stone gilted shore at many of the edges, curves, points, coves and angles, where the earth conspires with the sea. These precipices into watery realms, include, Costa Rica, Montauk, Martha’s Vineyard, Bali, Jamaica, Dominican Republic, Marbella, Cassis, Malibu and many more. Yet, currently living in the Arizona desert, the distinct energy of the sea is richly palpable, perhaps as being situated in a land that was once the ocean bed, itself, embedded with copper, quartz, aquamarine, chollas and prickly pear cacti, adds context as well as offers faint hints to the secret, hidden possibilities, undulating unknowns and shaded mysteries of the seemingly bottomless seas. Or perhaps, because, here, between low mountain crested valleys, beneath sea level, I am ruthlessly separated from the waves, denied, even, murmuring laps, from Toronto’s Lake Ontario, Vancouvers Burrard inlet, or Manhattans East River. Therefore, the organic, tender, emotion ridden shells, seem like fragments of my soul, drifting into reality, like a slowly gliding seagull, as a tangible, barely pink, amber, lilac, spotted, striped or shaded objects. These fragile conches, pearl grazed scallops, sand dollars, cockles and junus volute shells leave no sense unturned. They transfix me upon their sight, causing me to pause, breath and notice their indelible energy, or I lift one up like I did as a little girl to my ear, to hear the wondrous rush of my blood, or the sea, for they could be the same, or I’ll stroke a piece, my preferred totem to awaken, for my emblem is unquestionably a rose and a shell, or I’ll lift one to my nose to imbibe the lingering perfume of the obscured, inimitable, hypnotic, salty, mineral and brackish composition, but on moon drunk nights meant for alchemy, enchantment and romance, I may nibble upon a fresh oyster and submerge recklessly, softly and irreversibly into Neptune’s star drowned kingdom.

Palm Fronds

While sipping down my tea hurriedly, eager to rinse, wipe and store my nebulous pink striped Paris cup in the cupboard, in order to move onto the next activity, a chamomile infused realization wanders into my mind, and I recognize how guilty, I am of moving too quickly, risking the passing of chance, predestined, or dream like elements of experience, without grasping its beauty, solace or grace. Yet, sometimes in the rush to seal deals, to create products, to appease the economy, in providing childcare, in nourishing our own homes and bodies, we unknowingly numb ourselves to those charms that linger in a space devoid of velocity. So when we are at leisure, with no motive to create, to work, to think, scheme or organize we might let our consciousness slip into different layered realms that comprise reality; our eyes might see drifts of jeweled pollen falling in a denuded, musical shower, in waves, swirls and pirouettes, laced with the future, infused with wild herb nectar and faraway gypsy songs, while backlit by copper, amber and dewy flecks of the sun, or we might notice the poetic energy, tension and unheard music, surrounding the extinguishing of a candle flame, by a moon swathed November breeze, or we might be reminded that taking a walk and cutting dove white sweet alyssum, prom dress pink snap dragons, palm fronds and a sultry bird of paradise stalk from the apartment grounds is the ideal choice among other more fruitful seeming plans, activities or intentions. Slowing down to arrange flowers, is one of the greatest joys of these often meandering, yet mostly galloping hours. Colluding with blossoms, requires, a level of calm, so as not to shock, insult, or perturb, these subtle characters, our breaths also, must match the identical level as theirs, our minds must be clear, meditative and open to appreciate the haunting loveliness of petalled whorls, the shy cups, or fussy temperaments of botanicals that linger so briefly among us. I enter spaces beyond the present when I handle flowers, perhaps a dimension, beyond or before time. My other concerns drift away, like lilacs in the early spring, while languorously deciding which of my carefully cleaned antique, ceramic and apothecary vases to fill with comfortingly heated water, then, unhurriedly deciding which leaves below the water level to strip, or which flowers to place in the heart of the bouquets, which blooms to add as a supporting cast member, or if a fern leaf is necessary as an alluring accent, next, I am unfazed by larger contexts, rooted to the earth, while considering the scene before me, deciding where to place these flower and water symphonies, by our beds, on the dining table, on the coffee table, consoles, work desk, by the sinks and more. I discover my heart with these collaborative creations with nature, these gathered translations of ecstasy from my garden, or from the terrain whereupon I currently dwell, found on atmospherically charged, romantic hikes in the desert.

My Paris Apartment

If you don’t write down what you want how ever will you get it? For there is a power of self actualization through the craft of embedding words onto a blank page, but it must be balanced with the risk of being presumptuous or arrogant, for in one bewilderingly scant life, we have far too many barriers to achieving all the dreams we might be capable of birthing. But throwing caution to the cascades of drifting clouds, my list of delicately simmering desires, include living and working with my family in Paris, or spending hours painting in a light saturated watercolor botanical studio, or traveling to outer space to see our earth hanging indolently like a drop of opal upon a scrap of ebony velvet, or to play the piano hauntingly at an ancient English country house with views of a mature and exuberant stone walled rose garden, or to eradicate poverty with new financial technologies, or to be able to defy gravity and fly over oceans, deserts, hills, caves and meadows, or to discover an edible wildflower that allows us to travel in time, or to visit hidden, secluded, gem like islands on earth and lazily swim in untainted waters, or to develop theories on consciousness, love, memory, pain and reality, to maybe buy a Bottega Veneta purse, to dance a little bit every day, or to fall deeper in love with the mystery of being alive.

Toronto in November

I returned to Toronto after an absence of nearly a year and a half, during which my memories had matured slightly, yet remained tenuous and raw, lingering in that bittersweet space time continuum of recent experiences, that slightly hazy window of closely trailing past, that appears relentlessly fresh, even though, in actuality, a couple hundred of days have passed so quietly, steadily and unalterably by. I took the train from Union Station passing King Station, the old Toronto neighborhood, where, I had lived for more than two years, the days often beginning with croissants from St Lawrence Market and capped by evening coffee and legal study sessions at the King Edward Hotel. Though my purpose for a late November excursion to Toronto, was to attend a Professional Practice and Conduct course at the Law Society of Ontario, I made use of all my precious free hours to return to a few of the places that had unfailingly enraptured, charmed and inspired me, during my time in one of Canada’s most dynamic cities. I had coffee at Fika Café, before, savoring every second in the the wild, incense smoke enfused, bohemian, gorgeously designed and free spirited ambiance at Kensington Market, I continued a food and wine oriented trip by sipped green tea and dim sum on Spadina, dined upon mesmerizingly evocative Thai food at Sabai Sabai, feasted upon, redolent, scrumptious and creamy mushroom and chicken crepes at Coquette cafe, reacquainted with the much loved and delicious lemongrass beef at Ginger and imbibed delicate coupes of Cava at Constantine at Yorkville. I stayed with my sister who cooked our mothers chicken palif recipe, appropriately substituting cranberries for raisins, medium rare steaks and salmon cakes, and plied me with bottles of sauvignon blanc, wine from nearby Niagara vineyards, and foamy, rich and frothy cappuccinos, she also made breakfast omelettes, parathas and turmeric stained potato bhajis. I also relished engorging the Law Societies tantalizing spread of incredible buttery croissants, clementine danishes, hazelnut tortes, mocha marble cakes and more with foreign barred, future Canadian barristers and solicitors. During, my visit, I also was able to indulge in my beloved Toronto pastime of lingering and reading books at Indigo, relishing the incredible evening downtown energy while, perusing books on floral design, makers and lifestyle. The sartorial elements also shaped my visit to my childhood hometown as I carefully considered and choose from the beautiful and minimal tops and dresses that my sister lent me, experimenting with her aesthetic of clean, modern, and flowy pieces from COS, bright J Crew emerald green cropped pants, Peter Pan collar shirts, a Harvard maroon wool coat, and seal gray suede boots, effectively letting me relive the persona of a Torontonian in multiple overlapping dimensions of dress, culture, food, and other lifestyle categories.

Memories of my visit to Toronto in the attenuating days of 2018, isn’t complete without mentioning the friends I met there, including coffee fueled brunches with apple cake desserts with childhood friends from our navy blue and white school uniform days, or hanging out with old friends from UofT with bubble tea or negronis, to making new friends at the Law Society course while deliberations upon exceedingly difficult, heartbreaking and perplexing conundrums regarding legal confidentially and privilege that lawyers contend with. For each friend, of many moons, or of the latest season, acts as a channel to experience the momentous and unique energy of the particular scene: the present in a prosperous North American city, with early snow, mixing with banana yellow falling leaves, sunset-pink rosebuds enrobed in frost, plant, macrame and old book lined coffee shops, people buying chips and other sundry items at Shopper Drug Mart, fusion cuisine, newly debuted ballets, concerts and basketball games, each frame enriched by the people that comprise the town.

Yoga In The Dark

One of the session in my legal course, mentioned above, dealt with wellness in the legal profession. The speaker delivered an interesting, persuasive and informational speech regarding, not only the resources available for lawyers who are undergoing stress, depression, anxiety, burnout or substance abuse, but also the paramount importance of availing help, advice, counseling or support at times of need, confusion, pain or despair. No matter the line of work we are engaged in, any individual may benefit from learning more about strategies for wellness and how to navigate uncertain, unhappy or turbulent times. Speaking to people about issues helps us to understand our experiences and to consider the elements with altered perspectives, to make the situation clearer for ourselves, to alleviate the burden of carrying ones problems alone, for as the lecturer mentioned, ones own mind can be an exceedingly dangerous place. One may also find a measure of solace in reading about another’s similar experience, such as those who might have survived divorce, a terrorist attack, an earthquake or other shattering calamity. But, beyond recognizing certain patterns in the way that misfortune is meted out, or finding recommendations and sound advice on how to circumnavigate the chilly roads that lay before us, when we discover that people before us have mirrored our sorrows, or fell off a stony precipice of poisonous emotions, have floundered upon unrelenting waves of doubt and uncertainty, or have found themselves in dire rapidly disintegrating sandbars, yet somehow, in some fashion, in the infinite mercy of random tears in the fabric of reality, surmounted and risen above their unsavory circumstances, we realize we are seldom alone in the darkness, and not for very long. Thus, I often seek the kind words endowed to us in the past, those paragraphs, acting as healing lifelines, reminding us to meditate, to drink forget me not ceramic blue cups of chamomile tea, to bathe in the stars unhampered by the third quarter moon, to design a floral arrangement of brilliant orange marigolds in a copper cup, to read about the paintings in The Wallace Collection, to do yoga in a palo santo, sound bathed and houseplant infused room, to make banana, vanilla, cinnamon, almond and kefir smoothies, to sleep and mediate in abundance, to dance a tiny bit every day, to play with children, to allot hours for a carrot seed oil facial, bright manicures and pedicures, and a dry brush followed by homemade rose coconut oil, or to talk walks to collect sprigs of eucalyptus while breathing pure, untainted air.

Tuberose Perfume

When I lean in to imbibe the heavenly, poetic, soft, scintillating, ecstatic, blissful, romantic and haunting perfume of a quietly unfurling tuberose in my petite balcony garden, I linger into a separate, singular, alchemical, hidden and unimaginably gorgeous realm within reality. It is merging of senses, but an exoneration from the barriers of our own, limited human understanding of time and space. For drowning deeper into the stellar performance of a tuberose in the late morning on the first day of December, in the desert, awakens, enlightens and mesmerizes us. We learn about drama, about healing, about the palliatives offered from nature, in its simple, pure, elegant, graceful, sensitive, hypnotic and intelligent spell.

I wish I could offer you the perfume or the tuberose blooming under the waning crescent moon, it is an exceedingly peaceful time and we are lucky.

#design #healing #lifestyle #love #gypsy #style #bohemian #flowers #perfume #wellness

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boldpreciousmetals · 2 years

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Buy Silver 10 oz Scottsdale Patriot Stacker Bar | BOLD Precious Metals

BOLD is very pleased to offer this stunning Scottsdale Patriot Stacker Silver Bar - 10 oz manufactured by Scottsdale Mint for Patriot Metals. Out of the many different types of bars available, this striking bar stands out. A well-known feature of the STACKER® bar series is its distinctive stacking layout.

Silver, gold, and platinum bars have consistently been the most sought-after materials among investors and collectors. There is no doubt in my mind that you will adore this stunning design! Investors might consider these bars if they intend to steadily grow their silver bullion holdings. Silver bars can be kept in a depository or a home safe. Silver bars can be easily stored in a safe or safe deposit box because of their form. As a Scottsdale Authorized Dealer, BOLD Precious Metals is proud to offer some of its products at some of the lowest prices available.

About Scottsdale Patriot Stacker Silver Bar

This stacker bar contains 10 Troy oz of .999 fine silver. The obverse of the bar features the Patriot Metals logo, with inscriptions of weight, fineness, and "In God, We Trust" and the reverse of the bar features a tiny hallmark from Scottsdale that reads, "Made By Scottsdale Mint." The remaining area of the field is covered in a spiraling pattern.

Short History

Scottsdale Mint is the parent company of Patriot Metals. Since 2012, the Mint has begun producing these stacker silver bars and other Patriot Metals products; however, the public cannot purchase these items directly from the mint. Investors who are more concerned with the value and purity of their bars than the designs on the faces are becoming more and more interested in stacker bar designs. The stacker silver bar, one of Patriot Metals' most recent products, is made expressly for stronger, simpler stacking.

Why Should You Buy Scottsdale Patriot Stacker 10 oz Silver Bar From BOLD Precious Metals?

1: Unwavering Trustworthiness.

2: 24X7 Great Customer Service.

3: BOLD has a large unique Inventory.

4: Get the best price on every product.

#ScottsdaleMint #patriotmetals #patriotstacker #silverbar #silverbullion

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firstnationalbullionblog · 4 years

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#buy gold Scottsdale #buy silver bars Scottsdale #buy silver bullion Scottsdale

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philharmonicgoldandsilver · 4 years

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4 of the Best U.S. 100 oz Silver Bar Brand Suppliers

Large silver bars are made by government mints and private mints alike, since consumers and banks both recognize these units as a easy way to store a lot of value in a small space. Central banks prefer 1000 oz silver bars, also called Good Delivery Bars, when moving around assets, but in a pinch 100 oz silver bars will do. Most of these non-government, mega private mints, don’t sell direct; they sell wholesale to gold and silver retailers, and the retailers sell to the public.

Procuring 100 oz silver bars is one of the best ways to get the most metal for your money since, similar to other goods, buying in bulk reduces the premium, or upcharge, paid over the silver spot price. Plus, the bars look really cool. To give you perspective, 100 troy ounces is 6.86 pounds for those of us on the British Imperial System of measurement (what the United States currently uses), not the metric system.

It’s not likely you’ll see a list of best 100 oz silver bar suppliers without mention of Johnson Matthey or Royal Canadian Mint, however both of these respectable makers have their main offices are in London, England and Ottawa, CA, so they aren’t on the list for the good ole’ U.S.A. You’ll also not see Engelhard Corporation. Although loved, the New Jersey company went defunct in 2006. Any bars you may run across are 15 years old or more. On the list below we’ve attempted to recommend mints and/or refiners that are proven. Private mints come and go, but each one of these have been around for decades. Without further ado, here’s our list:

:::Asahi Refining USA:::

This astonishing silver bar was designed and introduced by Asahi Refining USA Inc. Asahi is one of 152 world refineries that makes Good Delivery Bars. Located in Salt Lake City, Utah, Asahi Refining USA Inc. is one of the most highly regarded private mints in the business. Opened in 1989, the qualities of their silver bars are quite unique – they exhibit a diffrerent finish than most bars. They do not sell directly to consumers, but you’ll easily find their bars through the major retailers like a JM Bullion or APMEX.

Asahi has refineries in five countries on three continents: Toronto, Canada, Tokyo, Japan, Mexico City, Mexico, and Santiago, Chile. However, the reason why they made this list is because they have an American refinery in Salt Lake City, Utah. Their refineries service major industries such as: miners, recyclers, bankers, and distributors.

Asahi Refining purchased the gold and silver refining segments of London-based Johnson Matthey in 2014 for $186 million. Refining was just a small part of Johnson Matthey, which is primarily and still involved in the business of manufacturing specialty chemicals and sustainable technologies. The addition of Johnson Matthey’s refining operation helped cement Asahi Refining’s place as a global force of which to be reckoned. Read more about Asahi Refining.

Asahi Refining USA 4601 West 2100 South Salt Lake City, UT 84120

:::Scottsdale Mint:::

Located in Scottsdale, Arizona, Scottsdale Mint is one of the largest privately owned mints in the Southwest. As a private American mint, their main focus is on create heritage and Christian designs. Collectors enjoy their innovative designs trademarked and patented shapes and structures.

Scottsdale Mint has brought back such items like the Bisbee and Tombstone silver bars which is a return to the Old West mining operations and the products put out at that time. The production of these types of themes and others are popular with their customers. Unlike some of the other mints, consumers can buy direct from them on their website.

Scottsdale Mint has trademarked Scottsdale Stacker®. These 100, 10 and even round bars have an innovative contrasting convex and concave striking on the two side which allows them to stack nicely with each other using interlocking edges that make a satisfying “click” noise when positioned correctly. You’ll often see many precious metal and diamond tradeshows in Arizona due to the mines and markets that still exist. Scottsdale Mint is one of my personal favorite silver bar manufactures. Read more about Scottsdale Mint.

Scottsdale Mint 20701 N. Scottsdale Road Suite 107-266 Scottsdale, AZ 85255

:::SilverTowne:::

SilverTowne was founded in 1949 in Winchester, Indiana, by Leon Hendrickson and his wife Ruhama. The rural coin shop eventually would go on to become a thriving national business. In the early 1970s, SilverTowne recognized an opportunity to mint its own proprietary bullion products, as few companies were doing so at the time. In 1973, the company launched SilverTowne Mint. Today, the mint produces hundred of thousands of ounces of fine silver bullion each month.

In 2016, A-Mark Precious Metals acquired a majority stake in SilverTowne Mint. At the same time, the mint entered into an arrangement with Asahi Holdings to be its exclusive source of silver feedstock for minting bullion. SilverTowne’s other businesses, the coin shop and retail website, continue to operate as wholly owned enterprises. We hope to make a trip to Indiana and visit this coin shop some day because their mom and pop shop story is a true American Dream. Read more about SilverTowne.

SilverTowne 120 East Union City Pike Winchester, IN 47394

:::Sunshine Minting, Inc:::

Founded in 1979, the Sunshine Minting offers blanks, branded bullion, and custom order bullion. The mint was recognized by Inc. Magazine in its 2013 Inc 5000 list of the country’s fastest growing companies. In 2012, the company reported revenue of $706.1 million and 52 percent revenue growth over a three-year period. In 2014, Sunshine Minting manufactured 70 million ounces of silver bullion.

The company claims it is the world’s leading precious metal mint products supplier, selling its services to corporations, marketing firms, central banks, government mints, other organizations, and private investors and collectors. The private mint operates manufacturing facilities in two states with it’s main presence in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. They also have a facility in Shanghai, China. Sunshine also has sales offices in Canada, Austria and Argentina.

Sunshine Minting provides vaulted storage of precious metal bullion for customers and other products and services including assay, art and design for custom bullion, extruding, casting, rolling, blanking, coining, colorizing, gold plating and more. Read more about Sunshine Minting.

Sunshine Minting, Inc 750 West Canfield Ave. Coeur d’Alene, Idaho 83815 USA

Keep stackin’!

-Phil Harmonic

https://www.goldandsilver.org/best-100-oz-silver-bar-suppliers/

#silverstacking #silversqueeze

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mubal4 · 5 years

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Some Silver Linings & Things & Stuff

A couple thoughts running through the noggin at this time. To start, I decided on Sunday night that I was no longer going to watch any news and do the best I can to avoid all talk about the coronavirus. Robin, as well as the girls, and those I connect with during the day, will let me know if there is something that I need to be aware of. That is my plan and I am sticking to it. I will be adding content to social media but if it has to do with the virus, moving on!!! 😊

Next, 99% of the content I put out is written added to my manifest (mentioned this before) and from there, I add it to social media. I start of each entry with the date and my current location. The last few weeks have been “Phoenix, AZ” rather than some place I may be traveling. My sense is that this will be the case for the foreseeable future (silver lining 😊).

Hey sports fans – I am sure there are many that are going through withdrawal, especially during this March Madness timing. I’ve gotten texts from friends that they were watching tournament games from decades ago (Michael Jordan’s NCAA Championship game & www.intermatwrestle.com, as well as the Big 10 Network (I think??) are replaying NCAA wrestling matches from years past. More Silver Linings and that is awesome. But the ultimate is ESPN putting ESPN the Ocho back on the air. In some cases, it may have gotten to the point that this will pass as entertainment; it has in our house. On Sunday, I introduced my girls to the Johnsonville Brat Eating contest from 2006 (maybe 2007) and the 2019 Dodgeball championship (“if you can dodge a wrench you can dodge a ball”) – friggen classic and likely an dadfail on that one 😊. My point, another silver lining……. possibly!

A weird scene from this morning. I decided to hit the pavement, rather than the trail this AM and did this 10-mile loop through Scottsdale/Phoenix. It is on a number of main roads (Scottsdale Rd, Bell Rd, Greenway Rd) that on typical Tuesday at 730-8am would be packed with folks getting to work, incredibly empty today. Actually, ran my daughter’s high school too and of course, parking lot was empty except for one car and a dude running the track (props to him 😊). Yeah, it was a bit weird but silver lining, the roads were light and that meant I didn’t have to wait to cross streets since there was no one out. It was a quiet, calm, soothing run with cloudless blue skies, and sunshine a plenty.

There was a part yesterday that did suck, and I am working to get the silver lining out of it; Robin’s parents leaving town. Robin’s mom and dad have been visiting AZ the last two winters for a couple of months. This year, they were set to leave May 1st but because of events they decided to head back to IA. I can understand it, they were renting a place here for a few months and it is more comfortable to be in your own home and have that sense of familiarity. So yesterday afternoon, they came by to drop off a few things from their rental house and food that they wouldn’t take back with them on the drive. The sucky part here was that we didn’t hug goodbye for obvious reasons, but they couldn’t hug their daughter or their granddaughters. That’s tough man!! I get it but still sucks and the right thing to dude considering. The silver lining, they got to spend a few months down here and are getting to go home to their creature comforts of home; what they are familiar with!! Other positives, they gave us a shit ton of steaks, some beers, and the goods to make my mothers-in-law’s rice crispy bars!! (thanks Liz & Gary 😊)

Over the weekend, with the gyms being closed and all, fortunately we kept our weights and bench, we set up a little makeshift gym in our backyard under the patio (benefit of living in AZ but will get nice an toasty in a few months 😊). Yesterday AM I did some strength outside and our youngest was working on her soccer skills and workout and today, our eldest was doing her gymnastics workout that were given to them by their coaches. Pretty cool to see your two teenage daughters putting the work in and adjusting. Felt pretty fulfilled seeing that = silver lining 😊. We are getting to spend a lot of time together as a family and after over a week, haven’t gotten to the point that we are cussing at one another 😊. We have tried to work on having our time individually and that process will continue to evolve but having them here is really awesome. Yesterday afternoon, Robin wanted to go for a hike, so we broke away, the two of us, for a couple of hours. A Tuesday afternoon, with my wife, on the trails, hiking up mountains. What more can I ask for? It was great and what was weird, I guess, but we didn’t talk all that much. Being in the house all this time maybe we ran out of stuff to talk about 😊. We did talk, laughed mostly but there was that sense of calm. I guess I am grateful that I got that chance. My belief is that we will have opportunities to do that and, working to make this part of our new routine. My hope is that we can get the girls out with us a few times!

These times are offering chances for change, the opportunity to find new routines, and the ability to create new activities; or maybe just visit old ones you’ve wanted to experience. And yes, there are things that are certainly surfacing that suck. However, in each of those sucky circumstances, I am finding out there is at least one silver lining!!

#besafe bewell silverlinig createnewshit laugh love shittonofsteaks thingsandstuff

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