#this took me abut 2 hours to draw

[pterribledinosaurdrawings]

washin' dishes

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Thursday 5 April 1838

8 ¼

11 25

fine but dullish morning F39° at 9 20 – not ready in time to breakfast with A- had Cookson and stood sometime talking to her – to try to make me stays and gaiters – breakfast at 9 20 alone (A- with her drawing master Mr. Horner – 2nd drawing in colours) out and in and out in the flower garden in the front of the house with Robert Mann + 5 levelling and attending as yesterday and Tuesday to Mark Hepworths’ carts bringing rubbish from the Northgate hotel courts – the man breaking rubble in the house court as yesterday and Tuesday – and Booths’ man (Amos Ambler) mason making holes for the clothes posts in the laundry court – went 2 or 3 times to A- had Mr. Jubb ¼ hour between 10 and 11 came to see Susan’s sprained ankle – going on well – A- rode off soon after 11 to Landymere, and then crossed the country to her aunts’ [Mixender] mill (called Shaw mill) 21DW. 8 frames upstairs working 4 in a room below standing Mrs.  [Berry] the tenants’ wife said the room was not light enough – 12 frames and a six horse power steam engine the woman said worked to 8 horse power .:. at this rate there is power for 12 frames – came in at 12, and looking about and musing in the hall, and red room, and making out the old original plan of the house for a couple of hours – my ideas seemed to myself more enlightened today than ever before, and perfectly borne out by the charpente of the present building – the hall stood on the 4 large pillars still standing there being no chimney and the present entrance passage being part of the hall – the roof projected or hung over north and south ealing over an outside open gallery to the south and ditto open or closed in? to the north – the 2 gabble ends abutted against each side of the hall each projecting the breadth of the gallery or more beyond the hall a large room a dais or raised part running along the drawing room side? some little while in the west tower – then out again with Robert Mann about cleaning out the farmyard and coach house  court aisances and talking and planning about drains etc. – it began to rain about (just before) noon and continued more or less all the afternoon – sent me in about 3- washed much cousin sat reading from about 3 ½ to 5 ½ (when A- returned rather but much wet – tired) Rhinds elements of geology and from p. 80 to 152 Rhinds’ age of the Earth – A- with me, and then with her speaking to Joseph Mann about putting down a quarry hole at Landymere in the little field adjoining the new road – JM. will do it at 15/. per yard in depth and 6 x 5 ft. dimensions – there will be 6 yards depth of baring – I see that there would be 14 or 15 yards to sink and this and damages to the tenant would be a £30 job – when A- and I have talked of putting Bentley’s quarry road is 15ft. deep against the new road instead of 9ft. as we had thought – this makes a material difference – this JM. thinks would wear itself out in 115 yards length to a level with the present surface of the ground – went into the cellar – 1 Marsala – dinner at 7 5 A- much tired – left her asleep – stole away at 8 10 and came upstairs and till 8 35 wrote all the above of today – then hearing A- ring the bell went downstairs – she had gone into the North parlour and was poorly and tired and slumbering – I had more water to put into the kettle and to make boil and spirit wine for the lamp to call for and coffee to make and all this and skimming over the newspaper took me till we both came upstairs at 10 5 at which hour F41° and rainy night – finish dullish day till near noon – afterwards more or less rainy for the rest of the day and evening – stood reading from p. 152 to 171 Rhinds’ age of the world –

A-‘s ring lost (vide top of p. 133) between 11 am and 6pm today – vid line 15. p. 140

[heloisedaphnebrightmore]

The Unknown - Chapter 22. Pervert [Minho x Reader]

Title: The Unknown - Chapter 22. Pervert  ➔ Chapter 23. Here! Pairing: Minho x Female!Reader Published: 4 June, 2020 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore The Unknown Masterlist | Masterlists

The next few days Minho introduced me to section 1 and 2 this way completing my training. As a last trial, he let me lead as he instructed me which sections he wanted to check out. He was trying to see if I could get from one section to another without going back on to the main path. Even I was proud of how quickly I reacted at his requests. It seemed I started getting comfortable in between the passages.

After a couple of days he even let me go with the other runners. I went with Ben at first, as we did before, then I was coupled up with Will, Jason and last Hank. I started getting along with the guys as I finally wasn't treated differently. I even went out with Thomas for both of our surprise.

It was almost time for the doors to close when Hank and I returned to the Glade, laughing. He was an average looking guy, barely taller than me with brown hair and brown eyes and a very bad sense of humour. He was rather tiring than funny, but it did help the mood when someone felt down.

"Do you want me to list any more of my precious lines?" He asked winking at me.

"I'm begging you, please don't. I already gave up an hour ago." I said half crying, half dying of laughter.

"Okay, just a few more and I will let you live peacefully." He smirked. "Is that a mirror in your pocket?" He asked and I shook my head already preparing myself for some ridiculous answer. "Cause I can see myself in your pants!" There was a few seconds awkward silence between us.

"That was a very bad one." I tried to keep a straight face, but I did start chuckling not long after.

"Okay okay, give me another chance." He scoffed at my response and as he opened his mouth along with a huge grin, I knew I was done for. "My love for you is like diarrhoea." He stopped for a dramatic moment and I frowned at the weird sentence. "I just can't hold it in." I glanced at him with blank eyes for a second, before bursting into laughter and tripping over my own feet. I fell on my stomach, but I rolled around to lay on my back to be able to laugh. I pulled my legs to my stomach to relieve the pain I had from laughter and tripping over.

"I hate you." I screamed jokingly, while trying to get up. He reached for my hand and pulled me up. "Remind me, never to go with you again." I pushed on his shoulder.

"I know, you are secretly enjoying it." He smirked. We almost reached the Map Room's door, when we realised Minho was standing there.

"You seem to be concentrating more on having fun rather than doing your job." He said in a bitter tone and our smiles disappeared in seconds.

"Slim it, Minho." I talked back. "We were just having a laugh. We would all go crazy if we just ran trying to find something that has been hidden for years, don't you think?" I crossed my arms in front of my chest.

"That's exactly the reason why you should concentrate even more." He replied without a change of expression.

"If you want to be boring, then go ahead, but I'm not planning on joining you." I scoffed and walked past him into the Map Room.

"You have guts." Hank chuckled as he closed the door behind himself. "He would have chopped the little me off if it was me." I giggled at his use of words.

"Let me tell you a secret. Girls are privileged, you know? You say we are weaker, but that is not the case. Man are physically stronger and have a better stamina, that might be true, but women are more cunning, more manipulative. They always get what they want. You better learn that." I stuck my tongue out at him.

It took us abut 10 minutes to draw some new passages and changes we have found and we headed to the kitchen. Then I decided to take a shower first and then get some food. I went to my room and picked up some of my clean cloths and a towel and went straight for the steaming hot water.

"Are you here?" I heard Minho's voice and I didn't even know what to do in that situation. I was stunned at his bravery. I was about to attack him for walking in while I was having a shower, but then I realised a naked woman running to a man, might not be the best of the options at hand.

"Yes?" It sounded more like a question.

"Can we talk?" He continued and I wasn't sure if he was plain dumb or he was doing it on purpose.

"I'm having a shower. So I'm assuming it can wait." I said with an ironic tone.

"I'm good." He said and I just felt the grin on his face without looking at him.

"I'm not." I hissed.

"I don't mind." He replied.

"You are very clearly getting on my nervous." I said while peeped my head out of the shower curtain, hiding the rest of my body. "Would you mind leaving, please?" I looked straight into his dark eyes.

"I would." He grinned at the sight of me.

"Minho, I'm asking you the last time. Get your ass out of here." I hissed. I felt every effort of mine was ineffective. His grin just grew bigger.

"What will you do if I don't?" He walked closer. I went back into the shower and closed the water. I wrapped the towel around my body, only showing my lower body from mid-thigh and opened the curtain. I took my boots that were placed in front of the curtain indicating someone was inside - most definitely me - and I threw one at him.

"I will torture you." I said fuming at him.

"With that sight, I'm only getting enjoyment out of it." He chuckled.

"You pervert!" I shouted at him throwing the other pair of the boots at him. He started running away and I was about to follow him, but then I remembered my state and walked back behind the curtain to dress up. I barely dried myself, I just wanted to catch that idiot.

I got out of the shower and started looking for Minho.

"Get back here you shuck-face." I screamed. I was walking around in bare foot and I felt everything from stones to dirt under my feet. "I will personally carve your eyes out."

"Uhh... you changed." He smirked but was acting as if he was disappointed. "I preferred your previous look."

"You are dead meat!" I ran after him. "Give me my boots back, you pervert." I screamed and some of the guys came out of the kitchen. "I will cut you into pieces while you are still breathing and will force Frypan to make a stew out of you. Give me my boots back." I screamed and as I was getting closer I jumped and threw myself at him. I landed right on top of his back as he fell on to the ground. I took my boots from his hand and held them up in the air. "Who's the winner, slinthead?!" I grinned and was about to stand up, when he moved under me holding onto my thighs and making me drop my shoes and grab onto his neck. "Put me down!" I hit his shoulder as he stood up.

"Don't wanna." He replied ignorantly and started leaning back, pretending to drop me.

"Don't you dare! You are playing with fire, Minho." I grabbed his neck from the front trying to make him faint. But I wasn't a professional. I didn't even know what I was doing.

"Can't you feel how scared I am? I'm so terrified of you." He joked, but I just ignored him and started hitting his back.

"Put me down you slinthead shuck-face!" I screamed, but he didn't give a klunk. "Put me down before I'll do something I'll regret." I warned him quietly, but he just grinned without a care in the world. I leaned closer to his ear, brushing it with my lips.

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don’t forget to like the chapter. Thank you :)

[hangonimevolving]

Inside Out and Upside Downs

Hi all.  Thought I’d update on various and sundry agenda items going on in my life.  Never a dull moment ‘round here.

HEALTH

Firstly, let’s talk about my innards.  There’s been a whole lot of activity going on with regard to my innards of late.  Thanks to the excitement of my Disney flu adventure and my New Years ICU party, I am now the subject of a great deal of medical speculation and attention, from a variety of parties.  I have a standing weekly blood draw and appointment on Thursdays with my hematologist (fancy word for blood doctor) to monitor my platelet levels, and other misc blood-related information that concerns immunoglobulins and weird, mysterious things like that.  I have had two appointments, as well as a momma-jomma lab workup, with a rheumatologist (fancy word for doctor who specializes in autoimmune issues).  I’ve had an appointment to set up care with a brand-new-to-me primary care physician.  And in the middle of all of this, I decided that since I’m going to be in/around the hospital so frequently, I might as well do a short course of physical therapy for my ankle - I never got around to doing it, so now is the time.  So that’s a recurring weekly appointment on Tuesdays.  I’ve also got random other crap, like a random head MRI happening tomorrow, and I’m sure there will be random tests, scans, and studies that random doctors will order at random times, and I’ll have to fit it into the schedule.  I am being thoroughly examined, inside out.  And with all of these medical opinions, appointments, tests and what not - in the last 24 days, there has been NO concrete diagnosis or evidence about why this whole thing actually happened.  There are several theories, the two most likely of which are a) I have an autoimmune disorder.  Well, we already know I have one autoimmune disorder (a not-so-bad one, called Graves Disease/hyperthyroidism, which I was first diagnosed with in 2006, and which involves your own body perceiving your own thyroid gland as a foreign object, and attacking it with antibodies).  But now there is some evidence that I may have a second one, possibly a more problematic one, that is causing my immune system to overreact to normal viruses and things, and go on self-destructive rampages against my own platelets.  Dumbass immune system.  Now, what IS this second autoimmune disorder?  THAT we don’t know.  Because, the rheumatologist ran that momma-jomma test I was telling you about, and all that showed up is this one value called a positive ANA test which indicated “daaamn, there’s something f%^ed going on in this lady’s immune system!”  It was a very high positive result.  But, the specific tests to identify antibodies for known issues like lupus, rheumatoid arthritis, etc. were all negative at this time.  So.  To be continued with that whole theory..... 

Then there is theory #2, which is b) maybe this whole thing really WAS just the flu.  Maybe the strain of virus I got was really bad, and it resulted in such a pronounced war that it just took a toll.  Dunno.

Anyway.  We’ll obviously be following this medical mystery with my innards closely the next few weeks.  Oh, and one more thing: so my platelet levels are sorta trending down.  At hospital discharge, I was at like 313K, then the next week it was like 250K, then 180K, and yesterday, 146K.  They’re going to keep monitoring, and the hope is that the downtrend will plateau at some point (preferably above 30K), and then it will start to climb up when my own bone marrow gets its shit together and starts producing new platelets.  If that doesn’t happen - I’m looking at more IVIG infusion treatments.  So let’s see how it all goes down.

WORK

A second area of activity has been my job!  The spring semester at Uuuu! started on January 13, and I am teaching two courses this time around, for the first time since 2016.  I am teaching my studio dance course, per usual, but I also agreed to a late plea for help from my former department to teach a lecture/discussion course that I’ve taught jillions of times before, but haven’t done in about four years.  It feels good to be back in classroom teaching mode.  The course meets three times a week, on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.  So I’m quite busy, leaving the house around 8 am to drop the kids off at school, then getting back behind the wheel and making the hour-long drive to campus, arriving by about 9:30 am and teaching my two courses back to back.  I have a big huge hike between my classes too, because they’re on opposite sides of campus, so by the time I’m done teaching, it’s about 12:20 and then I have this big long hike back to my car, then the drive back home, and I arrive around 1:30 pm.  I grab a bite to eat, then at 2:45 its time to get the kids.  Then three days a week, they have their extracurricular activities after school, so I’m shuttling them to those things.  Then Tuesdays and Thursdays, all my medical appointments, which have been taking the majority of my mornings and early afternoons.  Phew!  This is all a far cry from about a year ago, when I had several mornings a week to go for a long run, either in my neighborhood or at the local state park, and I was training intensely twice a week with my Spartan SGX coach.  I’ve had to seriously curtail my working out - I took a spill on my first run following the hospitalization, and the entire family freaked out about my putting myself at a bleed risk if I were to fall, bump myself, or otherwise get an injury, even a minor one, while exercising.  This has been a huge crimp in my style, not working out - and if I weren't so busy with teaching, I think it would seriously depress me.  But I keep telling myself its only temporary, and soon we’ll have some answers to my situation, and I”ll be able to get back into it.  Till then, I’m trying to get back into meal prep and eating clean, and doing some mild exercise like light jogs and walks, light weight training, etc.  

ADULTING

My mention of weight training is perhaps a segue to this next update, which I’ll keep brief and annoyingly vague.  I am going through some painful adulting right now, that makes some moments feel like I’m being swallowed up by a tsunami.  I’m gonna survive... but, yeah.  I’m wading in the flood right now.  

Okay, now for some miscellaneous updates.  Mainly so I can post some pictures.  This has been very text-heavy for my tastes.

MISC

On the topic of clean eating..... did you know that both papaya and pomegranate are natural platelet boosters?  Supposedly.  I’ve been doing a lot of research on foods and other natural ways to help boost my platelet production, and these were the top two foods that were consistently mentioned on platelet disorders blogs and forums.  I confess I’m not a big fan of these fruits - but I’ve tried to put my tastebuds aside, and incorporate them into every day.  Happily, papayas are widely available in the Miami area year-round. 

I’ve handled the pomegranate thing by buying 100% pomegranate juice, and making cocktails of pomegranate + papaya juice (which is papaya pulp mixed in pear juice).

On the topic of foods and eating well - here is my guilty indulgence of late.  I ADOOOOORE ramen bowls.  ADORE.  And I know they are the opposite of low-carb and healthy.... but I have been making a ton of them at home lately.  I try to make them as healthy as I can, by 1) only using half of the ramen spice packet that comes with the noodles - this cuts the sodium to a tolerable amount (plus I drink lots of water), 2) I sautée minced garlic + approximately one full cup of shiitake mushrooms + approximately 1.5 full cups of baby spinach leaves in a dash of olive oil, and add to every bowl I make (mushrooms are full of B-vitamins and, alongside garlic, are huge immunity boosters, and spinach is full of iron and calcium, and is a good thing for me to be eating to make my blood sort itself out) , and 3) I often either crack an egg over the entire boiling mixture right at the end, or I add in sliced hard-boiled egg for extra folate and protein.  And I sometimes add in a handful of raw shredded carrots right at the end, for a little crunch, color, fiber, and beta carotene.  I *think* that I’m doing my best to make this indulgence food a little healthier, and tailored to my specific medical situation.

Soup has been a huge craving of late, because we had a surprising cold spell in Miami.  It got down to 39F day before yesterday!  That’s probably the coldest its ever been since we moved to Florida.

Afternoon snuggle time was especially snuggly - Dey and I were huddled for warmth!

My ability to run and work out at a high intensity may be somewhat muted at the moment, and this has been sort of a hard mental adjustment for me.  But I am trying to get outside and do things, because it makes me feel better, and also I imagine the vitamin D is good for me.  The other day, I was feeling pretty dumpy and blah - so I did something that for some reason I’d been putting off, “saving” for a special occasion, whatever.  I cut the tags off of a brand-new Spartan licensed active top that I’d purchased on Cyber Monday, put it on, and went for a light 2-mile jog in the neighborhood.  I felt silly in a way of making a big thing of it in my head - but the truth is, it lifted my spirits.

What else... Oh, this was exciting!  GUESS WHAT, dudes.  On Monday, I saw a real live MANATEE in the lake behind our house!  I could hardly believe my eyes.  A neighbor had reported on our community WhatsApp group just the day before seeing a manatee from her backyard.  She posted a picture of it, which I am shamelessly going to post here.  The manatee I saw, about 24 hours later, was different - it was considerably smaller than this one, I think probably a juvenile (not quite a baby, but definitely not humongous like this one).  But it was swimming slowly near the sea wall that abuts our backyard, munching on some sea grass just like this big manatee.  I did my best to run into the house and call the kids to come out as quietly as they could to see it - I think they caught a tiny glimpse, but our footsteps must have spooked it, because it definitely swam away quickly.  I hope we’ll see it again!

Photographic evidence that we are LEGIT Floridians who hang out with manatees :)

Last but not least - on the topic of water creatures, gotta give a shout-out to my Vev, who “leveled up” at his swimming lessons this week to Junior Swim Team!  The swim school has about 10 levels through which kids have to work to get to this point, and in the last ~18 months, Vev has completed them all.  I was somewhat nostalgic and verklempt when he got his ribbon this time - I feel like it was only yesterday that we took him to swimming school for the first time, where he screamed bloody murder and cried the entire duration of his 25 minute assessment, clinging desperately to his teacher and feeling panicky about letting go in the water.  How far he’s come!

(by the way, Dey is also doing wonderfully at swimming, and is only like 1.5 levels away from his own Junior Swim Team ribbon).  

So some of my life is inside out and upside down right now, it is true.  But some of it is Upside-Up.  I work hard EVERY day to focus on the Upside-Up, and what a treat it is to see.  These kids, the sunshine I get to enjoy here, the afternoon snuggle times, delicious food that also is good for me.... net balance is that life is good, I’m still alive and kicking, and everything is gonna work out fine.

Toodles!

[iraniq]

Just kids’ stuff

planned part one: https://iraniq.tumblr.com/post/167766473412/united

unplanned part two: https://iraniq.tumblr.com/post/182277422122/avalanche

definetly haven’t even thought abut it part tree:*read below* 

4:43

Daniel crying like it's the end of the world. Empty bed, since El, went to feed him. Warmth is back. 6:02 Rose stole Ava's blanket - fight. El wnet to separate them in 2 beds. Warmth is back.

7:12

Brandon went to ravish Niq's secret stash of sweets - she is having her mother's voice, that is currently echoing through all the walls in the house... Warmth isn't back yet.

7:37

Em went to check on Daniel and he is crying again... The sound is getting louder. She is caring him in the bedroom... Where is warmth to fix this...

10:03

Everyone are gathered for breakfast, dressed. Behaving... El had a nervous break down and yelled and cried. So Joker send her on a walk and took charge of the offspring for the day.  - So... - He looked at his children, positioned around the half circled table. - Why are you so mean to your mom? Ha! She ruined her pretty butt to bear you all... Show some respect, damn you! Niq was one eye and hand on her phone and she raised the other.  - I was...  - Shut it! You were the one who ruined her at 1st place.  - You were the one who got her pregnant. - she yelled, could she not have this annoying voice.  - I was around 20, I just wanted a scratch - he yelled back, hoping the rest won't get or worse, remember what her said - ... Anyway. - he compossed himself and fixed his hair. The older one sighed. He slammed his fist on the kitchen table and they all winced.  - Listen what... You either fix your bratty attitude, or I am calling you a 'hormonal behavior' till you turn 22. She mumbled "Fine", the rest were quiet and the baby was whimpering, trying to lick it's snot.  - Em! Fix the baby. The 7 years old, got a napkin and stole the snot, which made Daniel quite unhappy. The twince were moved on his both sides so they can make silly faces, so he could be quiet.  - Daddy, is it true you put us into mom's vagina? - Rose asked. Since Ava was busy with Daniel. Em chocked on her laugh when Niq kicked her to be quiet. Brandon, was falling asleep, since he wasn't digesting.  - Yes, do you have a problem with that.  - Well you shouldn't ... Since you dislike us. - the girl's eyes got watery.  - I don't dislike you... - he pinched the bridge of his nose. - I just hate when you make your mother sad.. She isn't here to be your slave. I hate when she is crying, and whoever makes her cry, will have a problem with me.... Even if that's you... - he pointed at all. - And I can be so much more than an idiot your mother laughs at... you got your jerkness form me, and you definitely don't want to see it back at you... I can be scary as hell, if I want to.. Ask your sister! - he pointed at the older one. There was this situation, several months before Niq turned 10, that one of the guards was way too... Interested in her well being. He even once sneaked in her room while she was taking a bath... After this day, the only person responsible for the kids is their mother, who has all variaties of guns needed... Even Em knows hot to use teaser and is always carting a pepper spray. And the youngsters know how to scream loud enough to awake 12 levels tall building. This was the main reason, today was the 1st day she raised her voice at her father... Since this particular day.  - So... You all properly behave, or I will be the one in charge and I won't let your mother save you from my wrath anymore. They all silently nodded and he served them breakfast. Niq got boiled vegetables and cheese with juice. Em got fruit salad with 2 pieces of dark chocolate. Brandon got 200grams of pure raw dried meat that he ravished like a wild animal. The twice got pancakes with honey. Daniel got a bottle of mom's morning milk. The whole day the kids actually had fun. Their dad was around all day. Reading papers and plans and writing and drawing something. When he was done, he let the kids color some of the shapes on a light blue map. They were all given a color and pointed a place to fill. Since they weren't exactly hungry, they had fruit and vegetable, their choice, each for lunch, after that they were let for 2 hours on their own to run and scream in the back yard. Niq was responsible to prevent fights. It was sunny and warm, so it was ok, no risk of getting sick. The baby was inside, on a swingy bed, that J rocked while working. They even had a bath together. The big Jacuzzi works perfect as a kids pool... If needed. Later they all needed a nap from exhaustion. Dad tuckled all in, on his yoga mattress. And kept on readibg while they all slept. At some point the twins woke up whining and went to sleep on dad's lap. Brandon was snoring and Em was kicking him, gently...  taking turns with Niq to cuddle Daniel. After dinner... And no protest form Niq's side about the meat. They even had time for yogurt desert, even the Joker ate, although it wasn't almond or soya milk. They mixed it with fruits and pieces of dark chocolate.

23:30

 - Hey baby! - Joker suddenly said.  - How you know? - El let out an half asleep and definitely exhausted whisper.  - I can recognize the steps of everyone in this house.  - How are the kids?  - Niq had an attitude at breakfast, but I shut her... Gosh, woman, she is so much like you... And not in the good way. El laughed. - Daniel was chasing the snot again... Several times... Almost got it! So close... But so far! - the Joker pretend a sad face and fake cry. - The twins had a fight over a fork again... Gave them spoons each, were very trilled. - he explained adjusting his glasses and continued the Sudoku. - Brandon ate Niq's meat for dinner, I pretend not to see, Em got whatever was left of Daniel's pumpkin... Thing. Babs, this shit looks gross, I feel the need to puke when I see it... Changing smelly diapers is a blessing... This baby foods looked like someone already ate it and disliked it and then puked it and...  - OK, got it... Next! - she slapped his shoulder.  - I finally managed to make a decent butterfly waffel. The twins were thrilled! Stared for several minutes before attack.  - How's Niq.  - Nice, since the other alternative is 'hormonal behavior'. El laughed.  - They were wild, and had light lunch.... 7... Finally!  - What?  - It's 7 here.  - I have no idea, Love. I suck at Sudoku... Don't remark on that! He chuckled.  - They had a nap and then movie and dinner and another movie and a national geographic about hiking while the dessert.  - Desert?  - Yes! I made it! - he sassily drank of his coffee.  - OH my...  - What are you doing woman... Why you hit me... - now he understood why El was craving to be alone even from him sometimes. These kids, just some lone time, for like 5min, without the annoying questions, attitude.  - Your milk is over... That one made "moo" at some point in it's life...  - Jesus woman... - he scrubbed the spilled coffee of his pants, visibly annoyed. - I know, I used yours.  - Mine?  - Yes... You are like a fuc... You are like a cow. Daniel can't possibly use all.  -  What?  - I made the pancakes with it. After the nap we had a cup with cocoa each, again of yours.... The yogurt... I put it into my coffee...  - It's Mother's milk! - El protested.  - So... It tastes good... No animal was hurt while... Gathering it. - he cleared his throat.  - Brilliant! - she raised her hands in the air, and her blood pressure was raising an well.  - Babs, Daniel puked twice today, although we have him bottle less of what you had prepared.  - Ok... - she said uninterested in the conversation and sat next to him, putting her feet in his lap, and ruining his Sudoku.  - Where were you?  - Hanged with Oz and Ed. They are so cute... Fancy mention, fancy clothes, fancy tea cups, no kids...  - No annoying husbands.  - Actually plenty of this. They both laughed.  - Come on, love... Daddy missed the kitten.  - J... That's why we have 6 kids..  - That's why we had 2! The other 4 were your fault... The twins know the V-word.  - Good, because they actually have one...  - Shush.... No such stuff for my kids. They are cute little babies. Please... I already have one hormonal child... With her... Hormones. - he raised his hands in the air and waved sacrcastically. - A matter of time to start pissing me with the boyfriend subject... - he growled displeased.  - I didn't heard you complaining the other day when she climbed to you kissing.  - I officially allow you to kill me the the day I whined about it. El smiked. They went to bed.

00:07

The warmth is back! ... until one of the 6 kids is awaken in several minutes ...

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https://iraniq.tumblr.com/post/168851231567/mr-j-masterlist-updated

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[nightwingzero-blog1]

Write a story based on the metaphor: “Chaos is a friend of mine.”

This Is my first short story since high school, so let’s see how this goes!

           Her hair was a curly mess, as if it had been scooped up and placed lackadaisically on her head in a rush to get out the door. Her clothes, mismatches and wrinkled, hung on her body loosely, way to large to be on such a small frame. She struggled to keep her grip on the disaster she was holding on to. Pencils, sheets of loose leaf paper, and other school supplies started to drop to the ground as she made her way from the library doors to the table I had reserved for the group. She slammed her books down, prompting looks from the others quietly studying around us. Embarrassed, she bowed her head sheepishly apologizing. As she took her seat, I closed my book and stood up to leave.

“You’re late.”

“I know, I’m so sorry! Thing’s have been crazy for me and I...”

“Save it.” I interupt “ I’ve heard it all before. We’re done.”

“Wait, no please! You can’t kick me out of this study group I need so much help! C’mon, I know I’m a little late but I will do better next time I swear!” She jumped out of her seat, ready to keep me in that library even if it meant by force.

“No Kathrine, we’re done. As in it’s over.” I looked up at the clock “ We reserved this table from 2 to 4. You’re too late”

“What’s a couple of minutes over? I don’t think they’ll mind.” Kathrine said sitting back down and starting to sort through the mess of books and papers she brought in with her.

“Kathrine,” I said, drawing her gaze to mine “What time is it?” 

“ I don’t know? What, 5ish? 5:30?”

“8 Kathrine, it’s 8pm.” I said picking my book up from the table. “ The library is closing.” I saw the tears of frustration start to build in her eyes. “C’mon,” I said starting to walk towards the door. “The diner down the road is open 24 hours. I convinced the rest of the gang they could use the extra help and told them to meet me at the diner tonight at 8. But you’re riding with me. Knowing you’re luck you’d get lost coming down the street.”

“That’s perfect because I had to walk here anyway! My car blew up!”

I stopped in my tracks

“Your car did what?”

“Blew up! Fire, smoke, whole nine yards!”

“What are you going to do?”

“A lot of walking, I guess!”

“I don’t know how you’ve survived this long.” I muttered under my breath as I continued towards the door. “Let’s go!” I barked, and she frantically started snatching up her things.

I fastened my seat belt and looked up just as she was getting into the car. She didn’t quite clear the top and hit her head. She yelped in pain and grabbed the side of her head. i asked her if she was alright and she responded with “Psshh, that’s not even my worst head injury this hour. They don’t even let me in the kitchen any more.” 

“Oh yeah, how is the restaurant?” I said only partially listening disinterestedly.

“Well, I haven't burned it down yet, so I would say good! But mom isn’t too pleased with me. I keep destroying everything. She says that she hates to see me get bullied by the other staff, but she can see why they gave me my nickname.”

“Why doesn’t you're mom just fire them then? She owns the restaurant. It’s literally called Ma’s Haus! She can do whatever she want’s”

“She can’t fire them cause they’re right! I’m like a walking hurricane! I can mess up even simple tasks! I’m just...”

“We’re here!”

I put my car in park, killed the engine, and hopped out. I walked through the doors to the diner and found the booth the rest of the group was sitting in. The waitress came to the table and took my drink order. I opened up my book and started to chat with the rest of the group. Kathrine came walking in a few moments afterwards, disheveled as ever. She plopped down next to me. a couple of her papers with her illegible handwriting covered my book.

“Hi Kay” Said one kid from the group

“Long time, no see Kay” Said another.

And we studied. We stayed in that restaurant so long I’m sure the waitress wanted to kill us! One by one all of our group mates started to leave. Heading home to get some sleep before the big final tomorrow. Until, at 1am, It was just me Kathrine, and My best friend Jimmy. Jimmy stood up and stretched “It’s time for me to go, brother. I can hardly keep my eyes open!” He grabbed his book, notebook, and pen and threw them in his backpack. “I’ll see you guys in the morning” He looked at his watch “Or rather, I’ll see you in a few hours.” 

I stood up, shook his hand and told him good night, and good luck on the test. He turned to Katherine. “And Kay, be safe. I don’t want another incedent like last year when you drove your car into the building. Remember, cause you wear tired cause you stayed up the whole night before fixing that....”

“YES!” Katherine interjected. “I remember, thank you. I’ll do my best”

We gathered up the rest of our stuff and I took Kathrine to her apartment. As she was getting out of the car, she stopped and looked at me. “ I know a lot of people get frustrated with me. So thank you, for being so patient with me.”

“It’s no problem. Have a good night.”

She got out of the car and closed the door. I rolled down the passenger window and said “Hey, before you go, I have a quick question for you. What’s the nickname everyone at work is calling you?”

“It’s stupid, really. The cooks think they’re so clever. Since its my mom’s ‘haus’ they think i’m eventually going to take over and it with be ‘Kay’s haus’.... Get it kay-haus.... Chaos. They all call me Chaos. But I don’t see” She turned around to head into her apartment. She forgot abut the step up before the door and tripped sending book, papers, pencils, erasers, and all sorta of other junk into the air.

Chaos. That sounds about right.

[sisterbestill]

I write this on my iPhone, sitting next to my dad, who is currently getting his 4th Chemo Therapy Treatment of Carboplatin and Taxol. The drugs are chemical bombs and each week the accumulative damage grows. They pre-treat him with histamine blocking meds so he doesn’t have reactions, but he has reactions during the infusion, like he can’t breath. The nurses are well aware and calmly manage the reactions with more meds. These meds cause him to become very drowsy, so the remainder of the day becomes about keeping him from falling.

I still am trying to process all that has occurred since early August 2018. I look back on these pictures of our last outing at Lake Jocassee and never would have guessed how things would change just a week later. I’ve often wondered how cancer strikes people so quickly, now I know. I am writing this so I will never forget each minute that will forever live with me. I am also using this as a way to cope and understand something that is unfamiliar and terrifying.

My parents have always taken care of themselves and one another. They have been very lucky to have good health and I have been lucky to have them as energetic as they are in their eighties. When they moved up here from Florida, I was delighted I was going to finally be able to spend more time with them - like daily and weekly vs. just twice a year. They moved 15 minutes away or a lovely 60 min bike ride through rolling countryside and mountains. I was giddy and felt the universe shift a bit. I felt pulled to them. They are in fact two of the coolest, funniest, and open-minded people I know.

Shortly after this kayak trip (photos above) they decided to make a pact to live to 100 and created a “bucket list”. They were thankful for their health and never took it for granted. Perhaps the bucket list idea was a way to for them to celebrate how young they felt or perhaps they recognized they were chronologically getting up there.

Paddling on Jocassee was relaxing, calm, and beautiful; Certainly an experience they would have loved to have recreated again and I am hopeful they will. It may look different in the future, but I suspect the beauty and calmness of the lake will bath their brains in peace.

A week after snapping these pics, I got a call from my mom, she was on her way to the ER with my Dad. I was working one floor up and met them in the ER. While we waited, I learned my Dad had been feeling fatigued for several months and had developed shortness of breath over last few weeks. It wasn’t evident on the kayak trip that he was struggling, but it was obvious in the ER. My mom said they had been to their primary care several times and their primary care doc reassured him it was natural aging, as tests did not reveal anything to be concerned about.

As we sat for 6 hours in the waiting area, I was certain it was nothing serious. Afterall, my dad had no other health issues other than a little hypertension. His meds consisted of an 81 mg baby aspirin and amlodipine 2.5 mg each day - what a lucky guy. I was thinking maybe he had pleurisy or walking pneumonia.

We finally were shown to a room and labs were drawn. We were relieved to finally get things moving. By this time my sister, Lori, and I were getting silly from the fatigue of waiting. We were thoroughly entertained by a belligerent drunk guy on a stretcher in the halllway who seemed to draw all the attention of the medical staff while we well-behaved folks waited for answers.

I noticed my dad’s HR would easily jump to a sinus tach in the 130s with just a little bit of movement. Something didn’t seem right, but I was not going to speculate or think the worst. I was just his daughter, at his side, keeping the mood light.

We were informed by the physician assistant caring for us that his left diaphragm was elevated and was probably the cause of his shortness of breath. I was a little taken back as this was an unusual finding that left me with a knot in my stomach. Not too long after this finding he was whisked away for a CT of his chest.

He returned to the room and we waited for results. The PA came in with a sticky note and said she read off it: “You have a very large anterior mediastinal mass...No one here will operate because of your age...We are discharging you and you will need to see an oncologist.”

Our mouths dropped. My stomach bottomed-out as she said “mass” and my face flushed. We all just blankly looked at one another. Go home?

I spoke to a good nurse friend in recovery and she called the thoracic resident. I spoke to the PA who delivered the news and said, “We can’t go home. He is short of breath. He and my mom live alone. His Heart rate is bouncing up to 130s. He is weak. Please admit him and consult thoracic surgery.” My dad chimes in, “I’m not a throw away!” Meaning he doesn’t want to be dismissed because of his chronological age. He was far healthier than most half his age and this deserved a second look. The radiologist who read the report never actually saw my dad, but he did see a birthdate.

The next day, the interventional radiologist who read his CT and gave us the crappy news also did a needle biopsy of this baseball size mass.

We went home on a Wednesday after 2 days and waited. We were waiting for results and waiting for an appointment with a thoracic surgeon. Waiting is tough and if you are sick you will learn the meaning of patience.

We made it to Sunday when I thought something wasn’t right with my dad. He continued to have episodes of shortness of breath, but something was still off. I knew he had anxiety, but this was different. He said he felt fine and I almost left it at that. As a nurse you learn to listen to your 6th sense.

My parents live in a remote part of the county where everything is 30 min away. I left there house and an hour later returned with a pulse oximeter that I purchased from a CVS drug store. His oxygenation was 95% not bad for a guy now breathing 40 times a minute with 1.25 lung capacity. However, his pulse read 155 and I was baffled. No way?! I palpated his radial artery and it was a match. Off we went to the ER...

ER visit number II was faster as we went to a smaller satellite hospital 30 min from their home. The rhythm was too fast on the monitor to establish what it was so the ER MD attempted to chemically cardiovert him with adenosine. Adenosine is pushed quickly through an IV. It stops and restarts the heart. I can not lie, I was nervous. It’s so diffferent when this is your own family member. My mom tearfully excused herself and I stayed by his bedside. The ER doc informed my dad it would suck, and we proceeded. It sucked. He felt his heart stop and I watched his eyes bulge and panic come across his face for 3 of the longest seconds of my life. We were able to see he had an underlying atrial flutter. We were started on a verapamil drip and were transported to the main hospital for management by a cardiologist. His heart converted back to a normal rhythm on the verapamil drip before we left the ER in transport to Main hospital at 1 am. We were under the impression it was stress related to the new shitty diagnosis and having to wait on results.

The next day he had an echocardiogram to look at the structure and function of his heart. He was started on a Metoprolol a drug that blocks adrenaline and keeps heart rate lower and it was doing its’ job.

He spent 2 nights in hospital and outside of naps, lacked solid hours of good sleep. We finally got word that his ECHO results were good. No one said a word about metastatic disease to his pericardium. We were told he had a small ring of fluid within the pericardial sack, but it wasn’t a lot and certainly not something they felt needed draining. The atrial flutter responded well to the metoprolol and we were discharged home to once again wait for our thoracic surgery appointment.

We finally made it to the thoracic surgeon to learn of what was growing in my dad’s mediastinum. I was hoping for a thymoma, but instead we drew the really short stick with a highly aggressive, highly invasive cancer called: Squamos Cell Thymic Carcinoma.

WTF? Come on! Can we not catch a break here?

I had never heard of this type of cancer and neither have many in the medical field cause in addition to being aggressive and invasive, it is also a rare tumor. A rare tumor that hasn’t impacted enough lives that researchers devote a lot of time, money and effort into understanding it. Not only that, but sadly, most people die before any data can be collected. Once you get short of breath, dry cough and fatigue it is usually advanced.

PET Scan had some questionable lymph nodes light up, but no other disease was noted distal to the mediastinal cavity.

We hoped it could be removed. Excising the tumor was first choice in the management of this cancer and had the best outcomes, but to do this the surgeon would need to get clean margins. The thoracic surgeon wanted a cardiac MRI to examine if this tumor had invaded any of his great vessels. CT scans had only shown that the tumor was abutting the ascending aorta, but we needed to be certain cause the surgery involved opening his sternum with a saw and recovery would be 5-6 weeks. The surgeon emphasized that he didn’t want to operate and create trauma without being able to get the entire tumor. He didn’t want to delay care in a time-is-of-the-essence scenario.

It was 6pm on a Monday evening just days out from last hospitalization, when I returned to their house to check on him. Earlier that morning, my mom and I took his mini Pomeranian back to the vet and learned it was dying. The vet apologized and said it was time. We put my dad’s 18 y/o Pom, Ben, to sleep at 10:30. My mom held him and he passed. We were a mess. We told my dad and his response seemed flat. Distant.Something else was on his mind.

I stayed close and felt something was amiss, something was unfolding, progressing. I was thinking is he getting an infection? His temp was 100.2, slightly more SOB, and his pulse was 95-110 at rest, on a beta blocker. Nowhere near his norm and I could not ignore this or excuse it. My dad is precious to me. I looked at my mom and dad, apologized as I informed them we needed to go back to the ER. They were agreeable. I think he was relieved I recognized something was wrong.

Shortly after arrival at the satellite ER labs were drawn and ultrasound of his heart was done by ER doc. He said there appeared to be a large fluid collection around my dad’s heart. We were again admitted to ICU for a condition called Cardiac Tamponade. Early the next morning he had the fluid drained 600 ml from around his heart. The fluid build up which is inside the pericardial sac squeezes the heart. The heart can be stunned and go into failure. The fluid that was drawn off was sent for cytology. It was suspicious. It was likely metastatic disease.

In fact after annoying the cardiologist with repeated questions in the hallway, he motioned me over to his computer screen. He showed me the ECHO and pointed out the thickening of the pericardium and showed me a mass dangling from his ventricle. I didn’t need to wait for cytology. This was confirmation for me that we were very far into a disease process. My face flushed, my heart sank, and my stomach dropped as I comprehended the situation. I thanked the MD and my mom asked what he was showing me. I told her. I saw the color leave her face.

The thoracic surgeon was still hoping to remove the mass as the CT didn’t show it had invaded the great vessels, but he did want a Cardiac MRI which was on the back burner. We were still in ICU cause the Cardiac Tamponade and procedure to drain the fluid triggered a lot of Atrial Flutter and Atrial Fibrillation. We waited for the Cardiac MRI for 3 days. There is only one machine and his was repeated twice before they got quality images. The thoracic surgeon finally met with us and after consulting his partners, radiologist, and oncologist, it was decided surgery was just too risky and he wasn’t certain he could get clear margins. He stressed how he didn’t want to create more problems or delay my dad in getting treatment if there were complications. We very much appreciated the thoughtfulness of his answer. We really didn’t have a minute to spare. The surgeon decided to cut a window in my dad’s heart so the cancer did not build up more fluid and compress this vital organ again. The cancer cells would drain into his belly instead of filling the pericardial sack.

We were discharged home in a questionable state: weak. At first we were told he would stay until he was walking well, but the hospital was full and we were off-loaded unexpectedly. Home is a place with stairs. Stairs to to get in and stairs to get out and the most movement he had done in a week was walking 25 ft with a walker and that was exhausting for him. I was concerned about falls. How were me and my mom going to get 170 lb man up 5 steps safely? He was too weak. He hadn’t eaten, he had not slept in 10 days. We were behind the eight ball and chemo had not even started.

Chemo is rough. To survive chemo, one needs some level of fitness, meaning able to perform ADLs independently and move often. We were overwhelmed. The next week was labor intensive and emotionally draining. Here we were home and we were struggling. He still wasn’t eating, still not sleeping, and my radar was on constant alert. I spent my days observing and looking for subtle changes. Oh and there were changes that needed immediate attention as he flipped in and out of rapid atrial fibrillation and got urinary tract infection.

I was scared and my dad was terrified. In times when we were alone, he would ask me: “How did this happen?” He would shake his head as if disappointed in his body. Disbelief. He was unable to comprehend it and he too was terrified.

To be continued...

[unstable-reality]

The Space Between Echoes: Chapter Two

Chapter One [AO3]

Derso was not Derso. Or, at the very least, it was not the only Derso. Their planet, whose surface was now 1500 meters below them, was second from its star, and Cassian had informed Jyn that the fourth body in orbit, while equally habitable and equally named, was a subject of interest for traders of a certain type. There had been mention of smapp. Her memories of Coruscant were slight and vague, but there was enough there, enough to bring her parents to mind.

She’d asked him to stop talking. He had.

She liked that about him.

They sped over the jagged profile of a mountain range. The system’s star hung low, casting a glare, orange-white, on the window, offset by a toggleable overlay. Beneath them, the ground and flora had begun to glow. The day was newly born, on this part of the world. They flew into it.

Jyn leaned forward over the console, peered down. Derso 2 had a proper, multifaceted climate, with frozen poles and a band of warmth that hugged its equator, and they’d chosen to track a latitude along the northern edge of that band. Below, the red spines of the mountains fattened and then leveled, opening onto a wide, yellow-green valley, speckled by groves of trees and halved by an overfull river. Its rapids were white, frothy, violent; its banks were cluttered with clusters of tall grass.

She imagined a party, following the river. Ambushers, beyond the treeline, on either side. Flanking them. Drawing together, forming a loose semicircle, harrying them and pushing them up, up, away from the valley’s mouth, back toward where it narrowed, tapering into a solid wall of rock. Trapping them. Folding in on them.

There was a series of tones, short, close together, of medium pitch. Her heart jumped. Her head swung toward Cassian.

“Nothing to worry about,” he said. “Local fauna.” He flicked a series of switches, adjusting the transceiver. She frowned. She didn’t trust those things. She’d known them to be wrong, from time to time.

The valley continued to widen, pressing back against and siphoning ground off the mountains. Cassian dropped them down, angled the belly of the ship to match the slope of the land, hewed closer than Jyn would have dared. She knew how to fly. It was foolish not to learn. Those she’d known who’d never bothered had been locked in to the regions of their birth, at the mercy of environment and history and time, and she’d decided long ago not to be that brand of helpless. But he put her to shame. She supposed, thinking back, that he’d revealed a bit of his true skill when they’d escaped Jehda; she hadn’t really been in the frame of mind to pay attention at the time. Now, she couldn’t help but notice. And, given the givens, he was in a position to demonstrate.

She closed her eyes. It would be better, a damn lot better, if he wasn’t.

Her attention shifted back to the landscape. It had been nearly two hours since they’d broken atmosphere. Cassian must have thought this area looked promising, or he wouldn’t have closed in, but she still wondered how long it would take, whether they’d have to move to the next parallel. She wondered what she’d do if she got bored. She didn’t tend to make the best decisions, when she did. But, well, things had changed, hadn’t they?

“Wait.” They’d rounded the range and were headed toward the opposite side, passing over a section of rolling foothills. She pushed a foot against her seat, levered herself up.

“What?” Cassian cut the throttle. The craft shuddered. “Do you see something?”

“I think so.”

He banked to the right, turned them back. The sun glinted off the window.

“There,” she said. Amidst the foothills, abutting a ridgeline, there was a wide, U-shaped indentation, lightly forested. It was hard to tell from the sky, but it seemed as though there were extra points of egress along one arm of the U. “I like the looks of that.”

“Well, it’s a start, if nothing else.”

They touched down in the divot between a pair of hills, taxiing under a stand of trees. The transceiver hadn’t picked up any lifeforms since its last alert, but Cassian wasn’t keen to take any chances, and Jyn couldn’t blame him. They gave their weapons a once over. Adjusted their gear. He secured his blaster rifle, moved onto his pistol.

“Dammit.”

It refused to settle into its holster, slid halfway down, then resisted. He reached for the retention release. “It’s jammed.”

She watched him. Blinked. He could probably get it himself, but the angle was awkward, and depending on how bad the jam was, he might have to remove the belt altogether. Better to lend him an extra set of hands. Oh, bantha fodder, Jyn. “Here.” She took the blaster, handed it to him, slid her fingers into the holster, curled them toward the outside edge. Her knuckles pressed into his thigh; the flesh gave way, just a bit, just enough for her to detect it through the leather of his gear and the fabric of his trousers. He took a breath -- long, deep, slow. His exhale broke over her head. Curled around the tips of her ears. Her elbow nestled into his abdomen and shifted upward, and his muscles flexed in response, and her thoughts went spiraling.

Well. It wasn’t as if she’d expected, or wanted, anything less.

A click sounded, a bit of metal gave way, and the mechanism released. “All right.” She pulled her hand back. The rest of her stayed, right there, in his space, close enough that touch was incidental to movement, that the heat of his body was indistinguishable from the heat of her own. “Should be good to go.” She inclined her head and met his eyes. His face was no more than a decimeter from hers. “That ever happen before?”

“No. First time,” he said. His voice was low and full of gravel. “But it does mean I’ll have to get another, when I have the opportunity.” He glanced at the holster, leaning back just enough to retain his pistol. Looked down at her again. “Thank you.”

“Sure. Anytime.”

His fingertips grazed her hip, her waist. “Let’s go. We’re wasting time.”

A retort came to mind. She didn’t use it.

The air was cool, but not unpleasantly so -- 18° standard, light jacket weather. A nice change of pace, after spending half a week in the balmy environs of Yavin 4 and half a day in the tight climate control of a starship. The trees were strange, their bark a shade of orange she’d never seen before. Tiny white flowers bloomed within their leaves. There was a sweet smell, faint.

“You’d think someone would have settled here by now.”

“It’s not a bad place, no.” He walked a few paces behind her, his shoulders set in the wary relaxation of the ready and alert. “But it doesn’t have much in the way of resources -- not the sort that people are interested in, anyway. You’d never get rich off a planet like this.”

“Hasn’t stopped people from setting up on desert worlds.” Ice worlds, at least, had a tendency to be rich in ore and minerals. Like Fest. She tucked the thought away.

“Jyn, how much time have you spent in the outer rim?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. He’d been the one to build and collate the file on her; he knew exactly how much time she’d spent out here. He was pretending, for her sake, that he didn’t. “This far out?” Even when she’d been at her most desperate, she’d never strayed too far beyond the mid. There’d always been a maximum distance, an invisible line that, for one reason or another, she’d never wanted to cross. “Not much.”

“It’s different out here. People need greater incentives to stay in a place.”

The terrain sloped sharply downward. They bent their knees, leaned back, palmed the earth. Their boots slid and kicked up small stones, clods of dirt. A worm-like creature, thick and grey and at least four or five decimeters long, shot up from the ground, screeched, wriggled away. Jyn gritted her teeth.

“But, with the Empire expanding, and with things the way they are…” He didn’t need to say it. “You may have a point. I wonder if…” He shook his head. “Well. It’ll be good enough for now.”

“Cassian.” They were on level ground again. She paused, waited for him to come up beside her. His arm pressed against hers. “Don’t get cagey with me. What is it?”

He sighed. “I’m wondering if ‘hospitable’ might actually be a detractor.”

The next couple of hours were spent investigating the space, a basin scooped out of the side of the mountains. Assisted by handhelds and electrobinoculars, they were able to estimate its width at just shy of a kilometer. Toward its mouth, it narrowed, giving Jyn the impression of swimming within the center of a glass of wine. And along the edges of the bowl, there was more than one exit; all but one presented opportunities for ambush and misdirection.

They could defend themselves here. The terrain favored them, gave them ground cover, provided relief valves should siege tactics come into play. And, what was more, the ridgeline bowed inward. Stretching back, far enough that their lights couldn’t reach its end, was a cave whose opening extended nearly the entire width of the bottom of the U.

Cassian shook his head. “Jyn.” He stepped closer to her. His features were warm, relaxed. He smiled. “I think this is it. Nicely done.”

She smiled back, pushed her tongue between her teeth. It was astounding, how much she had come to value his opinion.

“We’ll have to do some exploration in there before we send our report, of course, but...this is better than I could have hoped for.”

“Well, that’s saying something, considering how you feel about hope.”

He huffed. “And, what, you think you’re not the same way?”

She hadn’t been, when she’d first met him, when she’d first come into contact with the Alliance. If anything, she’d been the exact opposite, clinging to life largely out of habit. A lot had happened since then.

Kyber burned against her skin. I am one with the Force and the Force is with me.

Listlessness.

The change was barely detectable. Instincts honed over the course of long, hard, years vibrated, raised her hackles, made her shoulders roll back. She paused, widened her stance. Soil scraped beneath treads.

A susurration. Metallic whirring. Crescendo, air and current, the high-pitched wail of a blaster charge. He was between her and it. He was between her and it, and he was turning, but she had heard it first, seen it first, and she was slamming into him before she’d fully registered what she was doing.

It took three shots. They were on the ground, half of her on top of half of him, their legs intermingled in a way that might have made her stomach twist had adrenaline not been focusing her attention on something else altogether. Fifteen meters distant, black, an oval beset by protrusions, hemorrhaging sparks, there lay an Imperial probe. Cassian tilted back his head and took it in.

“Well, shit.”

Jyn was used to moving.

No fewer than three times, when she’d been too young to have a choice or a say, her parents had shuttled her from one planet to another. She had, out of necessity, let go of friends. She had, out of necessity, cultivated an expansive imagination, a refuge from her isolation. She had, out of necessity, thrown herself into her relationship with her mother and father. Made them her world.

Because they were her world. Because there was nothing and no one else.

And then they were gone.

Saw and his people were the next best thing, and, as is the wont of rebels, they were always on the march. There were periods, sometimes lengthy, of location-specific activity. But for the most part, they were a roving band, constantly searching and shifting, heading either where it seemed they were most needed or where it seemed they’d best be able to take cover. She’d latched onto the cadre because she’d been in desperate need of friends. She’d latched onto Saw because she’d been in desperate need of a parent.

And then, well, they were gone, too. After that, “rootlessness” had become a byword for “survival.” Transit was required for successful living in the margins of society. She had no true name, no true district, no true region, no true world. Suited her just fine.

So, she didn’t quite know how to take her disappointment.

They hadn’t selected Derso 2, not officially. Even if they had, it wasn’t foregone that Yavin 4 would need to be evacuated. And, beyond that, she didn’t get attached to places. It didn’t make any sense to.

Cassian had mentioned “greater incentives.” Ah, well.

She wondered if places might not always be places.

“Even if we don’t get anything from this, we need to resupply.” His voice was flat when he said it.

He was disappointed, too. That helped.

Zorii Outpost lay along the Hydian Way on the boundary of the mid and outer rims, a go-between that facilitated trade between the colonies and those worlds that lay beyond. Although Cassian had been chosen for the mission in part due to his network, he’d wanted to avoid tapping into it if possible; Rebellion-centric conversations always carried a risk with them. But one of the worlds on the list had been compromised, and that suggested they needed to update their intel. He’d jumped them to a different, irrelevant sector, sent a coded message. Gotten a response.

They moved down a broad road, past booths and storefronts and small, open-air restaurants, each of which seemed tailored to a specific culinary niche. It was better maintained than most such places she’d been to; the buildings sported the usual wear-and-tear, but they still looked as though they’d been cared for, and the street itself was relatively clean. She wasn’t sure whether that was a good or bad sign.

Cassian’s hand slid over her shoulder, onto her upper back. He bowed his head toward hers. “That’s our guy -- Telara.” His breath was hot on her cheek and neck. She followed his gaze, and took in a man of middle years, balding, leaning against a post with his arms folded and one foot crossed over the other. Even at a distance, she could make out the exaggerated rise and fall of his chest, could tell he was breathing hard.

“He looks…” she whispered. The man’s eyes darted. “...obvious.”

“Yes. He does.” Cassian took a step and turned to face her. His body wrapped around hers, the inside of his thigh pressing against her hip, his arm curling around her side, tugging her close. “We’ll have to be careful, I think. See what we can do to make this quick.” He glanced over his shoulder, back at Telara. “I may need to reach out to someone else instead.”

He lingered, just a moment, before pulling away. They fell into step beside one another. She struggled to concentrate.

“Oh, thank goodness.” The contact’s shoulders loosened and sagged, as if the sight of them had robbed him of tension. “I was starting to worry.” He pointed to a store across the way; there was a gaudy, oversized awning hanging over the entrance, making the door look tiny and meek. “That one’s mine,” he said. “You, uh, wanted to see it, didn’t you?”

They spared one another a glance, and then followed him inside.

Edric Telara, as it so happened, was a sympathizer from years back. Cassian had... inherited him. It was an odd, somewhat callous way to put it, but it was accurate: the officer who had initially cultivated the relationship had long since died. Cassian had mentioned, when they’d been discussing the meet-up, that Telara had initially had trouble accepting him as a replacement. It was understandable. Informants, as a matter of course, couldn’t afford to be careless with their trust.

And that was part of why Jyn knew, almost immediately, that something was wrong.

He offered his hand to her. “Good to meet you, uh…?”

“Kestrel,” she replied, accepting the handshake. It had been a while since she’d used that one.

“Used to know a girl named Kestrel. Wonder what happened to her…” He shook his head, began leading them through his shop. It was odds and ends, wiring and spare parts, mechanics’ tools, small sheets of durasteel and plasteel. Toward the back, there sat a cabinet, the split between its doors adorned with a very prominent lock. Jyn suspected it held weapons. “They usually don’t send him with a partner. Not that you being here’s a bad thing. Recruitment must be up, huh?”

“We’re not here to chit-chat.” Cassian’s face was impassive. “You know why I called you.”

“Sorry. Just trying to be polite.” Telara stopped, looked back toward the door. “There’s not, uh… There’s not a lot of news lately.”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t got anything.”

Jyn swallowed. It wouldn’t be a complete waste, coming here; they’d had the chance to top off their fuel reserves, buy some new gear (including a holster), stock up on food and water. But it would certainly be irritating -- and another sign that something wasn’t quite right.

“There have been rumors. Lots of interest in Wild Space these days, I guess. And Tolonda and Merel.”

Jyn and Cassian’s eyes met, briefly. One of their potential worlds was in Tolonda.

“Anything coming out of Sarnix, Varada, Wazta, Trilon?”

The skin between her shoulder blades crawled. None of those sectors was relevant to them. A couple of them may have bordered on those they’d be scouting; she wasn’t sure, having never been the type to memorize maps. She expected Cassian to lie while on the job. It was what he did. But the fact that he was being this evasive with a contact meant that he’d been picking up on exactly what she had, and that the angle of the meeting had changed.

Her fingers twitched toward her weapons.

“Wazta, maybe, but I don’t know about the others.” Telara shrugged. “Like I said, not much news.”

Old-style hinges creaked. Wood scraped against wood. Jyn turned, body going taut, readying itself for action. The door to the shop clattered against the wall. The man who walked in was young, younger even than her, dressed in starched linens and leather new enough to still retain its gloss. Rich kid. Looking for a little excitement, maybe, out here on the edge of things. He paused at the threshold, taking in the three of them. His larynx moved up, down.

“Oh, um.” He lowered his eyes and started walking, very pointedly, toward the side of the store opposite from where they stood.

Cassian clapped Telara on the back. He jumped. “Looks like you’ve got a customer. We’ll leave you to him.” He looked at Jyn, and she nodded. “Thank you for the tour, old friend.”

They started to leave.

“Wait!” Telara called after them. “Do you...do you have a place to stay?”

Jyn felt her senses sharpen, her heart rate increase.

“We have a room at the inn, on the next street over.”

The man half-smiled, bobbed his head. He was breathing hard, again. “Ah. Good.”

Cassian gave him a tight smile, then planted a hand on Jyn’s back and pushed her, gently, toward the door.

The first handful of steps they took, once they’d gotten outside, were casual, even, measured. They kept their gaits light. Glanced around. Cassian gestured in the direction of what she assumed was the inn he’d mentioned. It wasn’t until they’d rounded a corner, until they were sure that Telara couldn’t see them, that they began to hurry. Cassian’s hand hovered over his holster. Jyn was aware, very keenly, of the weight and shape of her truncheon, pressing into her side and upper thigh, cold and stiff and comforting.

“Well,” she said, “this mission is turning out to be a lot more...interesting than they made it sound.”

“It wouldn’t be us, if it wasn’t.”

“You have a point.” They moved past an alley. Her gaze swung toward it, eyes darting up walls, toward windows, toward roofs. “At least some of the information he gave us was useful.” And at least Cassian had thrown him off their trail.

“If any of it is even reliable.”

“He’d have no reason to lie, if it’s a set up.”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

It occurred to her that their conversation was veering into too-familiar territory. She decided to stop talking.

They had landed in a docking bay on the eastern side of the outpost, where the throb of commerce was abruptly halted and the primary streets opened up and emptied, like tributaries, into a wide, partially segmented space. They were nearly there. The steady drone of countless craft landing and taking off, of air being displaced, of engines firing and warming up and cooling down, of dock workers shouting and exclaiming, drifted back, wafted over them. Jyn could see some of the ships. She could see the lights.

A woman stepped out from the shadow of a doorway. She grinned.

“Hey, there!”

To her credit, she managed to raise her blaster nearly half of the way before Jyn’s truncheon connected with the side of her neck.

In the next instant, she and Cassian were running, sprinting toward the docking bay, and then skidding to a stop, scrambling to turn back as a group of Stormtroopers spilled out from a cross street. There was a high pitched screech near her ear, a hiss, an eruption of plaster. Cassian’s arm around her shoulders, pushing her head down. The strange, red-orange, barely-there glints of light accompanying blaster bolts. They dropped and all but threw themselves around a corner, down another street.

People began to scream. Vendors dove under their booths. Restaurant patrons rushed from open-air seating to the relative safety of the indoors. Most of them, anyway; some took up defensive positions, pulled out weapons of their own. Jyn wondered whether she should be grateful to them or annoyed at their foolishness.

Cassian spat. “Dammit!”

“What?”

They squeezed into a space between buildings that barely qualified as an alley, knees bent, backs to one of the walls, close together, side by side. Cassian was tugging at his pistol; he’d gone with it over the rifle, due to its lower profile.

“The retention release.”

She gaped at him. “Are you kidding me?”

“No.”

“Your new holster…”

“...is on the ship.”

“Andor, you are brilliant at what you do.” She paused. “But you’re also an idiot.”

“Yes, I know. You can insult me all you want for it later. But right now, I could use some help.”

Heavy footfalls sounded off to the right, in the street, joined by the distorted, tinny voices of men speaking through plasteel-encased microphones. They were moving closer, and quickly. Jyn’s thumb slid over Cassian’s, slipped under it.

“Maybe if we both…”

A blaster discharged, mere meters away. Someone cried out.

They pressed down on the release together, were rebuffed. “What ever did you do to this thing?”

The footsteps drew parallel to them. Jyn turned.

She had to twist the truncheon, pointing the end of it down, moving it upwards so that it wouldn’t strike the opposite wall. It came up under the trooper’s arm, smacking his elbow with a loud crack, causing his fist to pop open, his blaster to clatter to the ground. She took a step. Twisted the stick again. Struck his hip, swept it upwards, into his armpit, locking it behind his shoulder. Leveraged him forward. Brought his head into contact with her knee.

It hurt, like hell. But it hurt him quite a bit more.

He crumpled, and she hit him again, on the back of the neck.

And then looked up, into the barrel of another blaster.

“...no.”

She heard the shot. Winced. Felt her body flood with an emotion that she couldn’t quite name, an emotion she’d felt far more often over the course of her life than she likely should have. There was fear involved, but there was also a calm acquiescence, an acceptance of the fact that the end was on its way.

She watched as smoke began to rise from a hole in the Stormtrooper’s chest.

Two blaster bolts raced past her head, dropping another pair of unfriendlies. Cassian grabbed her arm, tugged her backwards.

His pistol was still at his hip; he’d picked up the one the first trooper had dropped.

“Let’s go,” he growled.

The alley was blessedly short, and they sidled down it as quickly as they could, and then broke into a run, heading in the general direction of the docking bay. Instead of connecting with the main road that they’d been on before, this street curved sharply to the east, taking them into a small residential area. Worry closed around Jyn’s heart. Behind them, she could hear the sounds of a firefight; those who’d chosen not to hide were fighting back, and if nothing else, they’d hold the Imperials off. But if they got through, and came this way…

Well, she very much hoped that they didn’t.

Cassian was right: she’d become a big fan of hope, in recent times.

After several moments, a roar filled the air, and her attention was drawn upward. A ship hovered, turning in midair, so near that she was surprised she couldn’t feel the backdraft from it. They were close. They were very, very close.

“This way!”

A street to the left, short. At its end, the main road.

“I’ve found them! Over here!”

Boots, stomping. Fewer than there had been, but still too many. Far enough back, though. Far enough back.

Most of the dock workers watched them with interest as they sped across the bay. A few, however, ran to intercept them. One managed to get himself between them and the ship, holding up his hands, shouting something about the name of the Empire. Cassian tucked his shoulder inward and bowled him over.

Once on board, they all but collapsed into their seats. Cassian’s fingers raced over the console; his knuckles went white around the throttle.

“What if they’ve tethered us?”

“We’ll break it.”

The engine’s song filled the interior of the ship. They lifted off the ground; Jyn’s nails dug into the underside of her seat. She waited for the sensation of arrested momentum.

It never came.

Some time later, when the rush of battle had worn off and they were cruising, silently, in hyperspace, Jyn left the cockpit and made her way back to the cabin. She walked past her own bunk, knelt down in front of Cassian’s. Had a thought. Went warm with it.

When she returned, he was sitting back, staring at the great, heaving mass of blue-white, expression unreadable. They were headed to one of the red herring sectors he’d mentioned; they’d spend a bit of time orbiting a world there, putting on as if it interested them, and then make the jump to one of their actual targets. There was no guarantee, if they were being followed, that their tail wouldn’t stay with them through the second jump. But it was better to try than to do nothing.

She stepped up behind him. Dropped something into his lap. He started.

“What…” It was the new holster. With a sigh, he swivelled in his seat and looked up at her. “I’m never going to hear the end of that, am I?”

“No. You’re not.”

“Well, thank you.” He reached out, touched her knee. “How’s this?”

She took a moment to consider. It did hurt, still, if she thought about it; she figured she’d have a hell of a faceplate-shaped bruise in a few hours. But she’d had much worse injuries, and endured much worse pain. “It’s all right.”

His hand stayed there. His fingers curled around the back of her leg. Their eyes locked.

At some point, there were things they were going to have to say. A lot of things.

“Good.”

[chaoticpolicecollective]

On touring Europe, making a new show each time, and learning their craft all the time. check the body language, how Dean touches J (her breast, knees, how they’re sitting).

JT: CHris is the more creative one with with a show in their own style

I would be scared to try anything new because I was afraid of hurting him.

CD: we had the blade though the hand, we had the blade through the head

4:40 on the question of the relationship off the ice CD says taking JT’s hand: we were going to make the announcement tonight but just before the programme we had a steaming row so we decided to put it off. <Audience laughs>

6:30 TW : how many more years can you go on?

7:17 song, TW: It’s a number one in Albania. Is that what you’re going ot do now?

JT <seriously>: This was his therapy after the car crash, he was very very bored, and he felt that the only thing he could do was to sing, and that’s what we did.

(Accident in ‘Dancing on ice”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bKK6c_hd9Y8 )

10:12 CD: we wont take part in the olympics because everything we do in the routine is illegal

In dance you can’t touch this part of the body, you can’t spin, you can’t do this sort of lift. IT’s stricter, more contained, it’s ice dancing. And since then we’ve gone on to hold all those bits, and do all those buts and we enjoy doing it and we don’t want to let it go of it.

Interview 1995 (with Chris being late https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_PIyV1xCyKs

They’ve written a book

Host: Chris is stuck in traffic. Mind you I think you’ll be able to dine out on that

JT: I am. I’m having such a hard time. He’s always the one who’s exactly on time: saying ‘you won’t be late, you won’t be late’. If anything it’s me who’s a little bit late’

When we received the MBE he actually told me the wrong time so that I could get the earlier, so i’d be actually on time.

H: Tell him to get his skates on.

1.13 - About the book:

H: It’s a wonderful insight to .. How does it feel that, you know(raises the book) here’s my life, up till now.

JT: we often thought that, you know, this is it, we had to pout it down in writing, we tried ot be as acutrate with everyting, trying ot be as open...because you know this is an account of our lives to date. WE wanted to take time. It actually took as about a year to when we started talking about it. And w e had written a book previously but it was up until 84, and it felt like we’ve done an awful lot since then as professionals and we also wanted to talk about ourselves as people. Eveeyrone is always asking about our relationship, how that works and how we spend so much time together, what’s it like, is it like brother and sisiter or like a marriage (face). It was hard, we dont really know but we tried to speak about iti n the book to see if people can understand that a little bit more.

h: I mean the speculation about that was unbelievable at one time. You laugh about that now?

JT: Yes, at the time it was very frightening and overwhelming, we didnt understand why peopel wanted to know that, information about our private lives and we thought that people will be interested in the actual skating. At the time it was frightening but we learnt to handle it. IT woudl be like:

H: it’s this crossover between sport and show business at the end of the day.

about the book - to everyone who want to knwo truth not hte mysths.

3.30 - Chris arrives (body language)

CD: THe traffic is against us this mornign.

JT: Anyway, I’m doing fine, I’m ding fine (she sits on him to cover him up)

skating , roller blading, skiing, worried abut breaking anything

5.02 H: 1994 Winte Olympics, you put yourselves through it, you put us all thorugh it, I think the viewing fugures were as high as the royal wedding or somethign like that. HAve you ever thought, why, why are we doing this, why are we putting ourselves through this

JT: Well, I think when we stepped on for te final performance, that moment of waiting, the tension is awful

Going on competitions gives usa chance to choreograph something new. It’s nice to work on new pieces.

Late Late Show 1995 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BPkBMuXUUu4

2.00 H: I noticed you’ll be perfroming in Dublin on Friday 13th, Are you peolpe  s....

CD: It’s Jayne’s choice, she likes numbers like that

JT: I like 13. Like they say ‘unlucky for some’ so..I consider it lucky myself

Yo Yo MA: celoist: Bach Cello Suite #5: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lF5oY-_AT3s

Allemande: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lF5oY-_AT3sy

Bach wanted to meet Handel. Here’s T&D choreography to Bach.

Labour of love, not for competition, for the beauty of the movement:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lF5oY-_AT3sy

BBC - Face The Music - The Return of Torville and Dean: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lF5oY-_AT3sy

Streets named after them, and Bolero Close

Honour Degrees from Nottingham University

1.15 - CD (saying a joke): What’s the definition of the intellectual’? Someone who can hear the William Tel Overture without thinking of the Lone Ranger. Well let’s try this one shall we (hums Bolero)

1.35 Since then anxious questions have been prompted by (the art): surely this isnt sport. Is that art? HOw can they re-enter the Olympics.

1.48 Enter the olympics in Norway next year (1994). Their return was made possible due to the change of rules about the competing styles

2.50 They hired the ice rink (in Milton Keyns) for 4 hour a day 6 days a week to work on the stepr for Rumba and their 3 min free dance on which their comback will be judged.

3.20 CD: Each day w’d work on a section and the next day we’d double it ...then break it up again

5.00 (comments during perfecting a move)

5:35 JT: ‘We’ve used the video in the past quite a bit but we probably never used it this early on

9:03 - JT: He’s very forceful, very dominant, and if i was the same character we’d have too many clashes. But in a partnership you need somebody to be the driving force.

CD: And i think it’s part of what i do, i keep pushing. ANd ok, if i see a mistake or feel the mistake umm and if it is Jaynes Mistake, i’ll tell her. And if it’s mine I’ll tell her that she’s made a mistake too. (laughs)

JT: I’m pretty sort of easy going person, I’m very, usually placid and I need someone to fire me up, to get me going sometimes and he’s always liked it

10.45 JT: Of course I have a different rapport with Phil, my husband, when oyu meet someone you fall in love with .. there’s a magic element that attracts you to each other (Phil is a soudn engeneer from CHicago ,working with Genesis, JT tripps over the leaves - ‘I thought you’re supposed to be well coordinated’)

CD: about being in love with Jill (partner) and previous marriage break up (both ice skaters)Will you get married

11:45 CD: We knew it wouldnt work to work and be partners in live

14:52 Reneissance of dancing put back into skating (hence ‘Face The Music and Dance’)

15.00 - COMMERCIAL ASPECT: Agent / costs/ making 1 million punds if they do win, merchanduse, endorsements,very marketable comodities, they need to come back to hog the headlines

19:45 About wearing lycra and friend disapproval. You can get away with wearing anythign these days 20:30 about measuring the costume for Chris

21:10 It’s about steps and what our bodies are doing, they’re not so twisted.. its about the firs time a man to hold of a woman and started dancing wiht her instead on hi own.

22:00 Costumes from Jayne. You need to have 3 outfits. 1 for practices in character, looking like oyu could wear it. One you’re there you’re on display, on the first day of practice you need to show the judges, have all the bits right. Have flattering shape of the costume and the less material - the colder it is

22:50 - 2 ment (Chris & Trainer) talk about Jayne’s expression - storng but where did the coyness go. (and later) I love her expression when she does it. Her eyes are so big.

23:30 (during practicing) JT: Too Fast Too Fast.

CD: Don’t resist me one I started

24:!7 it’s about the presentation now: ‘it’s awkward. When I see Jayne’s arm is so stiff, looks very static to me

25:00 talking about Jayne’s impressions and directing her - how she should behave/ perform aka similar to when M instructs Nicholas in the performance.

25: 58 CD: ‘there’s a girl her who wasn’t born when we won our first championship.

JT: Really? Oh Dear.

26:25 JD: We’re really hapy wit hteh draw we got because alle the skater are doing the same pattern in the compulsory dance. It get’s like tram lines out there. Whereas the ice looks smooth to the person watching, to the person skating, it’s like getting caught on lines and other peopel’s edges - you can catch them and get into the groove and it can really throw you off balance27:20 PRACTICE/ talking about the movements, drawing the movement trajectory with a finger in the air - MOVEMENT 28:15 They create the intensity and electricity between them (29:10 Chris’ partner: Jayne is calm and Chris is nervous. That’s how it works. Because I’m in love with Chris I can tell by looking in his eyes whether the smile is forced or genuine 29:50 Applying make up, helping each other with it, trying to stay calm 32:40 MOVEMENT - Post Performance ritual

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Thursday 5 April 1838: SH:7/ML/E/21/0071

8 ¼

11 25

fine but dullish morning F39° at 9 20 – not ready in time to breakfast with A- had Cookson and stood sometime talking to her – to try to make me stays and gaiters – breakfast at 9 20 alone (A- with her drawing master Mr. Horner – 2nd drawing in colours) out and in and out in the flower garden in the front of the house with Robert Mann + 5 levelling and attending as yesterday and Tuesday to Mark Hepworths’ carts bringing rubbish from the Northgate hotel courts – the man breaking rubble in the house court as yesterday and Tuesday – and Booths’ man (Amos Ambler) mason making holes for the clothes posts in the laundry court – went 2 or 3 times to A- had Mr. Jubb ¼ hour between 10 and 11 came to see Susan’s sprained ankle – going on well – A- rode off soon after 11 to Landymere, and then crossed the country to her aunts’ [Mixender] mill (called Shaw mill) 21DW. 8 frames upstairs working 4 in a room below standing Mrs.  [Berry] the tenants’ wife said the room was not light enough – 12 frames and a six horse power steam engine the woman said worked to 8 horse power .:. at this rate there is power for 12 frames – came in at 12, and looking about and musing in the hall, and red room, and making out the old original plan of the house for a couple of hours – my ideas seemed to myself more enlightened today than ever before, and perfectly borne out by the charpente of the present building – the hall stood on the 4 large pillars still standing there being no chimney and the present entrance passage being part of the hall – the roof projected or hung over north and south ealing over an outside open gallery to the south and ditto open or closed in? to the north – the 2 gabble ends abutted against each side of the hall each projecting the breadth of the gallery or more beyond the hall a large room a dais or raised part running along the drawing room side? some little while in the west tower – then out again with Robert Mann about cleaning out the farmyard and coach house  court aisances and talking and planning about drains etc. – it began to rain about (just before) noon and continued more or less all the afternoon – sent me in about 3- washed much cousin sat reading from about 3 ½ to 5 ½ (when A- returned rather but much wet – tired) Rhinds elements of geology and from p. 80 to 152 Rhinds’ age of the Earth – A- with me, and then with her speaking to Joseph Mann about putting down a quarry hole at Landymere in the little field adjoining the new road – JM. will do it at 15/. per yard in depth and 6 x 5 ft. dimensions – there will be 6 yards depth of baring – I see that there would be 14 or 15 yards to sink and this and damages to the tenant would be a £30 job – when A- and I have talked of putting Bentley’s quarry road is 15ft. deep against the new road instead of 9ft. as we had thought – this makes a material difference – this JM. thinks would wear itself out in 115 yards length to a level with the present surface of the ground – went into the cellar – 1 Marsala – dinner at 7 5 A- much tired – left her asleep – stole away at 8 10 and came upstairs and till 8 35 wrote all the above of today – then hearing A- ring the bell went downstairs – she had gone into the North parlour and was poorly and tired and slumbering – I had more water to put into the kettle and to make boil and spirit wine for the lamp to call for and coffee to make and all this and skimming over the newspaper took me till we both came upstairs at 10 5 at which hour F41° and rainy night – finish dullish day till near noon – afterwards more or less rainy for the rest of the day and evening – stood reading from p. 152 to 171 Rhinds’ age of the world –

A-‘s ring lost  between 11 am and 6pm today