trying to be mindful and chill 🧘‍♀️

Βοῶπις

I pile things in front of my door and it's not a metaphor - my entryway is an awkward, narrow little space, and fitting a bed and a desk and a couch into a little slot of studio space means the only slice of floor not in constant use is that little half-a-corridor

and it's a little bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy - the entryway is too small to do anything useful with, so I shove anything I don't want to deal with there, so it's too small and crowded to do anything with, so I may as well shove another box over there.

when I was small and searching for mirrors, I loved Ariadne. She was smarter than the trap her family had made for her. She proved to Theseus that she was clever and brave so he would rescue her away.

when I open my door for someone, they have to pick their way over recycling that needs to go out and potting soil I haven't put away and extra bags of cat litter leaned against a wall and I apologize for how hard I've made it for them to get to me. I make myself small against the white wall to leave room for them to clamber in.

to this day, I can feel the sinking horror of learning the second half of Ariadne's story - that Theseus abandoned her on an island while she slept. The man she protected from certain death left her to hers. Some stories say Dionysus rescued her, if being claimed by a man you did not choose, you did not save, you did not lead by hand so that you might save and be saved, love and be loved, counts as rescue. I sat on my childhood bed and cried.

I break glass a lot in this apartment. turning around too quickly or with too many things in my arms, I knock wine glasses and candles and handmade mugs onto the floor. it's dangerous in here, I say, meaning the whole apartment because there's nowhere the shards of china don't reach. I've made it dangerous in here.

(the rescue always sounded too convenient to me. I think he left her and she died and he told everyone that she'd been plucked away by the gods and there was simply nothing he could do.)

I think of my grandmother who used to say she loved my big brown eyes, so different from her own. I think of cradling a phone to my ear to hear an uncle I've never met ask if my eyes are still as beautiful and brown as when I was a baby. I think of my uncle saying I have my father's eyes. I think of Hera ox-eyed and Hathor horn-crowned and I put another box in front of my door. My labyrinth grows just a little smaller.

Some thoughts -

Since I’m re-starting my business here on a smaller scale (at least at first) I can finally implement some changes that I’ve always wanted to make!

Some ideas:

Cuter packaging (also with a heavier focus on using recyclable materials)

Have neat little crystal stickers to add to orders

Finally be consistent with business card designs, have multiple designs with pretty pictures and rotate them so you can collect them

Also implement a better system (that’s actually consistent) for gifts that come with orders 😅

And I was thinking that instead of making mystery boxes a big thing every time we just always have them available in the online store with the understanding that the box will contain mystery pieces from the online store itself. I think that gets rid of the chaos and stress that always comes with mystery boxes lol.

Also I realize it’s now the middle of the night for almost all of you, but I’d love to hear what you think of these ideas whenever you see this post 🥰

Kicking Up Dust - Part 3

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: None in this chapter. Slow burn to NSFW

A/N: Takes place after ‘Falcon and the Winter Soldier’ with one major exception - Steve Rogers is not dead. He stepped down. This is in line with my Crossroads story. There will also be a parallel Steve story coming.

Part 2 or Master List

You paused, pointing the large kitchen knife in Bucky’s direction. “Straight or diagonal?”

He looked up from the box of black and white photos, “Huh?”

Holding the knife over one of the thick BLT sandwiches, you motioned which direction to cut. He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Bull. Everyone has a preference.” You smirked. “It’s a universal truth.”

He looked back down at the stack of pictures. You waited. Finally he mutter, “Diagonal.”

You smiled, cutting his three sandwiches in half and plating them along side the stack of potato chips. He mumbled a thanks as you slid the plate to him. Taking your own, you sat down beside him. The box of pictures had been in the cabinet. Bigger than a shoebox, it was packed full. Unfortunately, few had any writing on the back.

He held one out, staring at it with sorrow in his eyes. The card stock was yellowed and the edges were worn. It was a slightly blurry shot of a couple sitting on a stone stoop. Judging by the clothes it was around World War I or thereabout. Bucky sighed heavily. “That’s my Ma and Pops.”

“Good looking pair.” You commented before biting into your sandwich.

“Ma was an angel.” He stared for a long time before continuing. “Pops was,” he shrugged. “He did his best I suppose.”

You watched him put down the picture with the others that he’d laid out on the table instead of the pile in the lid of the box. He fell on his food like a well-mannered starved man.

“Must have been tough.” You mused. “Taking care of a family during the Depression.”

“Didn’t see him much.” He said through a half mouth of food.

“How old were you then?”

“It was real tough from the time I was eight or ten to when Pops died when I was seventeen.” Bucky chewed thoughtfully for a while. “I remember being pretty angry, not seeing him around. Guess I never thought about what he was doing. Ma was good at canning and making this really good bean soup. She traded with others on the block. A jar of bread and butter pickles for laundry soap. Pot of soup for some eggs and butter.”

It was the most he’d said at one time, so you stayed quiet. He started on his second sandwich before continuing.

“I took whatever work I could, but Ma wouldn’t let us drop out of school. It was all odd jobs.” The corner of his lip tipped up. “Becca would take off with this little old German woman in the afternoons. They were just supposed to be going for walks, but she’d always came back with her little satchel full of greens and nuts or berries. I think they went foraging through the parks. Ma would make dandelion salads. Stevie would stay a lot. He loved helping Ma cook.”

“Rogers? Really?” You cocked your head. “I don’t really know him, but for some reason that surprises me.”

“Ma said the little punk actually made biscuits better than her.” He pointed to another picture, this one of three youngsters. A dark haired boy, maybe fourteen, had one arm around a smaller blond boy. His other hand held that of a little girl with long dark braids. “That’s us.”

“You look happy.”

“Yeah,” he wiped his hands after finishing the last of his food. He picked up the picture, staring at it. “Tough times, but we always managed to have a laugh. At least when Steve wasn’t getting his ass beat.”

You chuckled as you drank down the last of your lemonade.  

By the late afternoon, you’d gone through most of the drawers and cabinets in the sitting room. A recycle bin overflowed by the back door. Multiple boxes were set aside for Bucky to rummage through and one box of vintage magazines were set aside for sale.

Bucky sat in a chair on the front porch, reading his sister’s journal. He hadn’t moved in more than four hours. You took a couple beers from the fridge and wondered outside. Holding out the open bottle to him, Bucky gave a nod of thanks before turning back to the page.

“I think I’m going to order food to be delivered tonight.” You commented. “Pizza okay?”

“Sure.” He didn’t look up.

“What do you want on it?” You asked as you pulled up the order form on your phone.

“Whatever.” He paused. “No pineapple.”

Smiling to yourself, you ordered a large traditional combo and medium veggie. Sitting quietly, you shopped on your phone for some of the stuff you would need for the house. The two of you drank your beers. Bucky continued to read, lost in his sister’s words.

It was easy to sit in silence with this man. You didn’t feel awkward about it. Neither of you said a word until a car pulled up forty minutes later.

A woman climbed out of the dated Honda with a large pizza carrier. She gave a tired smile. “I sure am glad this wasn’t a prank. This place has been empty for years.”

“No prank.” You met her on the porch steps. Her left eye sported the purples and yellows of black eye. “I, ah, I hope you don’t mind that I put your tip on the app. I don’t have any cash on me.”

“That’s great. Thanks.” She opened bag, pulling out the pizzas.

“Looks like that’s painful.” You leaned your head a little. “You okay?”

She nodded, though her body tensed. “Playing with my friends Rottweiler and he accidentally head butted me.” When she looked up, the woman went absolutely rigid. You looked over your shoulder to see Bucky standing at the top of the stairs, his brows drawn together in a hard scowl. The woman swallowed hard. “Here’s your food. Thanks.”

You watched her leave in a hurry.

“She was lying.” Bucky sighed.

Turning, you joined him on the porch. “About the shiner?”

“Yeah. That was made by a fist.” He frowned.

“Maybe she got in a brawl.” You led him back to the kitchen.

“With someone a foot taller than her.” Bucky scoffed as he pulled two more beers from the fridge.

“You could tell that?”

“Most likely a downward hit, judging by the bruise.” He shrugged, tossing the cap into the bin. “What? I know things.”

He dug into the pizza as seriously has he had the sandwiches at lunch. You watched him eat three pieces before you asked. “What do you think of Becca’s journals?”

“I think I would have liked Archie.” Bucky slowed, and picked at the edge of his pizza. “Seems like he really made her happy. She was proud of him, too.”

“Good.” You smiled.

“She missed the city.” He said after her ate more. “Missed going dancing and to the shows.”

“It’d be hard running away from everything you know.” You agreed.

“Becca felt like it was worth it.” He pushed his plate away. “She didn’t want to risk her husband. He was the only family she had left.”

This silence weighed heavy. What could you say? Sorry you were a brain washed assassin for Hydra while your little sister was facing down the mob?

He suddenly stood. “I’m going to read some more. Do you mind leaving that out? I’ll eat more later.”

“Yeah, no problem.” You rinsed off your plate. “I’m going to take a bath and head to bed early. Do you mind locking up?”

“I’ll take care of it.”

You gave him a gentle goodnight and climbed the rear stairs.

He watched you leave. Almost unconsciously, he cleaned up his dinner plate and straightened the kitchen. When the sound of the bathtub filling reached his ear, Bucky leaned heavily on the counter. His face crumpled. His breath turned shallow. It felt like he would explode. Tears burned in his eyes. Sorrow. Relief. Pain. Joy. He had no idea how to process it all. So many conflicting feelings battered his chest from the inside.

A/N:

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Today was a good day. I am not as bone achingly exhausted. I am just mildly tired. So I am pretty pleased about that. Though I am still really excited to go to sleep.

I slept alright last night. I woke up and was just like if bleh. I stretched for a few minutes. And went to get ready for the day.

I liked my outfit. And my face. But my hair is still really bothering me. It is feeling really healthy and that's nice but it's just a little. Flat. And I only feel pretty when it's pulled up. Frustrating for sure. I can't wait for it to cool down so I can wear hats. Hats will make me feel a little better. I also just want my hair to be longer. I did trim it at work yesterday but mostly just my bangs. I don't want to take anything off the bottom. I got all the splits cut off already. So now we just focus on making it healthy and good.

James left for work and I took a few minutes to get myself together. My first stop was to go to the restaurant store. I was nervous but I would get there at 8am and it was neat! I liked looking around at stuff and seeing the large containers of things that are normally in smaller portions.

The guy at the desk was very helpful and I found the coffee percolator and paid for that and headed out. The nice cashier lady carried it outside for me but that wasn't necessary, it wasn't heavy, just a bit awkward in size.

It was a longer drive to work. But I would still beat everyone there getting there before 9.

I went to the lodge first to set up the coffee thing. I collected the old broken one and took it to the recycling shed.a s the. Spent some time talking to Bonnie and petting buddy the dog. It was a nice little way to start the day.

I would have a really productive day. But it was also full of different parts which I liked a lot.

When Heather got in she let me know it was Elizabeth's birthday! Happy birthday Elizabeth! And because it was her birthday we were going to go have breakfast at the filling station together. I was excited. I have never worked at a job where we could just stop and go have breakfast as a group?? That's so cool.

I wasn't even particularly hungry but it was fine. Once Elizabeth got there we would all get in Heather's car (well her daughter Sophie's car, Heather got a flat tire yesterday) and went to the cafe.

I've heard lots of good things from people at camp about the filling station. I was surprised that it was Mexican! I thought it was just a cafe. But I love Mexican and absolutely want to go back.

Me and Heather got savory bagels and Elizabeth got a sausage burrito. They also got lattes and I got an iced Mexican hot chocolate. Which was spicy and lovely. I don't often get to get special drinks because they are usually coffee so this was exciting.

We sat and talked and it was fun. I liked telling stories and hearing theirs. We talked work as well to make it a business expense. It was a beautiful day.

We would stop at the post office before going back to camp. I told them stories about when I worked for the insurance company and how much I loved it but how stressful it was. And how me leaving there lead me to meeting James. Everything happens for a reason.

I would get a lot done when we got back to camp. I worked on some more research. I worked on my lessons. It took a while but I got all my reference images on every project. All 46 pages of them. And added all the supplies for each. Eventually I would start adding Amazon links but I wouldn't get a lot of that done.

But I wasn't just doing one thing. When I would feel myself getting bored I went and did something else.

I would take my two packages up to the art building. It was my little caboodle boxes and now I'm going to be so organized with my supplies. I'm really pleased. I need to get more feathers but I think on Tuesday I'm going to investigate the Yukon basement to see if I can find any there first. And once I was done organizing I started going through my books to decide what ones might be useful for summer. I had to take out any that said they are only read in the winter and put those in a box labeled "winter stories". I also took out any that were written like a grandparent telling a story to a child. Didn't need that meta. Just direct stories please.

I would eventually wander over to homestead. Which I feel like is pretty embarrassing right now. Just a mess. I came up whole a whole list of things to be done to make it not a nonsense area. And would try to collect up some stuff that was left on the ground or in the pens. But it's to much for me to tackle on my own.

So I went back to the office and made a list and started pricing out my projects. When Heather came back from helping clean the pool with Elizabeth I talked to her about it and she thinks getting the boy scouts to help with this is the best course of action and she made me feel really good about my work. That I'm handling the programing and that while they have so much going on they are really happy to have me handling this stuff and following through. That made me feel really good. Really useful.

I would print all the journals I'll need for next week. And after I folded all 60 of those (while listening to a video on YouTube) I took a little break.

I would use my coupon and a sale at Ulta to get two of my lotions for the price of less then one. So that was exciting. I decided to order it for pick up. Something I've never done before. And it stressed me out when after the 2 hours (it was supposed to take) I wasn't sure it was going to be ready to be picked up. Jess said I should just go and it would be fine.

So as the day wound down, after I had made a few walks around camp, went and hung up the blanket I got for decoration in the pueblo, made sure the art building was locked, I headed out.

I went to Ulta in Towson. And they were wildly busy. But as I was waiting in line to ask I got the email that my order was ready so I was directed to the pick up table and they apologized for the delay but I was just happy to have my lotions.

I drove across the street to target next. Where I smelled all the deodorants. I got a jumpsuit for layering, which is something I have been on the lookout for so I was very excited about it. And I found some period underwear. Because on Wednesday I'm getting my IUD out. And I don't know what is going to happen but I am assuming I'll get my period for the first time since 2017. And I got two pairs because the sign said I'll get a $5 gift card.

But apparently I needed the app and the line was really long and once I was directed to guest services the guy was like. Oh you need the app. And I was like it's fine then don't worry about it. And he just quietly got me the gift card and when I told him he was so sweet he got the cutest smile. It's so nice when people are nice.

I got home at 530 and James was at the front door waiting for me. Which made me feel so happy. Because I was kind of emotionally exhausted. And needed to be frustrated and vent for a little. But they made me feel better.

I put on my new jumpsuit and they told me I looked great in it. I can't wait to wear it with sweaters.

James and me would hang up our Halloween decorations and I am thrilled. I love the paper bats on the mantle best. I am also just excited to have the Halloween stuffies out again.

James would walk to get us pizza. I took a shower while they were gone. I got a little upset and just watched videos on the couch and didn't feel my best.

Eating dinner helped a little. Having a little cry helped. I would pack up the bears for the market tomorrow. Talked to Jess about the highlights of our days. And eventually got in bed.

Which is where I am now. I'm going to go brush my teeth soon and try to just go to sleep because I have gotten more tired as I've been writing this. I have a very long day tomorrow. Market and then a break and then a wedding st the museum. I hope to get a little nap in between and that will help me. I hope it's a fun day.

Sleep good everyone. I hope you are taking csre of yourself. Goodnight!

To-Do List: Friday, 23 December 2022

I've been in a slum the last couple of days, mostly because it took four hours to put my bed together on Tuesday, which meant I spent two days barely able to move, let alone get a bunch of housework done.

However, it's almost 7am, I couldn't fall asleep after Critical Role ended, and I have the energy to get stuff done, so get stuff done I shall!

To-Do For the Day

Spend an hour reading. I'm almost done Tevinter Nights, and since I spent the money on Legends & Lattes (kind of a meh book in my opinion honestly, glad I got it on sale), I have to finish it to feel like I didn't waste my money--at least I'm a quick reader.

Pre-treat the stains on my dirty bedding. Merrill put her dirty butt on them, so a little bit of Oxiclean will do them some good.

Deal with all the cardboard from the packages from my bed frame. Little bits can go in the recycling, but the big boxes will have to be broken down and tied up.

Go through the taco pasta recipe and add anything I don't already have onto the grocery list.

Put the dryer back on for a little bit, to freshen up the load that's been in there all night. That way they won't be getting put away as wrinkly.

Put away the clean clothes in my basket.

Yoga session 1: 10-15 minutes. I want to exercise more, and with how my back is, I think breaking it into smaller chunks will be easier.

Work on washing the dirty bedding, so I can have clean sheets for Monday.

Update Notion habit tracker so everything shows up, and also add French practice; while it's not necessary now, that is something I'll be marking off daily in the New Year.

Once Mom goes to work, mix up a face mask and apply for the hell of it.

Shower

Yoga session 2: 5-10 minutes

Most likely spend a few hours playing Destiny, let's be honest.

Yoga session 3: 5-10 minutes when I break from Destiny to feed my parents' cat. Dad usually gives him a bit of food when he gets home, but he's staying with my grandmother tonight because she's paranoid about the storm that's supposed to hit tonight and losing power. Given I'll be the only one home at this point, feeding their cat falls to me.

Where Will Your Business Be in Six Months?

When is the last time you gave yourself space to think about your goals? As many of us are caught up in the day-to-day of running our lives and our businesses, we need to take some time to reflect on a few things:

What are we doing all of this for?

Are we on track?

Without the vision, the action plan, and then making sure we follow the action plan, we aren't likely to make the forward momentum that we should.

If you have 15 minutes right now, grab some paper and a pen - you can make a digital file later if you like, but for now, let's go analog.

Make five big boxes on your paper and label these:

90-Day

6-Month

1-Year

5-Year

10-Year

In a minute, we are going to start making a list!

But Don't Make This Mistake!

But before we dive in, I want to address one challenge that I am faced with a lot when helping my agent clients - the tendency to want to include a commission goal or a transaction count goal. The challenge with this is that you ultimately have no control over this. Instead, I encourage agents to focus on the actions that they are going to take to provide the highest probability of reaching that goal.

For example, an agent told me yesterday her goal was to earn in excess of $300,000 GCI. Instead of including that in her 1-Year Goal, we instead made the goal of starting a farm mailing campaign in her 90-Day Goal category with the goal of providing the additional income needed to get her closer to her GCI goal.

Let's Dive into Your Goals!

90-Day Goals

These would be items on your to-do list over the next 3-months, but don't weigh this list down with all the stuff you are normally going to get done - the purpose of this list is to focus on 2-3 goals max and then to break these down into the steps needed to get there.

For example, let's say you had a goal of cleaning your office. You have a vision right now in your head of what the after of your office should look like when you are done, right? Now jot down a few of the major steps to tackle along the way unless you have the wherewithal to clean the whole thing in one day. Do you have filing and shredding that you need to do? Do you have dead electronics and empty toner cartridges that need to be recycled? Is there a closet in your office that needs attention?

Breaking this up into chunks of about 3-5 hours each allows you to then take this from a 90-Day plan to weekly tasks that you do over the course of several weeks. For example, you could load up the dead electronics and empty toner cartridges into your car today and take them to be recycled tomorrow now that that task is on your radar.

But Denise! Where do I put these weekly goals so I remember to do them?

Great question! If you use a system such as Google Calendar or Outlook Calendar, you can add these as events and block out time so you have the highest likelihood of getting them done. For example, if your Wednesday mornings are generally quiet, why not block off a 3-hour appointment for yourself to get a task done and defend that time! Don't schedule anything else during that time - that is YOUR precious time to get this very important task done.

Without the personal self-discipline to defend your time and get focused, you simply won't achieve your goals. Hoping is not the same thing as taking action.

Got it? Let's move onto 6-Month Goals.

6-Month Goals

These goals are the next set of 90-Day Goals. At the end of the first 90-Days, apply the same treatment to the 6-Month Goals, breaking those up into smaller steps which can then be assigned to different weeks as above.

It is a good idea to also use your quarterly goal check-in to look at some of those more-further-out goals as well. Which of those former 1-Year goals need to get moved up to the 6-Month Goals now that you are 3 months into your 1-Year timeline?

1-Year Goals

People have a tendency to go crazy with their 1-Year Goals and make a huge list. But instead of piling on, what I suggest you do is take a minute and really think about no more than five items that would take your business and client relationships from good to great.

For example, have you always thought about doing a client event, but you just never got around to it? That would be a great 1-Year Goal so next fall, you are well into your client event preparation! Maybe your brokerage isn't working for you anymore and within a year, you would like to be somewhere that is a better fit (but the timing has to be right and you should do ample research before you make a move). What about upgrading your website or developing a listing presentation system?

Really focus on just a few items that will make your business more profitable, efficient, and more you!

Encore: Real Estate Coaching

FREE CONSULTATION or LEARN MORE HERE

5 and 10-Year Goals

These goals will depend on where you are in your career timeline. For example, some of my client agents are starting to think about retirement or at least having enough passive income to step away from their business when they like. Therefore, these goals often involve having some sort of a team or at least strong real estate professionals that they can collaborate with. They are thinking of ways to increase referral dollars and building a “referralment,” not retirement!

Additionally, many of my agent clients are thinking about how they can replace their real estate income without working full-time. Making a plan now to purchase real estate investments for cash flow, appreciation, or both, can be lucrative, but smart investment decisions don't usually happen by accident.

Set a Date

At this point, you may have figured out that what you really need is to set a date with yourself once per quarter to reassess your goals. This is the first week of October now - the last quarter of the year! By starting this now, you are set up to make your next 90-Day plan the first week of January - such a great time of year for reflection and goal-setting!

It is also important to remember that at this time next year, your 5-Year and 10-Year goals are now 4 and 9 years away. Without staying on top of your goals and making incremental progress, 2028 and 2033 will be here before you know it. I mean, don't 2018 and 2013 feel like yesterday?

One of the greatest things about having clear goals is that it allows people to make decisions easier. Whether you are deciding to watch an extra hour of TV or to go to bed to be refreshed the next day, to accept a reduced commission listing, or to learn something new that opens a new set of clients - every choice makes a difference and will affect your goals. Make sure your actions today are aligned with your goals tomorrow.

By Denise Lones CSP, M.I.R.M., CDEI - The founding partner of The Lones Group, Denise Lones, brings nearly three decades of experience in the real estate industry. With agent/broker coaching, expertise in branding, lead generation, strategic marketing, business analysis, new home project planning, product development, Denise is nationally recognized as the source for all things real estate. With a passion for improvement, Denise has helped thousands of real estate agents, brokers, and managers build their business to unprecedented levels of success, while helping them maintain balance and quality of life.

The recycled motorcycle looks a bit like this it doesn't have two batteries and the tank looks normal I can BASF tank it's really cool and we had an idea to check out the pricing of the recycled motorcycles and smaller motorcycle this one's not a full size bike but for you it'd be pretty big if you're a Mac it not pretty big but normal sized like a Chinese sport bike size they're decent sized and it looks normal on our son and we want to use the bat pod system to steer it and to design it and build it it's a different design the motor is a small compartment the seat is right above the motor and it's a better design it's like a center motor in a car I'm going to shielding for your butt and it works and we tested it out on the recycled motorcycle and it holds the wheel on better and they're easier to build and it's faster and we make a frame that's simpler and square is not easier by the way it's harder and it is the fastest assembly you've ever seen because it only has a few parts to the frame it shaved some money off the recycled motorcycle is now approximately $2,000 instead of $2,500 and we did the Chinese method on a lot of parts it saved the money and that's why it's less expensive and it's a full size motorcycle with a 300cc motor and it looks a little bit light and it is even with the towels on but it handles better and it goes faster top speed is about 400 miles per hour fresh out of the box the electric is about $2,200 top speed is about 450 and you get about 300 miles at regular speed and 15 minute charge. The smaller version would be less expensive than the incredibly cheap numbers that we gave out the standard number what's going to be about $450 that was for the mini bike and this is a different one that one has gears too but the less expensive version which is a smaller bike for this particular recyclable motorcycle is about $1,500 and that has a 110cc Briggs & Stratton or Coleman depending on who sell it her or him. And we're working for our people now it's much more pleasant. Now we are going to sell these in like hotcakes and the price is being reduced and our son and daughter say we need to send out all the models to Mac and the military for proper testing and to write up write ups on it and we want to send it to race tracks and so forth and dirt tracks and we want to set that up with a Mac and Ben Arnold too if you if Mac wants it says yeah and we're going to set it up and we're going to do full testing and get pro races to comment on it and the sentence in and we're going to do we already did the snow type stuff safety and durability and it meets and beats all the criteria of the dot and we're getting a DOT approved but we want to do the steering system and make sure this is a huge leap these bikes will be different and everyone will want one it's very cheap and it should be cheap it's really intense but it's simple as hell and we came up with it he and I so we're going to go ahead with it and that was Hera that last paragraph and he's in there a little but for crying out loud you can't be the price and you can't beat the bike it is recycled materials that's why it's less expensive if we did use recycled materials and standard bike would be 3,000 which is still a very decent price but it's nothing affordable we're selling all of them at the recycler bike company and we want to sell them in California and we're thinking about the name recycled bike or recycler bike company or recycled by company doesn't sound too good but he says recycler bike company because we recite their and their bikes, we'll draw crowds who think that we're assembling bikes out of parts of bikes and why they're so cheap and it still work and we find it hard for them we're going to go ahead with that and we're going to set up these shops out there and it'll be a test but it'll work I'm sure

Frank Castle hardcastle

This is incredible we have tons of work to do and we're doing this and he says it raises the Army and go ahead and do it

Duke Nukem Blockbuster

I'm very satisfied with this performance this morning is doing extremely well did some things to do but this is intense he's my favorite person right now

Hera

Olympus

[ad_1] I am not an especially picky eater. In fact, I’d say I’m pretty much down for anything so long as there are no beets or olives involved. But I can be particular about the way in which my food is served, especially if it involves dishes that are at all saucy or sloshy. I know I’m not alone. A lot of people are grossed out by the foods on their plate touching. And for years, I would ladle portions of braised greens or buttered corn into separate bowls to keep their juices off my mashed potatoes, a system that is both impractical at my tiny dining table and annoying when it’s time to do dishes. But now, when I’m worried about my brothy beans touching my roast chicken, I simply turn to my stash of divided plates. Most of us think divided plates are for children, but that’s a pretty limited view. After all, bento boxes are popular around the world for people of all ages who eat lunch. Still, I felt a little silly adding this four-pack of reusable divided plates, made from recycled materials and sold in chic muted pastels, to my cart. When they arrived, though, I was totally sold. Not only were they a cute addition to my random collection of dishware, they were eminently practical. No longer do I have to wash three different bowls for myself, just because I don’t want my entree and side dishes to touch. A good divided plate will have a bigger area for the main dish, plus at least two smaller segments where you can tuck in your side dishes. There are even some tray-shaped plates that have additional smaller sections perfect for condiments and garnishes. You might feel a little dorky at first, using what is essentially a cafeteria tray in your own home, but there’s no denying the practical appeal or the tidiness of this approach. They’re also great for those occasions when you’re eating a bunch of random snacks as a meal, or when you’re just throwing a bunch of leftovers from the fridge on a plate and into the microwave to heat up simultaneously. And fortunately, there are a slew of divided plates out there that will fit your kitchen’s aesthetic, whether you’re into sleek minimalism or kitschy cat decor. Unfortunately, many of the adult-sized divided plates on the market are sold as “portion control plates,” even if they don’t explicitly have portion sizes written out on the actual plates. Those are gross relics of diet culture, and have no place in your kitchen. But the description on the website is easy enough to ignore, and nothing should make you feel weird about putting any amount of whatever you want on your own dinner plate. In the month or so since buying my divided plates, I honestly can’t imagine how I lived without them. I find myself reaching for them even when I’m only eating one thing, just so there’s a perfect place waiting for me when I inevitably decide that I want a little something extra on the side. Sign up for the Sign up for Eater's newsletter The freshest news from the food world every day [ad_2] Source link

Blog Post 5. Part 2

Sketch models/Updates from 5R's critique

I did my sketch model mockup after the 5Rs brainstorming. I made my cylinder shape into a decagon (which has ten sides). I chose my cylinder shape to have flat sides in the hopes that it would stay upright in the car cup holder better. The cup holder has a smaller circumference at the bottom and then changes in two increments into a larger circumference at the top. My package bottom in the flat digital version has the same circumference as the bottom of the cup holder. The top of the package has the same circumference as the top of the cup holder. I did this in hopes of stabilizing the box better. I struggled with making the bottom flaps of the package, and when putting together the model, the flaps did not line up correctly. I also found making the shape have ten sides too excessive and didn’t help with stability much. I think I will scrap the top round cardboard part that the flower stems go through. This is because the circle would not stop the flowers from falling through when hanging the flowers upside down to dry afterwards.

I have decided to make some changes to my prototype for next week. The shape will be more vase-like to balance the flowers more securely in the cup holder. I will also get rid of the top lid part and scrap the idea of drying the flowers upside down. INSTEAD, I will stick with the flower-pressing idea to make things more simple. The package will have windows made of recycled acrylic on both sides. Afterwards, when you want to press and preserve your flowers, you can use the two acrylic windows and make a flower frame out of them. The elastics from the flowers will secure the acrylic panes together. The rest of the package can be put in the ground to sprout more flowers.

Next week, my prototype and design will have instructions to show a buyer how to use their package correctly. I realize there is a lot for me to do before the next class, but I am determined after identifying the flaws in my previous design.

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Map of Amity Park

So I did a bunch of research and traced over the map the GIW had in DCMH and extended it to try and build a map of Amity Park. I also paid close attention to locations and places named in canon. I am by no means an artist, map maker, photoshop pro, or civil engineer; I just wanted a general reference map for the phandom to use. 

Here is where I place Amity Park. We know AP isn’t in Michigan or Wisconsin, but is most likely a day drive away from Madison (Bitter Reunions). AP is a decent sized city of itself, so I can see it being an outskirt of a large city like Chicago. Lancer mentions the Northwestern Testing, and Northwestern University is in Evanston, IL, which is why I placed it where it is.

LIST OF PLACES (in great detail): 

Every city needs it’s basic services: energy supply, water supply, sewage, and trash/recycling. These of course are located more on the edge of the city, as they need a large amount of space and are typically isolated.

I placed a local airport in the city as well. Typically you would fly out of one of Chicago’s airports anyway, but private planes (Vlad, Mansons, etc.) can take off and land here. 

University of Amity Park is located at the north side of the city, and is home to a Nasty Burger location, an LGBT Center, and is probably near a gas station. The blocks surrounding the campus are more student housing. 

Near the University, we have the Science Center, Axion Labs, a Mental Institute, and the Museum, as a lot of research from the University would go into those places. 

In the more isolated areas, we have the Penitentiary, the abandoned North Mercy Hospital, and the GIW Headquarters. 

The Zoo is located on the north side of the park and is also close to the University for research purposes.

The Observatory is also located in a more isolated area, so you can actually see the stars without a bunch of light pollution.

Going into the center of town, where most things are actually located:

A community college, which is near the internet cafe where Danny and Tucker play games, a gas station, a liquor store, a thrift shop, a Planned Parenthood, Java Jive (the coffee shop), a tech store, and a gym. 

We also have a shoe store, the hunting goods store and Guitar Palace that Skulker and Ember take over in Reign Storm, the U-Ship Box Store the Box Ghost takes over, a barber and a hardware store.

There is a hair salon, tanning salon, and nail salon, where Paulina frequents. There is also Elmer’s Pharmacy, a dentist office, a law office, the TV repair store, butcher shop, and pet store (which we see next to each other in an episode), a toy store, and a vet office.

Government buildings include City Hall, a public library, a court house, a DMV, a bus station (for all mass transit in the city), a community center (likely where town halls are located and other smaller events; Ida plays bingo here every week), and a retirement home. 

There is also the post office, Amity Park Fire Department, a bank, the 24K Jewelry shop, a nearby ice cream shop, and another Nasty Burger location (this is the one right by Casper High that the trio usually hangs at). Also an animal shelter, a grocery store, and a pizza joint.

Education: there is a preschool and daycare, the elementary school, a playground/park, the middle school (yes, a Beetlejuice reference), and Casper High. Casper High campus also has the track, a fieldhouse, and the football field. 

Moving towards Amity Park Mall:

Bucky’s Music Mega Store, an apartment complex, Amity Park Police Department, a bookstore, doctor clinic, gas station, a Denny’s (where Phight Club happens), Material Grill restaurant, the mini golf course and bowling alley, Freddy Fazbear’s (which is actually a horror video game, but here it’s a kids pizza place like Chuck E. Cheese), a furniture store, a party supply store, and the movie theater (which is Marmel’s Multiplex 22, Amity Park Multiplex, and Googolplex Cinemas...it seems that they go to the same movie theater throughout the series and the names just change, or these could also be other movie theaters in the area (like near the college campus). I just picked Multiplex 22 cause it sounded very mall-y).

Along the interstate, there’s a pawn shop, a publishing house (which somehow prints all 5 of Amity Park’s newspapers), a homeless shelter, the diner, Safe House Motel, a laundromat, the 89¢ Store (a nod to Fanning the Flames), and the car dealership.

Also near the mall is Amity Arena, which hosts concerts, sports events, and other large entertainment events. There is a hotel near both the arena and the hospital (the one that isn’t abandoned and haunted). Towards the outskirts of the hospital, there’s a trailer park; north a few blocks is the TV station, where News 4 is headquartered. There’s also a construction site near Amity Arena, but that kinda went out the window when Undergrowth hit. 

On the other side of town, we have:

A-Mart, a convenience store. I named it like this because it can be like an offshoot of KMart, but A for Amity! 

Floody Waters, right off the interstate.

North of Floody Waters, East of Casper High, we have the main residences: the Foley household and only a couple blocks away is Fenton Works. 

There’s also another gas station and the Amity Park Radio Station nearby. There’s also a private school near ultra posh Polter Heights, but the A-Listers attend Casper High because the private school doesn’t have a football or cheerleading team.

Moving into Polter Heights and the surrounding area:

The Polter Heights Golf Course and Country Club are exclusive to those in the neighborhood, as well as their private neighborhood pool; members only. 

The Mayor’s Mansion (eventually Vlad’s) is located in here too.

All of the A-Listers’ houses are of course in this neighborhood, as well as Val’s previous residence and the Fenton’s temporary mansion from Living Large (which is of course right next door to Vlad, but with some distance, because the rich are always socially distancing with their big houses).

Polter Heights is adjacent to a bunch of farmland (this is the midwest, we like cows and stuff), and there is a church close by as well.

Just outside Polter Heights is the Manson Mansion (with Sam’s greenhouse). Lucky for Sam, the Skulk and Lurk Books and an occult shop are just down the street. The Manson residence is also near a funeral home and graveyard (how did Sam get so lucky? Oh, because I love her), a synagogue, Mario’s restaurant, and a dry cleaners. 

We get more spacious as we get away from the center of town! 

Along the shore of Lake Eerie, there are the docks which are home to many warehouses, including the mattress factory.

Also along the shoreline, there is a pier which doubles as an amusement park (think kinda like Navy Pier in Chicago in comparison) and alongside the pier is the public beach area. 

Camp Skull and Crossbones is located on the other side of Lake Eerie, and the fishing area is more on the north side of the lake. Lake Eerie is not one of the Great Lakes, it’s just its own thing in Amity Park. 

Back towards the park, we have event grounds space, which is where Circus Gothica is located, as well as the Meet Swap and flea market. Basically whatever rotating event hits town, it comes right here. Just next door is a theatre (for music, opera, Broadway, etc.). There is also the third and final Nasty Burger location in AP.

This is all surrounding the actual park Amity Park, which has a pond, a big fountain, and also hosts that really big hill that overlooks City Hall.

On the south side, across the bridge and over the interstate is Elmerton, where Val currently is resided. 

All the other blocks are filled with more office buildings, apartment complexes, houses, and businesses, but all of the main places are already listed and placed. 

Finally, yes, I did name some places for myself and my friends because they’re great and they deserve it. These include Steph’s (mine) Occult Shoppe, Nick’s Liquor Emporium (@ecto-american), Lexx R Us Toystore (@lexosaurus and appropriately named after the Lexxpocalypse), Laz’s Law Offices LLC (@kinglazrus), Dee’s Dentistry (@qlinq-qhost​), Lily’s Looks Thrift Store (@dannyphantomisameme​), Ceci’s Funeral Home (@ceciliaspen​), Vic’s Amusement Park (@babypop-phantom​), and Reverie Books (@wastefulreverie​). 

While the easy answer to cleaning up the earth may be “Just recycle!” unfortunately, it is not that simple. Many areas do not have recycling plants available or nearby. In my own neighborhood, to be part of the recycling route, you have to pay a monthly subscription, which not everyone can afford. 

Because of this, I have found myself becoming increasingly creative in the ways that I reduce waste. Below are some of my most practical tips.

1.) Containers!

Containers are very easy to reuse--whether its a glass jam jar upcycled into a trendy coffee cup, or an old mayo jar being reused as a craft supply holder, containers are my favorite reusable item. I have washed out plastic ice cream tubs and used them as flour/sugar containers and as planters. Tin cans become cute pencil holders and planters with a coat of exterior paint or a ribbon. I have used vitamin/pill bottles as bathroom organizers for Q-Tips, tweezers, and make up brushes. Cutting a milk jug in half and covering the exterior with a colorful cloth makes a handy sock/underwear organizer. The possibilities are endless!

2.) Paper Goods!

Instead of throwing away paper, look for ways to reuse and donate! Many cat shelters use newspapers for their litter box liners and are glad to take the newspapers off your hands. There are DIY tutorials online about how to make a pet mat with newspapers and fabric, also a great item to donate to shelters! Make sure to call and check with the shelter to see if they need these items before beginning any project, though. Paper can also be reused to make fire starters, beads, decoupage material, and paper mâché. You can shred it and use it as small pet bedding, as well.

3.) Plastic Bags!

It is incredibly sobering to see so many photos of plastic bags in landfills, in oceans, and around the necks of our wildlife. Easy to make and easy to throw away, plastic bags are easily a castaway product that is easier to use and not think about. After seeing my own plastic bag usage, I realized I needed to make a change. I cut plastic bags into loops, connect, and roll them into balls of “Plarn” (plastic yarn). I have been crocheting the plarn into containers and reusable grocery totes. While the prep work is a bit time consuming, making plarn is still a lot of fun, and its the perfect fidget task for me while I watch movies.

4.) Clothes!

Clothes are one of the slower biodegradable items, with the plastics of common day production making breaking down difficult. Instead of tossing out a shirt with a rip in it, or a pair of shorts with a stain, look for ways to repair it first. Sewing a flower over a stain, or using a cute stitch to seam up a tear is a great way to add character and longer life to your clothes. If clothes no longer fit or are too damaged to repair, many thrift stores (or craft clubs!) will accept them. I like to donate clothes to smaller, personally owned thrift shops before large chain shops, but any type of donating keeps clothes out of landfills! If there are no thrift shops that accept donations, churches, benefit clubs, and homeless shelters often accept items into their closets so they can give them to people who need it directly. Sometimes food kitchens will collect clothes so when visitors get a free meal, they can also get a free shirt if they need one.

5.) Electronics!

Electronics are easier to donate, if recycling is not possible, with many pick up locations by large stores or busy areas. If there are no pick up/drop off electronic places, local high schools, trade schools and the like will also accept electronics (working or not) for the students to tinker with. Women’s shelters and assisted living centers also accept (working) electronics, even if they are older. Many occupants need devices or tech related items to help them apply for jobs or learn new skills, and often these places don’t have enough to go around. Depending on what electronic you are trying to dispose of, you could use the frame (like a computer frame) as a cute planter or quirky garden decor, or paint it into an artistic piece. 

These are just a few of the tips I have picked up along the way! Happy reusing and recycling, SolarPunks! Let me know what you have reused or how you have recycled it.

Return to Sender: (Richard Alonso Muñoz x GN reader)

What is this? This is 4/10 one-shots/blurbs for my “friends to lovers” event. I’m not gonna share the prompt as it’s spoilery, but it was requested by @sergeantkane​ who is a genius for picking this combo! It’s a prompt about LOVE LETTERS! Omg! And thus, it matches perfectly with Richard (trust me, I had NOT made that connection when I made the prompt list :P). Thank you so much for requesting, Clarke, and I hope you enjoy it. I’m excited about this one!

If you’d like to read/keep track of the other fics, I’m keeping an up-to-date friends to lovers list in my pinned post.

Author’s note: Oh, I really quite like this one. Hope it makes you feel as soft as I did for Richard while writing it! Also- it’s my first bash at writing him, so let me know what you think! Thanks to everyone who helped with film details too: those not already tagged in the post- @prurientpuddlejumper​ @witchyavenger​ @veuliee2​ @waatermelon-sugaar​ @pascal-isaac​

Word count: 4.5 k. So not a blurb, then? :P

Rating: Mature, for light steam (not explicit, but 18+ or out, please!)

Warnings: mentions of food/eating. Mild angst (but it ends well), Steamy. Kissing, brief non-explicit mention of erection. Implied coitus (cut scene). Richard works in a “correctional facility”. Small mention of attempted break-in. If I missed any let me know.

Tagging: @anetteaneta​ @isvvc-pvscvl​ @nowritingonthewall​ @supernovafeather​ (ONLY READ IF 18+)

GIF by @nathan-bateman​

“Have you ever received a love letter?” Richard wonders shyly, without looking up from his crossword puzzle, his long eyelashes fanned out as his gaze dances over the monochrome squares.

Meanwhile, your eyes snap up immediately from your magazine, which you are idly leafing through, a breath catching in your chest.

You bristle at the question, and yet Richard seems either entirely oblivious, or entirely determined not to look-up at you. Perhaps both. So, instead of looking, he simply slurps the dregs of his milkshake, and pushes his plate of waffle remnants further toward the far end of the diner booth.

When he finally raises his gaze – a gentle prompt for you to answer him- his eyes are large and shining under the fluorescent lights as he peers at you over his glass, dabbing at his thick moustache with a paper napkin shortly after.

“No, never,” you state sadly, heeding his prompt with a small smile and a shake of your head. Not even a love e-mail.

“I’m surprised,” he flatters with a cautious smile. And, if you’re not mistaken, his eyes light-up with the faintest trace of desire. The barest undercurrent of passion, which is enough to have your heart beating like a drum. You notice it sometimes; this dull heat emanating off of him. It is a spark which never ignites, however - to your endless disappointment; you would fan that flame if only you knew how.

You swallow. He’s surprised? He can’t be that surprised, you think, a stone sinking through your stomach as you dwell too long on the topic of love letters, and meanwhile, Richard’s attention seamlessly diverts back to 3 across.

“You deserve one,” he says, still looking at the page, but a smile animating his wiry moustache. “A letter.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, a spiralling sadness catching hold of you. Does he not understand what this is doing to you? This painful reminder? “Can we drop it, Richard?” you say tensely, and when his eyes meet yours again, they are even more soft and cautious than usual, causing you to admonish yourself for the bite in your tone.

“Yes,” he says. “Of course,” he smiles thinly, apologetically.

It’s simply the new job, you think. Director of Communications. The man has letters on the brain. Richard is so considerate, that you realise he must not intend to hurt you in dredging up the past; he would never. In a way though, you think, it’s even worse that he brings it up so… casually. You can only conclude he has forgotten that you sent your letter to him at all. Had your heartfelt words, declaring your love, had so little impact on him?

Maybe that’s it. After all, they seemed to have so little impact upon him at the time. What could you expect years later? On the other hand, you -apparently- remain rather sore about the topic, all this time later. It’s natural to be sensitive though, isn’t it? You’d written him a love letter and he didn’t write you back. He didn’t say it back. Didn’t feel it back.

And, perhaps it still stings so much, even all these years later, because you never did stop loving him, even if he never started loving you.

Feeling a sudden, overwhelming haste to leave, you thumb through the pages of your magazine so furiously that the next table turn their heads to look at you, until you find what you were searching for.

“Here, Richard. The article I mentioned. Dramatherapy for people who are incarcerated.”

You fold the magazine back on itself, fobbing it off on him with an unprecedented urgency, hurriedly signalling to the waitress that you’d like the check. The roomy diner booth suddenly feels suffocating, and you want to get out. Meanwhile, oblivious, Richard chuckles at the title of the article -some kind of pun, you recall- as you try to push down the unpleasant emotions surfacing within you.

“Thank you for this,” he smiles, looking up at you earnestly. Looking concerned as he reads the expression on your face. “Are you alright?”

Your eyes fix on the table, where his fingertips inch hesitantly across the surface, hovering moments from yours as he debates whether to extend comfort. You make the decision for him, snatching your hand back from his reach.

“Yes. I’m Fine,” you say, unconvincingly. “Can we please go? I need some fresh air.”

“Alright,” Richard agrees gently. He looks a little flustered, but, now sensing your urgency, he begins to sweep up his papers and to shrug on his jacket. He pulls out a small comb to fix his neat curls in place, and offers you a soft smile. “Maybe we can go to the park next?” he suggests.  

As much as you want to run, you nod, some of your agitation dissipating now that the prior topic seems to be forgotten. “Okay. Yeah. That would be nice.” You school your expression into something calm, and you offer him a reassuring smile as his soulful eyes dance over you, a lingering but unobtrusive concern there.

As you split the check, you tell yourself for the millionth time that being his friend is enough; but even after the millionth time, you can’t quite believe it.

Still, today -Sunday- is your one day with him this week. And, no matter what you can’t have; you’ll take anything you can get.

He’s too dear to you to settle for anything less.

************

One month later:

You crouch in amongst the boxes on Richard’s front lawn. He is having a clear-out, setting out some items for goodwill, and some for a neighbourhood yard sale happening next weekend.

You are having fun assisting him in sifting through various items, occasionally bursting into a fit of laughter when he reveals yet another ill-informed, late night shopping channel “bargain” – usually some new-fangled, scarcely-used exercise contraption, which he proceeds to demonstrate in good-humour, making you fold over clutching your stomach in mirth. Occasionally, as you rifle through the boxes, you’ll be overcome by a pang of sentimentality when he uncovers an item with a memory attached; and -no matter how useless- he usually sneaks said item into his ever-growing “to-keep” pile.

“But this is the picnic hamper we took to Bound Beach Island! For your birthday, remember?”  

“Yeah, Richard, but it’s battered! It has holes! It needs to go.”

“It was a beautiful day. The light and the dunes were beautiful… and… and y-“

“-Oh my goodness, what is this?! Please for the love of God tell me you never actually wore this!”

You work through the midday sun until you come to a tired, dead halt on the grass, finally parking your ass down and wiping your brow. Richard looks warm too, a “v” of sweat soaking his old, oversized “Save the Turtles” t-shirt. No - he really doesn’t throw anything away. You smile fondly, though, remembering his sea turtle phase. Of course, he’d read some article. He always was looking for a cause.

“I’ll make us some iced tea,” Richard announces with a tired puff of breath, looking more spent than he probably wants to admit after shuttling the various boxes. Still, the way his grizzled curls have fallen away from his harsh side-part appeals to you, sitting disobedient and undone on his forehead.

Thinking of him undone, you hear a faint beating of drums sound in your chest.

You ignore the music though, like always, instead smiling gratefully as he heads inside, and you take a second to collect yourself before dragging the nearest box towards you, deciding you may as well continue. This next box is taped securely shut, and you chuckle quietly to yourself when you notice it’s labelled “workout-gear”.

You peel the packing tape away and open it up, scooping out the pile of miscellaneous papers sitting right on top. Beginning to leaf through, you surmise it’s mainly unopened junk mail; mainly garishly printed promotional flyers - from a pizzeria which closed down years ago, you recognise. Probably hastily stuffed in before his last move and never dealt with. Absent-mindedly, you begin to bundle it up for the recycling pile, when a smaller, more humble envelope drops out on to your lap, a hand-scrawled address on the front. The stationary is resoundingly familiar.

In fact, everything about it is familiar.

Your heart hammers in your chest as it immediately dawns on you.

It’s your letter.

The letter you sent him, all those years ago. You’d needed to be apart from him- needed to go away to take care of family, and you simply couldn’t go without letting him know. Letting him know you were in love with him.

The memory is like a slow knife sinking into your chest as you idly turn it over in your hands.

But… It can’t be…?

It’s… unopened.

All the air leaves you lungs.

No. No. It doesn’t make a shred of sense.

You’d spoken to him right afterward, on the phone. The first time he’d called after you left town he’d almost pleaded with you, giving you an unequivocally clear, and endlessly painful answer that he didn’t want what you wanted. What you’d written about. He’d made it abundantly obvious that he simply wanted to be friends. “I- I don’t want anything to change. I want everything to stay exactly like it is between us – please? Can we still talk every day?”

But if he didn’t read it…?

You heart pounds so hard that you hear blood rushing in your ears.

He doesn’t know.

His words didn’t mean what you…

Oh my god. All this time.  

You shoot abruptly to standing when you see him approach, as if you’ve been caught red-handed, guiltily stuffing the letter into your back pocket before he can ask you what it is, an abundance of thoughts screaming in your head.

He hands you the glass of tea, ice tinkling gently, and you take it from him, the coolness shocking your palms.

Assessing what you’ve been up to in his absence, and noting the carcass of another box, Richard glances down at the pile of papers strewn at your feet. He looks suddenly worried for a moment, as if you might have found an old porn stash or something – and he looks just as suddenly relieved when he sees they are more innocent papers, scooping them up from the grass.

“Richard?” you say, your eyes burning a hole in the back of his head, and the letter burning a hole in your pocket as he drops the items into the recycling. He hums for you to go on. “Do you... You know when I moved away...?” your voice is strained, and you gulp hard. “Just before, do you remember getting any unusual letters or... weird post from me?”

“Like what kind of thing?” he asks curiously, turning back to you.

“I don’t know exactly,” you lie, nervously. “I have a feeling I sent you something? A sappy goodbye thing?”

You see him mull it over, combing his impressive moustache with his fingers. “I don’t remember, sorry. But apparently I was drowning in junk mail at that apartment. Maybe it got lost, or returned to sender?”

Despite everything, you exhale a small laugh. In a roundabout way, you suppose it had been returned to sender after all. You look at the ground.

“Was it important?” he asks, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand as he looks at you.

Biding time, you take a sip of your tea while you search for an answer. It’s refreshing.

“It… Uh. It was a long, long time ago. Doesn’t matter now, I suppose,” you muse, masking your sadness, and he nods, looking at least half-satisfied with your answer.

Except, it does matter. It matters more than anything. And, with a sudden, overwhelming need to grab on to the past, you track to the “to go” box, rescuing the battered picnic basket from the pile of junk.

“You shouldn’t get rid of this,” you state, your back to Richard, hoping he doesn’t notice the way your voice falters. You tense as you feel him settle by your side, his hand hovering tentatively at the small of your back but never quite touching. “It was a beautiful day.”

“No,” he insists. “You’re right. I shouldn’t hang on to it.”

His words are like a punch in the gut. You turn your head to your side, where Richard is, your eyes and heart almost overflowing.

Noting your sadness, and connecting it to the picnic basket, he does everything he can to smooth things over, like always. “We can get a new one,” he says, his brown eyes sweet and hopeful and bright.

You love him. You love him still and you can’t help but turn towards him and reach out your arms, dragging him in for a hug.

“No! No, I’m sweaty,” he protests self-consciously, but you don’t care. You just need to hold him, even only for a moment – and, for a moment he stills as you loop around him, never quite clutching you back.

When you pull away though, you could swear that dim spark of passion is present in his eyes again. That spark that never catches, no matter how much or how often or how hard you wish it would. Oh, how you wish.

“Don’t ever change, Richard,” you say sincerely, your voice imbued with fondness. “Okay? You’re a sweet, wonderful man.”

His eyes are immediately soft and bashful again, the colour of his cheeks deepening a little, a crimson undertone blooming under his brown skin.

“Yes. Okay,” he offers, with a nod, his eyes creasing at the corners, and his posture even bolstered by the compliment, you could swear, his chest puffing out proudly.

For the rest of the afternoon, you ignore the unread words in the back of your pocket; but for the life of you, you can’t ignore those drums.

************

One month later:

You bundle the yapping, happy little white dog into your arms, relieved that she’s okay as her little tail happily beats against your arm.

“Are you okay, Lady?” you coo as she nuzzles her snoot into your face, eagerly lapping little kisses on to your cheek. “Thanks goodness, sweet little floof,” you baby-talk as your eyes quickly scan around Richard’s place, setting his spare key down on the kitchen counter.

You’d barrelled across town to get here, after receiving a call about an attempted break-in. His neighbour to the left had your contact details in case of an emergency -it’s not very easy to reach him at work, of course- so here you are. You came to give things a quick checking over, assured that no-one suspicious had continued to loiter. Richard won’t be much longer -his shift has nearly ended, and you’d left him a voicemail so you’re sure he’ll hurry- but you still thought you’d go on ahead of him, especially so that he wouldn’t worry about Lady.

Looking around, thankfully all seems well, and you don’t think anyone made it inside after all. Slowly then, you allow your nerves to calm and your heart to settle, bouncing the little bundle of fur in your arms, and feeding her a treat from the packet on top of the microwave, just in case she’d been stressed out.

Calming, you can’t help but smile as you look around, absorbing all the little details of Richard. You do hang out in his apartment a fair amount, but most often you will meet or sit outdoors, when the weather allows. After all, he loves to feel the sun and fresh air on his face, especially after spending all day cooped-up in windowless rooms. To you though, this Richard-ness is like a breath of fresh air, and you let it all wash over you, drinking in the details of his simple daily routine. The discarded half-plate of frijoles and rice by the sink. The ironing-board piled with identical uniform-issue shirts, pants, and plain white t-shirts. The photos on the fridge door – some of you and him too.

Doing a lap of the living space, you further note the dining-for-one TV table, evidence of his relatively solitary existence, and you can almost see him sitting there. Can almost hear his soft voice relating the far-fetched storylines of his favourite telenovelas. You imagine him chuckling warmly - perhaps shedding a tear sometimes too.

You decide you should pop your head into the bedroom and bathroom to check there too, for good measure, and you set Lady down, the dog trotting along at your heels. Once you’ve done a loop, you sigh, seeking out a fresh task, and you circle back to the sink, scraping his discarded plate and rinsing it, stacking it in the dishrack. Then, you move towards the TV chair, intending simply to sit yourself down and wait for Richard to come home. After all, you’re here now - you may as well say hello; or, maybe you can even prepare him dinner after his long shift, you muse.

As you revisit the small, rickety table, however, your eyes more keenly notice that a bunch of papers are strewn over it, all identical- a series of pastel pink leaves of paper and envelopes.

Letters.

Handwritten, in his familiar scrawl.

Letters addressed to you.

Your brow furrows in confusion, as you wonder what they could be. You don’t want to invade his privacy, of course, but perhaps this is something that’s meant for you? After all, sometimes he leaves you notes when you come over to feed or walk Lady.  

Still, this feels different, and, with a lump in your throat that you don’t quite understand, you pick up one of the leaves at random, skimming the first line, yet feeling only more confused than you did before.  

You see your name at the head of the paper, followed by the words “my dearest love,”, and underneath, some other half-formed paragraphs, scribbled over and crossed out.

No, you shake your head, your stomach flipping over. That can’t be right, you think, even as your fingers scramble for another leaf - for leaf upon leaf, until you piece together what’s going on. Until, with every line you read, fragments of both English and Spanish, you feel as though you are piecing together his heart.

Could it be true? Is this really true?

Your fingers dive for a sheet more developed that the rest, where you see paragraphs of writing, and you devour the words like you are starved of love; for you are, aren’t you? Starved? And yet, you suddenly feel so full. Brimming.

My darling,

There are infinite ways to fall in love. Some are elemental, like a raging fire. A shock of lightning on first sight. Some are slow-burning and constant, the heat of friendship warming your hearth, defrosting your iced fingertips when you come in from the cold.

There are infinite ways to fall in love, and I should know, my heart, as I have experienced every one of them with you.

You can barely read the rest as tears blur your eyes, and your hand comes to clamp over your mouth as realisation sinks through to the pit of you, the page quaking -like a leaf- in your fingers.

You make my heart beat like a drum. When I look at you, I am music, without being played. When you’re with me I am dancing, without movement. If only you would touch my skin, I feel like I would sing. If only you would-

“-Are you safe? Are you alright?” Richard asks from behind you, and you tear your eyes away from the page with a start. You were so absorbed by this swell of beating music that you didn’t hear the scrape of his key in the lock. You didn’t hear his hurried footsteps coming up behind you.  

“Richard,” you suspire, and for once his touch is on you without hesitation, his hands clasped around each of your shoulders, slowly running down your arms, and you nod quickly to reassure him, your mouth opening wordlessly. You’re safe.

His touch is warm through your clothes, and you think he is right- your skin would sing for him too if he touched you. Your love rattles you, like drums beating musically in your chest, pulsing through your body.

Then, Richard clocks your sideward, guilty glance at the pile of letters, and you see his panic instantly surface at the thought of all his unsent and unspoken words laid bare before you. All the pieces of his heart exposed.

At first, he looks apologetic, but then you step forwards a little more, into the circle of his arms. Arms which suddenly fall, unsure, at his sides once again. And, achingly slow, endlessly sure, you lift up you hand and you place it on his chest, over his heart, smoothing over his shirt and over the cool metal of the shield he wears there. You feel his heart really is beating like a drum. His chest is rising and falling beneath your hand, his breath quickened – eyes nervous.

You step a little closer, and your fingers continue their slow crawl, dancing up around his collar, inching further up until your fingers finally brush the bare skin at the nape of his neck, pushing up into the curls behind his ears, your thumb skimming his sideburn. You touch him, with your fingertips, and he does sing for you, a half-choked moan leaving his mouth at your tender caress.

“Richard,” you say breathily, searching his face, eyes openly appraising his beauty. “Don’t worry, sweet man. I love you too.” And, when you next meet his eyes there is no nervousness there. Not any longer. Instead, you find his dark, expressive eyes brewing with adoration, and that gentle but ever ascending note of passion.

“Darling, can I kiss you?” he pleads, his voice dogged by desire, his brow knitting together and his hands slipping bravely to your waist, circling you as you arch into him.

“Yes. Yes,” you say, and his mouth meets yours in a desperate, tumultuous crush. You sing too, your skin thrumming as you finally know the feeling of his thick moustache brushing against you. As you taste the sweet flavour of cherry sucker on his kiss. As you finally feel the texture of his slicked curls beneath your fingertips.

You kiss, urgently, until you are each smiling too broadly to continue, and instead Richard beams and presses sweet, intermittent kisses all over – your cheeks, your forehead, your hair, your neck- his moustache tickling wherever it touches. His hands are everywhere they can be politely, roaming over your back and your arms and your hair, and it feels so good to finally be held like this.

Eventually, he pulls back, his smile no longer tugging at his lips so keenly -lips now kiss flushed with deep colour- but shining in his liquid eyes. “How long have you loved me back?” he asks in a still choked, disbelieving voice.

You bite your lip, but then allow your face to split in a radiant, unrestrained grin.

Always. Always. I loved you first, you think.

You reach for your bag, reluctant to break from him so trailing your love’s hand in yours- and you fish out the letter. The one you’ve carried around since it was returned to you. “Take a look, Richard,” you encourage.

He looks from you to the small envelope, turning it in his spare hand as you pass it to him. “What is this?”

His brows rise in confusion as you tap the stamped postmark with your index finger. Years. Years ago.

“I sent you a letter,” you explain. “Telling you I loved you. That I love you,” you correct, squeezing his hand tightly in yours, amazed at how natural it feels already, to touch him.

He audibly gasps in air, looking pained. Devastated. “I never got it. I would’ve-“, he fumbles for words, but he can’t finish them, the magnitude of all those years lost to yearning too big to wrap his lips around. “I never got it,” he repeats sorrowfully.

You shake your head. “Don’t worry about that now,” you soothe. “I got your letter.” And, as you engulf him with your arms a soft smile takes over his features once again. He can’t help it.

“I’m so glad you did,” he beams, drawing you to him for another kiss, which you eagerly accept, opening your mouth to him.

God, he’s a good kisser, his tongue in you deep and eager, and the heat generated is quick to catch, a fire lit in the pit of you. That moustache is a divine thing too, his lips soft and full beneath, his mild-mannered tongue positively sinful as it works against yours.

Letting the kiss grow, you grab hold of him by the belt to draw his body closer to yours, arching your hips into his, and you feel an impressive bulge greet you as you do so.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers bashfully, angling his hips away from you, in case you’re not ready for… that yet. “You’re perfection. So perfect, I… I’m a little bit, uh, excited.”

You don’t blame him. You’re a little bit excited too. There’s a drum beating in your chest. Music in your heart. A song everywhere. A dance in your body.

“W-would you like to take me to the bedroom, Richard?” you purr, softly. “We’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

You wish you could capture the bliss which sparks in his eyes then, and keep stoking it forever more. His whole being glows as if you are the sun shining down on him. He loves the sun on his face. He loves you.

He loves you.

*******

Later that night:

At some point after round three, Richard is ravenous, and so you head to the kitchen to grab some snacks. One of Richard’s plaid shirts wards off the slight chill, settled over your otherwise naked body. As you microwave something quick, you can barely keep the smile from your face – even more so as you glance over at the table full of half-finished letters. As the microwave pings and you grab out the plate, another idea occurs to you, and you simply can’t help yourself.

So, you pad mysteriously back towards the bedroom, where Richard is waiting. The blanket is slung low over his hips, skimming the dark trail of hair which draws your gaze down beyond his abdomen. He is covered, and yet you bloom blissfully with heat at your new-found knowledge of what lays beneath. He’s laying with one hand folded behind his head, and one hand rested on the soft, roundness of his stomach, which you had laid your head on only moments ago.

Richard’s eyes shine with unadulterated admiration as you enter, and you flash him a mischievous smile as you transfer the plate to his hands, and subsequently tip a cascade of his letters into the middle of the bed.

“What’s all this?” he asks, with a contented laugh as you bounce eagerly into bed by his side, humming in equal contentment as you slot yourself under his arm.  

“I want you to read them to me. Will you?” you ask, sweetly, and he looks bashful all over again. “No-one has ever sent me a love letter.”

“Me neither,” he chuckles. “Or I thought so…”

He hesitates, perhaps feeling shy, but he wraps his arm around you securely, nuzzling you into his side as he picks up the closest leaf of paper.

He hums gratefully as you begin to stroke his smooth chest. He really does sing whenever you touch him.

“They’re not finished,” he caveats. “I wanted to find the perfect words and I… I couldn’t.”

“The words don’t have to be perfect. It’s more important that they’re delivered,” you say, your voice soft as you sink into him, and so, he gently clears his throat and he begins to read, his words and his rich, soothing voice filtering over you like warm sunshine.

After a moment listening, and letting his love and his letters envelop you, you interrupt him gently. “My sweet man. Promise me you’ll never write me another love letter?”

“Are they that awful?!” Richard exclaims.

“No!” you laugh, into his chest, tipping your chin up to look him in the eyes. “They’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard. It’s just… I think I hate love letters, Richard. They’ve only ever kept me from you.”

His expression becomes wistful, lost in thought until a smile finally captures him. Then, with a finger curling gently under your chin, he dips down to plant a small kiss to the very tip of your nose.

“No more letters then,” he promises softly. “Let’s always promise to say it out loud from now on. Let’s talk every day.”

You heart full, you bring your hand up to caress his cheek, before planting a gentle, lingering kiss to his lips; and, despite what you’d just suggested, you plead for him to keep reading to you, his voice and his love lulling you to sleep in his arms.

With the love letters as kindling, your dim spark finally catches, your fire now blazing. You set it in a hearth in your chest, and you vow to keep it stoked for always.

THE END

Bonus:

Adulting 101: College

chapter 4: communal property

(because some of you are just plain rude and nasty)

"Dorm life? No problem! I've shared a bathroom with three siblings for my entire life." -an overly optimistic rising freshman

For many of you, living in a dorm will be your first extended time away from home. You might see it as a long-awaited source of freedom, or you might be dreading homesickness. Either way, sharing a hall with dozens of total strangers usually doesn't come with much in the way of a warning label. You've probably heard plenty of tips from parents and the world at large (shower shoes!!) but here are a few of the big things it pays to know before you go.

Your room is both smaller and larger than you think it is. Depending on how you arrange your room and how much stuff you plan to cram into it, you might have a bit more space than you think. Chances are you won't find yourself elbow-to-elbow with your roommate as often as you would assume, looking at those 12'x16' measurements. If that doesn't sound too bad, remember that doesn't account for furniture, which in my dorm takes up all but three feet of wall space and leaves only enough combined floor space for three yoga mats. Make the most of your space, and you won't constantly be tripping over things--or each other.

Do not disturb. If your campus has designated "quiet hours," consider at least making a concerted effort to respect them. Yes, college is supposed to be "the best four years of your life," but shouting from one end of the hall to the other at three in the morning might be seriously inconveniencing someone else. Take it from the marching band student who has to be up at dawn on Saturdays for noon games: getting three hours of sleep and having to run nonstop for the next eight hours is not fun. You don't have to be silent. You don't even have to be that quiet. Just be respectful and don't scream, shout, or blast your music after midnight (or earlier, depending on your campus).

Roommates are people, too. You'd think quiet hours would naturally extend to the space within your dorm, but sometimes that's not so clear. It's probably a good idea to set your own in-room quiet hours, whether that means "any time after eleven" or "when I go to bed". The acoustics in a dorm room are incredible. There's nothing quite like rolling over to fall asleep at two in the morning and having your roommate launch into a loud, animated phone conversation from six feet away.

Do the laundry-room shuffle. No matter what, your building will never have enough washers and dryers. It's very unlikely you'll make it through even a single semester without lugging your laundry to the laundry-room, finding every machine full, and having to do the walk of shame back to your room to wait. Sometimes it's a matter of convenience for everyone to rush the laundry-room on the weekend or after classes. Sometimes it's people forgetting to take their laundry out of the dryer. Sometimes it's one person hogging all six washers at the same time. Don't be that person. If you have multiple loads, plan your laundry routine in overlapping stages and do your best to time the cycles. Bonus: if you take your laundry out of the dryer soon after the cycle finishes and fold it well, you should be almost entirely wrinkle-free without ever touching a dryer sheet, iron, or can of wrinkle-remover. That, and no one will leave your laundry in a heap atop the machine so they can dry their own.

Know where the trash goes. This might not be something most people include in a college survival guide, but it can be fairly important. Make sure you know how to dispose of various types of trash. Some colleges might want you to break down cardboard boxes and/or take them to a certain recycling bin that might not even be in your building. Leaving boxes or trash in the hall for collection might be the norm, or it might earn you a fine. Even your own personal trash can might require a bit of thinking. If you aren't going to empty it every day, do you really want to leave food scraps to rot in your room, potentially attracting ants? By disposing of food items and potentially gross objects directly in hallway or bathroom trash cans, you can save yourself a fair amount of disgust--and you won't even need a can liner!

If you spill it, you clean it. This shouldn't be too much of a surprise, but you're now fully required to be a responsible adult. That means cleaning up your own messes. If it's something you really can't handle, like a massive spill in the hallway or (God forbid) vomit on the bathroom floor, fill out a work order or contact the janitorial service. Don't just leave it for someone else to step in, no matter what it happens to be. That cup of beans and rice you just spilled on the staircase isn't helping anyone, and it isn't difficult to find a way to solve the problem.

Yes, this bathroom is communal. Unless you're lucky enough to have an en-suite, you'll probably be sharing a bathroom with several dozen other people. Don't be disgusting. It might be a perfectly uneventful experience (and for most of my friends, it is) but personally, I could write a horror story with some of the things that have occurred in my floor's bathroom. This is the time to employ the Golden Rule. If you wouldn't want someone to waltz into your private bathroom and do something gross, don't do it in a communal bathroom.

This is by far not a complete list of dorm hall etiquette, but it contains the basics for surviving life in a building full of young adults. As you go, you will find your own way of navigating communal property. Feel free to mention any big topics I missed, and as always:

Good luck!

Nail Tech Talk : Top Tips For Setting Up In An Unconventional Space

Setting up can be a little daunting when you first start out, but it doesn’t take long to start building your collection & creating a space that you're happy with. When I started to set up my treatment room, I began by creating a mood board to figure out the aesthetics & practicality of the room. I love to use Pinterest to get my visual ideas out and have mood boards for things like Storage Ideas, Pedicure Set Up and design inspo.

Once you’ve figured out the style you're after you can start to figure out how to make it come to life. Everything takes time and you’ll find sometimes it’s not until you’ve actively worked in a space that you can truly see what you need to change & adjust to make the space really work best for you. It's a work in progress that grows with you as you develop new skills. Don't feel that everything has to be done at once.

My Treatment Room aesthetic is kitsch, plant adorned & bright. I try to keep things fun, but tidy and cozy for clients. I’m not a "normal salon space", but that’s one of the reasons my clients like to come to me. I don’t try to make the room do something it can’t do, I just work with what I can.

Storage

Storage is really important, especially as it can actually save you time if you keep yourself well organized. I really love easy access storage so that I can grab things quickly and not waste time looking around for products.

Nail Polish/ Gel Polish Storage 

I originally started out with both the long and short Ikea Alex drawers. These are great if you are just starting out and don't have too much product as they provide a lot of storage space, but if you are like me and tend to have a lot of product (I do makeup as well as nails), I’d recommend going for better quality drawers with more side supports than Ikea. My Alex drawers lasted about 3 years before I had to replace them with a similar Tallboy Style Drawer which I found on sale at La Redoute. My advice would be to spend a little extra on furniture if you can so that you don't have to replace it in future.

Ikea Picture Shelves are also a great way to display polish/gel colours on your walls, but they will need dusting regularly which is why I prefer to use the tallboy style drawers. I tend to use the Picture Shelves to create a "gallery wall" where I display framed art and photos, but these would be great for displaying certifications and awards as well.

Glitter/Diamonte/Dried Flower Storage

I invested some time decanting all my glitters, diamantés and dried nail art flowers into clear acrylic lidded jars which sit in clear boxes (labelled on the bottom) so I can showcase colours more easily to clients rather than rummaging through boxes. Clear Acrylic storage is great as you can see when things are running low and need topping up. I tend to separate these into colour sections keeping like colours together. Ebay, Amazon, Hobby Craft & Muji are great for finding these kind of clear acrylic storage solutions.

Wire Storage

I keep wires under control with a wire tidy box also from Ikea to reduce tripping hazards and keep the room looking tidy. As I do a lot of filming in the room, I do have quite a few different wires for various things, anything that doesn't fit into the Ikea Wire Tidy, when not in use, gets stored in Ikea Rattan/Wicker Storage Boxes and slotted away in my Ikea Kallax. I label the different plugs with a Dymo Label Machine so I don't get things confused. 

How To Display Your Nail Art Professionally

I love nail art and have a lot of nail tips left over from content creating and old Pop Up Nail Bar menus. I was looking for a way to showcase these to clients and discovered a really cool Nail Art Display Box on Ebay which looks very professional. You can change the display every season or theme each clear pull out frame to your liking. With so many ideas and options available this is a great way to break it down visually for customers. Here is a break down on how to start yours (links to where to find it are in the description box) :

https://youtu.be/F5Yzousncqg

Pedicure Set Up

I recently started offering pedicures again and needed to create a cozy pedicure space that could easily be put away when not in use.  As I don’t have laminate flooring, I had a custom size floor matte made to protect my rug and carpet area from splashes and mess  by https://www.floormats.co.uk . When not in use, this slots away under a sofa and easily pulls out when I need it again. It's also easy to wipe down and keep disinfected.

Instead of using a storage trolly to display Pedicure Products (as my room is carpeted which wouldn’t be practical), I keep my bottles and sprays on trays on top of a wooden stool. I have 2 different trays which I alternate with the two systems I use, Footlogix & Famous Names Releaf. * Nail techs use my discount code TABBY10 for 10% off these brands and more on the Louella Belle site.

I purchased  my concrete pink/white tray to display my Footlogix products from Etsy Seller JustSoDesignbyRachel (https://etsy.me/37c1csl ) who had to adapt when first lockdown hit & set up a shop selling hand made beautiful concrete items. Where I can, I love to shop with and support smaller businesses & fellow nail artists.

To display my Famous Names Releaf I went for a more rustic looking tray from Dunelm which suits the natural ethos of the system : https://www.dunelm.com/product/wooden-tray-craftland-1000167605?defaultSkuId=30696657

For a leg rest/foot rest, I use a foldable stool from Amazon with customised vinyl material that can be disinfected. I found out about the stool from a fellow nail tech on the Footlogix Facebook Group ! The vinyl I reupholstered the stool with came from Etsy Shop HomeTexStudio (https://etsy.me/2JJlRsb). The height is just right for my set up, not for everyone I’m sure , but for the space I work with it’s perfect. Here’s a video of the DIY stool transformation :

https://www.instagram.com/tv/CHGFgx6D6EY/?utm_medium=copy_link

I use Belava Pedi Bowls with recyclable disposable liners for my pedicures as I love glitter & they really go with my room's aesthetic! I think customers also feel much better knowing each time they visit they get a fresh pedi liner. The Belava Glitter bowls do come with a disinfectable insert, but I prefer to use the disposables as I feel it reassures customers that my hygiene standards go above and beyond, especially in these times.

I use an IKEA rattan stool to sit on when doing pedicures and my clients sit on a large sofa chair which allows them to really relax and decompress. After each client, I disinfected the soft furnishing with Sursol Fabric Disinfecting Spray as removing all soft furnishings was not an option for me.

Retail Items

As my set up has less surface space than a traditional salon space, I show off the products I retail on my shorter Ikea Alex Drawers & Ikea Kallax shelves. I try to keep displays and clutter to a minimum as every surface gets wiped down and disinfected before/after each client. In keeping with the aesthetics of my room, I display my products in small wooden boxes and clear acrylic shelves.

The Work Table

My work table is the area of my room that gets the most use. I use it as a work space for not just my nail clients, but also to film and create nail tutorials and content. Unlike many techs, my work table is a little wider than usual which is not for everyone, but works well for me. I have the Ikea Nordan Gateleg Table which has 6 storage drawers down the middle and two sides which can fold down. I use the Clear Ikea Skvallra Desk Protector to keep it free of any accidents and spills. To add a little personality to the space I alternate Paperchase Wrapping Paper which I find very fun and colourful under the Desk Protector, these make great backdrops for nail art photos as well. To get the best out of my nail art photos I use the Ikea Tertial Lamp with a Day Light bulb which I find works well as a work lamp and for photography purposes.

I keep my tools tidy with a custom made Jesmonite tray which I had commissioned by a fellow nail tech ( @bylaurajayne_jesmonitedesigns). It matches my room aesthetic and keeps things nice and tidy when I'm working. I tend to sterilize my tools in my Enbio Auto Clave and then place them on my tray ready for use! If you haven't seen her trays do check them out ! They are the perfect size for nail techs as she makes both rectangle long trays and smaller square trays so there is plenty of room for everything. I think displaying nail tools on the work table like this also gives the tools a bit of respect and helps you to look after them, after all they are probably your most used items and I think it's nice to look after them well so it's just fitting to display them proudly and with a bit of care and thought!

I recently purchased a new hand rest from @gb.wrist.rests. This has been a real game changer as it definitely improves the posture for both myself and my clients when working. Previous to this I had been using an Ikea Wooden laptop holder, which worked well for a couple of years, but over time the disinfectant began to wear down the varnish and I felt it was time to invest in something better. It was also great to support another fellow nail tech who started the GB Wrist Rests business up with her partner during lockdown.

Dust Control

To control dust, I have the Zephyros Dust Collection from Tafs. I find this works really well for keeping the space tidy and protecting mine and my clients lungs. I tend to work more with soak off systems and don't currently e-file so this works well for me. I would recommend getting a more powerful Air Purifier for busier salons working more regularly with enhancements.

Sterilisation

In the corner of my room I store my Enbio S Auto Clave which is used to sterilize tools after they have been washed, then disinfected. I store this on an Ikea Alex Cupboard which doubles up as a storage space for all my cleaning products and spare nail files etc. The Auto Claves are not cheap, but one of the best investments in my Treatment Room. I think customers feel more reassured and I certainly feel better using one. Nail techs can use my code TABBY to get money off their purchases at https://www.enbio.com/uk/

My greatest advice for anyone new to the industry or just starting to set up would be take it a bit at a time. We all have to work within budgets and as you gain clients and get busier you will be able to afford to work your way up towards a space that suits you. I spent many years working as a mobile freelancer before building up a client base that comes to me. It's also worth noting that your own health and client health is so important. Consider the comfort of both of you when creating your space - make sure you are looking after skin and lungs. Protect your hands with gloves when you work to avoid over exposure and make sure you  protecting your lungs from dust particles, but most of all have fun creating a space that suits you!