#preston county
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An eastern tiger swallowtail (Papilio glaucus) probes deep to reach the summer's sweetest honeypot inside the long-lipped, tubular flowers of wild bergamot (Monarda fistulosa).
#appalachia#vandalia#west virginia#wildflowers#summer#flora#butterfly#eastern tiger swallowtail#lepidoptera#wild bergamot#beebalm#deckers creek trail#preston county
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A battle over LGBTQ+ books in a Virginia county may cost teenagers their right to visit the public library.
The chair of the Board of Supervisors in rural Botetourt County has decided the best way to ensure “parental rights” in the tiny rural area, pop. 34,000, is to send parents to the library with their kids.
Acting on a campaign pledge made in June before a primary election, board chair Donald “Mac” Scothorn (R) announced a proposal at the board’s July 31 meeting to prohibit anyone under 18 from visiting the county library without adult supervision.
It’s the board chair’s solution to a long-simmering dispute over LGBTQ+ content in the county’s four public libraries, pitting Botetourt County residents associated with groups like Moms for Liberty against free speech advocates.
The “parents’ rights” activists have pursued their book-banning agenda at school board meetings, filing removal request forms at the libraries and publicizing what they believe is inappropriate content for minors on a website likely available to minors.
For their part, the Board of Supervisors has issued two resolutions declaring “unwavering” support for the library system and staff, including one issued at the same meeting where Scothorn announced his proposal.
Scothorn’s idea came as a surprise to Marlene Preston, chair of the Botetourt County Library Board of Trustees, which has the ultimate say over library policy.
“The Library Board hasn’t endorsed or even discussed any changes to our policies regarding teens in the library,” Preston told Cardinal News. “For now, we’re pleased that the Board of Supervisors has formally supported the library and its staff.”
County Supervisor Steve Clinton, who also serves on the library board, agreed a change to the libraries’ supervision policy is not on the agenda, and called Scothorn’s recommendation a “news flash” he’s not in favor of. The Library Board’s next meeting is scheduled for Aug. 16.
Current policy in Botetourt County libraries requires children 13 and under to be supervised by adults, which has more to do with behavioral considerations than what kids may be reading, according to library director Julie Phillips.
She’s concerned how teenagers would interact with the public library under more restrictive parental guidance rules. Programming for teenagers at the four libraries includes a chess club and special programs like improv theater classes.
Attendance policies for minors vary by jurisdiction around the state. In Franklin County, children 10 and younger require supervision by an adult or another child 14 or older. In Rockbridge County, children under 8 must be accompanied by an adult 18 or older.
Until August 2020, the unattended child policy in Botetourt County was even less restrictive, reading, “Children under the age of seven, or who have emotional or social difficulty, must be attended by a parent or other responsible caregiver at all times.”
Scothorn’s campaign promise, published with another supervisorial candidate in a local county newspaper, read in part: “We pledge to bring before the Board of Supervisors of Botetourt County a proposal to raise the age of required parental consent for access to graphic sexually explicit materials to the age of 18.”
Doing so would “ultimately give the decision on access to such materials to the parents, where we believe that decision belongs,” the statement read.
Scothorn and Miller wrote they based their idea on H.B. 1379, passed by the Virginia House of Delegates early in 2023, which would have allowed parents to restrict their children’s access to any item in a school library catalog that was considered to have “graphic sexual content.”
While that bill failed to pass the state senate and didn’t make it into law, the pair wrote, “We believe its intent can inform local library policy considerations.”
#us politics#news#lgbtq nation#2023#republicans#conservatives#moms for liberty#Virginia#Botetourt County#Donald “Mac” Scothorn#Botetourt County Library Board of Trustees#Marlene Preston#Cardinal News#Steve Clinton#Julie Phillips#adult supervision#library access#book bans#parental rights#Virginia House of Delegates#H.B. 1379
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Score Big on Style with Football Club Hoodies | Footyfits
Kick off a fashionable season with our football club hoodies. Be the trendsetter in the stands. Shop different club hoodies at one place.
#football club hoodies#football club tshirts#blackburn rovers#bristol city#derby county#oxford united#preston north end#hull city
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Investigation into Racine sheriff’s deputy leads to arrest of second official
Adam Westbrook, most recently the Outagamie County human resources director, is now facing federal charges.
By Deneen Smith | Wisconsin Public Radio
An investigation into a Racine County Sheriff’s deputy charged with possession of child pornography has led to the arrest of another Wisconsin community official.
Adam Westbrook, most recently the Outagamie County human resources director, is facing federal charges for distributing child pornography. Westbrook was arrested Feb. 16. Initially charged in…
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jeremy renner visits preston county brewery
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before the devil comes for you | robert "bob" floyd
chapter one
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summary: the year is 1975. robert floyd is a young reverend haunted by demons from his past. fresh out of seminary, he is led to take up a backwoods church in a small mining town. there, he meets a woman who is in the midst of questioning the very foundation of her faith. as their worlds collide, robert soon finds himself tangled in a web of temptation and lies. with the past he’s spent so long trying to outrun quickly closing in, he is faced with a decision, in which he must either condemn the woman he loves, or turn his back on his faith.
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pairing: robert "bob" floyd x oc (fairlight mackall)
warnings: 18+ ONLY, this story will contain heavy religious themes, poverty, eventual smut, violence, mentions of death, religious trauma, mentions and/or depictions of abuse. specific warnings will be added to each part accordingly
note: i am no longer able to add anymore blogs to my taglist, as i've hit a tagging limit. please follow my tag #before the devil comes for you if you would like to keep up with this story
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It was an unseasonably warm day in late May when Reverend Robert Floyd arrived in the backwoods village of Backforty Gap, smack dab in the middle of Preston County, West Virginia.
The heat of the day had already gotten to him, leaving his fair brow wet with sweat, and his cotton shirt, the one his mother had made him, soaked through.
He was seated in the passenger’s seat of a rusty old Ford pickup, likely from the 1940s. The seats were worn and cracked. A pair of dirty, old fuzzy dice hung from the rearview mirror. The cab smelled like cigarettes and motor oil. The engine was loud.
Bob tugged at the collar of his shirt, trying futilely to ease the heat around his neck.
The man driving, who’d introduced himself as Cricket, said nothing for most of the ride, except to make comments about certain landmarks they’d pass by. Bob wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting when he pictured Backforty Gap, but it certainly wasn’t this.
There were seemingly unending stretches of highway, flanked by dense woods. Occasionally, they would pass by a dilapidated home that he was certain was abandoned, but Cricket would inform him that someone actually lived there.
“That’s the Renner place,” he gruffly informed Bob as they passed by what looked to be nothing more than a little shack.
Bob’s eyes widened. “Someone actually lives there?”
He hadn’t meant it to come across like he was casting judgment, but Cricket took it that way. “Don’t go dogging the way people live here, Reverend. It’ll do you well to keep them thoughts to yourself.”
“Oh, I-I wasn’t-” He tried, but suddenly, the truck took a sharp turn, and the words died on his lips as he lurched to the side, arms shooting out to steady himself. Suddenly, they were on a winding gravel road, and the truck rocked and rattled as they went. Bob was sure the ride knocked a rib or two loose.
Along that winding road, he caught sight of the church that would soon be his responsibility. A run-down country church, white paint peeling around the edges, arched windows furnished with stained glass.
He almost opened his mouth to ask Cricket to stop for a moment to allow himself to get acquainted with the sanctuary, but thought better of it. The man seemed like he wanted to get this over with, so Bob remained quiet and instead let his eyes flicker away from the small church and onto the road ahead.
They passed by a few houses on the way up the mountain. A few that were just as dilapidated as the one he’d seen along the main road. Others were in better condition. Some were mere cabins. Others were actual houses.
Many of the houses were littered with wandering chickens in the front yards. Hunting dogs howled as the truck passed. Cats dozed in the shade of old oak trees. Children played barefoot in their yards.
Bob was a little stunned. This place seemed stuck in time, as if it was a time capsule from seventy years prior. The area was clearly very poor. If the poorly kept houses weren’t a dead giveaway, then the children’s tattered clothes and gaunt faces were. He was quickly beginning to realize why the Almighty had led him here.
He was hopeful about his mission here, but he wasn’t quite sure how the community would react to him. He’d been told numerous times that small-town, backwoods folks like this did not take well to drastic changes like this. He would surely have his work cut out for him.
“Mackall place is up here a ways,” Cricket’s gruff voice startled Bob from his reverie. “I’m gon’ drop you off at the end of their drive, because it’s a real bitch to turn this truck around up there.” Then, he cast a sheepish glance at the young reverend. “Excusin’ the language, Reverend.”
Bob waved a dismissive hand. “It’s quite alright.” He’d certainly been known to utter worse things during his own time away from the Lord.
As promised, Cricket pulled the truck to a stop at the end of a long, dirt driveway. Bob thanked the man and made a move to place money in his hand. But he refused to take it. “S’ the least I could do for the man of God.”
With a shrug, Bob climbed out of the truck and onto the dirt and gravel below. He thanked Cricket once more before he retrieved his tattered old suitcase from the truck bed, and turned to face the seemingly unending driveway.
Here goes nothing, he thought to himself. And away he went.
As he walked beneath the beating sun, guaranteed to turn his fair skin pink, he marveled at the circumstances that had brought him here. He had only just finished seminary, when an offer to take up a church in Backforty Gap had dropped into his lap.
He’d barely given it a second thought before accepting the offer. Admittedly, he probably should have whispered a prayer to ask for wisdom, but he was just so eager to get to work that he assumed this was a sign from God.
A week later, he was boarding a greyhound bus headed for Morgantown, West Virginia. From there, a man from Backforty Gap would be waiting at the station to drive him up to the village. Or, holler, as the locals called it.
That’s where he’d been greeted by Cricket, a man of few words. When Bob had asked if that was his given name, or a nickname, the only answer he’d received was a grunt.
Cricket had driven thirty-five minutes to get to Backforty Gap. And that’s where Robert Floyd found himself now.
He was brimming with anticipation over being in a new place. It was a chance for him to have a fresh start and make something out of himself. A chance to make his momma proud, for once. A chance to finally shed all those demons from his past and walk into the light.
But before he could get on with his mission, he had to settle into the place he’d be living for the time being.
The church property did not have a pastor’s quarters. Instead, Bob would be staying up the road a ways, on the property of the church’s head deacon, Montgomery Mackall.
He had no idea what to expect as he trod the dirt path. Would he come upon a home as poor and dilapidated as all the others?
His questions were soon answered when he caught sight of a farmhouse in the distance. It was not grand, but it was no sunken shack, either. It looked big enough to house an entire family comfortably.
The paint on the outside was sun-bleached and peeling. The screen on the front door was falling off. But that seemed to be the only cosmetic disrepair on the house. Other than that it was much nicer than all the other places he’d seen on the drive up here.
Inside the house was a young woman of twenty-one, humming a dreamy tune to herself as she set about doing her daily chores. She was in the kitchen, the windows open to let in the warm spring air as she swept the worn, wooden floor.
When she glanced up from her work, eyes flickering to the open window over the sink, she caught sight of a figure approaching.
She didn’t recognize whoever it was, which led realization to dawn on her. She hastily shoved her broom against the nearest wall, rushing to untie her hand-sewn apron.
“Daddy! The new preacher’s here!” She called to her father, who was in the back of the house, in the small shoebox of a room he called his study.
She heard shuffling, and a moment later, Montgomery Mackall stepped into the hall. Standing at over six feet tall, he was a steady mountain of a man. Hard set jaw, striking blue eyes that had seen many things, and a handsome, ruddy face that was slightly weathered from years in the sun.
Montgomery, or, Mont, as his friends called him, walked steadily to the front door, pushing the screen open, but catching it before it could slam against the side of the house. His daughter followed close behind, brimming with curiosity as she tried to peer around his broad shoulders to catch a better glimpse of the reverend.
Down the path, Bob saw two people step out onto the front porch of the old farmhouse, and he lifted his hand in greeting. The cotton of his shirt shifted against his skin as he did so, reminding him of just how hot and sticky he really was, thanks to the warmth of the weather.
He might have preferred to wash up before he met his host family, but there would be time for that later. Instead, he squared his shoulders and walked determinedly. He wanted to make a good impression. Wanted these people to see him in a good light.
He supposed thinking that way was sinful. It wasn’t about him, after all. It was about showing the love of Christ to others. He had to remind himself of that as he finally caught up to the man and woman who’d just stepped off of the porch.
Bob came face to face with a man who stood at eye level with him. The man’s brow was set in a scowl, only because of the sun that shone on his face. Even so, he looked rather intimidating, but Bob tried not to let it bother him.
“Reverend Floyd,” Montgomery spoke, reaching out a firm, work-calloused hand.
Bob shook his hand, a little jarred by the rough grip, but he recovered quickly and returned the handshake with renewed enthusiasm. “You must be Mr. Mackall,” he mused.
Mont nodded. “Sure am. You can call me Mont, though. Don’t need to go by formalities.” Then, he turned, revealing the girl who’d been standing just behind him. “This here’s my daughter, Fairlight.”
As his eyes fell upon the young woman, Robert’s breath caught in his chest. There she stood, flaxen hair glimmering in the sun, the kindest smile he’d ever seen lighting up her face. But it was her eyes that stopped him dead in his tracks. They were unlike anything he’d ever seen before. A stormy, gray-blue that made him feel like he was staring into the sky in anticipation of a summer thunderstorm.
“It’s nice to finally meet you, sir.” She held her hand out, and he took it, gently shaking it.
She didn’t miss the way his hand quite literally swallowed her smaller one. He was not what she’d been expecting in the least. When her father told her of a new reverend by the name of Robert Floyd taking over Backforty Church of God, she’d imagined a much older man. Graying hair. Hunched shoulders. Belly rounded from the evidence of his own gluttony.
Her mind had never imagined him to look like this. Tall and lithe. Chestnut hair, the edges of which were curled around his forehead, glimmering with perspiration. His eyes were the clearest blue, even more so than her own father’s. His features were soft, but striking all at once. Little did she know that this very moment, this first meeting, would change the trajectory of her life forever.
But all too soon, the spell was broken, and Reverend Floyd pulled his hand from hers quickly. She noticed that he flexed his fingers, as if trying to rid himself of the feel of her touch.
Her father started speaking again. “We got a lot to talk about. You’re gon’ need to be prepared before you walk through them church doors on Sunday morning. But first, I reckon you’re eager to get freshened up.” Mont motioned to his daughter. “Faitlight’ll show you where you’re staying.”
There it was again, that warm smile of hers. If Bob stared too long, his eyes burned. He thanked Mont, and quickly moved to follow the girl. When he looked down, he realized that her feet were bare. She walked surely, so familiar with every inch of land that she was not afraid of where her feet might fall.
“You’ll be staying in our guest house,” she spoke up, her voice soft, “but don’t expect anything luxurious. It’s just an old shack my daddy fixed up.”
“Oh, I’m not picky. Just thankful the Lord provided a place for me to rest my head while I’m here,” Bob replied with a smile.
Fairlight glanced over her shoulder at him and mirrored that smile. She moved her focus back to the path ahead, and Bob watched her, pretty floral dress swishing around her bare legs. But he quickly averted his gaze. What on earth was wrong with him? He’d been here all of five minutes and his mind was already wandering.
Father, forgive me.
Instead, he rehearsed Scripture in his mind. Verses he’d had to commit to memory in seminary. He was so wrapped up in repeating those verses that he didn’t even realized they’d reached the guest house. Fairlight stopped, but his head was so far in the clouds that he didn’t see, and he collided with her.
With a gasp of surprise, she stumbled forward from the force, and Bob’s arm shot out, catching her before she could fall. “Sorry! I’m sorry, I-I wasn’t paying attention,” he profusely apologized.
But when she turned, there was laughter on her lips, flowing like sweet communion wine. “It’s okay,” she assured him.
His hand was clasped around her forearm, and he quickly released her, posture straightening. He looked beyond her and took in the sight of the house. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she said it was a shack. It was rather small, built from simple wooden planks. But it appeared sturdy enough that the weather would not get to it.
Fairlight stepped forward to open the door, and she motioned for him to step inside. As he did, his eyes explored the space. The floor was also wooden. A twin bed was placed in the corner, furnished with a wooden frame. There was a small nightstand beside it. At its foot, a small chest for storing clothing.
On the other side, there was a small writing desk. In the middle of the room, there was a modest, well-worn couch.
“Well, this is it. It’s not much, but…”
Bob shook his head. “No, it’s just right. Thank you, really. I appreciate that your father was willing to take me in like this.”
“Oh, he’s happy to do it. He’s just relieved we found a pastor to take on the church. He’s been preaching all the messages lately and it’s really wearing on him.”
Bob paused after he set his bag on the bed. “Can I ask what happened to the last reverend?”
Her face darkened slightly. “We had an outbreak of scarlet fever a while back. He visited all the families that were suffering from it. Then, he came down with it, and it killed him.”
Bob’s eyes widened. “O-oh. I had no idea. No one told me any details. Just that there was a congregation in need of a reverend.” Then, “but, surely he could've gotten help, right? There’s a hospital in Morgantown.”
Fairlight shook her head. “You don’t understand. People in this community don’t trust doctors. We have a local doctor, Doctor McHone. Our people barely even trust him as it is. Hospitals are out of the question.”
He was a little floored at her statement. People were still behaving like this, in 1975? He hadn’t realized just how stuck in time this place actually was. “Wow,” was all he could murmur.
“They don’t take well to new people, either. Some of them might give you a hard time. But with my daddy backing you, you should be fine. They trust his judgment. Besides, I’m glad you’re here. We could use someone to breathe new life into the church.”
Bob dipped his head forward. “I hope I can do that, then.”
Fairlight hummed, folding her arms across her middle. Tendrils of pale hair fell from her plait as she regarded him. “I’ve gotta say, you aren’t what I was expecting.”
He raised his brow. “Is that a good thing?”
“It is. I thought you’d be an old man with gray hair and wrinkles. But you’re not. I like the look of you. You have a kind face.”
Bob couldn’t ignore the odd feeling that spread through his chest. A prickling discomfort. His mind flickered to a moment from his past. A time in which he would never have thought of himself as kind. A time in which he was so entrenched in the pits of sin he thought he’d never escape.
But here he was, a new man, living a new life. A man who’d been given a second chance. He thanked Fairlight for her compliment, though he was certain his neck had turned pink from her words.
“Well, I’ll let you get settled in. I’m sure you’re used to having running water in the city, but out here, you’d be hard-pressed to find a house with running water. We use an outhouse to do our business, it’s just behind the main house. There’s a tub we use for baths, but I usually just bathe in the river up the road, so it’s up to you as to what you’d like to do.”
“Thank you,” Bob said.
“I make all the meals ‘round here. Breakfast is at seven. Lunch is usually at noon. Dinner is at five.” She paused, as if going over something in her mind. “I think that’s all. Daddy will fill you in on the rest, I suppose. If you need anything, let me know.” She’d inched toward the door, but her body was still turned toward him, like she didn’t want to go.
“Thank you,” he said again, dumbly. Could he not think of a more creative thing to say? But his irritation at himself was forgotten as she turned to go, and he called out to her, his worry getting the best of him. “What…what should I expect, taking on this church?”
Fairlight hesitated, as if considering just how much she should tell him. But she didn’t think she was the right person to do so. Not when in her heart of hearts, she cared nothing for the church, and wanted to see it rot. But that was a story for another time, one she would not dare breathe to a man of God such as the one before her.
Instead, she put forth the all-too-familiar persona of the obedient little church mouse. She smiled and shook her head at the young reverend. “That’s something you should ask my daddy.”
Bob nodded. “You’re right. Sorry, didn’t mean to interrogate ya.”
But she shook her head. “It’s okay. You’re just curious, is all. I would be too. There’s lots to learn about this place. But you’ll come along just fine, I’m sure.” Finally, moved to step back outside.
He followed her, standing in the doorway while she stood on the earth. The sun hit her just right, and she appeared to be glowing. “It was nice to meet you, Reverend Floyd.”
“You as well, Miss Mackall,” he answered.
She waved him off. “Call me Fairlight, please.”
“Fairlight, then.”
She nodded, eyes soft. Lingering but for a moment, she turned away, making her way back to the main house. Bob watched her go, and he tried to push aside the strange sensation blooming to life within him. He wasn’t quite sure what it was. He blamed it on nerves.
Once the woman was out of sight, he turned around, scanning his surroundings again. It wasn’t much, but it was adequate for what he needed. It was time to get settled in. So, he set about unpacking his minimal belongings.
Bob had gotten rid of many of his old possessions. At seminary, they had taught him that worldly possessions held little to no value. It was vitally important to lay up heavenly treasures, instead.
So, he kept only what was necessary, and gave the rest away to charity. It had been freeing to do so, because many of his things reminded him of the man he was before. He didn’t want any reminders of him.
Now, all he owned were some toiletries, a few changes of clothes, pajamas, the watch his grandfather had given him when he was seventeen, a moleskin journal and few pens, two pairs of shoes, a winter coat, a Sunday suit, underclothes, and, his most prized possession, his leatherbound Bible.
Those items were all he had in the world. But he was not in want of anything. He found that, in his travels, he was always taken care of somehow. A kind stranger offered him a place to lay his head. A church held a love offering for him. A sweet elderly woman made him a home-cooked meal. The Lord always took care of His own.
Bob was grateful for His provision.
As he set about unpacking, he was soon interrupted by a knock at the door. He stepped across the room, opening it to reveal Montgomery.
“All settled?” The man asked.
“Getting there,” Bob responded with a smile.
Mont nodded. “Don’t mean to pull you away, but I imagine you would like to see the church.”
Bob nodded. “I would, actually. Give me a moment to get freshened up, I’ve been sweating like a sinner in church.”
Mont didn’t seem to find that funny. “Don’t bother, you’ll just start sweatin’ again as soon as you come outside.”
Sensing he didn’t want to wait, Bob complied, stepping outside and closing the door behind him. He followed Mont back toward the house, where he was led to an old pickup truck. Those seemed to be all anyone drove around here.
The two men climbed into the cab of the truck, and soon, they were off. Mont drove back the way Bob had come from, taking the winding, rough, gravel road. It took about ten minutes to get to the church, and finally, the truck came to a stop, breaks squeaking as it did so.
Bob followed Mont’s lead, climbing out of the truck and onto the dirt. As the pair approached the small church, Bob marveled at its appearance. It was more run-down than he’d realized. It clearly had not been updated in quite some time.
“Needs some work, as you can see for yourself,” Mont spoke up as he stepped up to the front doors, fishing a key out of his pocket and unlocking them. “Been meanin’ to work on it, but funds are tight, and these people are hurting. Haven’t had the heart to ask them to contribute more than they already do for Sunday offerings.”
“Just how bad off is this community?” Bob questioned. “So I know what I’m dealing with.”
Mont sighed as he led the young reverend into the building. “I’m afraid you ain’t been prepared properly for this, Reverend. This is one of the poorest communities in the area.”
“And nobody has started a mission to help them?”
“Nobody cares about backwoods folks like these. They’d rather let ���em rot.” Mont stopped at one of the old, worn benches, knocking his fingers against the wood. “People ‘round here are dirt poor. They won’t accept charity. Their livelihood is coal mining. Most of the men here are miners. They take providing for their families very seriously. And since the fighting in Vietnam started, there have been a lot of mining spots needing filled, with some of our boys off fighting. The people are hurting from the loss”
The war was over. At least, that’s what had been announced a month ago. But Bob figured most of the boys weren’t home yet. And, it was likely that many of them had died in action and would not return to their families in Backforty Gap. He didn’t ask more questions about it, however. He would learn what he needed to know once he got familiar with the community.
“I didn’t realize how…stuck in time this place would be. I wasn’t expecting something like this in America, of all places. When you think of poor areas like this, you picture a village in Africa somewhere.”
Mont raised a brow. “Shows how privileged a life you’ve led, Reverend. No disrespect.”
“None taken,” Bob replied.
“These people, they don’t do well with change. They like things the way they are. It took a mighty bit of convincing for them to agree to bring on a new pastor.” His eyes held a serious stare as he stepped closer to Bob. “You’d best not let them down.”
The weight of this responsibility hit Robert like a ton of bricks. How was he going to shepherd and care for this impoverished community? Was he cut out for such a thing? Could he be the pastor they needed? Worry bubbled to life within his chest, but he forced himself to swallow it down.
This was what God had called him to do. He had to trust His plan. Bob had been led to Backforty Gap for a reason. It would do him well to get to work and quit worrying about all the little details. Everything would fall into place soon enough.
“So what do you say, Reverend? Think you’re cut out for this?”
Bob pulled his shoulders back confidently and smiled. “These people need me. I can’t turn my back on them.”
Montgomery returned his smile. “That’s what I was hopin’ you’d say.” Then, he turned. “Follow me. There’s lots for you to see.”
And so it began.
Although the task at hand seemed overwhelming, Bob knew this was where he was meant to be. He was grateful he’d even been considered for this opportunity.
He had worked hard to clean his life up, and it was finally paying off. But past demons always have a way of rearing their ugly heads when one least expects it, and those demons were about to give Reverend Robert Floyd a run for his money.
next chapter ⮕
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Preston Park after a snowfall. Butler Township, Butler County.
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Do you think Jamie may have had a prior, more typical loan period? With Cole, you mention the possibility of multiple loans and if Jamie had a loan in the 18/19 season, his age at the time of loaning makes more sense. I tend to put his birthday in the first week of 1997, which would make him about six months older than Cole at the time of hypothetical loaning. And purely theoretical and for fun, any favourite Championship club to send him to?
This is referring to things from my earlier loan ask, so linking that here.
Interesting! There is nothing in the show to indicate that Jamie did go on an earlier loan, but also nothing to indicate he didn't (aside from the fact they never mention it.) But it's definitely a possible idea, because this is very much a real thing. Sometimes players go on several years worth of loans, one after the other to a few different clubs. And you're right, Richmond could be the last in a series of loans for Jamie that started when he was younger.
Man City currently have some of their young contracted players on loan to clubs in lower leagues, players who haven't had any appearances in the senior side. They've currently loaned to Sheffield United and Burnley (both recently promoted to the Prem with the help of City loanees playing in the starting line up,) Blackburn Rovers, Preston North End, Coventry City, Stoke City. Bolton Wanderers is a League One club they loan to. A number of the boys on loan are in the position you are talking about, where they've had two or three loans in a row. Taylor Harwood-Bellis for example has been at Blackburn Rovers, Anderlecht in Belgium, Stoke City, then Burnley this past season. Or Tommy Doyle, who has been at Hamburger SV, Cardiff City, then Sheffield United. (As discussed in the earlier post, he wasn't allowed to play against Man City when Sheffield faced them in the semi-final of the FA Cup.)
There's nothing to really imply that Jamie did bounce around on loan, it does feel like it's something they would tell us. But it absolutely is a possibility and could make for a really interesting idea in a fic. I don't know if I have a club preference for an earlier loan for Jamie but City tend to loan to Northern clubs these days and I'd probably keep Jamie in the North, within an hour of Manchester or something. I'd probably put him in a smaller, slightly more boring city or town, somewhere less huge and vibrant than Manchester. He's very urban and I would probably remove that from him for story reasons. I'd probably dig into what clubs were in what league for the 18-19 season, and who was managing what clubs or playing for them, and see if there was something interesting in "real football" that I wanted to connect Jamie to. Maybe Bolton, because they were managed by Phil Parkinson that season and I know his personality from Welcome to Wrexham. Though, they were also relegated at the end of that season, so maybe not. That doesn't look so good for Jamie's "rising star" story.
Actually I think my answer is Derby County. They did okay in 2018-19. Mason Mount was on loan to them that season from Chelsea and he's one player Phil Dunster has said Jamie shares the playing style of, so say we get rid of Mase and send Jamie to Derby in his place. Then we have Scott Carson, who is currently the very old (for football) Man City third goalie, who never plays any games but is a massive figure in their dressing room and and in training, he keeps people very happy and high spirited, he's always talked about as being an amazing guy who everyone loves. He was Derby County's starting goalie during that season.
And the manager of Derby County that season was Frank Lampard. I don't believe he exists in Lasso-verse, I think he and John Terry both don't exist and instead are replaced by Roy and Some Other Guy that Roy famously had a Chelsea partnership with. Because we know Roy was the long term captain like Terry, that's what his homecoming moment is based on in 3.02, John Terry coming back to the Bridge when assistant managing Villa. But he was a defender whereas Lampard is the legend in Roy's position, box to box midfielder. So instead of Lampard and Terry, there was Kent and… That Guy. But that fake guy who was Roy's really good friend? He can be the manager. We would have Jamie playing under Roy's Old Mate and fishing for Roy stories, and maybe having some level of friendship develop with Scott Carson that he would carry back to City, once Jamie returns to City after Richmond.
Edit: Lampard, in real life, played his final Premier League season for Man City (14-15) so Fake Lampard may have been aware of Jamie even from that time, Jamie would have been 18 and just signed the senior pro contract. Lampard then went on to play his final season of football full stop in America, so maybe that's where Roy got that idea that he says to Ted in season one, from his old friend Fake Lampard. Lots of fun connections between Jamie, Roy and Fake Lampard!
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Fragmented AU -- Stories
I decided to share the first batch of stories I'm planning to write. They are in no particular order and aren't the only ones planned to be written. I just need to control myself lol.
Warring Covens
A mystery boy catches Mabel's fancy and Dipper is suspicious of the boy's identity, so he and the rest of their friends head out to uncover it. Meanwhile, Stan is unsure of the idea of his niece dating, remembering his own failed relationships, lamenting his woes to an uninterested, though caring, Ford.
Maiden of the Blue Water
While on a family outing at Lake Gravity Falls, the twins learned of the legend of a tragic spirit haunting the waters of the lake and investigate its claims. As this was happening, the Crystal Gems, under the orders of Preston Northwest, were on the hunt for a lake monster destroying fishing boats. Meanwhile Stan and Ford attempt to have some brotherly bonding.
The Beast of Gravity Falls
Every town has their own tradition, an event unique to them. In Gravity Falls, it's Summerween. It's like Halloween, but in the summer. As people stock up candy, get costumes ready, and light up Jack O' Melons, a sleeping creature will wake.
The Beast of Gravity Falls
The Ballad of the Dead
The Crypt Cafe is holding a dance event and the kids are excited to go to their first dance. Dipper, however, grows suspicious of one of Wendy's friends, Robbie.
A Haunting in Hannibal Hill
When people hear the word 'haunt', what usually comes to mind are restless ghosts tethered to a location. That's not always the case. Sometimes, it's the story. The history left behind.
During an important trip to Crystal Springs, the Pines and Clawthornes find themselves in the ghost town of Hannibal Hill. While here, some secrets and fears are revealed.
The Secrets of Rose Quartz
If there is anyone in Gravity Falls, in all of Roadkill County, that deserved praise and recognition, that was Rose Quartz. She had done more for the community than any of the Northwest patriarchs combined. Her kind and loving nature had earned her the devotion of the residents of Gravity Falls, even when she was gone. Even so, there will always be those who would think that someone as nice and perfect as Rose Quartz has something to hide.
Surprisingly, it is her son who goes looking for those answers.
Old Flames
Two past partners reunite with Stan. One wants to rekindle something, the other wants to burn him. And Stan isn't the only one finding himself ruminating on the past. While Ford couldn't care less about romance of any kind, he often reminisces about past bonds...
And the bridges he burned.
#gravity falls#fragmented au#steven universe#the owl house#stan pines#stanford pines#dipper pines#mabel pines
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November at Fairfax Pond-Rehe Wildlife Management Area in Preston County. The sunlight is soft and lustrous in late fall; it infuses its radiant energy into everything, be it cold earth, withered stems or crumpled leaves. I find no desolation or bleakness in November's minimalist canvas, just nature catching her breath before the extended light of spring brings the next wave of renewal.
#appalachia#vandalia#west virginia#fall#fairfax pond-rehe wildlife management area#preston county#fall light#reflection#sky#earth#water
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Results of a Two Hour Hunt, Preston County, W. Va., ca. 1910
Man and woman with rifles and stuffed animals.
West Virginia History OnView
#animals#stuffed animals#taxidermied animals#taxidermy#geese#foxes#raccoons#west virginia history onview
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"A whole new rodeo" - Rhett Abbott x Reader
[TW: creepy drunk guy, harassment, explicit language, physical violence (like one punch)]
<"Creepy guy at the bar" is a Cheesecake Trope™️: we all know it, there’s no nuance to it and yet it’s always just as lovely>
[1k followers celebration!]
SUMMARY: Rhett just wants to get a drink, not listen to some drunk guy be creepy to a girl. Preston Mabel might have a pretty bad morning, while Rhett Abbott is convinced he scored out of his league.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 2k
One of the virtues of The Handsome Gambler was its constant state - always the same clientele, the same cheap beer, the same smell of hay and gasoline. It seemed as if menaces of the real world couldn't put their talons on whoever was spending their night at the bar, for a moment letting people of Amelia County sigh with relief and pretend their hardships were more akin to philosophical questions not mandatory to entertain rather than essential parts of their demanding lives.
It was just another weeknight, the regulars greeted each other with a slight nod or a tip of their hats before sitting down to their beers. One of Kenny Rogers's hits was playing through the speakers.
Rhett was sitting by the bar and had been absentmindedly drinking his beer, thinking of many different troubles that bit at his heels, until a couple didn't become his bar neighbours. Although to clarify, the pair itself wasn't a problem, Rhett had little care for lovebirds, it's rather only the drunk half of it that got on his nerves. He would've recognized that tacky hat with plastic seashells anywhere and at any time. It belonged to none other than Preston Mabel - a man approaching his thirties that hadn't been told 'no' enough times throughout his life. Through his childhood antics, Preston gained the prestige of the guy who throws sand at others and spits in other kids' porridge. Rumour had it, he never quite outgrew one of those habits...
He wouldn't have cared about Preston - worst case scenario, Rhett could have just found another seat and continued his lonely drinking. It was Mabel's companion, however, who changed Abbott's mind. Sitting on Preston's left side, he could get a look at her face and the unmistakeable discomfort she was experiencing:
Giving the man an empty chuckle, you casually brushed his hand away from your shoulder once again. No matter how nice and charming he had seemed, your regret was growing more potent ever since Preston's fourth beer. Although his behaviour was without a doubt criminal you were quite torn about what you should do: part of you was ready to bail at any moment, while the other was gullible enough to downplay your feelings, claiming that you were blowing the situation out of proportion. It was a small southern town, after all - only a fool would expect its citizens to act like the middle-class white-collars from big northern cities. In fact, quite a few people had said that you were 'stuck-up', mostly Tinder dates for the record, so maybe that's what painted your night in the colours of doom: you just couldn't take it easy.
"I'm just gonna get some fresh air, alright?" Your words were accompanied by nervous laughter. Hopefully, a few cold breaths could clear your mind and who knows: maybe you could even laugh at your anxious discomfort. The aftermath of his unwelcomed touch felt hot on your skin like sunburn before the dead epidermis flakes away.
"Just don't run away, sweetie," Preston slurred a little louder than necessary. He was leaning on the bar counter and Rhett was quite convinced it was the only source of his balance. A shiver ran down your spine hearing his words - it was as if he had somehow known it was a viable option in your mind.
In an impressively big gulp, Mabel finished his beer, setting the bottle down loudly against the counter. Hearing that, the bartender watched him closely from underneath his eyebrows - experience taught him that Preston was showing symptoms of trouble.
"Bambi's mine," the man slurred to the ambivalent bartender before burping loudly.
Stepping away from the counter, Mabel swayed for a moment but caught his balance quite swiftly. Then, with a swing to his step, he followed you outside. When the backdoor closed behind him, the bartender sighed to himself and went back to serving beers and drinks.
Although the situation had nothing to do with him, Rhett's gut was telling him that something was bound to happen - and it wasn't going to be Christmas arriving early. Staring through the circular window in the backdoor, he watched Preston force you against the wall. His leg started to nervously bounce as Rhett tried to decide whether it was his problem or not. Whatever decision should he make, it had to come fast.
"Fuck this," Rhett whispered to himself and rushed outside.
You tried turning your head away from Preston as much as you could, suddenly feeling impossibly ashamed of your inability to set your foot down. Keeping your hands on his chest, you tried to keep his away from yourself but not as assertively as you probably should have: the only worse thing than a drunk creepy man was offended drunk creepy man. And there were too many stories of women 'mysteriously' disappearing from small towns.
"How 'bout we go to mine, sunshine?" he offered. His body language, however, was too forward and decisive for the offer to remain an open question - it was more as if he was stating the end result of the night. You were disillusioned that with the state Preston currently was in it was either 'yes' or 'convince me'.
"No, thanks. I should be going home," you answered as certainly as you could. It felt as if your heart was a frenzied beast kept in place only by the confines of your ribcage.
The sound of the backdoor being pushed open directed your attention towards the unexpected stranger. He caught your gaze, for a moment looking at Preston and the anger on his face became only more prominent.
"Come on, girl. Don't be a little prude," Mabel pushed on. It seemed quite funny that he thought calling anyone 'prude' would work in his favour.
"She said no, Pres."
Rhett's voice could hardly be described as calm, it was more of a warning - anger was boiling inside him like a bull waiting for the slightest glimpse of the red cape. Your breathing became ragged, realizing that the ordeal might get a whole new spin as Rhett Abbott didn't seem like a man who backs off easily.
Preston, however, was deaf to Rhett's words: his shaky hand reached for your face but Abbott grabbed his wrist before you could even wince at the incoming unwanted touch.
"She doesn't fuckin' want to, pal."
Only then, when he was physically restrained, did Preston finally acknowledge Rhett's existence:
"Go fuck yourself, Abbott. She's mine."
Without much thinking, Rhett took a swing and landed a punch square to Preston's jaw. Mabel stumbled backwards, visibly struggling to keep his balance. In shock, he touched his face but winced at the smallest touch. For a moment, Preston stood still - in disbelief that someone laid their hands on him.
"Apologize and go home, Preston," Rhett demanded as he moved to stand in front of you. His right fist was clenched, prepared to repeat the offence.
"You-..." Preston stuttered. Words simply wouldn't leave his mouth. "You fuckin'-..."
"I told you to apologize and go home," Rhett repeated. His persistence impressed you, leaving you grateful that it was a man like him who noticed your plight.
Probably still unable to believe he was put in his place, Preston Mabel threw a short 'sorry!' and disappeared around the corner of the building, stumbling over his own drunken feet.
"I've always wanted to do that," Rhett said quietly as he watched Preston Mabel cower away. Then his worried expression was directed at you and, somehow, the shadow of a man throwing fists seemed to be gone. His hand was no longer clenched. "You doin' alright?"
"Yeah, I guess," you answered while averting his gaze. Rhett noticed how you rubbed your arm awkwardly. "I mean, not now. But I will be. Not the worst thing that happened to me." Rhett would have asked about clarification, feeling his anger rise again but your uneasiness was too prominent and so he tried to chase his vigour away. He could ask about things worse than drunk Preston Mabel some other time - should it, hopefully, arrive. "Thank you."
"How'd you even know the guy?"
You felt a blush of embarrassment creep unto your cheeks remembering the events of the morning. Now that you thought about the earlier hours of the day, you couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed of your naivety. How humorously human it was - to be wise and reasonable only in hindsight.
"He stopped me in the streets," you confessed. Feeling your embarrassment only growing stronger, you started to mindlessly pick at your skin. Your statement elicited fairly mixed emotions from Rhett. On one hand, he was beyond bewildered that anyone could take Preston Mabel for a 'nice man' but at the same time, he found it somehow completely expected that you would get asked out in the streets - no matter how cliche the scenario might seem. You did look like that kind of woman: the type that Rhett would never even think of asking out, simply because the possibility of getting rejected was, quite frankly, ridiculously high to the point of being obvious. If he knew he had no chance with someone, there was no point in putting his neck or rather his ego's neck in the noose. "Seemed nice enough and it's not like I know many people 'round here, so I took a gamble. It's stupid, I know."
"No, it's not," he answered quickly. Confused, you look at his face not understanding the unexpected redemption of your actions. "Maybe a little."
His eyes were stuck to your face as you laughed at his words. The anxiety Preston managed to instil in you was fading away and the newfound relief only added to your sudden joy. Feeling how warmth sparkled inside his chest watching your amusement, Rhett began weighing his chances. He was disillusioned about the reality: the only thing he had that Preston didn't have was respect for others and the lack of tacky seashells. Rhett wasn't the type of man to shoot in the dark, taking a risk only when he's fairly certain of the net result but at the moment, standing outside The Handsome Gambler, he naively thought that maybe it was his shooting star of a chance.
"You think I could call you tomorrow?"
"Call me?" you repeated in a shocked tone. Rhett's heart sunk and for a moment he really wanted to slap his own face for ever thinking he could aim outside of his league. "It should be me, bringing a fruit basket to you."
You fished out a pen from your purse and, without warning him or asking, you wrote your phone number on the inside of his forearm. Rhett's hands were rough, littered with callouses and scars - hands of someone who knows the price of an honest and humble life. Rhett's knuckles were hot, and flushed, as the skin started to turn from red to purple. He was quite displeased with how quickly you scribbled the digits on his skin only to leave him cold in the absence of your hands.
"Just don't call before 8AM, I'm not an early bird. And I'm paying for dessert, cowboy."
Rhett's eyes glazed over the quick writing in black pen and a triumphant smile appeared on his face. Aside from the nine digits, you had scribbled something else:
"(Y/N)?" he read the few letters above the phone number. "Pretty name. So, (Y/N), you need a ride home?" Your name sounded quite odd coming from Rhett's mouth as if he was the only person in the world to pronounce it in a certain way - it sounded special.
"Sure, I'd love that."
Rhett Abbott might have known a thing or two about riding bulls but he was certain you were going to be a whole new rodeo for him - and that bull he wasn't falling off.
#protective men make my heart go uwu#outer range#rhett abbott#fanfiction#imagine#fanfic#scenario#rhett abbott x reader#outer range fic#rhett abbott x you#rhett abbott fic#rhett abbott imagine#rhett abbott fanfiction#rhett abbott x female reader#rhett abbott x y/n#outer range rhett abbott#outer range imagine#outer range fanfiction#outer range amazon#outer range series#outer range x reader#outer range fanfic
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Any suggestions for books that have a cozy fall feel to them? I'm trying to read my way to cooler weather :P
I sympathize with this endeavor! I have a double confession to make, though. 1) I am never sure what people on Tumblr mean when they say "cozy." 2) Even though I am fairly certain what "cozy" means when applied to subgenres of light fiction, this is not what I seek when I turn to seasonal fall reading. What I am usually looking for in autumnal fiction is some combination of:
death and decay are inevitable; they can also be beautiful
autumn is a time simultaneously of hope and of reckoning with that hope's disappointment
the academic calendar and academic communities (see also above, tbh)
With, um, all that in mind... some recommendations.
Gaudy Night, Dorothy L. Sayers. "Let us go now, and have the truth at all hazards" and also "epic actions are all fought by the rearguard" and "if it ever occurs to people to value the honor of the mind equally with the honor of the body, we shall get a social revolution of a quite unparalleled sort."
Brideshead Revisited, Evelyn Waugh (for its gorgeous descriptions of all seasons, and also everything else)
Embers, Sándor Márai (the end of a life and the end of an empire... but maybe not the end of love)
On the Edge of Reason, Miroslav Krleža (I'm pretty sure this opens in September; it is beautiful and poignant and savage)
Lolly Willowes, Sylvia Townsend Warner (this actually might come quite close to what you are looking for; this is a lovely and tender and melancholy and hopeful book)
A Small Town in Germany, John Le Carré (small town, large stakes, and Le Carré's customary insight and humor)
Radetzkymarsch, Joseph Roth (this is another end-of-empire one)
Georgics and Eclogues, Virgil (his birthday is in October! lots of lovely harvest poetry and also poetry about destructive love.)
Summer in the Country, Edith Templeton (summer must end, empire must end, deceptions... may or may not)
The Last September, Elizabeth Bowen (the last because in the autumn of 1920, in County Cork, old certainties and old loyalties are about to go up in flames.)
The Salzburg Connection, Helen MacInnes (not only is this that too-rare thing, an espionage novel written by a woman, but the thing I remember best about it is the male protagonist's quotation of/meditation on Rilke's "Herbsttag.")
The Dig, John Preston (this takes place, of course, over a summer, from May to September. But this is 1939, so September is always, always on the horizon. I did not particularly like the beautiful film as an adaptation, but I want a motivational poster of Ralph Fiennes saying "We all fail! every day!")
I hope that at least some of these may be interesting! I also always think Ellis Peters does a lovely job of evoking seasons in her Cadfael novels, and you could do worse than going through and reading the autumnal ones.
#asks and answers#adultbooklr#book recommendations#autumn#gaudy night#brideshead revisited#embers#on the edge of reason#lolly willowes#a small town in germany#radetskymarsch#virgil#summer in the country#the last september#elizabeth bowen#edith templeton#joseph roth#john le carré#sylvia townsend warner#miroslav krleža#sándor márai#evelyn waugh#dorothy l. sayers#ellis peters#helen macinnes#john preston#the dig
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Texas authorities say a 12-year-old Houston girl who disappeared for over a week, allegedly with a 27-year-old kidnapping suspect, was using a dating app called Tagged.
The girl was reported missing Feb. 22, when she was seen getting into a vehicle in the 7700 block of Waterchase Drive in Missouri City, Texas, around 1:40 a.m.
On March 1, Columbus Police were informed the suspect may be in their city limits and ultimately found and "attempted to detain" Sirterryon Preston "in reference to having possession of the missing juvenile," Columbus Police said in a press release.
"Preston attempted to flee police custody but was captured and arrested," police said. The suspect is charged with evading arrest and was taken to the Colorado County Detention Facility. Authorities are eyeing more charges pending an FBI investigation into the girl's disappearance.
Tagged, a dating app for people 17 years or older, is owned by the Meet Group, the dating app network company behind MeetMe, hi5, LOVOO, Growlr and Skout.
"We were deeply saddened to learn the news of [the girl's] disappearance and are relieved by her safe return," the Meet Group told Fox News Digital in a statement. "Nothing is more important to us than the safety and well-being of the community on our platforms every day. As such, we proactively reached out to Houston law enforcement to offer any assistance we could as soon as we became aware of the situation."
The Meet Group noted that Tagged's policies "prohibit minors" from using its dating apps, and the company utilizes "both technology and manual analysis to help check for minors who may have registered for our platform using a false age.
"Should we be made aware of any attempts to circumvent our process, we thoroughly investigate any report involving a possible minor user or child exploitation," the company added. "We invest significantly in these efforts, and while we know that, sadly, there is no way to make this process completely infallible, we are continuously evolving to stay at the forefront of best-in-class safety practices."
Dr. John DeGarmo, founder and director of the Foster Care Institute, told Fox News Digital children will often turn to dating apps and other platforms to get attention when they are not receiving enough love or attention at home.
"I think all dating sites present a risk to children," DeGarmo said. "I know Tagged has some type of policy where they don't allow kids under the age of 17, but how many children, like this girl here, are on it? I imagine there are thousands of children on these sites."
Sexual predators are also on dating sites looking to groom minors, DeGarmo added.
The child safety advocate said parents should have regular conversations with their children about the dangers of dating apps and social media platforms in general, where predators may be seeking to connect with minors. Parents should also monitor their children's activity online, he said.
"Parents have to be vigilant with their children in a number of matters. … Parents have to form strong, healthy relationships with their children so their children are not looking for these relationships elsewhere," DeGarmo said, adding that children coming from broken homes or who don't have "loving parental figures" will look for "what they are lacking in their life" on social media and dating websites.
Kris Perry, executive director of Children and Screens: Institute of Digital Media and Child Development, told Fox News Digital "there is limited existing research into how many teens are using dating apps, much less the risks or outcomes of this use."
"There is evidence that predators target minors through social media apps, knowledge that has guided some of the recommended protections we see in legislation such as the Kids Online Safety Act," Perry said.
"We can reasonably expect that dating apps are no different, except that for many of these apps, users are supposed to be at least 18. Without knowing many details, this case (and many like it) are examples of why we need a stronger understanding of how youth may be using these apps, what risks may exist and what changes can be made to create safer online experiences."
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I am so tired, but I do gotta keep this updated.
As of 1/31/23
Total number of emergency services employees involved in the lynching of Tyre Nichols.
7 police officers lynched him (yes, there's one more than yesterday)
From the Memphis Fire Department 2 EMTs and a Lieutenant were fired for failing to provide aid in a proper manner.
2 Shelby County Deputies have been relieved of duty pending an investigation after they also appeared in body cam footage of his arrest.
Of course Memphis police department didn't make a public post on it because they're fucking cowards.
So now we're up to 12 people involved in the lynching of Tyre Nichols. 7 actively lynched him. 3 failed to render aid. And 2 with unknown involvement
(If anyone that's seen the body cam footage can tell me at what point the Shelby officers showed up to indicate if they were there the entire time? The Shelby Department makes it sound like they showed up at the end. But someone else said they saw one of them show up in the middle of the body cam footage?)
I'm trying to keep all content I post to public statements made because most news articles are showing images from the body cam footage and even just a still image is... a lot... even a still image that doesn't show anything is hard and I don't want to explain why because I don't want to be triggering.
-fae
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23 books in 2023
Thank you for the tag @the---hermit !! I did this challenge last year (available here), and finished all the books on my main list just in the nick of time! I’ve been planning this list out since about July of last year, and I’m really excited to get started on it! I’m also doing a few additional lists (ocean-themed, seasonally themed, etc.) that I might post throughout the year. We shall see!
Environmental science/ecology
1) Sand County Almanac by Aldo Leopold (also recommended by friends) (read Dec 2023)
2) The Lost Art of Reading Nature’s Signs: Use Outdoor Clues to Find Your Way, Predict the Weather, Locate Water, Track Animals — And Other Forgotten Skills by Tristan Gooley (read December 2023)
3) Listening to Whales by Alexandra Morton (read April 2023)
4) The World is Blue by Sylvia Earle (read August 2023)
5) Being Salmon Being Human by Martin Lee Mueller (read May 2023)
Classics/Rory Gilmore Reading Challenge
6) Timeline by Michael Crichton (read Jan 2023)
7) The Awakening by Kate Chopin (read Nov 2023)
8) Girl, Interrupted by Susanna Kaysen (read Nov 2023)
9) A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers (read Nov 2023)
10) Outlander by Diana Gabaldon (read March 2023)
Reading around the world
11) The Lost City of The Monkey God by Douglas Preston (Honduras) (read Nov 2023)
12) Alone on the Ice: The Greatest Survival Story in the History of Exploration by David Roberts (Antarctica) (read July 2023)
13) Long Walk to Freedom by Nelson Mandela (South Africa) (read Nov 2023)
14) Beyond the Last Oasis by Ted Edwards (Western Sahara) (read December 2023)
15) The Blue Sky by Galsan Tschinag and Katharina Rout (translator) (Mongolia) (read Nov 2023)
Architecture and Design
16) The New Carbon Architecture by Bruce King (read Feb 2023)
17) Design with Life: Biotech Architecture and Resilient Cities by Mitchell Joachim and Maria Aiolova (read Feb 2023)
18) The Alchemy of Architecture: Memories and Insights from Ken Tate by Ken Tate and Duke Tate (read Nov 2023)
19) Houses that Can Save the World by Courtenay Smith and Sean Topham (read Jan 2023)
20) Speculative Everything: Design, Fiction, and Social Dreaming by Anthony Dunne and Fiona Raby (read Dec 2023)
Books recommended by friends
21) The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood (Read Jun 2023)
22) O Pioneers! by Willa Cather (Read Dec 2023)
23) Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir (Read Jan 2023)
BONUS
24) Saving Fish from Drowning by Amy Tan
25) Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand
26) Defenceless: Gli Ultimi Romantici by Giulia Vola (second year of this on my list bc I think I’ll FINALLY be able to have access to my copy again!! Woohoo!!)
27) Prisoners of Geography by Tim Marshall
28) Backpacked: A Reluctant Trip Across Central America by Catherine Ryan Howard
I really love this challenge, so I want to share it far and wide with the world, BUT I also know not everyone wants to do this, so absolutely no pressure tagging: @contre-qui @daydreaming-optimist @sweetlikehoneysteve @notetaeker @humble-boness @silhouette-of-sarah @willowstea @cheshire-castle-library @deirdredoodle @a-students-lifebuoy @phd-on-fire @amareteur @frithams @carefortheearth @ckmstudies @theskittlemuffin and anyone else who wants to!
#23 books in 2023#bookblr#book recs#books#tagged#tag game#the—-hermit#Cris#friends#mutuals#Studyblr#studyspo#reading#reading recs#book lists
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