#rum river bridge
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Rum River Bridge, Anoka, Minnesota
Photography prints inspired by travel, nature, and the occasional flower shot with a macro lens are available at my Etsy Store.
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#anoka#black and white photography#bridge#Etsy#home decor#minnesota#photography#rum river bridge#shop small#small business#smallbiz
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Angel || LN4
Summary: Kingsday gets a little wild, in honour of Lando’s nose.
Warnings: alcohol, injuries, blood
WC: 1.7k
Lando wasn’t drunk, but he was by no means sober either. Everyone had warned him the Kingsday event was a marathon not a sprint so he was taking it slow, sipping his rum and coke out of the orange paper cup while the river boat cruised its course.
By midafternoon it was another story completely.
Martin had taken a break and let a playlist continue the party without him on the deck while he went in search of Lando. The British driver had reached the point of being tipsy and fallen into a state of drunkenness where he could no longer block out his intrusive thoughts. Everywhere he looked couples were dancing or making out and he couldn’t help the despair of loneliness that separated him from the fun.
Leaning back on the cushions that covered the bow, Lando looked up to the bright blue sky and wondered why he couldn’t find someone that loved him with the same passion he had. He was always the one to fall harder and knew it was why things didn’t work out long-term.
The half empty cup was stolen from his hand and Lando lolled his head to see Martin drinking it dry. “No more for you, my friend. Smile! It’s Kingsday: the sun is out and the music is loud.”
“Sorry,” Lando sighed, not quite able to muster up a real smile.
“What’s wrong?” Martin dropped onto a cushion beside him and nudged his shoulder until Lando spilled the thoughts he was harbouring.
—
“These heels are killing me,” you complained as they wobbled on the cobblestone. “Can we stop for a minute?”
There were groans from some of the guys in the group but their girlfriends silenced them. You smiled gratefully at your friends but knew they were in just as much pain after hours of drinking in the city for Kingsday. The thought of walking any further to the house party someone had invited everyone to nearly had you calling for a taxi, despite the chances of getting one next to nothing.
“Lennon said there will be tons of single guys at the party. In that dress you will totally pull a 10,” Sarah said as she leaned back against the bridge rail and rolled each ankle to ease the ache.
You laughed at the statement and mirrored her position, careful not to drop the glass you had accidentally stolen from the last bar. “Getting laid isn’t the problem, it’s getting the guy to stick around afterwards.”
“Relationships are overrated,” she said, blowing a kiss to Lennon when he looked her way and raised a brow. “Not ours, baby.”
You sighed longingly as they shared a smile. “I want what you guys have.”
“Well then you better hurry up because the love of your life might just be waiting for you. Wouldn’t want to miss that, would you?”
You rolled your eyes but decided that you would continue the walk barefoot and put your heels back on when you got to the house. Leaning against the rail, you balanced on one foot and reached for your heel just as a drunkard went flying past on his e-bike.
“Ah, shit!” you screamed as you lost your balance, toppling back over the rail and straight towards the murky water below.
—
Martin yawned as he listened to Lando’s long winded explanation for why he was alone and all his friends were in relationships.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was putting you to sleep,” he sassed.
“Well if you want some advice, from someone in a relationship, you’re not helping yourself moping around. For starters, you need to get up,” Martin encouraged as he rose to his feet and offered his friend a hand before the sunlight disappeared, the boat passing under one of the many bridges. “Love isn’t going to just fall into your lap-”
A scream pierced the air before a flurry of orange material crashed onto Lando, both their eyes squinting to readjust to the bright sunlight out of the tunnel.
Your heart hammered in your chest as you realised you were still alive and you looked around to see what had broken your fall. “Holy shit, I am so sorry!”
A stunned man sat beneath you and you reached for his face as you noticed the blood running down his nose. “Oh my god, did I do that? Are you alright? Shit, you probably don’t speak English.”
“He speaks English. It’s getting him to shut up that’s the problem,” a man standing above you said with a laugh. “Lando, mate, snap out of it.”
You started to climb off his lap but his arms tightened around you and he shook his head with a wince. “Don’t move, you might have broken something.”
“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you apologised again.
“Not me, you muppet,” he laughed. “You might have broken something.”
You patted yourself down, straightening your dress back into place at the same time, but everything felt fine. You tested your wrists and ankles too, only to notice you had indeed broken things.
“What’s the damage?” Lando asked.
“Ego mostly,” you admitted sheepishly. “I think I broke my heel on your face.”
“Pretty sure that was your glass,” he said looking at what remained in your hand, the sting of the cut on your palm finally appearing when you noticed the blood on the broken glass. “How bad is it? Am I hideous?”
“You are still a 10,” you giggled after noticing he was devastatingly handsome, even with the cut across his nose. Grabbing the hem of your dress, you gently dabbed the blood away before realising that it was a stupid idea. “You don’t have any diseases, do you?”
“Rabies,” his friend joked.
“Speak for yourself, mate,” Lando shot back and while they bickered jokingly you heard your name called from the river bank. “Is that your boyfriend?”
“Are you alive?” Lennon shouted as he ran along with the boat.
“Nope, I’ve died and gone to heaven!”
“I’ll let Sarah know!” He grew smaller as he stopped running and the boat continued downstream to some unknown destination.
“That’s my best friend’s boyfriend,” you explained as you patted your bra but found your phone missing. “Can I borrow your phone? I think mine drowned.”
Lando carefully shifted you so he could get to his pocket before settling you back on his lap. The grateful smile you gave him almost made him drop the device and he had to enter his passcode in twice before he got it right.
“Where is this boat heading to?” you asked as the dial tone connected. “Hey, it’s me, calm down, I’m alive.”
“Good, I’ll kill you myself! You gave me a fucking heart attack, woman!” You had to hold the phone away from your ear as she shouted her concern.
“I didn’t do it on purpose, but I’m sorry for giving you a heart attack.”
“As you should be! Len said you landed on some guy. Is he hot?”
Your face heated and you knew he had heard the question with the curious look on his face. “Mhmm, very.”
“You should invite him to the party and do a little sexy dance for him!”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I kind of…broke his face.”
The silence was damning before you swore you heard her laugh from all the way upstream. “Only you could have the worst luck with men.”
“Trust me, I know all too well. Anyway, they are stopping at the Rose Bridge so I’ll just meet you guys there. Guess my luck isn’t all that bad.”
You ended the call and handed the phone back.
“What party are you going to?” Lando asked as he pocketed it again.
“I don’t know, it’s some house party. There’s a local DJ playing.”
Lando’s smile grew and he pointed to his friend. “Local DJ, ha!”
As it turned out the house party wasn’t actually a party at someone’s house and the DJ wasn’t just locally renowned. Once you were finally introduced to Lando’s friend you found out he was the DJ, Martin Garrix, and Lando was even more famous.
“I can’t afford a lawsuit,” you groaned when you realised you had practically assaulted a celebrity.
“It’s just a scratch,” Lando assured you after Martin found a first aid kick. His poor attempt at wrapping a bandage made Lando look like a mummy so you took the box yourself and found a couple of small butterfly stitches. “Nothing a kiss wouldn’t fix.”
You giggled at his flirty nature you had come to adore in the last hour and if you hadn’t drunk so much liquid courage at the bar you probably wouldn't have been able to lean closer and kiss his cheek. His skin was warm and soft beneath your lips and when you opened your eyes you found his blue eyes staring intently back. “Better?”
He shook his head. “Nope, I think it needs another try.”
“Hmmm, good idea.” You kissed his other cheek and grinned when he pouted. “No? One last try.”
Your fingers delighted in the feel of his soft hair as you combed the curls and dipped your head to his. Your heart rate spiked and you closed your eyes as you kissed his pillow-soft lips teasingly slowly before his hands cupped your face and he deepened the kiss.
You broke away with a small gasp and your eyes were wide with the want for more. It was a look reflected on Lando’s face as he gently stroked your heated cheeks.
“Hey, lovebirds! We’re here,” Martin called as the boat reached the canal edge.
You kicked off your broken heels and Lando frowned before he gave you his, looping his fingers into the straps of your shoes to carry them. You were already wearing his shirt since your dress had his blood on it and you were certain you looked at absolute mess.
“Ready to party, Angel?”
“Angel?”
“What else would I call a beautiful woman who fell from the heavens?” Lando wondered if he was making a mistake and moving to fast like he always did but it was too late, the question was already out there.
“You could call me your girlfriend.” You cringed in an instant. “I mean not tonight, that would be way too quick but-”
Lando cut you off with a kiss and you felt his smile against your lips before he asked, “How about tomorrow?”
#Spotify#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#formula one imagine#formula 1 fanfic#f1 x reader
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The Constable's Dues
During the 14th century successive kings believed it was their right to get tolls from vessels on the Thames. The Constable of the Tower of London was allowed to demand these tolls on the king's behalf.
Among the benefits, the Constable received fees from state prisoners at the Tower and was entitled to all flotsam and jetsam on the Thames. They could keep all livestock that fell from Tower Bridge into the river and owned any passing swans. For every foot of livestock that stumbled into the Tower moat, the Constable received a penny and any cart that fell in became his property. They received 1s a year from all ships carrying herring to London; 6s 8d a year from all boats fishing for sprat between the Tower and the sea; and 2d from each pilgrim who came to London by the river to worship at the shrine of St. James.
Perhaps the most significant perk was the toll collected from ships passing up the Thames into London. Historically, goods ships travelling upstream would have to moor at Tower Wharf and unload a portion of their cargo for the Constable as a form of toll. Such bounty might have included oysters, mussels, cockles or rushes (as much as could be held within their arms), as well as kegs of rum or wine. As river traffic increased and taxes became more regulated, these payments of goods progressively reduced until they were no longer enforced.
Still today, whenever a Royal Naval vessel moors on the Wharf, the Captain must present the Constable with a barrel of wine (the ‘Dues’). This is ceremoniously escorted into the Tower by the Yeoman Warders and presented to the Constable on Tower Green.
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—salted snow turned slush on the streets of Kenosha
—telephone calls from Chicago, Blue Ridge Summit; later, Istanbul, NYC
—rum in the railyard, the
—hats (see also: scally, fedora, pork pie)
—Sinatra, Frank
—Presley, Elvis
—Costello, Elvis
—Waits, Tom
—Terricloth, Jack
—marimba, bone (I am always using that phrase)
Dear You. When you reach my age, which seems impossibly far away these days (and is in truth both much farther away and much sooner than you think), you'll wonder why you're still writing these things. You thought once you could be done with it, but it is impossible because that year (this year, still, for you) is so full. So impossibly full.
—Bride of Frankenstein (see also: "I hope her bones are firm!")
—boys in your bed; boys in vans and motel rooms
—door number 30
—trains over bridges, tunnels through mountains, rain and rivers
—diners where the fries are too salty and the coffee tastes of blood
—Nighthawks (at the...)
—Nighthawks (painting by Edward Hopper)
Dear You. By god it's too much. You once thought you could be done with this year but at other times you're afraid that by writing it so often, it will disappear. Like each memory is a coin and by putting it down on paper, you are spending it. But each coin returns to your pocket, eventually. Maybe a little dull, a little tarnished, but still valid currency. And then the coins, the memories, that you'd forgotten! So many, like they're newly minted.
—a half-stolen switchblade
—a hostel on Bank Street
—M. riding shotgun, rolling cigarettes, while that road marimba...
—Baltimore's rats and broken roses
—Cincinnati cicadas
—Ohio fireflies
—"In Ohio On Some Steps" (the trumpet vines, the heat and heartache)
—Milwaukee girls
—a red dress
Dear You. You will think, sometimes, that part of you is trapped in that year. Like the year is a late-night diner with no visible exit, and you are one of the lonesome souls sitting under the yellow globes of light, staring into your coffee, and all now-you can do is stand on the street outside, looking in, hoping for some way to enter just like past-you wishes they could exit (though they're not making much of an attempt). And maybe that's partly true. (For this was the year of learning that so much impossible stuff was at least partly true.) But the you-outside will have to go on, spending these ever-replenishing memory coins. Writing these never-ending lists. They are the currency, and the index, of your becoming.
—Jessie Lynn McMains (from an unfinished essay-poem hybrid thing inspired by a prompt that suggested to write your own 'letters to a young poet,' so I started writing one to my younger self circa 2004, because everything I write is about that year; written summer 2023)
#jessie lynn mcmains#spilled ink#poetry#prose poetry#2023#nostalgia#dear you#letters to a young poet#2004#lists#yeah i abandoned this because it was too muddled#but! that final paragraph did give me a way in to an ekphrastic poem about hopper's 'nighthawks' that i've been working on so...
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I first saw it when I was heading towards Shanghai to promote the Treaty of Amity and Commerce. It was nibbling on a waterfowl under the steel bridge, gulping it down along with its feathers. I exclaimed loudly, pointing towards the southeast waters. When everyone turned their heads, the area was devoid of anything but a few ripples. A few weeks later I saw it again by the Suzhou River. Crimson tail, and a face which resembled the locals. In broken Chinese, I asked the grandmother living by the river if she had seen a similar creature. She mentioned that there used to be water spirits here, and a child had drowned. I asked other locals as well. The driver I knew from the embassy said it's a merman he saw when he was young. Another playboy said it might be a gimmick of an underground dance hall to attract customers. They would have mermaid performances, with people swimming in glass tanks wearing fish tails. He was from a prestigious local family with insights into such matters. But I knew the mermaid didn't come from there. It didn't seem like something which belongs to this world.
After social gatherings, I often took walks by the Suzhou River and frequently asked for hard bread from restaurant kitchens to feed river fish. Usually, within seconds, the bread would be devoured by the hungry school of fish. But sometimes, it would float there for a while before decomposing. So I knew there must be something underwater deterring the fish. That's when I began to throw more valuable items. Plastic toys, glass bottles, metal pocket watches, and a wooden mermaid sculpture I carved myself. Without exception, they sank into the riverbed, at that place where strange things often occurred.
Later on, I got into a shipwreck on my way back to Shanghai from Guangzhou. I woke up in a public hospital in Shanghai. My assigned doctor was Dr. Chen. He is a sharp and indifferent person who seemed to dislike Westerners, which was understandable. We colonized his homeland and exploited his people.
The nurses form the hospital said that I was found on a shallow in Fengxian. There were a few rotting sea fish and a small bottle of rum the size of a pocket. Back then, I was certain that this creature saved me. But I didn't tell anyone because it sounded too crazy. Whether it truly existed or was just a psychological defense mechanism to alleviate anxiety and fear during the tumultuous 1940s, I couldn't say. Because after that, I never saw it again.
#ANT1PODE#yr’s oc#victor chen#ethan brown#suzhou river 2000#but its post wwii china#oc#interspecies relationships#interspecies love#illustration#ANTIPODE 1947#au: historical#usa ambassador#鲛人#merman#ANTIPODE
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Guanabana Gang
On Friday morning, our chauffeur Stacia transported us to La Fortuna. As we approached where we thought our Airbnb was, we lost service. The directions were not at all clear, and our hanger won out, so we quit and went for lunch at the first place we saw.
It turned out to be everything we needed: fresh dragonfruit, maracuya, and guanabana juice accompanied by fresh ceviche, garlic shrimp, and wait for it…more fish. We hopped on the wifi, downloaded the map, and successfully found our Airbnb!
After checking in, we went to the Don Olivio chocolate tour. Immediately upon arrival, we were greeted with bananas, papaya, and chocolate fudge. To say the least, we were already into it. We took a quick look at the surrounding fruit trees and saw a two-toed sloth named Maria munchin’ on some hibiscus leaves.
We saw pink bananas AKA bird food, green-rinded oranges, guanabana, and cacao, and we took shots of sugar cane rum. Our guide cracked open the cacao and gave us each a bean covered in a sweet mango-flavored coating. At the end of the tour, we sat down and somehow consumed hot chocolate and pure hot coffee with a bit of fresh vanilla extract.
On our way back from the tour, we stopped at a local grocery store where we got some local coffee and an assortment of road trip snacks including ceviche-flavored plantain chips, which we ate for dinner because we were too pooped to go out.
The next morning, we had some of that 100% Arabica coffee, and Stacia & Jess were twitching, but it helped us get on the road by 7 am! Less than an hour later with a few bumps along the way, we were at Arenal River canyon for our canyoneering/zip-lining adventure.
We did 4 repels through waterfalls, 2 zip-lines, and 3 jumps into the water. Stacia was the most scared with me at a close second but only for the free-jumps. Frances took everything like a champ. Our lunch was included at the Mistico Hanging Bridges Park where we got a spectacular view of the Arenal volcano, saw an anteater, and got a huge plate of Costa Rican almuerzo.
Back at the BnB, we relaxed by reading in the hammock before getting dressed up and listening to our old college playlists. We hit up downtown La Fortuna and got two excellent tangerine ceviches because what is a meal in Costa Rica without ceviche?? We then got a drink at Lava Lounge, where we listened to some sub-par live reggae and hung out with a pregnant cat.
The next morning, we all woke up at our leisure and went to Mirador El Silencio for our morning rainforest hike, which included a trail with a great view of Arenal along volcanic rocks. We said “¡buenas!” to a few cows on our way out and then headed to the Ecotermales Hot Springs.
This is Arenal’s only truly natural hot springs, and it felt like paradise. We ate a wonderful buffet of fresh food and Stacia announced “I’ve never been happier in my life” as she held the bare chicken in her hands.
It was a little hot outside to be jumping from hot pool to hot pool but luckily we found a cooler spot and some shade. We left feeling completely relaxed.
For dinner, we went to La Street where Stacia and Frances split a huge taco platter, and I got fish with hearts of palm and mashed potatoes with a gooseberry on top. We ate until we could eat no more, and then we walked it off. Frances dove into a hearts of palm rabbit hole and learned that we should avoid single-stemmed hearts of palm.
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The Gray House [Full Build CC List]
The perfect home for a small family.
this house is built on a 20x15 lot as part of my series where I rebuild Foundry Cove in the style of an English Village, you can find the YouTube playlist here
§126,601 , 2 bedroom, 2 bathroom
base game, jungle adventure + cc
Custom Content
hanging pothos
fairy tea time books
royal dansk cookies
Grandma's changing table, crib + plush duck
baysic
baysic bathroom
river rocks
ceiling + floor lamp greatness
lavish
miscellanea standing books
slouch woven rug
the lighthouse collection
candles
room divider + frame
decorative pillows
delicious kitchen
metallic backsplash
vivid landscapes painting
stacked small plates
the bridge fridge
coastal 1
coastal 2
country 1
country 3
octave 1
octave 3
table lamp
calliope bathroom
glasses, H&B Star 5G + relatively comfortable living chair
delicato stuff pack
livin rum'
MAYAKEN cozy kitchen
laundry storage bin + industrial clothing rack
Mr art rug
garden stories
stacked canvases
glass vase
midsummer eve garden lantern
cutting boards
stack of books
orjanic 2
rock a stack
futura living
hamptons getaway
kitayama living
kitayama bedroom
auntie vera
coldbrew 2
coldbrew 3
david apartment 1
david apartment 2
domaine du clos 2
livingroom mini kit
mcm 1
mcm 2
mcm 3
mcm 4
oak house 2
oak house 4
oak house 5
the office mini kit
side table
rocky's rocks
nature's canvases + cuddle carpet
kessler kitchen pan
instant pod
tiny twavellers
ground mobile
ceramic bowl
wall lamp
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#sims 4#simblr#sims 4 download#download#custom content#custom build#sims 4 maxis match#sims 4 build#sims 4 home#forestgames03
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Love is swinging on the hammock above the water in Belize, it’s the taste of rum punch as you sit alone at the bar, it’s the sweet innocent eyes of the dogs at the shelter, and the cool ocean as you swim in the orange tinted water of the sunset. Love is a sweet smile to the boy who you just met, it’s your brown skin in the middle of summer, and the the bubbles blown from a 99 cent container. Love is the feeling of getting out of the pool and wrapping yourself in a blue striped towel, it’s rolling a blunt in the park with your high school crush, and the thrill of walking the Golden Gate Bridge for the first time. Love is chartering a yacht with your best friend and cruising the bay, it’s pulling off the side of the road to watch the horses run freely in the field, and being alone in Mexico drinking piña coladas. Love is spending New Year’s Eve alone in a foreign country and being okay with it, it’s walking down the cobble stone streets of Sayulita with an ice cream cone in hand, and taking too many Mezcal shots at the beach and meeting your soulmate. Love is holding puppies, it’s hiking to waterfalls in Africa, and sharing a monumental moment with a stranger. Love is going an a safari alone, it’s stopping for a photo on a staircase in Stonetown, and drinking a cup of coffee on a rooftop in the Indian Ocean. Love is swimming with turtles in Nungwi, it’s a fresh coconut on a traditional Dhow, and sipping martinis with the owner of the hostel you’re staying at. Love is lounging on the beach of Paje, it’s getting into a water taxi to cross Lake Atitlan, and taking an outdoor shower in the middle of the jungle. Love is picking out flowers for yourself in Chichicastenango, it’s a close up of you in the limestone river of Semuc Champey, and you swimming in the blue water at Lanikai. Love is a hug with a horse in the stables, it’s admiring your body for all that it is, and getting boozy at lunch on a Thursday at the best pasta restaurant in San Jose. Love is taking photos of yourself on a vacation after you quit your job, it’s falling in love with your surf instructor you met on the beach, and spending time on your balcony. Love is enjoying dinners alone, it’s getting dressed up for no reason, and jumping on the back of a motorcycle with some guy you met in Zanzibar at 1am. Love is blowing out the birthday candles on your restaurant dessert, it’s the bottom your jeans soaking wet while running away from the crashing ocean waves, it’s having a pool party alone. Love is coming back to yourself, it’s colorful, it’s worth it, and it’s all yours.
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Kensington blue
Lake Tahoe
The Weeknd
Brü & Brü fries
The Pope
Purple
Adventure Time
Handmaid's tale
The alley
The Lair
Molly
"Hey Google, Lisa's here"
Kennebunkport
Bed Peace
The Playlist
Raspberry vodka shots
Drake - Hold on, We're Going Home
The missing heart earring
Dancing for me to Mila J "Main One" in my living room
Rum Chata
This Must be the Place
Bike ride to the city the day Trump lost PA
Raisins, brah
Moving furniture, lots of furniture
Rick & Morty
Asheville
"Do you love me?" In that lil voice.
I'm a cat, I'm a kitty cat, and I meow meow meow and I meow meow meow"
"Skiddily do"
Babby <3
Complaining about you hurting me when popping pimples
Your half smile especially when you throw your hair back and run your fingers through it.
Where you at? On my way. How far? On my way.
Milkboy breakfasts
When you took me from work and bought me boots
Palmyra Day
Locust Rendezvous
You watching Facebook and YouTube videos at max volume on your phone
Lunch Island
Hershey Park
Your hair tie on my wrist
Christmas decorating
Drawing together with a subject and a timer
Free shavocado
Raven Lounge
Xmas Eve mushrooms
Maria
Fishtown
Blah blah blah
Niagra Falls trip
Reading me your Facebook drama
Wacky Zackys
Pub 2900
Pen pineapple apple pen
Steve's Prince of Steaks
Tinsel, Java, Purrloin, Pancake, Scrapple, Kika
"Lair hangs"
Texting each other bridge is up
Cheer competitions
Ocean Casino Resort
Combining two words into one
Seacrets
Ocean City MD
The patio
Pennypack
"I like yer germs"
Turning Point breakfasts with mom
Jim Thorpe
Snowboarding
alol
hh
Eagles Superbowl parade
"as you wish"
Blunts
The tray
IKEA trips
Rollerskating
Lair-eaze Lounge
Sheet metal rose
Snowboarding with Dani
Singing karaoke to me in Chinatown; Flaws and All
Singing for me in Fishtown on Frankford Ave
Bike rides in Pennypack
I Could Pee on This
Holiday Skate
Cooking dinner and drinks and music
Golden Monkey
Baths together
OCNJ
Family dinner chaos
Shop Rite
Vans
Changing outfits for me
The attic renovation
Star Wars room
MOD Pizza
Galaxy wall
Putting an injured pitbull into a police cruiser
The Family Guy mobile game
Butter brickle
'Buy Nothing' drops and pickups
Treasure Day
"b"
Gallo's Seafood
The quick ride on the tandem bike
The river
Fabrika
Wrestling
Taking William to and from karate
Egg hunt
Prime rib
Milanese
Painting rooms, you being the cutter and me the roller
Halloween skate at the Fillmore
Skating the Schuylkill river trail
Leaving $80 worth of food outside and late nights
You analyzing my moles and saying "I don't like it, it's got to go"
Red Lobster
Kisses
Hugs
The drawing, the tattoo
Skelly suit
Rainbow Optx glasses
White grape
Uncontrollable laughter at the hotel desk
Stickers on the vending machine
Bottle Bar
White Castle
Reading Terminal
Getting tattoos together half drunk
11th Street
"Happens"
"No peeper." "I can still taste the peeper"
Chromeo Old 45's
Franklin Institute
Socks
My favorite bathing suit on you
Fishtown Tavern mushrooms
Pho 20
Dim Sum Garden on Xmas
beanies
Skating in Reno
Kotex Super Plus
Astronaut earrings
Snapchat
"That one fam that nobody talks about"
Zelda doormat
Corner store
Happiness
saying I love you and meaning it
What We Do In The Shadows
Pandemic
Hosting Thanksgiving
I wanna build more.
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@twistedwit: "Hey, are you happy?" (wounded hearts)
There’s something to be said about London at night, something to be said for the way that normally crowded streets grow a bit more quiet, how easy it is to slip from the smoke filled haze of a pub to the welcoming darkness outside the door. He had stayed until the laughter was too loud, the burn of rum against rough lips not enough to chase the memories that settled like ash somewhere along the back of his throat... had stayed until he could feign the buzz of too much drink, exhaustion from a night well spent.. but as he stepped outside, Guy’s fingers wrapped loosely around his own and jacket collar tugged up against the wind, Killian could still hear that voice - his own, this time - call after him.
Coward.
Now he stands on Millennium Bridge, arms resting against the railing as forget-me-not blues follow the pricks of light reflected in the muddy water of the Thames, and he gives a huff at the older man’s question, breath leaving in a fog of white that hangs between them. Fuck being happy - his father’s voice carries through the years, an angry slur that crows in triumph at the river of salt that flows from his other’s eyes - and the Irishman furrows his brow at the memory, giving a quick shake of his head as if trying to free whatever hold his past still retains. Are you happy? Tongue presses to the inside of one cheek as he debates his answer - the night’s drinks have settled with a warmth in his middle, his throat is raw from song and raucous laughter, Guy is pressed against his flank, a reminder that he’s not alone, never alone.... and yet ...
“Are you?” The quiet words turn the doctor’s question in on itself and Killian finally shifts where he stands, giving the date at his side his prompt and full attention. The dull throb of his left wrist spikes into a current that travels up the length of his arm and the younger man instinctually tucks it away into a jacket pocket as if it’s possible to hide from something that’s not really there. “They tell you about nightmares, phantom pains, that we all grieve in our own ways...” There’s that huff of breath again, a bark of a laugh more akin to a scoff and the Irishman flickers his gaze to the moon above (it had always seemed so big over there..), for a single moment wishing he had a stone or two to throw into the water, a way through which to break up that cry for blood that howls inside. “... they don’t tell you about that emptiness, yeah? That feeling of a ghost waiting just ‘round the next corner, of never feeling like you’re really back .. “
One step sideways and he nudges his shoulder against the other’s own, fingers of his one hand seeking the other’s out until they wrap around one another in a grip akin to a lifeline. Are you happy? Killian considers it again - considers that yawning emptiness that has become his family, aye - but he also sees the roll of Starkey’s eyes at one of Smee’s daft bloody jokes, sees the way that Brigid nearly knocks herself over every time Killian comes to visit, tail whirring in the kitchen, and most importantly, he feels the pressure of Guy’s mouth on his, that quiet breathing next to his ear when it’s late at night and all the Irishman wants to remember is that he’s not alone. So when blue eyes hold stormy ones so alike in color to themselves, the answer he gives is as true as he can make it, sentiment punctuated by a squeeze of his companion’s hand.
“Aye...I think I’m starting to be.”
#twistedwit#v. Wounded Hearts#shit i have caught the feelings#could i have made this like three paras shorter by just writing like 5 fucking sentences instead of delving into his psyche?#probably.#do i regret what i did? no.#you're stuck with me. i don't take criticism#anyways i love them and i emoted writing this#i'd like to thank one republic and cher lloyd for this
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Bucket-list trip from Cairns to Cape York, The northernmost point in Australia.
Highlights:
DEEP water crossings, crocs (from a distance), rain forest one minute, wide open sun-baked zones with 10-20 foot ant sand castles (gotta be the ant capital of the world), 2nd most venomous snake in the world, shenanigans, the ultimate mobile 4WD camp support with the biggest camp griddle I’ve ever seen, more shenanigans, a little too much dirt road on day 3, bottomless cooler of beer and rum/cola mixes (aka Sweeties). Bonfires, REMOTE pubs, eating green ants, sketchiest car bridge and moto bridge I’ve seen, carrying bikes across rivers with sticks, maching through sand in the middle of the bush and along the ocean. Red dust that made me tan briefly, and I’ll be cleaning for a month: hidden waterfalls and swimming holes. The spectacular finish on a white sand beach (with a croc), then whisked away in a helicopter. Many thanks to Wade, Jeff and Great Northern Motorbike Adventures adventures for the most dialed support possible and the whole crew. Legends, all of ya.
The trip's inspiration was to ride bikes with Andrew Chino (who got me into dirt biking a decade ago) and his friends in a location few Australians visit.
But I had another motivation. While working mainly on the The Sierra Camino section of Orogenesis Collective, the first day hiking and MTB trail the length of the Sierra; I’ve been dreaming up a Moto alternative mostly east of 395 from Susanville to Lone Pine that will include a bunch of the terrain from Connected Communities. I am now confident Sierra Camino Moto will be one of the all-time bucket list 4—7 day moto rides. Hit me up for the rough draft now and if you want to be in on creating it. Thank you Viktoria McNamara for holding it down at home - next adventure will be with the whole family.
more photos and videos
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#etsy#smallbiz#photography#black and white#print#rum river#bridge#anoka#minnesota#travel#home decor#etsy gifts#etsy finds#etsy seller#etsy shop#etsy store#shop small
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“Taylor Sheridan vidgar välbekanta vyer” (publicerad i Filmrutan, nr. 2 2022)
Taylor Sheridan är den fattige ranchsonen som har blivit en maktspelare i Hollywood, kanske hela USA, genom sin produktion av nya moderna cowboyhistorier. Hans filmer och tv-serien Yellowstone har fått både urbana ”city slickers” och landsbygdsbor att än en gång flockas framför vilda västernhistorier där huvudpersonerna tar lagen i egna händer.
Hos Taylor Sheridan, som i många västerns tidigare, är det öga-för öga-mentaliteten som gäller. Och hur förankrad outlaw-kulturen kan vara i USA märks i dokumentärserien No One Saw a Thing (2019) som utforskar den lynchning som ägde rum i Skidmore, Missouri i början 1980-talet. En händelse där ortens plågoande sköts ihjäl på öppen gata av ett medborgargarde. I intervjuer med bybor, som alla höll tyst om gärningsmännens identiteter, dras paralleller till det gamla laglösa ”väst” och en våldskultur där folk tar lagen i egna händer. En intervjuad man konstaterar krasst: “That’s the history of our country, you get enough people riled up, they gonna do vigilante stuff.”
Och det är det samhället som Taylor Sheridan utnyttjar för att skapa sina okomplicerade men medryckande filmer och tv-serier. Sheridan är en oerhört produktiv berättare av den nya skolans västerns där nationen är en förljugen plats, där hopp och tillförsikt sedan länge har förbytts mot cynism och bitterhet.
Taylor Sheridan föddes på en liten gård i Texas som föräldrarna sedan förlorade och började sin filmkarriär som skådespelare, mest känd för sin roll i tv-serien Sons of Anarchy, innan han som 45-åring fick sitt stora genombrott som manusförfattare till filmen Sicario (2015), regisserad av Denis Villeneuve. Han skrev även manus till Hell or High Water (2016) innan han själv även axlade regissörsrollen i Wind River (2017). Dessa tre filmer ingår i Sheridans inofficiella “American frontier”-trilogi.
Filmrutans Per Eriksson har i sin text “Den gode, den onde och revolvern” (Filmrutan nr. 1, 2021) skrivit om “frontiermyten” och dess betydelse för “dagens polariserade amerikanska samhällslandskap”; hur den klassiska västerngenrens ideal än idag genomsyrar såväl politik som populärkultur. Om åskådaren traditionellt förmodas välja sida i kampen mellan gott och ont, tycks Sheridan vilja lösa upp kanterna och göra det svårare för publiken att ensidigt sympatisera med en filmhjälte, om någon alls. Historier där rättvisebegreppet är lika grumligt som distinktionen mellan rätt och fel.
I Hell or High Water, som kan beskrivas som Texas Noir, tycks Sheridan hämta inspiration från sin egen historia. Ben Foster och Chris Pine spelar två bröder vars ranch i västra Texas hotas att beslagtas av banken. De gör vad de anser krävs för att rädda ranchen; de rånar banken och får Jeff Bridges förhärdade Texas Ranger i bakhasorna. Bankväsendet beskrivs som del av ett riggat system, utformat till nackdel för den vanliga medborgaren, som vore det ett kasino. Därmed är brödernas huvudmotståndare inte så mycket en person, som den stat som tagit mer än den givit.
Sheridan har berättat i intervjuer om hur han byggde brödernas motiv utifrån det missnöjet och den frustrationen som människor känner när samhället sviker och närmiljön förfaller. Sheridans framgångar beror nog delvis på att han ger utrymme åt dem som sällan skildras, människorna som bor i det som lite hånfullt kallas “fly-over states”. Ett uttryck som i boken Supermakten: vad varje svensk bör veta om USA (2020) av Frida Stranne och Sanna Torén Björling, förklaras som ett begrepp som inom amerikansk politik används för områden med “landsortsbor med konservativa värderingar, skeptiska mot statligt styre och eliterna på öst- och västkusten.” Det vill säga de som bor i “stater med vidsträckta åkrar och rostande industristäder” som övriga flyger över på väg till mellan kusternas maktcentrum.
Förutom social desperation är den gammaltestamentliga rättvisan central för Sheridans skapande. I Sicario får Benicio del Toros rollfigur hämnas sin familj på grymmast tänkbara sätt och i Wind River är det Jeremy Renners viltvårdare som agerar såväl domare som bödel. En film som annars handlar om ett enligt filmen outforskat problem, att ett relativt högt antal kvinnor från den amerikanska ursprungsbefolkningen försvinner spårlöst, vilket uppges vara underrapporterat i den officiella statistiken.
De klassiska västernkonflikterna i Taylor Sheridans filmmanus ges ännu mer utrymme i de påkostade serierna som Sheridan skapat. I Yellowstone möter vi exempelvis ranchägaren John Dutton (Kevin Costner) och hans dysfunktionella familj i Montana. Där frodas lokalpatriotism och annat i genren välbekant tankegods, sällan så rättframt formulerat som när John Duttons guvernörskampanj lanseras med frasen: “Jag är motsatsen till utveckling”. Det är som om Taylor Sheridan vill ge oss åskådare en spegel och tvinga oss att ifrågasätta inte bara våra egna livsval, utan även våra förfäders och beroende på vem du är, eller kanske var du bor, ser du helt olika saker när du möter John Dutton och hans fiktiva gelikar.
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Family Reunion
Crisp clean air and a clear soft lit sky was perfect for taking photos. The trail was short and easy along the river to Clover Springs. This place always gave me a sense of peace and connection. It was the same place every year for the family reunion. Family always gave me a sense of place in the world.
Things were better for me now, but I was still dealing with the divorce. It had been about ten months since I left Richard, four months since the divorce was final. Memories of the day I delivered his copy of the final papers came back to me. It was annoying how these memories kept popping in to say hi when I just wanted to let go.
::It had been a mild but wet day when I arrived at the apartment we had once shared. Richard had been struggling, so a mutual friend agreed to be his roommate. My family home was waiting for me, so I left. Richard had no where, so his name stayed on the lease.
At this point half filled whiskey and rum bottles lined the kitchen counter. Richard answered the door and let me in. Inside I handed him the papers.
"Is this what you want?" He asked.
I nodded. "You already signed. These are the final papers, so it's done."
"I can do better."
"I hope you do." I said turning to leave. Any changes he made now would feel fleeting and fake.
"Natasha thinks you're making a mistake." His eyes went down cast when I glanced at him.
"Oh does she?" That was annoying. "You're still talking to her." See, nothing changed.
My hand was on the door.
"You should know this is it for me then." Richard spoke out and I froze. "It's over for me. I won't do anything stupid, because I know you don't want that, but I'm done. My life is done. All I'll ever do now is work eat and sleep."
I saw red. All that I had done for him, for us, everything we had been through over the years meant nothing. More than that, why he spoke those words hit me hard.
"You know the kind of woman I am, what words like that can do to someone like me." I spoke softly.
"I know." His voice was just as soft.
I rounded on him. "How dare you put that on my shoulders."
He froze. "That... that wasn't my intention.... I'm sorry." He stammered and quickly walked away.
That was the last time I had seen him. It was also a time when I had realized more about him and me. After everything, he was focused on what this was doing to him. He wanted me to focus on that too. There was no moment in our conversations where he mentioned what he had done to me.::
After a few deep breathes, I let that memory pass. I was here now. It was a beautiful day, perfect for a walk along the river to take pictures. As I walked, I let the sights, sounds, smells, and feel of this place comfort me and take my mind where it would.
Birdsong, rushing waters, cool clean air, and perfect light brightened everything. At the spring, I sat connected and open. It was the perfect day. I drank my fill, filled my canteen and took my pictures. Then I started slowly back down the trail, taking more pictures along the way.
At one point, the trail was high over the river, with a steep slope down to the rushing waters. There was a deep indent of earth along the trail bridges by two thick roots or branches of a felled tree. It was hard to tell. Between the roots was a perfect window to get a shot of the river.
I had to take it. After slowly testing the roots and the slope toward the water, I stepped onto the roots, and took my shot. A deep caw of a raven had me looking to the trees. My foot slipped.
As I fell I grabbed at one root but it snapped under the sudden weight. The grab had slowed me and pushed me back against the slope, just at a small jutting ledge held by a boulder. White hot pain shot up my ankle as I crumpled almost loosening the stone and slipping further down.
When I looked up I saw the branch I broke was the closest one to the trail. The other wasn't in safe reach. Maybe one of the parts of the root might hold me. Aside from a few scrapes and dirt and the fire in my ankle, I was okay. So I tried the barely there roots I could grab and pushed off with my good foot and...
Blinding pain shot up my bad ankle at slight pressure from trying to climb. My grip snapped and cut a gash from my wrist to the palm of my hand. I slid back to my little perch happy that it seemed steady for the moment.
That didn't work. How safe was it for me to wait for family or strangers to wander by on the trail. It was likely that would happen within an hour or so. This trail was a tradition for the reunion. As I looked around I thought the ground might be pretty saturated. Great...
More attempts at climbing and falling might be a risk. Finding a secure spot, staying put and crying out might be might best bet. So that's what I did.
"Hey... Hello...Anyone up there?"
Time blurred as I called out at any sound that sounded larger than a squirrel.
"Ann?"
A familiar deep voice cried from above me. Rion? How did I remember him? How did he remember me"
"I'm here." I cried out. "I slipped and can't climb out."
Seeing his unfamiliar face peaking down at me had me grinning like an idiot.
"Are ya injured?" He asked looking around for leverage.
The real concern in his eyes was startling... and comforting.
"My ankle, and..." I answered and showed him my hand.
He nodded. "Right."
His decision was made and he reached down with both hands as he lay on his stomach.
"It's gonna hurt a bit, but I need you to grab my wrist. Take a strong grip. Keep lookin at me. You may slip, but I won't let go. Okay?"
As he spoke I moved, grabbing his wrist with my good hand. His other hand grabbed my injured wrist. I nodded and cried out softly as it stung when I gripped him back. His soft light smile, as he paused to let me catch my breathe helped
"Now, yer good leg... ready?" The softness in his voice was a gentle urging.
I nodded, and launched well scrambled. It hurt. Every time I grunted or cried out, he murmured. I've got you. As I started to crawl onto the trail he scooted back to give me space. He let go of my injured hand and wrapped his arm around me, lifting and guiding me down the trail. With him half lifting me, my ankle didn't hurt too bad.
At a small boulder, Rion helped me sit, and handed me water and a snack from his pack.
"It'll help a bit." He smiled softly again.
"Thank you." I accepted, watching him closely.
His eyes took me in then landed on my camera for a moment. Somehow that had stayed on. I hoped there wasn't much damage if any.
"What brings you up here?" He asked. "Photography? not a common place fer it." His tone was friendly and curious.
As he spoke, he turned and opened his first aide kit. He knew what he was doing.
"It's a nice place for it though." I countered.
"Aye," he agreed.
While he inspected my injured hand, he subtly checked my pulse as my wrist.
"No I'm out here with my family. It's a reunion."
"Oh? Nice place fer that too." He started bandaging my wrist and hand.
I nodded and accepted the Advil he handed me. "Why are you here?" I asked.
He shot me a look and pulled out a small ice pack and a ace bandage for my ankle.
"Not that I'm complaining." I amended, wincing as he checked my ankle.
"Sorry," he murmured and secured the bandage. "Some friends and I come up here fer Litha."
"Oh that's right, the solstice." I must have lit up.
His soft chuckle had me blushing but I smiled at him.
"Can ye stand love?" He sat back holding his arm out to help me.
With his help, I awkwardly was back on my own two feet.
"Good, can ye walk?"
I nodded. "With help, I should be fine."
He nodded and stepped closer to my side. "Put as much weight on me as ya need. Let's get you back to yer family."
Before long on the trail, we ran into my brother, Todd. Todd took one look at me and Rion and was instantly tense. Without hesitation, Rion handed me off to my brother. I rushed to make introductions. My brother was highly protective of me, especially lately. It didn't help that he had something like a high functioning autism. A lot of times I was the only one who could relate to him. It was good that I was living with him now. Mom and Dad could have their retirement and Todd wouldn't be alone.
"Todd, this is Rion. I told you about him, the day I went to the Green Lady ritual. He's the one who stuck up for me and made me welcome." That helped a little. Todd relaxed slightly.
"Rion, this is my brother Todd. He's one of my best friends." Rion bowed slightly at the hip with that soft friendly smile of his.
"One?" Todd pouted.
"Liz." I reminded him.
"Oh... yeah" Todd brightened.
Just then my uncle and aunt followed by other relatives came into view.
"Lia!" Aunt Hellen called. "We were getting worried."
I grinned at my family and made introductions. Then it was time to return to camp and rest.
"Perhaps next year we can meet and share a feast." He offered his hand. As I took it, I felt a small piece of paper. He bowed slightly over my hand. "Call me if ya like."
The piece of paper of course had his number on it. "I'd like that. I will call you later."
"Be well, Ann." He murmured as he gave a small farewell bow to my family, turned and walked away.
"Ann?" A few people questioned.
"That's how he know me. It's my craft name." I mumbled suddenly shy.
A few people shuffled uncomfortable. Not everyone was comfortable with me being a witch. They had just watched, what they would assume, a second one walk away.
The rest of the reunion went by in a blur of smiles and jokes. It was everything I needed. Rion slipped somewhere to the back of my mind. He could wait.
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Joes River Bridge, Bathsheba, Barbados. New foreign owned project?
https://youtu.be/LPZTm3PXjP8
youtube
Maybe if there were less rum shops in Barbados, Bajans would own more of the island. Naked!!
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Caribbean First half
The first half of our Caribbean adventure is now done and we are embarking on the second phase of the trip. So far we have journeyed to Tenerife and across the Atlantic on a very calm voyage, to reach Barbados where we had our first stop and an amazing excursion snorkelling with turtles and over shipwrecks having a wonderful day out on a catamaran, even better by being accompanied by copious amounts of Rum punch!
Our next stop should have been Bonaire in the Dutch Antilles, but there was some form of ship docking conflict so we detoured to Greneda instead and had a fun morning in clear bottom kayaks also across reefs and seeing corals and fish, though not as clearly as snorkelling. This was one of the nicer islands though we did get caught in a rainstorm when we walked around Carenage in the afternoon.
Two days on we arrived in Curacao, and another underwater adventure , this time in a mini sub (ie under a boat) which was also good and we did see a lot though it wasn't easy to take pictures. We also went to the Curacao factory and tasted a few different flavours before the inevitable purchase! We got back reasonably early so walked over the pontoon bridge into the town (Wilemsburg) and then found some really lovely seafood for lunch before return to the ship and onwards again to our next stop in Colombia.
Colombia was a tricky one given Andy's past in living here so I headed into the city on a trip without him firstly on a speedboat across the harbour and then on the city walls and Fort Phillippe and the old town. The boat and fort were great and we did manage to gt some wifi at the merald centre in town but the street hawkers were constantly in your face which i found very annoying. Back at the cruise terminal there was a colleaction of animals and birds which proved very attractive to the cruisers. Andy met me there and we had some traditonal Colombian food, which he suggested (it was good) and then we wandered around seeing the animals and birds -I've now seen my first live toucan - yay.
Then it was back on ship and off to our most recent stop yesterday in Jamaica. We hadn't originally planned a trip here but were warned that we wouldn't be very close to town and being a sunday in a very church based country, a trip proved a sensible option. We chose to go to Dunns River Falls and climb the waterfall - literally. I did wonder how my knees and hip would take it but it was actually better than I thought and we had a great time, something I'd definitely do again. We did get rather wet though and I'd forgotten a change of clothes so lunch was a little damp, though with excellent food yet again.
In between the stops life on ship has fallen into a pattern of breakfast, quiz, sunbathe, get too hot so lunch, quiz, music quiz, sun, doze, watch Game of Thrones, quiz, dinner, evening entertainment. quiz. I've taken part in a couple of gameshows and tried archery when its not too windy. all in all a very chilled out existence.
We've made some good friends who we hang about with particularly for quizes in Graham and Sonia (and sometimes Kim and Martin) and its a generally friendly bunch onboard, if not a somewhat older age group than our previous trip. Food is good and plentiful and entertainment generally ok though we have missed a few like the flautist and tap dancing!
Will post a selection of photos of the trip so far - might be a few duplicates to previous posts - sorry in advance!
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