Less than 2 miles from my house. Grown to 600+ acres in under three hours, 30+ mile wind gusts on super dry ground.
Sprinklers are set on the roof, kids, dogs, and rabbit are in the car, and we’re going to spend some time with gramma. Based on the smoke and wind direction, looks like about a 50/50 chance we get to test the fire resistance of the metal roof and metal siding in, I dunno, a half hour?
We’re safe at grammas, watching Project Hail Mary. Neighbor says the fire so far has stayed about two blocks north of our road, so that’s good. I Complained at him about staying through the evacuation order, but it’s also nice to get texted a picture of my house not being burned. Apparently there are lots of DNR planes dropping water in our area and he thinks it’s helping.
Good chance of rain tomorrow, so let’s just hope the wind doesn’t change direction for awhile.
Got to go home yesterday. From my house you can’t see a thing.
The main fire actually wasn’t as close as my neighbor reported. Kids and I took a walk… there were little burned spots starting like two-three blocks away. Almost like sparks or something was setting things alight. Even almost a half mile down, it doesn’t look like it got that hot.
There’s still green in there. We were definitely on the edge of it.
Overall, I give the whole experience zero stars. Do not recommend.
Less than 2 miles from my house. Grown to 600+ acres in under three hours, 30+ mile wind gusts on super dry ground.
Sprinklers are set on the roof, kids, dogs, and rabbit are in the car, and we’re going to spend some time with gramma. Based on the smoke and wind direction, looks like about a 50/50 chance we get to test the fire resistance of the metal roof and metal siding in, I dunno, a half hour?
We’re safe at grammas, watching Project Hail Mary. Neighbor says the fire so far has stayed about two blocks north of our road, so that’s good. I Complained at him about staying through the evacuation order, but it’s also nice to get texted a picture of my house not being burned. Apparently there are lots of DNR planes dropping water in our area and he thinks it’s helping.
Good chance of rain tomorrow, so let’s just hope the wind doesn’t change direction for awhile.
Less than 2 miles from my house. Grown to 600+ acres in under three hours, 30+ mile wind gusts on super dry ground.
Sprinklers are set on the roof, kids, dogs, and rabbit are in the car, and we’re going to spend some time with gramma. Based on the smoke and wind direction, looks like about a 50/50 chance we get to test the fire resistance of the metal roof and metal siding in, I dunno, a half hour?
Since the start of the year, over a dozen cities have voted to fly the old Minnesota flag instead of the redesigned flag adopted in 2024.
You know we wouldnt be having these dumb arguments about the state flag if we had just gone with the laser loon flag, which everyone loved whole heartedly
I’m on board with laser loon!! The old one needed to be burned, but the new one is… boring. Zero personality. Waste of good money.
But I also think the controversy is very stupid. It’s a flag. It’s low stakes. Nobody really cares. It’s something easy to argue about, while real issues get ignored.
… or in the case of my local government, deliberately shelved and pushed to the back because *gasp* we can’t change the flag!! What horror! We must stand and fight!!
I’ve had something like thirty different jobs in my life. My picture is next to ‘grass is always greener’ in the dictionary. I’ve only had two jobs that have lasted longer than three years. The one previous to this, and when I worked at the Dairy Queen during high school.
All this to say, I saw an open job position on Friday and went, ‘that’d be fun’. Yes, I’ve only been at my current job since August. So like eight-nine months. And yes, this was going to be my ‘settle down’ job where I was going to Adult Properly and do the Career thing and not switch jobs every year so my children could have the fabled Stability.
I applied over the weekend. Why not, since nobody Is getting hired right now and I doubt my resume is going to get through their AI filters. All I’m doing is wasting my own time, right?
I now have an interview scheduled for Wednesday. The nice lady on the phone sounded utterly psyched to meet me. Her email response to confirming the date and time was literally “BEST DAY!!”
My husband rolled his eyes when I told him. I’m not sure what to do with this, since I applied in a whim with no real plans to leave my current position.
It’s been much better! Thanks!! Today’s annoying earworm is ‘…Baby One More Time’ which, while I’ve only been up a half hour and I’m ready to claw out my eardrums, at least isn’t traumatic.
My psychiatrist replied to my message telling me that the medication I’m on does not have earworms listed as a potential side effect, and certainly the medication cannot be pulling up repressed memories. I’m apparently engaging in - her words - ‘placebo symptoms’.
Here’s the thing though: I do not get earworms. I consciously play songs in my head all the time, but it’s always been a choice, and I shuffle between ‘inner monologue’ and ‘radio’ with little overlap. I can’t do both at once. Never have been. One track mind, i guess.
This is different. This is a nonstop, endless, can’t control it, background noise on repeat, playing a song behind the voice in my head. It’s horribly distracting.
And also, does it matter if it’s placebo or a real thing, ms psychiatrist? Haven’t studies shown that the placebo effect is incredibly powerful?
Meh. I’ll have to decide if the symptoms are worth it sooner or later. Right now, I have bigger fish to fry than an annoying jingle in my head.
So I’ve been struggling with a series of what my therapist says are panic attacks - which I continue to refuse to admit are anything other than feeling like I’m about to have a panic attack. It’s not quite the same feeling. But either way, it’s a struggle, so she’s put me on a new med to try.
It’s having an interesting side effect of pulling random old tunes out of the dust bin of my memory. The first one was the main background song on one of my favorite movies as a kid: Homeward Bound, which I have not thought about in years. The second was Rockapella’s epic theme to the PBS classic Where in the World is Carmen Sandiago? Which I have probably not seen or thought about in over twenty years, but somehow could remember every single rocking word.
The current one has been bothering me for days. It’s a musical tune that I couldn’t place. I hummed it to a number of people who were also clueless. I’m not great at picturing things in my mind, but I vaguely thought it had like a figure backlit, slowly raising their arms like an angel. Then I got it, today, just randomly, while trying to teach the difference between perihelion and aphelion. Not sure how, I just suddenly knew. It’s the theme song to the 1980’s show fucking Quantum Leap. When was the last time I saw the show? Five? Maybe seven years old if my parents were still a watching to the end?
WTF is this medication? Where are these random songs coming from? What other musical horrors of my childhood is this medication going to unlock?
I found new depths of hell with this yesterday. Making me think i want to not be taking this medication anymore.
If you go down in the woods today…
I woke up with a song in my head I didn’t know. Like, never heard this song before.
You’re sure for a big surprise…
Do you know how freaky it is to just be humming along to an ear worm you have zero memory of ever hearing? I decided that my brain must have made it up. Because this song does not exist.
It’s lovely down in the woods today….
It’s also a very creepy song. So at lunch i looked it up.
So you’d better go in disguise…
It’s a very real song. I sat there, listening to music I’d been humming all morning, hearing words that I perfectly knew… and I’d never ever heard this song before.
For every bear that ever there was…
I was thoroughly creeped out. I’ve never felt something so deep down dreadful as listening to this song play, knowing I’d never heard it before, but yet somehow knowing every single fucking word to this song. I apparently have a memory… I don’t remember.
Was gathered there for certain because…
I called my mother last night, because she would know, right? As long as i wasn’t going crazy, because that thought was definitely up there as a possibility. Along with super traumatic repressed memory. All things i didn’t really want to be true but couldn’t come up with a better explanation.
Today’s the day the teddy bears have their picnic!
My mom laughed at me. And told me that when I was a baby, they had a record player. And there was this one record - Teddy Bear’s Picnic - that was my favorite. I’d dance and babble along every time. But around my second birthday, the record player broke. And being the 1980’s, my parents upgraded to newer technology. Apparently she still has the record - it came with a little book of pictures of bears.
So no, not crazy. Not repressing trauma. A real song from when i was a toddler. From before I’m supposed to have been able to form long-term memories.
This medication is causing more anxiety than is fixing, I’m thinking.
If you want to listen to creepy song as well, here you go. This is the song was haunting my brain yesterday.
So I’ve been struggling with a series of what my therapist says are panic attacks - which I continue to refuse to admit are anything other than feeling like I’m about to have a panic attack. It’s not quite the same feeling. But either way, it’s a struggle, so she’s put me on a new med to try.
It’s having an interesting side effect of pulling random old tunes out of the dust bin of my memory. The first one was the main background song on one of my favorite movies as a kid: Homeward Bound, which I have not thought about in years. The second was Rockapella’s epic theme to the PBS classic Where in the World is Carmen Sandiago? Which I have probably not seen or thought about in over twenty years, but somehow could remember every single rocking word.
The current one has been bothering me for days. It’s a musical tune that I couldn’t place. I hummed it to a number of people who were also clueless. I’m not great at picturing things in my mind, but I vaguely thought it had like a figure backlit, slowly raising their arms like an angel. Then I got it, today, just randomly, while trying to teach the difference between perihelion and aphelion. Not sure how, I just suddenly knew. It’s the theme song to the 1980’s show fucking Quantum Leap. When was the last time I saw the show? Five? Maybe seven years old if my parents were still a watching to the end?
WTF is this medication? Where are these random songs coming from? What other musical horrors of my childhood is this medication going to unlock?
Danny managed to ignore the increasingly annoying limo tailing his every step for seven blocks - about two blocks longer than he’d originally thought he’d get away with - before Vlad became Unignorable. A flare of red energy grabbed him off the street and into an open seat in the car.
Danny leaned back in the chair and turned his gaze onto Vlad, fully prepared to be as unhelpful and dumb as possible. While the two of them had settled into a sort of truce, Danny felt that cooperating took their break in hostilities a step too far. Then he blinked a few times, startled at the older man’s bloodshot eyes, the deep bags under his eyes, and skin far more pale than usual. “You’re not sick are you?” Danny asked, scooting as far away as the limo seat would allow. “I don’t want some sort of ghost-illness-”
“I’m not sick,” Vlad snapped. “And you don’t look much better.”
With a scowl, Danny folded his arms across his chest. Yes, he hadn’t been sleeping well, and he couldn’t quite blame the ghosts. They’d been decently quiet recently. “Did you kidnap me just so that we could yell at each other for a while? Did you miss my… what did you call it… my witty repartee?”
Vlad closed his eyes and took a deep breath, waiting several long seconds before he spoke. “We need to talk about what is coming.”
When it seemed like Vlad wasn’t going to continue past that cryptic statement, Dany arched an eyebrow and parrotted. “Coming?”
Vlad was still quiet. He sat there, drumming his fingers against his knees, staring blankly forward.
Danny waited, and waited, and waited, until his admittedly thin patience ran out. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in several days, school had been particularly annoying today, and the extremely unfair afterschool detention he’d just been released from had stolen almost everything he’d had left. “Are you just going to sit there and take a nap? Can I leave?”
Vlad scowled at him. “They are coming. And you can feel it too - I can see that you haven’t been sleeping either.”
“Great,” Danny said, his voice full of fake enthusiasm. “They. Thanks for the clarification. Really clears everything up. Can I go now?”
“They are a group of people that are like us. Human-ghost hybrids.”
“There isn’t anybody else like us,” Danny retorted instantly. “Other than the clones you made, I guess.”
“Oh, don’t be stupid, Daniel.”
“I’m not stupid, Vladdie,” Danny snapped. “Just how many other people do you think have stumbled into my parents’ ghost portals? I’m fairly certain they only made the two.”
Vlad froze, seemingly caught off guard by the statement. “I… was unaware you hadn’t thought this through,” the man said slowly, “just that you hadn’t met any of them.”
Danny felt energy flicker into his eyes, momentarily twisting the colors of the limo into lurid swirls. “They. Them. You’re doing a stellar job explaining this whole thing. You either need to step up and cut the insults, or let me out.”
“Daniel-”
“I’m serious Vlad. You have about twenty more seconds before I blast my way out of your car.”
Vlad made a chopping motion with his hand. “Oh, grow up a smidge, would you? I’ve done nothing here to harm you. I’m attempting to help-”
“You don’t seem like you’re attempting to help!” Danny scowled and crossed his arms. “They’re coming! They’re coming! You sound like someone forecasting the end of the world. Or the sky falling.”
Vlad met Danny’s scowl with one of his own. “You make it very hard to help you,” Vlad said through his teeth. “Leave then, if you so desire.” The limo came to a stop and Vlad gestured towards the door. “Face the future on your own. I won’t stop you.”
Danny glanced at the door, then at the pale and sleep-deprived Vlad. Danny swallowed his frustration and ran a hand over his face. “You make it very hard to believe you want to help anyone other than yourself,” he grumbled, settling in to hear whatever the man had to say. “So who’s they?” he asked.
“People like us.”
“Yeah, so you said. But… where would more of us come from?”
“You are aware that ghost portals open all the time.” Vlad paused, arching a pale eyebrow, seemingly waiting for some sort of response from Danny. When Danny refused to respond to such a stupid statement, Vlad eventually continued. “A decently predictable number of portals are open at any given time, and they last a somewhat predictable amount of time.”
Danny nodded again. “I read my mom’s research paper too, you know. You gonna say anything new?”
Vlad glared at him. “There is approximately 130 million square kilometers of habitable land on this planet, about 2 square meters of which are covered in ghost portals on any given day, and human bodies cover about 0.0015% of our planet, so over the course of a normal human lifespan, one can expect a statistical number of humans to be caught in naturally opening portals.”
Danny blinked. “And how many would that be?”
Vlad scoffed. “It’s quite simple math, Little Badger.”
All good will vanished from Danny’s brain. “Simple for you, since you stole it from my parents,” he said under his breath, but just loudly enough to ensure that Vlad heard each word clearly.
Vlad’s teeth clicked together, his mouth pursing and his back straightening. “I’ve been trying to remain civil due to my… our… current lack of sleep. But listen, and listen closely, child, because I am at the end of my patience. I’ve dealt with these beings several times, and I’ve learned to stay out of their way. They will offer you whatever you want - they are sirens, able to pluck your desires out of your mind - and they will seem like they are your friends. But like Odysseus, you can’t listen to them. They will drag you into the depths and feast from your tears.”
“That’s foreboding.” Danny looked at Vlad’s exhausted eyes and the pale, tired way he held his shoulders. “So you think I’m going to trust you enough that when you say to stay away, I will.”
There was a long silence as Vlad stared at him. “If I’ve learned anything this last year, it’s that you’ll do what you want no matter what I have to say about it,” he said. “I tried.”
Danny arched an eyebrow. There was an odd note to Vlad’s voice that made him wonder, just for a moment, if he should listen to what Vlad was saying.
“Get out now.” The limo stopped by the side of the road and the door opened, seemingly of it’s own accord.
“But what if I-” Danny started, but a very dangerous red flashed into Vlad’s eyes. “Yeah-okay. Bye V-man.” He slipped out of the limo and found himself standing on the sidewalk nearly back to the school - the place he’d been walking away from when Vlad had picked him up. “What the…” He spun in a circle, blinking in surprise. “You drove me back to school? I just finished with this place!”
There was a light cackling from inside the limo as the door closed.
Danny scowled as the limo drove off down the street. “Fruitloop,” he grumbled, starting to walk towards home for a second time. He was tired, he certainly didn’t need to do this walk twice.
Every few hundred feet he found himself glancing off to the west. There was no denying that the feeling Vlad had mentioned was getting stronger and stronger. The source of it was over there somewhere, and getting closer with every passing hour.
Danny stopped at the edge of the park, staring off into the western sky. It was starting to tinge colors with the sunset. “People like me,” he whispered.
Danny sat on the roof of the school, watching the sun rise. He’d slept even worse that night than usual. A combination of excitement, anxiety, and longing kept him tossing and turning well past the point where he normally collapsed from exhaustion. He crossed his legs and leaned back against an HVAC unit, sipping at one of his sisters energy drinks.
He wasn’t sure what to think. He was far too tired for his brain to work properly this morning. He just stared off to the horizon, where that feeling was coming from, watching the western sky change colors as the sun rose lazily higher and higher behind him and thin wisps of clouds drifted across the sky. They were closer and clearer this morning. It almost felt… bubbly. Like soda brushing against his brain.
The bell rang before Danny realized it was time for school. He groaned and struggled to his feet, brain still in a daze, and dropped through the roof into the building, only belatedly realizing he probably looked horrible enough he could have conned his parents into a day off.
“Mr Fenton.” Lancer stopped him on his way to first period, pulling him into an empty classroom and studying him for a long moment before asking, “are you okay? Do you need to talk to someone?”
Danny blinked at the man. Mr Lancer - the only other person Danny knew who was better than him at the ‘if you ignore a problem long enough it’ll go away’ thought process - was asking him - the loser freak that, in Lancer’s mind, lived to annoy the precious football team - about his life. That… wasn’t a good sign. “I look that bad, huh?” he said, not really meaning it to be out loud.
“Yes.” The man leaned against the wall, arms crossed. “Life’s a struggle right now?”
Danny had no real answer to that. Without going into a whole other dimension’s worth of issues, there really wasn’t much he could tell the teacher. “A bit,” he finally answered. “And I think I’m coming down with something.”
Lancer nodded slowly. “If I may be frank, you look like you need two days of sleep and a therapist. What can I help you with?”
A little grin flicked onto his lips. His sister would agree - he did need two days of sleep and a therapist. Probably more than one therapist. “Can I skip the test tomorrow?” he asked hopefully.
The teacher’s eyes narrowed just a touch. “Would that actually help?”
“No, probably not,” Danny grumbled. He wasn’t stressing over an English test; he was stressing over many larger issues. “Talking my parents into letting me stay home would, though. But I think I’d have to be hospitalized before they’re going to let me stay home.”
“An issue of your own creation, I believe,” Lancer said.
Danny bit back an answer to that, looking down at his toes.
“I’m going to set you up an appointment with the school counselor for this afternoon.” Danny flinched at the memory of the last time he’d been in the school counselor’s room. The man either didn’t notice or didn’t care; he straightened up and brushed his hands on his pants. “You should think through what might help you. The counselor can help you pull a few strings if you need.”
“Yeah,” Danny muttered.
“To class then,” Lancer said, ushering him back to the door. “I’ll excuse your tardy.”
Danny nodded, watching as the man walked away down the nearly empty hallway and listening to the man’s voice chide other students who were late to class. His brain still felt like mush. Two hundred milligrams of caffeine had done nothing for him.
Something fizzed against his mind and Danny twisted, staring at a wall. They were getting closer.
--
Danny had been a half-ghost long enough to get the feel for when things happened in his town. That was why, at some point during math class, Danny realized that Vlad had disappeared. The man had skipped town, just at those others - the they - got close.
That made Danny pause. While Vlad’s warning had been ominous, he was well known to exaggerate, lie, and otherwise twist everything he said to deliberately put Danny in the wrong position. Vlad was as trustworthy as a brick promising it wouldn’t hit you on the head if you held it over you and let go.
But then again… Vlad had just… left. Before they got here. And that tone to his voice yesterday had been one Danny hadn’t heard before.
What if Vlad had been telling him the truth?
Danny couldn’t quite shake that feeling out of his brain. The tense, nervous-excited feeling twisting inside of him took on a darker tinge. But there was nothing to be done for it other than try to focus on calculating angles of triangles. A skill that felt even less relevant than normal right then.
--
It was during English class that they arrived. He felt them, one by one, step into the boundary of his town. One, then two, three, four, and five. It almost felt like they were announcing themselves, standing there, waiting for permission to enter.
A glance at the clock told him the class was over in eleven minutes. He had until then to decide if he was going to stay at school like he had promised he would do, or if he was going to find out how loud his mother was willing to yell when she found out he’d left.
Danny managed to ignore the increasingly annoying limo tailing his every step for seven blocks - about two blocks longer than he’d originally thought he’d get away with - before Vlad became Unignorable. A flare of red energy grabbed him off the street and into an open seat in the car.
Danny leaned back in the chair and turned his gaze onto Vlad, fully prepared to be as unhelpful and dumb as possible. While the two of them had settled into a sort of truce, Danny felt that cooperating took their break in hostilities a step too far. Then he blinked a few times, startled at the older man’s bloodshot eyes, the deep bags under his eyes, and skin far more pale than usual. “You’re not sick are you?” Danny asked, scooting as far away as the limo seat would allow. “I don’t want some sort of ghost-illness-”
“I’m not sick,” Vlad snapped. “And you don’t look much better.”
With a scowl, Danny folded his arms across his chest. Yes, he hadn’t been sleeping well, and he couldn’t quite blame the ghosts. They’d been decently quiet recently. “Did you kidnap me just so that we could yell at each other for a while? Did you miss my… what did you call it… my witty repartee?”
Vlad closed his eyes and took a deep breath, waiting several long seconds before he spoke. “We need to talk about what is coming.”
When it seemed like Vlad wasn’t going to continue past that cryptic statement, Dany arched an eyebrow and parrotted. “Coming?”
Vlad was still quiet. He sat there, drumming his fingers against his knees, staring blankly forward.
Danny waited, and waited, and waited, until his admittedly thin patience ran out. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in several days, school had been particularly annoying today, and the extremely unfair afterschool detention he’d just been released from had stolen almost everything he’d had left. “Are you just going to sit there and take a nap? Can I leave?”
Vlad scowled at him. “They are coming. And you can feel it too - I can see that you haven’t been sleeping either.”
“Great,” Danny said, his voice full of fake enthusiasm. “They. Thanks for the clarification. Really clears everything up. Can I go now?”
“They are a group of people that are like us. Human-ghost hybrids.”
“There isn’t anybody else like us,” Danny retorted instantly. “Other than the clones you made, I guess.”
“Oh, don’t be stupid, Daniel.”
“I’m not stupid, Vladdie,” Danny snapped. “Just how many other people do you think have stumbled into my parents’ ghost portals? I’m fairly certain they only made the two.”
Vlad froze, seemingly caught off guard by the statement. “I… was unaware you hadn’t thought this through,” the man said slowly, “just that you hadn’t met any of them.”
Danny felt energy flicker into his eyes, momentarily twisting the colors of the limo into lurid swirls. “They. Them. You’re doing a stellar job explaining this whole thing. You either need to step up and cut the insults, or let me out.”
“Daniel-”
“I’m serious Vlad. You have about twenty more seconds before I blast my way out of your car.”
Vlad made a chopping motion with his hand. “Oh, grow up a smidge, would you? I’ve done nothing here to harm you. I’m attempting to help-”
“You don’t seem like you’re attempting to help!” Danny scowled and crossed his arms. “They’re coming! They’re coming! You sound like someone forecasting the end of the world. Or the sky falling.”
Vlad met Danny’s scowl with one of his own. “You make it very hard to help you,” Vlad said through his teeth. “Leave then, if you so desire.” The limo came to a stop and Vlad gestured towards the door. “Face the future on your own. I won’t stop you.”
Danny glanced at the door, then at the pale and sleep-deprived Vlad. Danny swallowed his frustration and ran a hand over his face. “You make it very hard to believe you want to help anyone other than yourself,” he grumbled, settling in to hear whatever the man had to say. “So who’s they?” he asked.
“People like us.”
“Yeah, so you said. But… where would more of us come from?”
“You are aware that ghost portals open all the time.” Vlad paused, arching a pale eyebrow, seemingly waiting for some sort of response from Danny. When Danny refused to respond to such a stupid statement, Vlad eventually continued. “A decently predictable number of portals are open at any given time, and they last a somewhat predictable amount of time.”
Danny nodded again. “I read my mom’s research paper too, you know. You gonna say anything new?”
Vlad glared at him. “There is approximately 130 million square kilometers of habitable land on this planet, about 2 square meters of which are covered in ghost portals on any given day, and human bodies cover about 0.0015% of our planet, so over the course of a normal human lifespan, one can expect a statistical number of humans to be caught in naturally opening portals.”
Danny blinked. “And how many would that be?”
Vlad scoffed. “It’s quite simple math, Little Badger.”
All good will vanished from Danny’s brain. “Simple for you, since you stole it from my parents,” he said under his breath, but just loudly enough to ensure that Vlad heard each word clearly.
Vlad’s teeth clicked together, his mouth pursing and his back straightening. “I’ve been trying to remain civil due to my… our… current lack of sleep. But listen, and listen closely, child, because I am at the end of my patience. I’ve dealt with these beings several times, and I’ve learned to stay out of their way. They will offer you whatever you want - they are sirens, able to pluck your desires out of your mind - and they will seem like they are your friends. But like Odysseus, you can’t listen to them. They will drag you into the depths and feast from your tears.”
“That’s foreboding.” Danny looked at Vlad’s exhausted eyes and the pale, tired way he held his shoulders. “So you think I’m going to trust you enough that when you say to stay away, I will.”
There was a long silence as Vlad stared at him. “If I’ve learned anything this last year, it’s that you’ll do what you want no matter what I have to say about it,” he said. “I tried.”
Danny arched an eyebrow. There was an odd note to Vlad’s voice that made him wonder, just for a moment, if he should listen to what Vlad was saying.
“Get out now.” The limo stopped by the side of the road and the door opened, seemingly of it’s own accord.
“But what if I-” Danny started, but a very dangerous red flashed into Vlad’s eyes. “Yeah-okay. Bye V-man.” He slipped out of the limo and found himself standing on the sidewalk nearly back to the school - the place he’d been walking away from when Vlad had picked him up. “What the…” He spun in a circle, blinking in surprise. “You drove me back to school? I just finished with this place!”
There was a light cackling from inside the limo as the door closed.
Danny scowled as the limo drove off down the street. “Fruitloop,” he grumbled, starting to walk towards home for a second time. He was tired, he certainly didn’t need to do this walk twice.
Every few hundred feet he found himself glancing off to the west. There was no denying that the feeling Vlad had mentioned was getting stronger and stronger. The source of it was over there somewhere, and getting closer with every passing hour.
Danny stopped at the edge of the park, staring off into the western sky. It was starting to tinge colors with the sunset. “People like me,” he whispered.
I saw on our local news that Pokémon cards were becoming a Thing again. Like, an Investment device and whatnot.
Like Beanie Babies. Such an investment.
I was big into Pokémon… in the age of Red and Blue. I loved buying the cards and drawing the characters. I don’t think I ever once played the game. I spent an utter shitload of hard earned DQ paychecks on Pokémon cards in high school in the late 90s.
Got me thinking. So I dug the box out of the attic and started looking at my almost twenty-five year forgotten collection.
I have not one, not two, but SIX boxes of cards. At 800 cards per box. I flipped through them for a minute and found a dozen holographic, rare, twenty+ year old cards that were never played with. I cannot BELIEVE how much money I wasted on these pieces of paper.
But my kids are fascinated and are helping me sort. My daughter looked up the directions for the game and wants to learn how to play.
I’m sure they’re worth nearly nothing, sort of like beanie babies are worth nothing, but it sure would be interesting to have someone who knows something about these cards come over for dinner one night. Maybe the total collection is worth what I paid for it. ;)
I refuse to believe people are paying hundreds of dollars for a Pokémon card. I honestly do not believe this website. I absolutely don’t believe I’m holding a little piece of paper that could be worth hundreds of dollars, and who knows how many other cards are scattered through those boxes.
People are NUTS!
…I may pick through them and post more pictures I’d what I find now, though. Now I’m curious about what’s in the boxes. I really didn’t look that much.
You convinced me to have my kids look through my collection and put the holographic ones in protectors. We’re up to 100 holographic cards and counting. I ran out of protective sleeves. :)
I saw on our local news that Pokémon cards were becoming a Thing again. Like, an Investment device and whatnot.
Like Beanie Babies. Such an investment.
I was big into Pokémon… in the age of Red and Blue. I loved buying the cards and drawing the characters. I don’t think I ever once played the game. I spent an utter shitload of hard earned DQ paychecks on Pokémon cards in high school in the late 90s.
Got me thinking. So I dug the box out of the attic and started looking at my almost twenty-five year forgotten collection.
I have not one, not two, but SIX boxes of cards. At 800 cards per box. I flipped through them for a minute and found a dozen holographic, rare, twenty+ year old cards that were never played with. I cannot BELIEVE how much money I wasted on these pieces of paper.
But my kids are fascinated and are helping me sort. My daughter looked up the directions for the game and wants to learn how to play.
I’m sure they’re worth nearly nothing, sort of like beanie babies are worth nothing, but it sure would be interesting to have someone who knows something about these cards come over for dinner one night. Maybe the total collection is worth what I paid for it. ;)
I refuse to believe people are paying hundreds of dollars for a Pokémon card. I honestly do not believe this website. I absolutely don’t believe I’m holding a little piece of paper that could be worth hundreds of dollars, and who knows how many other cards are scattered through those boxes.
People are NUTS!
…I may pick through them and post more pictures I’d what I find now, though. Now I’m curious about what’s in the boxes. I really didn’t look that much.
I saw on our local news that Pokémon cards were becoming a Thing again. Like, an Investment device and whatnot.
Like Beanie Babies. Such an investment.
I was big into Pokémon… in the age of Red and Blue. I loved buying the cards and drawing the characters. I don’t think I ever once played the game. I spent an utter shitload of hard earned DQ paychecks on Pokémon cards in high school in the late 90s.
Got me thinking. So I dug the box out of the attic and started looking at my almost twenty-five year forgotten collection.
I have not one, not two, but SIX boxes of cards. At 800 cards per box. I flipped through them for a minute and found a dozen holographic, rare, twenty+ year old cards that were never played with. I cannot BELIEVE how much money I wasted on these pieces of paper.
But my kids are fascinated and are helping me sort. My daughter looked up the directions for the game and wants to learn how to play.
I’m sure they’re worth nearly nothing, sort of like beanie babies are worth nothing, but it sure would be interesting to have someone who knows something about these cards come over for dinner one night. Maybe the total collection is worth what I paid for it. ;)
I have been researching the stratigraphy and hydrology of Brumandiho, Brazil for little reason other than pure curiosity. The relevant government databases are, of course, in Portuguese. While I know I enough Spanish and Portuguese to get by, the scientific terminology is… something else.
Apparently I’ve been spending so much time translating words I’m not sure I understand that my work’s AI filter is now giving me Portuguese responses to questions. :)
I have somehow figured out how to make Google’s AI EVEN WORSE than it was before.
If I’ve learned anything from law enforcement reality tv, it’s to not brag about doing something illegal on social media. That’s generally the thing that gets you caught. If people would just be smart enough to shut up, they’d get away with it.
And I’m a smart person.
So.
I had a really fun day today! It was also my birthday. :) Nothing else to see here.
I was meeting with a couple friends (one of which is responsible for the recent dump of stories that hopefully will continue) for coffee and the topic of my strange relationship with groceries came up. I’ll admit that me and food have a slightly different association than most people - but ‘prepper’??
So to explain how food works in my house:
Veggies: I have a nice garden. A big one. I grow about 90% of our ‘storage veggies’ we eat in a year. Things like carrots, potatoes, onions, garlic, peppers, broccoli, cauliflower, etc. We tend to run out in the late spring or summer, which to me feels okay because I can still buy local at the farmer’s market. This way, I can control the use of pesticides and herbicides, making my food as organic and natural as possible. The past two years, I’ve only had to spray for aphids, because holy-hell they were getting out of control. I blame the walnut tree. We still have to purchase ‘fresh’ veggies in the winter (lettuce, for example), but I got an indoor garden setup for the holidays so I’m hopeful we can get something going inside beyond the anemic herb garden in the window and cut that down somewhat.
Fruit: I also have fruit growing in my garden. :) We grow and preserve about 75% of the fruit we eat throughout the year. We grow strawberries, raspberries, rhubarb (fruit??), blueberries, currants, gooseberries, apples, etc. We’d grow and preserve more, but sometimes you just want the fresh fruit, and we do live in an era where fresh fruit is available in the winter, and bananas and oranges are things I can’t grow in the snow.
Dairy: We raise chickens, so we get all the eggs we could possibly eat and then some, and we get most of our dairy products from the co-op down the road. They process the milk into butter and basic cheese, so we get our dairy from within a fifty-mile radius of home, which is nice. And since yogurt and mozzarella are so easy to make at home, we tend to do that a lot. Like every other weekend. My son is trying to talk me into some dairy goats, but I’m still too worried about the havoc they would bring to my garden to let them on the property.
Meat: We raise the aforementioned chickens and also meat rabbits. We also have a hobby farmer that lives nearby that raises a steer and a hog for us to butcher each fall. So if you dig into my freezer and pull out a steak or a pound of hamburger, I can usually tell you the name of the steer it came from. Not the pork, though; I don’t think the guy names his hogs. My husband is also an avid hunter and fisher, so we have plenty of wild protein sources as well.
Breads: Processed grains are the one thing we can’t get locally, but we do buy in bulk from as reputable a source as possible. We have enough oats, flour, sugar, and the like to make the Widow of Zarephath happy. I don’t have the time to regularly make bread, but we can and do sometimes. Breadsticks, especially, because I just… can’t… make myself pay almost fifty cents each for frozen (bad-tasting) breadsticks. Not when I can make them for a nickel of flour and a bit of my time. We help out with ricing each fall, so we get a good supply of local wild rice.
So if you come to my house at the end of harvest, you will be greeted with what some people (including my friends, I guess) think is a bizarre sight. I have jars and jars and jars of preserved foods on top of my kitchen cabinets. I have not one, but two stand-alone freezers full of food in the basement. I have a pantry with enough baking and cooking supplies I could make almost any recipe you’d like at a moment’s notice. I have bins of homegrown potatoes (lots of small potatoes this year, sadly. don’t know why. I’m inwardly blaming the aphids.) and onions and braids of garlic and I can make you a wonderful peppermint tea any time of the year. If you get through the two locked doors in the basement, my husband will show you how to reload precision shells for hunting, how to precisely aim to make sure death is as quick and painless as possible, and how to create the best lures and decoys for fishing.
I don’t personally believe in the coming apocalypse - I’m not doing this because I think the world is ending, I’m doing this because this is what humans do and it makes you feel good and you can sit, surrounded by cold and ice, secure and warm and knowing your kids will be well fed with good food you can be confident were raised properly. Also, a lack of grocery bills. That’s nice too.
But there’s nothing nicer than eating a meal of smothered pork with root veggies and knowing where every bit of this meal came from. Or picking pounds of strawberries with your kids, knowing they’re feeling connected to the Earth rather than trapped on it. Or helping your kids filet and cook the fish they caught, making sure they understand the gift the fish is giving us and what it meant for the fish to be healthy and happy up until it’s caught. That the lake is healthy. That the land is healthy. That we compost and return the nutrients to the ground so that the soil is healthy so that our garden grows better food.
To me, this isn’t the thought process of a prepper. It’s the thought process of a human. My ancestors did these things. There are thousands of generations of people that came before me, who also felt the same way and did the same things (although maybe without the freezer space?).
…also, yes. I guess we do have solar panels, a generator, a hand-pump personal well, and a literal bomb shelter (don’t ask - we didn’t build it) under our house. We have a reloading room with plenty of supplies for keeping ourselves alive. We have crafting supplies for making clothes and weaving textiles, including everything needed to turn raw wool into yarn and fabric. We have a year’s worth of food at any given moment and know how to make more on our own. I have a seed cabinet where I store seeds from the previous year, including those of an odd squash variant I managed to cross-breed and you can’t buy anywhere on the planet. My husband is a paramedic with medical training and access to supplies.
So even though I don't consider myself a prepper, in case of the apocalypse, all my friends are coming to my house. Can’t image why.
