Author, artist, musician, composer MJ_Holmes on AO3
MJ on Stories of Arda, old biddie with a young mind
https://fanlore.org/wiki/Mary_Jean_Holmes (This is me)
Yep, 2002-ish but as i was thinking about it I'm not 100% sure it was fanfiction.net it actually may have been Geocities, I do remember it was Yu Yu Hakusho fanfic
🇺🇸massive recall of food, baking ingredients, and cosmetics due to insanitary conditions, filth, and rat shit contamination🇺🇸
over 150 items being recalled, including some intended for babies. the FDA warns that all products held or distributed by this company may be dangerous.
this recall is so bad that you need to clean and sanitize anything that has even touched the outside of these products.
the recall link may move in the future. this recall has its own special FDA page right now because the FDA issued an advisory immediately after inspection, before a recall could even be issued. the findings of the inspection were just THAT fucking disgusting.
Products were held under insanitary conditions with potential contamination with filth.
June 3, 2025
On May 27, 2025, Pan-African Food Distributors initiated a recall of various products it sells. FDA continues to have concerns for all products held and distributed by Pan-African Food Distributors due to the insanitary conditions observed at the facility during a routine FDA inspection, including a rodent infestation and numerous rodent droppings on multiple product containers.
FDA is advising consumers and retailers not to use, eat, sell, or serve cosmetic and food products distributed by Pan-African Food Distributors of Louisville, Kentucky.
FDA is working with the firm and their direct customers to remove all products of concern from the market.
More information will be provided in this alert as it becomes available.
some emphasis mine.
the distribution center was inspected, the FDA found a massive rodent infestation, and they shut that shit down. literally, they found a ton of rodent shit all over the products. although the distribution center is in kentucky, these products may have been distributed nationwide.
pan-african food distributors is also doing business as (dba) east africa boutique, LLC.
the FDA says more updates will be issued about this. because this one is a big deal.
Products held under insanitary conditions and contaminated with filth could pose a serious health risk, potentially leading to various illnesses, including leptospirosis, hantavirus infection, salmonellosis, yersiniosis, E.coli infection, and rat-bite fever. People should contact their healthcare provider if they suspect they have developed symptoms as a result of eating or using these products.
some emphasis mine.
the risks here are varied and bad. bad bad. bad and potentially deadly. if you have used or eaten or even held these products and experience symptom, GO TO A DOCTOR!
Consumers should check their homes for food and cosmetic products distributed by Pan-African Food Distributors and discard all products. If you do not know if your product was distributed by Pan-African Food Distributors, throw it away. Additionally, consumers should carefully clean and sanitize surfaces that could have come in contact with potentially contaminated products.
clean and sanitize ANYTHING these products have touched!!! if you are not sure if your item is part of this recall, the FDA says the risks here are so bad that you should just throw it away!
recalled items include baby food, baking ingredients, various types of flours, soaps, shampoo, lotion, baby powder, and so much more. this list contains over 150 recalled items. so check under the cut for the list, or visit the link at the top of this post.
formatted in
product name - lot code/batch (when listed) - expiration date (when listed)
recalled food items:
Super Sembe Maize Flour (10 kg) May 2025
Kinazi - Cassava Flour Lot Code: 002952 04 OCT 2026
Cassava FuFu (10 Kg) 2024-2026
Cassava FuFu (20 Kg)
Farina 1 (50 lb.) Lot Code: 506602
Peanut Flour (50 lb.) 01 FEB 2026
Akanozo (12 x1 cases) Lot: F50FA048
Huza – Fermented Sorghum (1 kg) 21 DEC 2025 and 25 APR 2025
Nootri Family 04/04/2025, and 05/04/2025, 6/10/2025
Sleeping Beauty-Perfumed Petroleum Jelly, mixed sizes Jan 2027
Sleeping Baby – Jelly: BATCH DATE: OCT 2024
Paw Paw – Clarifying Cream (300 mL) 24271 04/2027
Femco Sarl – Cream (no expiry or lot information)
Malaika – Cream (200 mg) 24271 04/2027
Mama Bebe – Baby Jelly 24198 05/2027
Epiderm-Cream (15 g) 04/2027
Aboniki Balm AB0324J
Rico-Clair Plus L112301
Movit Hair Spray 001M5504
Movit Hair Food 031AH01
Pure White Cream AABC
Uniparco – Cosmetic Gold Lotion CCAB 13/01/2026
BB Clear Lightening Cream 320 ml 01/12/2026
BB Clear Lotion 300 ml
Natures Secrete Soap 06 06 30 01/12/2026
Movit Baby Powder 01/2026
Clinic Clear Cream Jar 330 gr 12/2024
Clinic Clear Lotion 500 ml
Clinic Clear Oil 125 ml
Clinic Clear Soap 225 g
Diprosom Cream 03/2025
Sexy Body Powder Perfume 04/2025
Movit Hair Lotion 12/2025
Movit Nail Polish Removal 03/2024
Clinic Clear Soap 04/2026
Dettol Soap 02/2025, 07/2025
Movit – Lemon Crème 05/2026
Neoprosone Gel 03/2025
Caratone Oil 11/2024
Caratone Cream C047152
Caratone Brightening Soap 02/2029
Caratone Crème Clarifionte 06/2027
Caratone Lotion 10/2027
Clear Therapy Purete 07/2027
Body Luxe Body Cream 11/2025
Body Luxe Body Cream 02/2026
Dettol Glycerine Soap 09/2026
Dettol Liquid Soap 03/2026
Family Care Petroleum Jelly 12/2028
Sleeping Baby – Baby Powder 08/11/2026
Movit – Hair Food 06/2026
Paw Paw Shower Gel 08/2026
Vaseline Blue Seal 13 09 2026
Caro White-Coconut Oil 05/2029
Caro White-Tube Cream 01/2025
Caro White-Cream 11/2026
Caro White-Body Lotion 02/2027
White Secrete – Lightening Body Cream 09/2027
Amara Lotion 06/2028
White Secrete Lotion 03/2027
White Secrete Body & Face Lotion 03/2027
White Secrete Oil 04/2027
White Secrete Serum 10/2026
Hemani Black Seals Oil 01/2026
Carotone Gift Pack 05/2027
Radiant-Hair Spray 02/2028
Movit Petroleum Jelly 02/2028
Radiant Shampoo 12/2025
Radiant Hair Vitalization (no expiry or lot information)
Salima 09/2025
African Black Soap (no expiry or lot information)
Lebidjanaise – Toilet Soap 08/2026
Perle Clair Cream 14/03/2026
Clairman Soap 05/2028
Coco pulp Soap 13/09/2026
Rinju-Lotion 04/2026
Cantu Oil
Claire Men 03/2025
BioClaire Cream (no expiry or lot information)
Remy Lotion 09/2027
Huile De Beaute 04/2023
Rinju-Body and Hand Cream 07/2027
Razac Hand and Body Lotion 08/2027
only items related to pan-african food distributors inc/east africa boutique LLC are being recalled. if you have these types of items and know for sure that they came from another distributor, they are not part of the recall. but again, this is so fucking dangerous that if you are unsure, throw it out and clean and sanitize everything that touched the inside or outside of these products.
also note: as mentioned at the top, this recall may have its link moved, and will likely at least have an additional link for the recall. what the FDA found was so fucking disgusting that they actually issued a special advisory before the recall was initiated.
this post may be updated in the future, either under the read more or in reblogs, as new information comes out. if you want to keep up with this, bookmark the recall link and/or check the notes every now and then!
Is this the same brand the is P.A.N? The pre-cooked cornmeal in the yellow bag with a lady with a red hairbow on it? I wish the FDA included pictures I just bought some yesterday.
Twenty years ago, I lost my father. In his memory, I want to put out again the eulogy I wrote for his funeral.
A Song for an Unsung Hero
A Eulogy for my father, read at his funeral, June 9, 2005
Among all the many and varied studies I have pursued throughout my life, I have been fascinated most by two things: music, and the stars. I don't remember the first time I recognized having those interests, but over the years, I have come to realize that I inherited much of both of them from my father.
Music came first. Though Mom's love of it was more obvious — singing with the radio or the record player or the TV or just because she felt like it — it was Dad's love of classical and popular music and his playing of the electric organs we owned that fascinated me most. Hearing the beautiful music of what I only later learned were the great composers is a vivid memory of my childhood, like the collection of records we listened to that Mom and Dad had gotten as bonus items from the local grocery store. In high school, when I sang in the choirs and performed in plays, I remember Dad as being hesitant to come the first time I was in a performance with the school orchestra — rather discouraging, I thought at the time, until after the play was over, when he proclaimed with considerable relief that the orchestra didn't stink! Apparently, after suffering through concerts at my eldest sister’s high school, he had feared being subjected to another amateur orchestra with a string section so bad, it could drive even the most tone-deaf person to tears. It was then that I truly began to realize that Dad not only loved music but was a trained musician, and that he genuinely wanted to encourage my interest in music, since after that, he never missed another concert or musical in which I participated. When I was in college and majored in music education, I started teaching myself to play the guitar on a rather cheesy one I'd borrowed from a friend. I suspect that my birthday gift that year — a new guitar of my own — was prompted by Dad wincing at the out-of-tune music that was the best my borrowed instrument could manage. During these last few years, Dad's ongoing efforts to produce piano performances of the works of Scott Joplin using his home computer helped me to realize what could be achieved using MIDI and electronically sampled sound. Dad's work turned on a light bulb for me, for it was the encouragement of his efforts that awakened in me a passion for composing symphonies — a gift I had never quite realized was in me, as most of my previous musical composition had been songs. Even in his latter years, Dad continued to teach by inspiration and example.
My fascination with the stars came later, and started, I'm sure, with the watching of every televised launch of every space capsule that was sent aloft by the US space program. The whole family watched together, when possible, and I sometimes wondered why my parents, Dad in particular, were so fascinated by them. It was only later that I discovered that Dad's work for GM was part of the creation of the inertial guidance systems used by NASA on the Apollo project, a job in which he clearly took great satisfaction, and for which I was very proud of him. Seeing his elation over the first moon landing and his concern over the near tragedy of Apollo XIII, I could feel that there was a part of him riding with those men into space, that he was as much a member of those missions as anyone in the capsules or in ground control. These were the masterpieces of his work in engineering, the symphonies of that art, and watching them come to a successful conclusion was no doubt as satisfying for him as a conductor leading his orchestra to a triumphant finale.
In my mind, that is Dad, and has always been: a mixture of creative art and scientific discipline combined not to apparent contradiction, but to wonderful effect: discipline and spontaneity in remarkable harmony, strength and gentility in equal measure — the heart of a teddy bear under the clothing of a lion. I could not have hoped for a better example for my own life, nor a better father. He gave me the discipline to know my boundaries, but also the imagination to transcend them, if I would, in whatever direction I chose. He guided subtly, but did not push, and never once told me that I was not capable of doing something. He taught me to stand up for myself, and to have faith in my own abilities when others dismissed or belittled them.
I cannot ever remember Dad as a quitter, not even when the odds seemed impossible and the task at hand insurmountable. I know that it was through him that I grew to believe, beyond any doubt, that the only real failure in life is refusing to try. Looking back and recalling all the books on the shelves around my childhood home, I remember quite vividly one called "Build Your Dream House for $5,000 or Less." I had no idea why we had that book until I was older, and discovered that Dad had bought it to learn from when he tore the roof off our tiny two-bedroom tract house to build a second story to help affordably shelter his growing family. Whenever I drive through the old neighborhood and see that house — still the only two-story home among all the other little identical boxes built over fifty years ago — I think of Dad and how he set us all a great example for our lives: If you don't know how but have a need or a dream, you can go out and teach yourself how to achieve it if you will only try. Yes, you will encounter frustrations and limitations, but if you make the effort with the belief that you can teach yourself to succeed, you will often find that you can do more than you had dared to dream. Before I was born, when Dad started his own TV repair business, he had the courage to dream even when others scoffed at him. He had the strength to keep trying despite criticism and the odds, and even when the long hours and heavy work of that business became too much for him to handle, especially with a growing family, he had the courage to move on and start again to provide for us. Knowing this, and all the things he accomplished in the following years and throughout his life, I can say with confidence that I wouldn't trade my Dad for any other in the world, and I am as proud to be able to say that I am his daughter as I am of him.
Over the years, I heard Dad talk on occasion about getting a pilot's license, and though he never did, I feel he has flown higher in spirit than even the astronauts who rode the vessels his engineering skills helped guide into space and brought safely home. There is a poem that I feel must describe both the joy he felt in watching those missions, and feels now that he is freed of the pain and illness and sheer weariness that slowed and finally stopped his steps. Though it would seem now that he has met the final obstacle he could not overcome, I believe that he has not given up or failed, but has found his way through this barrier to a better place where the limitations of the flesh are no longer a hindrance to what the mind and heart can conceive. The poem is "High Flight" by John Gillespie Magee, jr.
Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or even eagle flew —
And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God.
Thank you, Dad, for what you gave the world, and what you gave us, your children. You not only gave us life, but you gave us the freedom to choose our own paths in living it. You gave us the room to make mistakes, and the strength to accept them as a part of being human, along with the courage to move on, hopefully a little wiser for the experience. You gave us not only discipline, but also the imagination to envision our lives and to go out and make them as we would, not only by hard work, but also with satisfaction, pride, and joy. And more than anything, you gave us love. I always knew that if ever we lost our direction, you would be there with a helping hand of support so we could find our way home. I love you, Dad, and I know that you have found the peace and happiness you deserve in your new home with God. Though it hurts to lose you now, I know in my heart that this is not "goodbye," but only "until we meet again."
So, I did a thing. A short thing. Blame it on Dementia and discussions on Discord. And Señora Mendez is one of the 120+ residents of the Encanto who were at least mentioned somewhere in my big novel, OTP. Enjoy. 😊
NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.
If I had a nickel for every time I had a life changing medical thing happened this year, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.
Welcome to the club! Between November of 2018 and now, I’ve had four eye surgeries (and the eye is totally messed up now), a hysterectomy and bilateral salpingo oopherectomy (meaning they removed absolutely everything, including tubes, on both sides), cataract surgery, two rounds of Covid, major injuries to hips and knees, and am now on cpap. At my age, you sort of expect some of these things, but really, I feel like an overachiever. I’m sure I’m forgetting something, too. May you have more fortunate days ahead. It’s been a rough year all around. ❤️
Ah Easter. Time to listen to the hubby's religious music. (I'm not a fan can you tell but he likes it so I'll deal.)
Christmas is easier for me to deal with the rampant capitalism of the hoilday and the disconnect of American Christian nationalism. It can be a light in the darkness kind of hoilday.
Easter is warm and bright already so I just feel empty. Jesus loves us all but the church here doesn't reflect Him at all. Now anything religious feels so hollow to me.
Living as I do in the north, Easter has always been more about spring and the renewal of life than anything else. While I’m a spiritual person, I’m not religious, nor is my husband (I have one friend who still goes to church regularly, but for her, it’s about singing in the choir and getting a space that's calm and quiet after the service is over so she can calm down her ADD). We watch sandal epic movies around this time to laugh at hokey dialogue or point out historical mistakes in costumes, settings, etc. God loves us, and I suppose I look at Easter as a reminder that as ugly as the world so often gets because of the behavior of ugly people, sooner or later, renewal comes. It's about keeping hope to me, and I think that’s the most important part, imho.
Casa Brainrot, the Discord server which proudly sponsors Encantober, is open to new members! We're a community of Encanto fans who are still out here making fanworks, workshopping AUs, and cornplating like it's 2022.
If you'd like to join us, there are a couple of guidelines to be aware of:
While we're a general discussion server, adult and NSFW topics do come up, so it is an age 18+-only space.
There is a brief application and approval process; final admittance to the server is up to the mods' discretion.
If that sounds like a good time, click here to join! We hope to see you soon, and remember:
I'm… kind of baffled at people being angry at the (tenuous, hearsay) possibility of a sequel? I've exclusively been in serialized work fandoms before and the MO is to take what's fun and ignore the rest
I do feel that writing something off as terrible before it exists = making up something to be mad about. But even rolling with the assumptions that we'll get a sequel, and that it will be terrible, that would still leave us with more good bits to gif/screenshot/write meta rambles about than having no sequel
A sequel also means new and returning fans, more merch(good for people hoping for some for their blorbos), hopefully some new outfits, gorgeous animation, and new characters and storylines to play around with. Even for sequels that are hated, they introduce enough new things that fans will write and draw how they would have done them, something that can’t be done if that doesn’t exist in the first place.
⬆️ This. This is the way to be. ⬆️
I mean, just take the Bruno prequel book, as an example. Even if it didn't wow me (I'm being very generous here), I still enjoyed the hell out of reading it. I've read it three times! There are good parts I genuinely loved and parts that were so bad they were unintentionally hilarious. (Conquistadors...)
And my first read-through I did on Tumblr? Some of the most fun I've had on here in years! I didn't have the time or energy for fanart, but I laughed myself sick making memes for it.
I’m certainly not angry or upset about a possible sequel, but I’ve also had a lot of disappointing experiences with them in other genres, so I’m not inclined to be excited about it. Being as old as I am, I’ve watched several creative industries change from wanting to provide quality material so as not to lose their fans and followers to just wanting to ring the cash register as many times as possible to max out their profits, quality be damned. It’s sad, and it tends to make one skeptical. I would love to see a genuinely good sequel that doesn’t try to cater to whichever demographic they think will return the most profit. Are we likely to get that? Ehhhh. Doubtful. But I’m very much a wait and see sort, and what will be will be. This is just me.
I will never put down those who ARE excited, since sometimes, that excitement gets through to the people making those sequels and they actually listen. So by all means, go for it!
This certainly tl:dnr, but it’s something I need to get off my chest. Perhaps someone in the arts, especially music, might find it vaguely interesting.
Today, my therapist asked if there was one thing I wanted to do or experience more than any other before I die. Now, I’m not in imminent danger of that, but I’m 71, so it’s not like it’s something that hasn’t come up before. And when I thought about it today and suddenly realized what it was, I broke down crying because it’s never, ever going to happen.
Let me take a moment to explain a few things about myself, my past, my life. I was an unwanted child. I was the fifth of six kids, born because my mother was at war with my father. Mom was an abusive alcoholic narcissist, very likely suffering from BPD, as if the first three weren’t enough. She was a lot like my father's mother, and both had abused him. Dad was actually as great a father as one could be with a controlling drama queen like my mom for a wife (mind you, I say "mom" because it’s shorter to type than "heartless self-centered bitch”). Dad very much wanted to be a proper father to us, but mom interfered as much as she could, which was a lot. To her, children were there to be servants to her needs and whims. I won’t go into the ugly details. But from the moment I came into this world, I was not a member of my family. I was their scapegoat, for pretty much everyone but one sister (who wasn’t allowed to be a sister to any of us) and Dad.
In spite of all the obstacles mom threw in front of me to forever stay at home and be her scullery maid and scapegoat, I was born too smart to believe that that was all there should be in life (for this, I have my Dad and role-models I found in books to thank). She told me before I graduated from high school that I would never go to college, but I got myself a part time job in retail (with her disapproval, though not Dad's), and in a couple of years, I’d earned enough and continued to earn enough to pay for my tuition at the closest state university. I majored in music, because it had always been doing what comes naturally, but I made one mistake: I thought the only possible way to make the degree become a career was to go into music education. And I learned during my student teaching that I was not cut out to teach music to anyone who didn’t already know how to read music. My only chance would be to go for a PhD to teach at a college level, since tenure track positions demanded it. No way I could ever afford graduate school. So I put it all aside after I was finished as an undergrad.
Against all expectations, I got married a year or so later to the most wonderful and understanding man I have ever known. No, we were never wealthy, and the neurological disorders that came to light for me shortly after we were married made it hard for me to hold down jobs outside the home. Being the understanding guy he is, my husband stood behind me and was supportive through all my following attempts to make a career of some sort to help support us. (And don’t get any ideas that because we were both Boomers, we had an easy life with well paying jobs. For those on our end of the Boom, those jobs were few and far between because our elder siblings, cousins, etc. were in them already and weren’t going to be giving them up for us. We were stuck with the low paying crap they didn’t want, the dead end jobs with bad pay and no future.) For decades we struggled to make ends meet, and we finally were able to see light at the end of the tunnel when we hit the low point and were forced to declare bankruptcy.
Well, as things finally began to look like they were improving because the debts were off our backs and hubby found a way to get into a slightly better job track at work, he got me a computer with a decent sound card and a program on it called Sibelius, a notation program for composers. And I went crazy. Over the next few years, I composed symphonies, music for stringed quartets, more complex songs than those I’d written to sing at SF convention filksings. And I finally realized something:
I should never have gone into music education. My real passion in music was composition.
In retrospect, I believe one of my music theory professors (the good one) saw this in me, through things he encouraged me to do and write as assignments for his class. But I was focused on education, and, well, composition doesn’t exactly pay the bills. If one thinks breaking into something like pop music or rock is hard, try breaking into composing for symphony orchestras. You can’t exactly start in a garage or a bar with a pick up band. You have to know someone who knows someone who has an in with someone else who has the ear of the director and the board of the orchestra, and if you’re an unknown, the answer is certainly going to be no. A hundred years or more ago, there might have been a chance, but not now.
And this, I realized, is the one thing I would dearly love to experience: the chance to have my music played by an actual orchestra capable of handling it ('cause let's face it, I didn’t write stuff for a kid's orchestra or a small community one. Most of my symphonies require more than just a standard orchestra, and often a choir). Oh, I could get an idea of what it would sound like through that computer and the sound card and the various sampled instrument files I was able to find that worked with it all. But I know it’s not anywhere near what it could sound like, played by human musicians in a hall with proper acoustics.
It's the one thing I would dearly love to experience before I die. To hear even one of the many movements I've written played live. A lot of what I composed in those years was my way of paying homage to the works of J.R.R. Tolkien, which provided the strongest role models back in my early years. So someone interested might actually listen. Back when I had my own website, I posted kinda crappy MP3s of them so others might hear, and the few people who found them did like them.
But this isn’t about accolades. It’s not about applause or being able to say to an audience, "I wrote this." I’ve had that experience before, with the filksongs and fiction and art I’ve made. This is about the experience of hearing something you put your heart and soul into come to life. It's the one thing I long to experience, just once.
And it’s never going to happen.
Pardon me while I find some glue for my shattered heart.
