#i wou

[mortons-solicitors]

RT @GMPCityCentre: @5cribblesvurt I can’t comment on individual cases but I know if I was Ill, I wouldn’t be going to see anyone. And we will continue to do our best! PC Costello

I can’t comment on individual cases but I know if I was Ill, I wouldn’t be going to see anyone. And we will continue to do our best! PC Costello

— GMP Manchester City Centre (@GMPCityCentre) May 23, 2020

May 24, 2020 at 09:55AM

[tootingmasala]

i would go deaf for glass eyes

[creepyorb]

some strange memories from elementary school I have no explanation for

I've been spending some time thinking about my early childhood, specifically a school I used to go to, and some stuff that, upon recollection, sounds a little weird. I've recently been thinking about my early childhood a lot and what seemed strange, but not bizarre when I was a kid is bordering on the supernatural when I think about it as an adult. The school's still up and running and no one I know who used to go there has any weird stories, so it must just be an issue with me. I'm just going to talk about some of the memories from the few years I had elementary school there.The school itself was a pretty big one, probably two stories since I remember climbing a flight of stairs to one class. It was a combined middle school and elementary school, so I remember the 'big kids' seeming like very old kids to me. I remember the hallways seeming very long, but that was probably because I was quite small. I don't have a detailed memory of my route from class to class, but I remember the classroom well enough, with its stations and boxes of modeling clay and paper, and I remember our large cafeteria and the spaghetti dinners we used to have for school fundraisers.& pretty vividly must have happened when I was maybe five or six. I was in class, had to use the restroom, and asked for the hall pass, which at the time was a smooth, polished piece of wood with either a girl or a boy on it depending on what you were. I loved things with textures that were pleasant to touch, so I remembered rubbing the hall pass with my thumb as I walked to my destination. All of this was fairly normal.Then, as I was walking, the floor beneath me started shaking. It wasn't anything severe, just a series of mild tremors as I walked along the hallway. It reminded me of a funhouse I had gone to in one of the carnivals there, where you had to pass an area that had a built-in shaky floor. Child me wasn't alarmed or frightened by it, because I remember myself just continuing to walk through it without a thought, despite the steady 'shaking' the floor and building was doing.Now, I lived in the midwest, and earthquakes of course were a possibility. However, there wasn't an alarm or bell ringing at all, and the tremors lasted for a good while. The other odd thing about this is that I remember there wasn't any sound of frightened kids coming from the classrooms I was passing. None of the students were screaming or crying or making any noise, and I could even hear the occasional teacher still talking about their subjects as I continued to walk down the hall that, in my memory, seemed to go on forever. I kept walking and walking, and I never really got to the bathroom. At some point, the shaking stopped abruptly and right after that happened, a teacher came walking down the hall and saw me. She seemed alarmed that I was there, despite my hall pass, and demanded I go back to my classroom.&ld 'zone out.' Usually if I was reading or playing, it would feel like I had just picked up a book, no sounds or anything, but then I'd hear my name being called and everyone would be in their seats and the teacher had been calling me for a few minutes. I would go through ten to twenty minutes sometimes feeling like no time had passed at all. Very weird, but didn't happen past kindergarten.& I did, my mother would make me go to school anyway. If I was sick enough, they'd send me to the nurse's office and she'd call for my mom to pick me up, which she would do with no complaint. Looking back on it I realize how irresponsible that was, but as a kid I trusted my mom's judgment and figured she knew if I was 'sick enough' to be kept home.Once in first grade, I had strep throat. I came to school talking like I was making out words around a mouth full of cotton, I remember my mouth felt more full of saliva than usual, and my throat was sore like crazy. My teacher figured out something was wrong when I didn't volunteer to read aloud and when it was my turn to do it, I spoke slowly and garbled. I found myself at the nurse's office quick enough. She took my temperature, stuck a popsicle stick in my mouth, and told me to lie down.Now, I must have fallen asleep, because I remember shutting my eyes as I heard her call my mother. With my eyes shut, I heard her tell my mom to come please pick me up, my temperature was something or other, I couldn't speak well, and my tongue had a white coat. Then, I opened my eyes. I remember there was no interruption in what the nurse was saying, she kept talking to my mom on the phone, but the walls had changed color. Walls that had once been a sort of faded green were now a dingy white, and the quality of light was different. More severe, like hospital lighting. And stranger still, this was a different school nurse than the one who'd been taking my temperature and talking before. The other nurse had dark brown hair done up in a bun, and this one had wavy blonde hair down to shoulder length. I remember her features were different as well, and she seemed older than the other one.There was nothing sinister about this, just strange. I remember laying there, confused for a little while, and finally giving in to the fatigue I was feeling and closing my eyes again.Through the whole thing, the nurse's conversation with my mom kept going, and when I opened my eyes she hung up the phone, the walls again green and the original nurse back in place in the chair. I asked if anyone had come in, and she said no, it was just the two of us the whole time. We only had one school nurse.&st grade story: I remember following someone who worked for the school, I'm pretty sure it was the guidance counselor, down the hall to the supply closet. She opened it up with a key from a normal keychain, nothing mythical looking, just a very big bunch of keys. Little me figures she had every key to the school and was very impressed.Anyway, when she opened it, I recall the inside of the closet looked like an attic: a very wide, empty space, made up of bare plywood boards. No insulation, just boards. I recall her crawling all the way to the end of it, feeling her way along the wall and sort of crouching down as she did so. She didn't get anything from it, she just crawled around it. I remember it being way more space than could have logically fit there, but I was young so it seemed normal. It feels like she was crawling for a long time, but always stayed at the end of the room.I went back to the spot a couple years later to check it out and see what it looked like, and it only opened up to a normal janitor's closet. Cleaning supplies and a little scuffed orange bench, a bottle of Coke. Nothing huge.&ol, but a few blocks down from the school, on the way back to my house, there was a graveyard. I'm going to add that nothing creepy happened at this graveyard. No ghosts, no ghouls, we sometimes had field trips there to take crayon rubbings of the graves but that's it.The one weird thing that kept happening was for a couple of months, people would find white animals in there. I mean domesticated animals, like kittens or rats or ferrets. Not huge amounts of them and not daily, just every now and then the groundskeeper or whoever would find one of these animals in a cage in a random location. My neighbors adopted one of the white bunnies and I used to come over and feed him carrots. Absolutely normal animals, but no one knew where they came from.Child me thought nothing of this really, I read Goosebumps books and they were all creepier than white kittens popping up. Adult me is even more perplexed. All of the animals were alive, so they weren't likely used as a sacrifice or anything. But why would anyone waste money buying up these cages, tanks, and white animals and just stick them in a graveyard?&ound, everything except for the slides made out of boards. It all looked like a giant landlocked treehouse, and around the edge there were these huge truck tires you could crawl in and out of. Tons of fun.At some point under one of the playground apparatuses, there was a little crawlspace you could wiggle into if you were small or flexible enough. It was a space the size of a packing box, I guess, and you could only really fit one child into it. I used to love wiggling into it and reading all of the inscriptions other kids had written on the board 'walls'. It made me feel like I was friends with all of them, or that I knew them a little, just by seeing the names and dates that were written there. Some kids as far back as the late seventies, and early as the nineties. (It was the nineties at that point.) I remember vividly one of the inscriptions was: "1991, we can make this place into a house!" and signed by three different kids. I used to wish I knew them.Anyway, I ran straight to that place at recess one day, and was dismayed to find it occupied. The boards were placed pretty tightly together, but glimpsing through I could catch a peek of brown hair and a red sweater. The only thing very visible were the shoes, a pair of polished black Mary Janes with scuffs at the toes. "Hey," I said. "You like to play here too?""Yeah." The voice was another girl's, pretty cheerful and normal. We had a short conversation about how cool 'the box' was, what our favorite inscriptions were, and how we wanted to bring some colored pens in one day to make a really cool drawing one of these days. Sometime during this conversation, I realized I was alone on the playground, and I couldn't see my classmates or my teacher. I stood up, panicking, and told the girl in the box I had to find my class. I remember she said goodbye and then I ran off.Once I got in my class, the teacher was relieved and upset, asking over and over where I went. I told her repeatedly I was one the playground, the third one with the twisty slide. Apparently, everyone had searched for me all over every playground and hadn't seen me since the start of recess. "I was talking to the girl in the box," I remember saying, but my classmates kept shaking their heads and looking like I was crazy. As far as they knew, there was no one in 'the box.' They'd even had someone slide under there to see if I was there. No one.I still don't understand what happened.Anyway, those are some of the weirdest memories I have from that school. As far as I know, the playground was demolished to make room for a new plastic one and it's got that shredded recycled tire stuff on it now instead of the pebbles we had. Probably makes for a softer landing. I haven't gone back there in a long time since we moved a good deal away and it's a long drive there, but sometimes I catch myself thinking of that school.

[not-olsbear]

gOT QUITE A FEW FILM RECOMMENDATIONS AND NOW I'M EVEN MORE TORN UP

[youcanbeyourlight]

Klaine I definitely my otp.

But Bike Chanderson is too cute not to ship.

[marys-motto]

Paula Red

had my first paula red apple today.  The experience I will remember forever.  It has a softish texture like an Golden Delicious/I want to say Empire apple.  It's just not as sweet as an Empire apple.  And apparently they're basically the first good apples of the season :)

I would have posted a picture but I was too excited to eat it that I  forgot :X

waaahoooooo.