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#chandler walnut
harddelusionninja · 1 year
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walnutart · 2 years
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wuh oh shes spamming again. someone get the gun walnuts feeling a bit manic tonight
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rosejigglypuff76 · 6 months
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🔎 Walnut Goro (aka; Walnut Cookie) 🔎
Rarity: Epic ✨ Class: Support 📖 Position: Rear 💙
Birthday: August 27 🎀 Age: 13 🎂 Gender: Female Sexuality: Aroace (Aromantic & Acesexual) 🖤🤍💜 Occupation: Ultimate Junior Detective of M.E.H, and an 8th Grade Student Family: Almond Goro (Father), Cashew Lilith (Mother, Lost Contact), Prune Juice Chandler (Adoptive Older Brother) Relationships: None
🍪 Cookie Character Info 🍪
Walnut Goro is a clever little cookie who's always there to help other cookies with crime solving, and helping out her father with all the love and passion to keep them safe.
Classified as the Ultimate Junior Detective since she's one of the few of her kind to be equally skilled in solving cases like the detectives around her father's age.
Her first case happened when she was 10-years old, which involved several detectives trying to solve a case that was deemed unsolvable during the span of five months, which were about countless kids from her school going missing.
Walnut was able to piece everything together, figuring out from every clue that was given to her father and other detectives from M.E.H.
She was the one to solve the case, revealing that the culprit as her own mother, Cashew Lilith. It was hard for Walnut herself, and it hit Almond very hard after finding out the truth of the case.
Despite that first case, Walnut chose to continue towards the life of solving countless crime cases, some with her father's help and others all on her own. Becoming one of the few applicable junior detectives in M.E.H Detective Agency, determined to bring justice throughout.
Almond shows all the love and support for Walnut, and the same can be said with her doing the same to him, both giving an equal amount of it when they later adopted Prune Juice Chandler.
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blorbfoosh · 29 days
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Chapter 5 -
“Imbeciles.” He growled, hitting her across the cheek, and sending her to the floor. She gasped, putting a hand to her stinging cheek. The man standing before her leered, before walking away. “Let her example be a sign of what will happen to YOU if you were one inch short of perfection. Dismissed.” He declared, snapping his fingers. She scrambled to her feet, to walk with the other workers, when a rough, calloused hand grabbed her wrist, dragging her close. “As for you... I’m not done with you yet.” She kicked and screamed but to no avail. He was wearing her down, weighing her down, and the last thing she saw before blacking out was a silver-laced grin. Aden gasped awake, scratching at her arms and torso, where ghosts of hands handled her roughly. ..what was that? She looked at her clock. 2:46 A.M. She balled her hands into fists, forcing herself to stop scratching. Where was Fr- Oh, there he was. Her beloved strawberry cat plushie, Fraysier. She held the little deity in her arms, careful not to squeeze him too hard. He was always so comforting. She hoped to free him one day. Getting up out of bed, she opened the glass doors leading to her balcony and stepped out into the chilly January night. Resting on the metal frame of the fence, she stared at the city below her. ..what was the reason for her existence? Why was she brought here? How long will this go on? She felt like nothing changed in the eight years she’s lived in Tivers- In Chandler City. Sure, people came and went, trends grew in and out of style, and her kids grew ever older. But.. She never really changed. Never truly improved from the woman she was back on the isles. That fact bit at her insides, making her shiver. She can’t sleep now, can she? Oh, well. Best be productive, right? She went in, closed the doors to the balcony, and made her way to her office. No sleep for her tonight, it seemed. Again.
Quentin took a deep huff of his cigar, putting his feet up on his gilded walnut table. His robotic prosthetic ran absentmindedly through his curly, chocolate hair, taking care to avoid the moth clip adorning it. He was bored. Didn’t fuckin’ ask to babysit his uncle’s strip club. Hellfire. Sister companies with the restobar/nightclub down the road, the Ashen Sunset. Quentin didn’t give a shit, though. He groaned, muttering about how he could be doing much more important matters if that traitor didn't steal the mouseling from under his nose. He swore he’ll find that bitch, and tear them apart. Taking his feet off of the table, he groaned, pacing around. What to do, what to-.. The moth clip suddenly glowed, spraying a little whiff of a sickly sweet scent-.. Dragonfruit? It wafted around the air, and Quentin caught it quickly. Standing up straight, he’d gently tap his moth clip. In front of him, a neon purplish light shined, weaving around the air, creating an intricate design of what seemed to be wings. The wings slowly unfurled, making a portal. Quentin grinned, hastily scribbling a note to his uncle about his disappearance. After all, he would understand. When the great moth calls, you must answer, right? He jumped through the portal, feeling the familiar sensation of wind-.. And that slight burning, like the winter winds whipping at your face. Acid. That’s how they travel around and to him. Where raindrow is, that’s where they can go with the aid of the great moth. Big T. Torah Bellerose, god of corruption, devil of greed- Past demi-god of Karma and Fortune. His boss. Landing softly on the gravel, he stared up at the large, imposing tower that stood before him. Most knew it as the casino, but to those who walk with Bellerose… They know what lies inside. Glancing up at the stone archway protruding out of the glass-covered tower, he looked at the neon purple sign above the archway which read ‘Demi’s Luck.’ Pretty damn ironic, considering who runs it. He appreciated the smooth transition from stone to glass. Pretty fuckin’ clever, the design. Walking into the establishment, he greeted the door people and took a breath, basking in the purple light. He could smell smoke of different kinds, the faint scent of certain liquids, and that sweet scent. It was strongest-... There. He maneuvered through the crowds, passing the card-game tables, the games built to rid ya of G, the cafe and bar, walking through the ballroom and up the grand staircase, leading to his boss’s office. Knocking three times on the door, Quentin fiddled awkwardly with his hair. He didn’t usually take this long to reply…
“Come in.” A gruff voice with a slightly robotic quality answered, and Quentin relaxed, pushing the door open. The office was a bright contrast to the casino. Instead of being bathed in purple light, it’s a gentle yellow instead. The floors were of grey marble tile, and overall it looked more modern and futuristic of a sort. Bookshelves lined the walls, full of ancient history and notes of something. A tall, imposing shadow loomed over a desk, dual-colored wings folded neatly on his back, large, fluffy antennae twitching agitatedly. “Good. You’re here.” The figure turned, revealing a uniquely fashionable fellow. Chocolate skin, lush, wavy black hair cascading over his shoulders- And the clothes? A beautiful white button-up with a yellow, purple, and black splattered boa, his pants black palazzos, fading to white at the feet- And white, high-heeled ankle boots. Besides the wings, other unique features include a gas-like mask, except that the canisters are filled with a bright, colorful acid, swirling around. A purple, pupilless eye stared down coldly at him, a bright sheen seeming to emanate from it, dragging Quentin in further. To o b e y. Blinking out of the trance, he saw Torah step aside, and gesture to a holographic screen. Taking this sign to step forward, he took a closer look at what was happening. He saw a humanoid drone, with peachy, yellowish skin and wavy black hair, a bang swooped to the side, hiding an eye. He had white oval glasses and a l o n g snoot. An Addi. Spamton variant, actually. That white streak told him all he needed to know. Besides the faded, dual-colored suit and white, wide-legged pants. But that shell seemed a bit too soft-.. Like a puppet. 
He seemed to be getting ticked off by a customer in front of him, yapping on about something. Torah slammed a hand on the table, a soft growl escaping him. Seems like he didn’t like the Addi on the screen. “Quentin. I have a job for you. You see this puppet, yes?” “Yes, sir. Do you want me to-” The moth waved his hand dismissively, shaking his head.
“No, I don’t want you to exterminate him. I want you to go cause him pain in any and every way. Do whatever. Just cause him pain. Slow and sweet. Make him regret crossing me. The Great Moth.” Upon saying this, he placed his other hand on the table, leaning close to the hologram. Anger sparked in his eyes, and he gripped a fist, making Quentin step back subconsciously. He did not want to anger Bellerose. Oh, the stories told about who has angered the moth.. Quentin could go on about the blood-chilling tales for ages. But he had a job to do. Nodding at Bellerose, he’d take the file on the table and take his leave, exiting the casino. Finally, a job. Aleena curled around a ragged blanket, shifting in her makeshift bed in the fire exit of a penthouse. She spent the whole night maneuvering up, up, up the building, checking for places to sleep. Her magic wasn’t that strong, being a mere halfling- But 8 years of being alone honed her skill well. It just exhausted her. ..At least the skel she bumped into was kind enough to hand her some food. They were about roughly five feet, with bright amethyst eyelights, and a golden circlet. A plain, loose, dark purple blouse clothed his figure and black bellbottoms for his legs. Black flat ankle boots tapped nervously on the asphalt as they shared a quick chat. He wasn’t much, but he was nice. Aleena appreciated people like those. The world needed more kind souls. Groaning, she’d adjust her body again, before wiggling around. ..The fuck was prodding her- Rolling here and there, she’d maneuver her body around in the small space, trying to make her sleeping spot more comfortable. She’d pull out a rusty gun prototype out of the rags and shudder, tossing it at the trapdoor. It made a faint ‘clunk’ and Aleena winced, hiding under the mossy-colored blanket. She remembered hearing voices outside earlier.
The door swung open slightly, just a crack, letting warm orange-ish light stream through. Blinking as her eyes adjusted, she squinted, observing her surroundings. It was a nice room, with a medium-sized bed, peach covers making it look warm and inviting. A white sideboard drawer stood beside it, hosting a lamp and a few folders. But what she saw on the bed was more intriguing than the background. She saw a woman in her mid-late 20’s, cradling someone, singing softly to them. Her voice was quiet yet strong, reaching even to her ears. It was in a language she didn’t understand, yet it was familiar. Then, another voice joined along in the singing, and the two dueted in harmony. Utter music to Aleena. They stayed like that for a while, before the woman stood up, and left, bidding the other farewell. This was when they turned around, and caught eyes with Aleena, which made her swiftly close the door and turn around, burrowing under the thin blanket once more. The metal door rattled, and Aleena stayed stock still. Warm light bathed the cool fire exit, and a groggy voice mumbled. So.. Close. Shit. It caught on the blanket, and it tugged, slowly revealing a shell-shocked Aleena. Aleena, slowly turning to find the culprit and found no other, but the girl she followed(but lost), a few days ago, clad in a baggy hoodie and fuzzy slippers, her bi-colored hair running aloof and all over the place. She merely blinked at Aleena, before smiling warmly. Blue and green orbs sparked with interest, seeming to bore into Aleena and try and tug the past out and away. That feeling was odd. Like she was being scanned. ..This interested her. What exactly was this kid about? What could she be hiding? It was just itching at her, bugging her to go and get the information to carefully dissect it all. “...You’re pretty badass, miss.” Those were the first words that made her genuinely laugh in a long time. Her laughing made the other girl laugh as well, and soon, we had two gals snorting about nothing like sisters. The shorter, still chuckling, calmed down fairly easily and once again made eye contact with the hybrid skel. “My name’s Psyche. Psyche Olonor Vuidenne. And you?” No harm in trying. As long as she can crash rent-free, yeah? “The name’s Aleena. No last name.” Psyche nodded, her curls bouncing with her excited movements. “Well, Aleena, welcome to the fam. Not officially, of course. I’ll sneak you food and everything and you can live in secret cause I’m not sure if Iolus will allow it- And I can bring you better stuffing if you DO plan to stay in this neat little cache over here- Ooh, and then..”
Psyche tugged Aleena out of her hiding spot, plopping the latter on the lush, carpeted floor, as she rambled on and on. The walls were plastered with stickers, papers, and knicknacks, the shelves overflowing with stuff. It was beautifully messy and it reminded the elder of times gone past. Laying down on the floor, Aleena sighed, closing her eyes, letting the lull of the preteen’s ranting sweep her away into much-needed rest. Meanwhile, in a dark and wet basement-.. There was a poor guy strapped to a chair. He was unconsious, with a trail of blood rolling down the side of his head. Slowly shaking himself awake, he looked around, blearily trying to focus on his surroundings. Upon figuring out he couldn’t move, he panicked, moving more and causing a whole lot of ruckus, yelling for help.
“Tsk. Pathetic.”
A soft and silky voice echoed through the basement, the source close behind him. Straining to see who it was, he felt a small prickle on the back of his neck. He stiffened, and watched, as a slim figure circled his chair and come into sight. What he saw was surprising. A stunning woman, clad in a black bodysuit, approached him with ice blue eyes.
“Don’t try and struggle. He’ll be here soon, and I want you fresh and ripe for the picking. Obey me, and maybe I can guarantee your safe release.”
She leaned close to him, purring the last word, letting her wavy, red locks tumble over her shoulders. The chained man stiffened, glancing around anxiously.
“..y-you won’t hurt me.. Right?”
She grinned, shrugging, grabbing a blade that has a foxglove imprinted on it.
“No promises.”
Feet lightly tapped on the wet cement, as a figure ran, hopping across rooftops, eluding cameras and watchful eyes of the Starflame. He couldn’t afford it, getting caught now, getting caught again. He was lucky enough last time that the little stick figure- Nia, was it-? That it helped him. Now, no one would.
Cause he was late for an appointment.
Skidding across a sloped roof of a building, Knife swore softly as an edge caught on his jacket.
“Shit, I just bought that. Was quality too..”
He carefully removed the jacket from the protruding edge, and continued running, his target-shaped SOUL shining dully in the rainy night. He kept on his way, turning right and left, zigzagging all over the place.
He passed a confectionery with a pancake lollipop sign on it, a mall, the prestigious Tivers Academy, and an apartment building. He swore he saw someone standing at the penthouse balcony, but he was too busy to really care. Hopping down on the gravel, he turned to an alleyway, slowing down. Suddenly, his phone buzzed. Knife groaned, checking the caller ID. On the screen shone a lazy doodle of a grumpy black octopus, with the name set as ‘Boss Octopussy.’ Knife snorted at this, picking up.
“Heya, Boss. Whaddya need from me?”
Shade growled into the mic, slamming his hand on the table.
“Get your ass back here now. Client did a rain check- We lost them to some company called Foxglove.”
Knife blinked at this. It was rare that there was a new company to rival theirs, and one to attract Shade’s attention. Surely they must have good stuff.
“Alright, whateva you say, Boss.”
“But since you’re out, I need you to keep on looking around. Not for places, but for anything new. I’ve been picking up reports that there’s things changing around here. Look for said things and report back to me immediately once you’ve got them. There might be some ethereal bull we can take hold of.”
Knife rolled his barely-visible eyelights, sighing. He didn’t wanna be here now, that he had no one to play with. He just wanted to be at home, arguing with Ash over useless shit, or talking with Axe. Maybe pound nice and hard into a slick-
“Killian. Are you there?”
Knife snarled at the use of his real name.
“Never left, you old man.”
“...Whatever. Are you going, or not?”
“Fiiiine… But you better be paying me something,” he purred into the phone with a smirk. Shade groaned, rubbing his nose bridge and nodded.
“Fine. But you better not be gambling it all away again.”
“Deal.”
And with that, Knife turned, setting off into the night once more. Maybe he’d go and check out the penthouse.
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walnutwarehouse01 · 27 days
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Light Chandler Walnuts
Walnut Health Benefits Research Summary
This page summarizes the research I have discovered about the health benefits of walnuts. For a free download of the infographic below and full pdfs of the academic studies I have read so far visit https://walnutwarehouse.com/store/Walnut-Health-Benefits-Research-p615619174. Light Chandler Walnuts
A Walnut Health Summary
Cancer Reduction
Numerous mice studies have shown that mice fed diets high in walnuts showed reduced incidence and severity of multiple types of cancer, including mammary, prostate, and colorectal. While the exact mechanisms of this are not fully understood, researchers typically point to specific phytochemicals that have been discovered in walnuts that have known antioxidant properties.
Cognitive Function
Human clinical trials suggest that walnut consumption improves cognitive function, particularly among the elderly, where walnuts can reduce the likelihood and slow the onset of dementia. Mice studies show the same result. The current understanding is that walnut consumption improves antioxidant defense and decreases lipid peroxidation and protein oxidation, thereby reducing the oxidative stress believed to contribute to decline in cognitive function .
Heart Disease Prevention
Walnut consumption has been linked to a decrease in the incidence of cardiovascular disease. Walnuts have been shown to decrease low density lipoprotein cholesterol (“BAD” cholesterol) by approximately 9% to 16% and blood pressure (diastolic blood pressure) by approximately 2-3 mm Hg. Both of these are key elements in preventing cardiovascular disease.
Gut Health
A 2018 study found that “Daily intake of 43 g [1.5oz] of walnuts over eight weeks significantly affects the gut microbiome by enhancing probiotic- and butyric acid-producing species in healthy individuals.” Another 2018 study found “fecal secondary bile acids, deoxycholic acid and lithocholic acid, were 25% and 45% lower, respectively, after the walnut treatment compared with the control treatment.”
Click Here For More Info:- https://walnutwarehouse.com/
Social media  Profile Links   
https://www.facebook.com/inshellwalnuts/
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detectivechandler · 2 months
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@gentlemanstarkey
There's a faint glow, a single lamp at war with the darkness, it's soft light spilling over walnut covered wood in a way that leaves the entire room feeling as if its been bathed in a strange warmth. It hasn't, of course. A storm is brewing outside - the kind that pelts the earth with droplets that feel like bullets, cold and wet daggers that soak through clothing and bury their way into a person's bones, etching an endless chill into muscle and meat, a carved pattern as intricate as the messages left by Jack Frost on a cold winter's morning. This particular storms is rife with thunder, that low grumbling of a bully who hadn't yet finished its torture upon the victim's escape....and the sight of the detective sitting behind his desk - fresh (dry) shirt and hair now only slightly damp - sets its fists against the walls in an angry tantrum. Its wind howls with the frustration of being ignored, it's rough baritone rumbling through the city's streets.... it watches the people who run for shelter, lets its lightning flash with glee at the sight of children crawling under covers with their hands upon their ears... but the insufferable man at his desk barely reacts, barely moves... and eventually, like all bullies, the storm wears itself out.
He hears it, of course. He'd have to be mad not to. But if there's one thing D.I Chandler has learned over the course of his life, it's that some things overpower others. Some thoughts, some fears, some pain... all consuming and never ending as they are... will willingly give ground to the things that request it. The storm is a background noise, acknowledged with half his attention, like a street musician playing an overly loud tune as he walks by, too busy to do anything other than register its there .. like a faint scratching along the edges of his mind. He barely notices as it takes its bow, is near completely unaware when its no longer onstage.. blue eyes never leaving the amber liquid in the glass before him.
" perhaps i don't say it enough, but... i'd like you to know that i'm always here, if you ever wanted to talk. "
The words surprise him, spur him into action. Fingers move to straighten the bottle, to rearrange a pen that has somehow found itself askew on his desk, tiny things meant to put order in a world that is nothing but chaos ... and only when they're finished does he chance a glance upwards at the man standing in front of him. Charlatan, Joe had called him. A spiteful, angry word that had clawed its way from the back of his throat in the midst of a battle of opinion, a desperate attempt to avoid the confession that had pushed against a clenched jaw and been torn to shreds by gnashing teeth. Now, as James looks at him expectantly, brown windswept tendrils still falling across his face, the detective thinks about how easy it would be to dismiss him, to wave his presence away (thanks but no thanks) with a simple gesture... but sometimes Joseph Chandler surprises even himself.
He fishes around for another glass, sets it pointedly down in front of the nearest chair and watches the drink he pours with detached interest. When their gazes finally meet once more, Joe wonders what the older man sees.. .wonders what he thinks about this half - feral thing that has taken its place upon the detective inspector's chair. It snaps at the edges of his mind, a tangled mess of teeth and claws, ignoring the brandy-like anesthesia that sits heavy in the midst of his stomach, doing nothing to control those slavering jaws.
Perfect nails, perfect clothes, perfect order .... he sometimes wonders if someone can die from the pursuit of too much perfect, wonders if people can see the way his entirely too straight tie threatens to choke him, the way he fears letting a button on his vest go undone lest the monster that threatens at the door burst through the shadows. Joe's voice, when he finally speaks, is a tired thing. A croak of a man who has used his last resources and is flailing blindly, looking for a piece of hope in a vast and empty ocean. He thinks of the storm, as quiet now as the latest killer who has managed to escape justice. He thinks of the way the rain had washed away the blood from the street almost as quickly as it appeared. He thinks of the way it feels as if failure has suddenly been branded across his forehead. A curse or something ... that's a demonologist's expertise isn't it?
"Do you ever feel like you might be going completely mad?"
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oldmke · 7 months
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This photo was taken in 1897, the year 18 year old Richard Laacke went into business for himself as a steeplejack, sign hanger and awning manufacturer. He is shown standing in the center of the John Peterson family. Peterson helped hang signs and awnings. His wife sewed the canvas goods in a shop located at 292 Florida St. (later 132 W. Florida). Laacke was known for his daring as he shinnied up such heights as the 60 foot pole atop the Wells Building, to repair it. He also had business acumen - his firm became the largest manufacturer of canvas goods in the state. The making of tents led to the company's growth as a camping outfitter. For many years, R. Laacke Co. was located at 1025 W. Walnut St. Laacke was active in the company until his death at 82 in 1961. In 1948 R. Laacke Co. merged with Joy Brothers Co., another family firm with a long history in Milwaukee (it began in 1844 as a ship chandler and sailmaker for commercial sailing vessels on the Great Lakes). In 1961 the combined firm moved to its present site at 1433 N. Water St. Photo and information courtesy of H.C. Woehr, president, Laacke and Joys Co., and the Milwaukee Public Library local history collection.
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don-lichterman · 1 year
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True California Organic Chandler Walnuts (1 LB) Raw, Shelled Halves and Pieces - Healthy Snacks, Vegan & Gluten Free - Natural Whole Foods & Pantry Staples
True California Organic Chandler Walnuts (1 LB) Raw, Shelled Halves and Pieces – Healthy Snacks, Vegan & Gluten Free – Natural Whole Foods & Pantry Staples
Price: (as of – Details) Organic California Chandler Walnuts Product Dimensions ‏ : ‎ 7 x 4 x 11.5 inches; 1 Pounds Manufacturer ‏ : ‎ True California ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0853FR32L Country of Origin ‏ : ‎ USA SMALL-BATCHED – Our organic Chandler walnuts come from independent, family-owned orchards that use sustainable farming techniques focusing on quality over quantity. These Chandlers are extra light,…
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onecallweb · 3 years
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harddelusionninja · 2 years
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buildersflooring · 4 years
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More finishes have arrived!! Check out these 4 stains on Walnut. For more information visit our website (link in bio) or better yet come visit us at our showroom! #newproduct #cabinetry #stains #walnut #shiloh #eclipse #wwwoodproducts #frameless #framed #inset #showroom #chandler #arizona #buildersflooringanddesign (at Builders Flooring & Design) https://www.instagram.com/p/CDMaIy_JHLM/?igshid=afuj3svi8y7u
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sabrinawhill · 3 years
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UC Wolfskill Not Changing Walnut Improvement Program Focus
UC Wolfskill Not Changing Walnut Improvement Program Focus
Walnut breeders are bullish about their most recent variety release but it isn’t changing their research focus.  UC Davis’s Walnut Improvement Program released UC Wolfskill earlier this year. The variety matures almost two weeks earlier than Chandler yet holds similar qualities. We are very optimistic about this one. We’ve had a lot of good feedback from growers in grower trials and it’s looking…
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regolithheart · 4 years
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Love In The Time of Coronavirus: Chapter Two
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Summary: One pandemic, one lake house, and two people who loathe one another. Will they be able to survive the outbreak...and each other?
MASTER LIST
Read on AO3.
---------------
CHAPTER TWO:
FUCK! Fuck, fuck, fuck. 
Nesta was being punished—for all the horrible things she had done in another life. Probably for all of the horrible things she had done in this life. Would things have been different if she had volunteered more? Gave money to charities? Stopped calling people idiots?
Looking at the man standing outside of her car, grinning at her, confirmed that no, nothing would have prevented the universe from deciding to ruin her life.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Nesta grumbled and hung up the phone before Elain could respond. 
She narrowed her eyes at the figure watching her, trying to assess her options. If only she’d arrived five minutes earlier, she could have gotten the worse news in recent memory and turned her car around. She would have gladly driven all night, that six and a half hour drive in reverse, if it meant she could avoid the predicament she was now in.
But there was no point in wishful thinking. That wasn’t how life worked for Nesta. So she took another deep breath and stepped out of her car. 
“Nesta Archeron.” The voice was deep and much closer than she had expected. How he got to her car so quickly, she didn’t know. 
When he reached over to help her, she slammed the door shut. It was much more forceful than she had expected it to be, but being able to take out some of her irritation in that way gave her a little relief. 
The man’s eyes were still holding her face which made her want to ball up her fists, but Nesta noticed his grin falter a fraction before he twitched his thumb towards himself.
“Cassian,” he offered.
“I know.” She turned on her heels, but caught the reassuring nod he gave himself—the slightest movement of his chin—out the corner of her eye.
She popped her trunk open. 
He followed her. Of course he did.
“Need a hand?”
Nesta grabbed her suitcase and heaved it out in one fluid motion, then grabbed her work bag and slung it on her shoulder. 
“No.”
There was that insufferable grin again. 
“Looks like you do,” Cassian said and grabbed the bag full of books before Nesta could protest and closed the trunk with a firm hand. 
Nesta ground her teeth, but he was already walking towards the house.
“You coming, sweetheart?”
Nesta’s bag bounced and kicked up the gravel as she wheeled it behind her, but she refused to walk any quicker. 
Cassian had already turned the corner and she let herself pause for a moment to take in the scenery. Past the manicured lawn and white Adirondack chairs were stone steps cut into the gentle slope that wound down to a wooden dock nestled in the water. 
Tall oaks framed her view and Nesta saw a pair of swallows skim the rippling surface. She watched as they danced around each other, dipping, gliding, pulling apart and then diving close. 
She grimaced at the thought that one single cocky male with a man-bun no less, was the only difference between her idea of paradise and her idea of hell on earth.
Turning around to head inside, she saw Cassian standing there watching her and she didn’t know what agitated her more. The fact that one of his eyebrows was raised, amusement on his face, or that he was holding the door open, waiting for her. 
Nesta marched through the French doors, ignoring him completely. 
---------------
The house in one word was…beautiful. It was so beautiful that as she looked around, Nesta was only mildly irritated at Rhys. She had hoped that she would able to turn her scrupulous eye on it and tally up all the tell-tale signs of architecture-by-numbers and she was ready to use every ounce of that as ammo against him. 
She had almost stopped in the middle of the doorway when she saw the large white cedar dining table with the 180 degree view of the lake, not the live-edge walnut table with gaudy chandler she had expected to see. And her body hummed with pleasant surprise to see that the rest of the house was decorated in the same modest way with soft muted colors as to not compete with the surrounding landscape that could be appreciated through the large expanses of glass. 
Cassian cleared his throat behind her. “Would you like a tour?”
Nesta tried her best at a non-committal shrug and was glad that he didn’t comment. 
He set down Nesta’s book bag onto the counter of the breakfast bar and gestured wide. “Kitchen and dining room,” and nodded his head past Nesta’s shoulder. “Living room.”
Nesta eyed the double-height room and appreciated the openness of the living spaces. She followed Cassian down the corridor as he pointed out the butler’s pantry and half-bath. Next to it was the office where the two side walls were lined with bookshelves, flanking the large window that overlooked the lawn.
“You can work in here…if you want.” Cassian said, motioning to Nesta’s work bag which she still had slung on her shoulder.
She hummed and shrugged again, hitching her bag higher on her shoulder.
Across the office was the media room which housed a projection screen and what looked to be a custom made sofa big and deep enough for ten Cassians to lounge comfortably. Nesta eyed the array of pillows in varying shades of purple as she ran a hand along the arm of the sofa. Mohair. 
Next to the media room, as Elain had promised was a home gym. There were some weight machines as well as a treadmill and two Pelotons, which made Nesta roll her eyes. Free weights and yoga mats sat in one corner of the room and Nesta’s jaw nearly dropped to see an actual sauna across from the en suite bath. 
Cassian chuckled at the look on her face. 
“Believe it or not, it gets used quite often.”
Nesta had told Elain this wasn’t a vacation, but she made a mental note to take advantage of the sauna as much as possible while she was stuck there. 
“And here,” Cassian said, taking long strides to the French doors that clearly opened to the outside, “Is the back patio.”
It was a sliver of space that was sandwiched between the house and the sloping hill next to it, but it was big enough for a small lap pool, an outdoor shower and a Jacuzzi. 
“If you didn’t bring your own, there are extra towels and swimsuits for guests in the linen closet. Although…” Cassian’s eyelids drooped as he eyed her up and down, the tip of his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth. “I’m not one for ceremony around here.” 
Nesta looked at him and took two steps closer. His grin widened, showing his canines. 
She tilted her face towards him, her smile matching his. “Eat shit,” she said and walked away. She heard his bark of laughter behind her.
The only other room on the first floor was the master bedroom which was modest in size given what Nesta has need of the house so far, but it did open up to its own private patio with a spectacular view of the forest meeting the water. 
What wasn’t modest however, was the master bathroom and closet, which combined was the same size as the bedroom. Possibly bigger.
Nesta felt an odd flutter in her chest when she saw Feyre’s clothes neatly hanging in the closet next to Rhys’. She quickly left the room and almost ran into Cassian in the corridor. 
“The bedrooms are upstairs. You can have your pick,” he said.
She was surprised that he didn’t add any additional commentary when she nodded at him. 
She wanted to protest when he grabbed her suitcase on the way, but she found that her throat was dry, so she simply followed him up the stairs.
“So when are Elain and Gregory showing up?” Cassian asked. 
Nesta couldn’t tell if he was trying to make a joke or if he really forgot Graysen’s name. Either way, it was funny enough to take the sting out of the fact that Elain was still in Los Angeles and Nesta allowed herself a smile. 
“Not until tomorrow,” she answered stopping next to him on the second floor. 
He gestured to the first door which stood ajar. “This is my bedroom. Feel free to stop by anytime.” He nudged the door open further as he grinned at her.
Nesta looked at him and refused to let her eyes wander past his shoulder. That was exactly what he wanted and she wasn’t going to play his game. She held his gaze with a hard glare of her own and then continued down the hallway.
Cassian chuckled as he easily caught up with her. “Mor and Az’s rooms, but they’re not here to object if you take one. Guest bath, guest bath, guest room, and another guest room. This one actually has its own bath connected to it.”
“Great,” Nesta said, pushing the door open and dropping her work bag onto the bed. The fact that the bedroom had its own bathroom was a plus enough, but it being as far away as possible from Cassian was a little miracle that she thought the universe owed her. 
Cassian followed and set the suitcase down at the foot of the bed. “There’s one more floor…if you’re interested in seeing the library.”
He left the room and it irritated her that he already knew the answer before she even said it. 
Nesta debated whether or not to close her bedroom door and deny Cassian the acknowledgement that he knew anything about her. However small the insight was, it felt like a violation, especially since she hadn’t offered the fact willingly. 
In the end, her love of books won out and when she reappeared in the hallway, she saw Cassian leaning against the railing at the end of the corridor, waiting for her.
“Needed a moment?”
Nesta’s spine tingled with fire. “Your big ego was sucking all of the air out of the room. I needed to catch my breath.”
Cassian’s grin widened, but he didn’t provide a remark which Nesta thought was oddly out of character for him. He simply stood up, stretched his arms over his head which revealed a slice of bronzed skin between his jeans and t-shirt, and began to climb the stairs.
He was trying to rile her up on purpose and she refused to fall for the bait.
The entire third floor of the house was half terrace that looked like it doubled as an outdoor living space, complete with outdoor sofas and loungers, and even another dining table, and a library. Any wall that wasn’t lined with floor to ceiling bookcases was a window. 
The focus of the third floor, as was with the other floors, was the breathtaking view onto Lake Velaris, but Nesta was overcome by the stacks before her. Unlike the office where the bookshelves were all lined with trinkets and photos, the library was full of an extensive collection of books. 
There was all the classics, bound in leather. Some, to Nesta’s surprise were even first or second editions, just sitting there waiting to be touched. There were old Californian almanacs and all types of history books. There were large atlases spanning decades and art books featuring well-known and obscure artists alike. And a quarter of the books were in different languages. Nesta counted at least five as she scanned the shelves. 
She rounded one of the stacks and saw Cassian sitting in a window seat. His legs were stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. His arm was slung across the upholstered back of the seat and he was looking out the window, watching the trees rustle in the breeze.
His ear twitched when he heard her approaching and he turned to look at her. “Does it please the lady?”
Leave it to Cassian to ruin the first bit of real happiness Nesta had found since she had arrived. And no longer under the library’s spell, she crossed her arms. 
“Why aren’t you in France?”
Cassian raised his eyebrow, amused, but also a little perplexed. “What an odd question to ask someone. Why aren’t you in France?” 
Nesta did not want to play this game with him. “Why aren’t you in France with Feyre and Rhys and…the others?”
“Oh.” He scratched his chin and the sound of his fingernails against his five o’clock shadow grated on Nesta’s nerves. “I was never in France with Feyre and Rhys and…the others.” 
He grinned at her, then leaned his shoulder against the shelf next to him. 
“Actually, I was in France with them, but only for a couple of days back in February. Have you ever been to Taillé? It’s a bit pretentious, but the risotto was top notch. That reminds me…” Cassian was on his feet in one graceful movement and was leaving Nesta behind as he descended the stairs.
Nesta rolled her eyes. It was rich that he would call anything pretentious considering the fact that they were currently quarantining themselves in a lake-side mansion. 
She could hear him shuffling and moving things around on the first floor so she gave the library one final longing look, with the promise to return, and went downstairs.
In the kitchen, Cassian was putting things away. It looked as though he had been in the middle of doing so when Nesta had first arrived. 
She walked slowly around the grey marble island, taking stock of the groceries and nearly stumbled over a crate of wine at her feet.
“You never answered my question,” she said, plucking a grape from its bunch.
Cassian looked back at her.
Was he really this dumb or was he trying to get under her skin?
“Why aren’t you in France with…your family?”
He shrugged. “Rhys was there because Feyre was. I think he was using the time to look for some real estate opportunities, and since Azriel’s his finance guy, he needed to be there to bless any deals. And Mor…just does whatever she wants, but if you ask her, she’d say as vice president, her role was crucial.”
“Don’t you work for Rhys, too?”
Cassian paused at putting the eggs away. “My company works for Rhys’.”
“Your company? What does it do?” She had to admit, she was a little intrigued and paused to wonder if he had told her this before. Perhaps at some gathering or dinner she had been forced to attend.
The color on Cassian’s ears made her think her suspicions were true. 
“Cyber security.” His answer was curt. 
So she could get under his skin. 
“Like in…hacking and stuff?”
“Something like that.���
Maybe not so dumb after all. 
“And your family asked you to stock the house with provisions in the anticipation of their arrival.”
“I volunteered.”
“But now they’re stuck in Europe and you’re stuck…with me.” It satisfied her to think he might be equally as unhappy as she was with this arrangement.
Cassian turned to her, closing the fridge door behind him. The tension in his shoulders was gone, or perhaps it was never there to begin with. Maybe she had misread his body language because his usual arrogant grin had returned.
“I like to think we’re stuck here together.” He picked up a box of rigatoni. “Hungry?”
There was the tip of his tongue again, poking out of the corner of his smile.
Nesta bristled. “No,” she said before grabbing a banana from the bowl in front of her and turning on her heels to march upstairs.
She hoped she wouldn’t have to deal with him for the rest of the night.
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walnutwarehouse01 · 2 months
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servicestarrealty · 3 years
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FOR RENT - 1580 E San Tan St, Chandler, AZ 85225-5280
You will love this beautiful 3+2 Chandler home with a 3-car garage! Desirable open floor plan features neutral gray/tan color scheme, 18 tile flooring, carpet in bedrooms, and vaulted ceilings w/fans throughout. Bright, inviting living room/dining room which opens into a Beautiful white cabinetry kitchen with a center island topped with dark walnut counters no cutting on this, plus sleek black appliances, and ample quartz counters. The sunny bay window breakfast nook & walk-out to the covered rear patio to a lovely, manicured backyard w/ lush lawn. Spacious family room features gas fireplace w/tile surround & great natural light. Comfortable master retreat w/neutral carpet, 5-piece attached bath & walk-in closet. Three additional bedrooms (4th bedroom is study w/ built-in desk/bookcase), full bathroom w/ double vanity & laundry room complete this beautiful home. Immaculately maintained and ready for you to move-in! the home also offers: ADA height toilets 2 roll-a-shade security shutters on the east side, and 3 roll-a-shade security shutters on the windows on the west side of the house. Chamberlain belt drive garage door openers with WiFi. High Efficiency (SEER 20) heat pump.
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shakespearenews · 4 years
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When Forrest’s father died in 1819, the 13-year-old attempted to apprentice with a printer, a cooper, and finally a ship chandler. However, the occupation he was meant to embrace became obvious to him while attending a lecture on nitrous oxide in early 1820. During the lecture he volunteered to participate in an experiment with the gas. Like others who took it, he behaved somewhat strangely and broke into a soliloquy from Shakespeare’s Richard III. His performance so impressed a Philadelphia lawyer named John Swift that he arranged an audition for Forrest at Walnut Street Theatre, and it was there that he had his formal stage debut on 27 November 1820 as Young Norval in John Home’s Douglas
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