#dawn the duck has covid

[dawnthefluffyduck]

For this Valentine's Day, I've chosen to show appreciation to the local viruses for the week

#in other words #dawn the duck has covid #yippie #my cousin has a wedding on saturday and now I'll miss it :( #ducks #doodles #the pen smeared like crazy i am livid #update four hours later: new record temperature of 102.2 :O #this is by far worse than anything i caught last year #i cannot walk in a straight line and am now relying on the wall rail to go downstairs bc I'll fall otherwise #am so dizzy if i turn my head too fast #ive got a quiz to do before midnight with a four minute timer i have no idea how I'm gonna do it #will update with results

[violetflowerswrites]

Taking it Slow

Summary: An unexpected explosion severely injures you, and Jim Street, your LAPD SWAT roommate, comes to your rescue. The life and death situation makes you reevaluate the status of your “just casually dating” relationship.

Pairing: Jim Street x (Female) Reader

Disclaimer: Cannon violence and danger. Mentions of fire, explosions, and bombs. Location is an elementary school, mentions of danger to minors, but reader is the only one injured. Gruesome descriptions of bodily injury and blood. Some angst and mentions of divorce. BUT ALSO consensual kissing and touching. The smut in this is absolutely filthy as usual. Oral sex (female receiving). Consensual P in V sex. Street has a big cock. 18+ for explicit smut, violence, and language

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: I finally got around to watching more SWAT after taking a break from crime dramas and I gotta say, Season 4 has been SO good. The commentary on our Covid and post-Covid society especially with race and Black Lives Matter is so thoughtfully done. I was re-inspired to make a part 2 of my Jim Street fic from back in July 2022! This fic can be standalone but it is technically a continuation from “Too Complicated.” Enjoy!

Part One Here - “Too Complicated”

Masterlist Here

…

“All Units please respond, bomb at Harriet Tubman Elementary, repeat bomb and fire at Tubman Elementary.”

The police scanner radio squawks to life in the leather-scented interior of Sergeant Daniel “Hondo” Harrelson’s sliver Dodge Charger.

Hondo locks eyes with Jim Street, LAPD SWAT. His expression falls immediately, drawn and serious.

A school bombing?

Not on their watch.

”20 David, Sergeant Harrelson responding. Let’s roll!”

…

Your pink highlighter squeaks across the tiny Times New Roman text of each signature line on the paperwork you’re preparing.

A tightness in your neck forces you to pause and lean your head to the side, trying to release the tension in your body.

It’s another tough case. The student was expelled out of a previous school due to repeated fighting. His current teacher is young and inexperienced, and the counselor is definitely overwhelmed. You were called in to take over his case and then recommend him to a therapist, a behaviorist, a specialist, someone before he was expelled again.

Who knew that an 8 year old could wreak so much havoc at a school?

You glance out the window of the 2nd floor classroom, watching the poor kid get into a screaming match with a yard duty. The bright red digital display of the classroom clock shows 9:00 am in blinking lights that seem to say…

tick

tock

It’s

only

9

freakin

AM

on a Monday.

But, no one could have predicted what would happen in the next ten seconds.

One

A thunderous boom echoes across the playground, so loud that all the kids freeze, balls dropped and forgotten.

Two

Thousands of shards of shattered glass fly through the air as the school building collapses into itself from the roof downwards.

Three

The ear-splitting screech of the fire alarm forces everyone to cover their ears, eyes squeezed shut.

Four

Smoke rises in thick gray plumes into the sky, followed by bright orange flames.

Five

The stampede of three hundred little feet shakes the earth as panicked children run towards the grass field, away from their burning school.

Six

Bewildered shouts across the blacktop try to account for all the children, staff members still running out of the smoke.

Seven

Wide-eyed stares fill with tears as it dawns on the kids what had happened.

Eight

A dozen simultaneous calls to 911, all trying to be heard over the crying, screams, and shouts.

Nine

A terrifying pop pop pop makes everyone flinch and duck for cover, as the heat from the fire breaks even more windows. But it could have been gunshots. Everyone doesn’t dare to move.

Ten

After those ten, chaotic seconds, you finally open your dust-filled eyes, ears ringing, sounds muffled as if you were underwater, and your dazed mind takes several agonizing seconds to comprehend the scene around you.

Fallen desks and books scattered haphazardly across the classroom.

Shattered glass reflecting the flickering flames of a fire somewhere above you.

Looking up, a gaping hole in the ceiling leading to a smoke-stained blue sky.

The incessant blaring of the fire alarm doesn’t help your clearly concussed head make sense of it all.

You deduce that there had been some kind of accident. An explosion maybe.

And that caused an industrial AC unit to collapse through the ceiling, knock you out of your chair, and pin one of your legs from the waist down.

And now, an alarming pool of blood was starting to seep from under the crumpled gray metal.

Even more alarming, you couldn’t feel a thing underneath the crushing weight.

“Oh. I’m dying.” You huff out loud, your logical deduction giving way into dark humor.

You twist your neck around, the soreness long forgotten, and try to find something, anything, to help yourself survive.

You grab your cardigan, covered in drywall dust, and slip it under your upper thigh, tying the sleeves together as tight as it could possibly go. The makeshift tourniquet immediately soaks up your blood, turning the cream-colored yarn into a horrific deep red.

Bile rises in your throat as panic sets in, but you push it down, desperate to get out of this.

You look down, realizing that your phone fell out of the pocket of your jacket when you grabbed it. The screen is cracked, but usable.

Without hesitating, you press a number on your phone and it starts to ring. There’s only one person in the world you want to talk to before you lose consciousness. Maybe forever.

…

“Street! What do you think you’re doing?”

“What? You’ve never played in one of these as a kid?”

You’re out on another casual date with Jim Street, LAPD SWAT. Also known as your impulsive, annoying, immature, and absolutely adorable roommate.

That you had accidentally-on-purpose kissed one drunken night. Which led to much more…for several hours.

And now, the two of you went out most every weekend, casually dating, but not trying to label it…yet.

“Come on, Y/N! It’ll be fun!”

Street ducks into an arcade, which immediately deafens you with a cacophony of beeps and honks, electronic character voices, and techno dance music. It’s an overstimulating nightmare so you focus on the leather-clad back of Street, who is leading you deeper into the room.

A couple of surly teens throw judgemental side eyes at the two of you, grown-ass adults screaming and shouting at basketball, skew-ball, and claw machines.

You clutch a small blue plushie, from Lilo and Stitch, courtesy of Street’s claw machine skills, as he whoops upon seeing another game, his childhood favorite.

“Yes! We have to play this next!” Street grins at you from ear to ear.

You hesitate for a split second, but shake your head, chuckling, “Okay NASCAR, wait for me!”

You tease him, knowing that Street’s name is all too fitting, his long history of all things on wheels that can go faster than 100 miles per hour is well known.

You sit behind the plastic wheel of the racing game as Street quickly punches in a couple quarters.

“Think you can keep up?” Street teases you immediately.

“Mhm.” You reply, your face dead serious, all traces of amusement long gone.

Street takes in your expression and furrows his brow.

“Oh shit!” He exclaims as you leave him in the dust, your digital car screeching as the wheels fight against the tight turns.

You’re silent, the only sounds are the quiet clicking of your foot pressing on the fake gas pedals of the game.

Your car peels around the track, going into the final lap, with a 3 second lead on Street.

“Oh my god, are you seriously drifting?” Street shouts in frustration, watching your vehicle slide sideways against the last tight turn and across the finish line with a flourish.

He smacks the wheel and laughs.

“That was crazy, Y/N. I didn’t expect you to be so good! I thought you said you didn’t really go to arcades growing up.”

“Can we go home?” You grab your jacket from the armrest of the racing game chair, turning away from Street.

“Uhh…yeah sure.” Street says slowly, confused.

You walk quickly out of the arcade, a mix of frustration, shame, and sadness filling you.

Hands clench into fists at your sides as you suck in a shaky breath, trying to steady your whirlwind of emotion.

Street half-jogs to catch up with you, calling your name. He reaches out a hand to grab your wrist, but the instant he makes contact you snatch your arm back abruptly.

“Don’t touch me!” You snap, more harshly than you intended.

Street’s face flashes confusion, hurt, and a bit of anger all at once. You see him stifle the urge to snap back at you, and instead, he shoves his hands into his pockets, his shoulders slumped down and he quietly pleads with you instead.

“Talk to me, Y/N. Don’t keep it in again.”

You know you’re acting like an asshole and ruining the date. Street surprised you with being the mature one in this situation while you’re the one taking out your emotions on him.

So you slowly reach out to take one of his hands in both of yours. It’s warm, heavy, and sure in your grasp, a reassuring anchor. You clutch his hand close to your chest and duck your head down, unable to make eye contact.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. Just tell me what’s going on. Please?”

“It’s just—I’m not used to opening up like this.”

“I know. We’re learning how to, with each other.” Street slips his free hand under your chin, lifting your head up to kiss you affectionately on the cheek.

“Take your time.”

You sigh into his touch, releasing some of the tightness in your chest.

“Can we get ice cream first?”

…

Over a double scoop of cookies and cream, you confide in Street more of your life story.

How there was a period of time in middle school where you used to spend hours at the arcade after school to avoid going home.

Your parents were fighting constantly and you just couldn’t take all the screaming. Your older sister was in high school and worked part time, so she would drop you off with a handful of quarters and get you after.

For some reason, that racing game became your focus, your obsession. You channeled all your frustration, all your hurt, all your pain into that game.

It was your escape.

“It feels silly to freak out now. It’s been well over a decade since I’ve played that game.” You mumble into your ice cream.

“It’s not silly,” Street reassures you, “It’s a painful part of your life.”

You scrunch up your nose and murmur in agreement, not really wanting to think about it anymore. You take another lick of your ice cream, accidentally getting some on your cheek.

Street reaches out with a finger to wipe the smudge of the sticky treat off your face and instead of cleaning his hands on a napkin, he decides to lick it off instead.

You raise your eyebrows in surprise, the gesture unexpectedly sexy, but Street just chuckles.

“What? You taste good.”

…

You clutch Street by the collar of his leather jacket, slamming his broad back against the apartment door.

He drops the keys with a clatter, slides a free hand up to lock the door before gripping the back of your neck roughly, returning your desperate kiss.

“Y/N. Are you sure?” He releases your lips with a pant, pressing his forehead to yours and checking in with you.

Consent is so sexy, especially coming from him. Your previous boyfriends always took what they wanted, when they wanted, and you thought that’s how sex had to be.

It was only after being with Street that you realized how gentle, how considerate, and how trustworthy someone could be during sex.

Street treated you with respect, with reverence. He took his time to worship your body.

You were his queen, his goddess, and even if he didn’t say as much in words, he sure as hell showed it with his actions.

So yes.

You were fucking sure you wanted him.

You pulled off your clothes as you walked ahead of him towards your room, dropping fabric across the hallway on your way there.

Street followed quickly, stopping at the foot of your bed with his jeans still on. His chest visibly flushed red as he stared in wonder at your naked form. And he half-laughed, half-groaned out loud.

How did you manage to get your clothes off so quickly and look so damn delicious on the bed for him?

He grabs both of your ankles and drags you down, lifting them up above his shoulders so he can taste you.

You lean back on both elbows, your hair splayed across the sheets as you tip your head back in delight.

“Oh shit, that feels so good.” You breathe out, a moan slipping through your lips.

“Mmm, I can tell.” Street smiles into your pussy as he licks long strips up your core. He finds your clit within a few moments, and starts alternating sucking and licking the sensitive nub.

Your thighs start shaking as the stimulation shoots down your legs.

Street’s chin grows slick as your arousal throbs out of your core, but he simply holds down your thighs with his strong grip, and dives his tongue into your center even more.

It’s only when you spasm particularly hard, almost kicking him in the head that he finally releases you, chuckling as he swipes a thumb across his lips, wiping off some of your juices.

Your body is still twitching, your nerve endings shooting electricity from your core all the way down to your toes and you throw an arm back across your forehead, trying to recover.

“Come on, you can’t be done yet…” Street teases.

“Absolutely not.” You laugh out in a huff, “j-just…give me a minute.”

“Nah.”

Street lifts your legs again, this time crossing them behind his hips, so that he can line himself up to your entrance.

He pushes in slowly, but just the round head of his cock stretches your pussy to the point that you have to grab his arms and stop him.

“Hold on, Jim.”

Street freezes. You only call him by his first name when you’re being serious or something’s wrong.

He pulls out immediately and lifts you up into a sitting position. He immediately grabs your face in his hands, searching your eyes for pain.

“I’m so sorry, did I hurt you? We can stop— I didn’t mean to—“

You grip his wrists and gently remove them from your cheeks. Instead, you press a gentle kiss to his lips, your gaze at him soft and reassuring.

“I’m okay. Let’s try a different position.”

“Are you sure?”

You turn around, holding up your weight on your hands and knees, and spreading your hips back. You flip your hair over your shoulder and glance back at him with a smirk.

“You haven’t made me cum yet, have you?”

Slowly, Street’s concerned look spreads into a smile.

“No, I haven’t.”

“So fuck me.”

Street holds his cock steady while you carefully push back against him, controlling the pace.

When you’ve fully taken him in, now adjusted to his size, Street still hesitates.

“It’s okay. I’m ready now.” You brace yourself.

“Be as rough as you want.”

A sound akin to a growl escapes from the man who is balls deep in your pussy.

He places a bruising grip on your right shoulder and left hip, and slams you back, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

He does that again and again - pulling out almost all the way before slamming your body back against him almost violently.

“Oh fuck!” You yelp each time, your pussy throbbing around him.

Street then pushes your neck down, and you fist the sheets in your hands as you press into the bed, your ass in the air as he thrusts into you relentlessly.

You can hear your bottom smacking against his strong abs, as he swings his hips into you over and over.

And that cock, his huge, delicious cock, spears your pussy in just the right place every time.

“Oh my god, Street. That feels so good!” Your muffled voice can barely be heard over his grunting. God, you love it when men are loud during sex.

Before you know it, you’re close. Street must be too because he snakes a firm arm around your tummy and lifts you up, holding you tightly to his chest. Your core is still clenched in a vice grip around his member as he thrusts upward into your pussy.

“Street! Oh wow! You’re so big!” You praise him, feeling his cock hitting your cervix from his position.

“Yeah? You like it when my cock hits your pussy. Just. like. that?” Street punctuates his question with a hard bounce into you.

“Mmph!” You moan, and you grab his arm, still trapping you against his sweat-slicked body.

“Street,” you pant.

“Yeah?”

“Go faster.”

With a guttural groan, Street grabs the flesh around your hips and drills up into you. His cock drives in and out at a speed that could only be described as mechanical, a piston that pumps as deep as it could possibly go before pulling out and slamming back in as far as it can go.

You fall onto the bed again, unable to do anything but hold on far dear life as Street rails you like a rag doll.

Within seconds, you feel that familiar tingle spread from your core to your entire body, washing over you in waves of pleasure.

“Oh god— I’m cumming!” You scream, gasping for air.

You are answered with a growl as Street collapses on top of you, cumming inside your throbbing core, your pussy milking every last drop from his twitching cock.

Fuck, that was incredible.

After a few moments, you crawl out from under him, and stand up to head to the shower. He leans up on an elbow, watching you with a blissed-out smile. You tie your hair up into a messy bun, the simple action somehow sensual as hell as he sees your bare shoulder blades squeeze together as you reach up to your head.

You turn, catching him admiring you.

“What?” You ask, totally unaware.

“You’re beautiful.”

Your already hot skin somehow flushes even hotter at his words. You have a love-hate relationship with Street’s compliments.

So you just lean down and peck his cheek with kiss-puffed lips.

“Go to bed. We both have work tomorrow.” You whisper before pushing him back onto the mattress, shaking your head in laughter.

…

Your current reality is a universe away from yesterday’s date night with Jim Street.

You stare at his name on the phone, willing him to pick up.

“Y/N?”

Before you can explain to him, you hear the police radio in his car announce your school site and the bombing.

“Jim. I’m there.”

Street is speechless, the dots connecting with several torturous seconds as his worst fears become true.

One

You had told him that morning that you weren’t going into the office, but visiting a school today.

Two

You never call him, preferring to text. If it’s a call, something must be urgent.

Three

You almost never call him by his first name.

Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Hondo responds to the radio but Street barely hears it as he shouts into the phone.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

“There’s been an explosion. A bomb? An AC unit fell through the roof. I’m trapped on the second floor.”

“Are you hurt?” Street repeats his question, desperation seeping into his tone.

Somehow you hesitate to tell him. So instead, you switch to video call and show him your leg.

Street’s eyes widen in horror as he sees the bloodied, crushed flesh.

Hondo glances at Street’s phone, his siren already screaming down the streets of LA.

“We’re coming.”

…

“You can’t keep me here, Hondo! Y/N is hurt, I have to get to her!”

“Street, you’re compromised. You’re gonna take risks and I can’t have you do that, not when there are kids here who need your head straight.”

Another sudden crash makes both men instinctually duck for cover. They had just arrived into a horror scene, with a blazing fire, fire trucks dousing the building with water, police holding back hysterical parents, ambulances treating kids and staff for smoke inhalation, and a soot-smeared principal talking to the fire marshal.

Hondo makes a beeline for her, Street on his heels.

“Sergeant Harrelson, LAPD SWAT. Is everyone accounted for?”

“Yes, all the kids and staff, but we’re missing one visitor, a social worker.”

Street chokes your name out, to which the principal nods, confirming that it’s you.

Meanwhile you breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Thank god everyone is safe.” You remark weakly, still on the phone, hearing their entire conversation.

Street is astonished you can think about others but his train of thought is interrupted when Chris in his comms crackles to life.

“There! I got eyes on the bomber! He’s on the roof, east side!”

“We have to go!” Street yells desperately.

“Okay.” Hondo huffs out, making a split second decision.

“Tan, go with Street and get Y/N out. Weapons hot, masks on, the bomber might run into the building. Deacon, you’re with me, let’s trap this rat.”

Street wastes no time running inside the smoke-filled building, his flashlight barely penetrating the ash and dust as he finds the stairs and runs up, Tan covering his back, sweeping his gun back and forth just in case the bomber decides to come their way.

“I’m coming, Y/N. Ten seconds out.” Street speaks into his comms, and his phone, for your benefit too.

But he doesn’t hear a reply.

“Shit!” Street curses. “She was losing a lot of blood, she’s not responding!”

Tan makes a game plan immediately as they keep running.

“I got the AC unit, you start CPR!” Tan shouts.

They skid to a stop at the destroyed classroom, and Street’s heart almost stops at the scene.

Your limp body, lying in a pool of dark blood, trapped under a giant hunk of metal, your phone still clutched in one hand.

Street kneels next to you, his own heartbeat reverberating loudly in his ears.

Thu-thump

He presses his fingers to your neck, feeling for a pulse while leaning down, trying to feel your breath on his face.

Thu-thump

Nothing. He immediately rips his smoke mask off his face and breathes into your mouth.

Once. Twice.

Thu-thump

He braces his hands against your chest and pushes down forcefully, starting CPR compressions.

Thu-thump

With a grating screech of metal, Tan manages to tip the AC unit off of you, revealing your upper thigh soaked in blood and your leg clearly broken in at least two parts.

Thu-thump

Street barely glances down to look, focusing on bringing you back to life. He feels for a pulse again, finally feeling a weak heartbeat, but a heartbeat nonetheless.

“She’s stable! Let’s get out of here!” Street shouts, throwing his smoke mask back on, and another for you.

Tan has already tied your leg down into two splints, one for your thigh, and another for your calf and ankle.

“Ready!” Tan replies in a voice muffled by his smoke mask, wiping his blood soaked hands on his tactical pants and gripping his gun again.

Street lifts you up, carefully draping your injured leg over his forearm, and cradling your concussed head gently against his shoulder.

He flies down the steps, Tan covering his back.

“This is 25-David, Y/N is secured, coming out of the school now.” Tan communicates to the team.

The moment they step out onto the front lawn of the school, their comms crackle again.

“Don’t do it man, don’t!” Hondo yells out. He must have found the bomber.

“Second bomb!” Chris warns, just as another explosion on the far side of the school collapses the roof completely, burying the spot where you were just trapped, and taking the bomber along with it.

“Hondo! Deacon! Chris!” Tan shouts into comms. The two of them shield you from the debris, holding their breath as they wait for a reply.

After a few moments, they hear Hondo coughing into the radio.

“20-David. We’re okay, we’re coming down.”

Street and Tan breathe a sigh of relief, as the EMTs run up to the three of you, carefully putting you on a stretcher.

Streets hurries alongside them, and jumps up into the back of the ambulance, glancing back at Tan.

“Go!” Tan shouts at him. “I got it covered.”

The last thing Street sees as the doors close is Tan standing with his back illuminated by a school on fire, his hands hanging at his sides, bright red with your blood.

…

Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt !

Vision blurry, it takes a few seconds for your eyes to focus and notice the late afternoon sun streaming through plastic blinds in a white-washed room.

A hospital room. That’s right, you were injured in an explosion at the elementary school, and your leg…

You looked down to see a full cast, from thigh to ankle, keeping your leg locked straight. A thin, polyester blanket covers the rest of your body.

Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt !

The insistent vibrating of a phone turns your attention to where a sleeping Jim Street, still in full SWAT gear, rests his head on his folded arms in the empty space on your bedside. One of his hands holds yours gently, even as he dozes.

You slip your hand out from his warm grip and brush his hair back, still flecked with a bit of ash and dust from the rescue mission.

Your gaze softens as you look at his peaceful face. You must have worried him so much with the accident.

Bzzt Bzzt Bzzt !

You see his phone lying on the table and you can just make out what it says.

5 missed calls from Hondo. 2 texts from Chris and Tan saying he missed the debriefing.

And currently, Commander Hicks is ringing, ready to ream his ass for being irresponsible, you’re sure of it.

“Street.” Your voice cracks. Clearing your throat, you try again, louder this time.

“Street!” You shake his shoulder insistently.

He shoots up, awake in an instant. “Y/N! You’re up!”

His eyes dart over your face, checking for any signs of pain.

“You’re in trouble.”

Street takes one look at his phone and mutters “Shit.” Without thinking, he presses a kiss to your clammy forehead and ducks out the door, phone pressed to his ear.

You bring a tentative hand up to your forehead, a lot dazed and a little shocked. The two of you haven’t really discussed the nature of your relationship after that weekend of crazy sex, trying to take it slow.

But it’s not every day that you get gruesomely injured and your hot as fuck roommate rescues you from near death.

As you hear Street’s muffled apologies outside of your hospital room, fuzzy memories start coming back to you.

White letters of a SWAT vest hovering over you as firm hands push down on your weakening heart.

Strong arms holding you up as you feel yourself being carried down a flight of stairs at a ridiculous speed.

The smell of smoke, and the unmistakable smell of Jim Street as he cradles your head into his chest, keeping you safe.

A warm hand never letting go of yours as sirens squeal in the ambulance, your consciousness fading in and out.

A reassuring voice, his voice, telling you that you’re alright, that you're safe.

“I got you, Y/N. I’m right here.”

Fuck taking it slow.

You’re not a girl who normally falls in love with a man in an uniform but damn. You sure as hell get it now.

The door opens with a quiet click and Jim Street steps back inside.

“Hey—“

“I love you.” It comes out a little louder than a whisper. ”I love you, Jim.”

Street's words die in his throat as his eyes widen. He crosses over to you in two strides and simply lifts up your chin so that he can press a kiss to your lips.

A desperate, urgent, love-filled kiss that says just how scared, just how terrified he was to lose you.

And just how much he loves you too.

….

#swat #swat cbs #cbs swat #jim street #jim street fic #jim street imagine #jim street smut #jim street x reader #street x reader #swat imagine #swat fic #swat smut

[arpov-blog-blog]

..."Operation Warp Speed, the Trump-era program that poured billions of dollars into developing COVID shots, seemed to signal a new dawn of American vaccine making, demonstrating how decades of scientific grunt work could be turned into lifesaving medicine in a matter of months.

But as a third pandemic winter begins in the United States, its vaccine-making effort has lost steam. Efforts to test and produce next-generation COVID vaccines are bogged down by bureaucratic problems and funding shortfalls. Foreign rivals have raced ahead in approving long-awaited nasal-spray vaccines, including one invented in St. Louis, creating a scenario in which Americans would have to travel abroad for the latest in American vaccine technology.

The Biden administration has launched an 11th-hour effort to restore the country’s edge. In a bid to resurrect Operation Warp Speed, President Joe Biden asked the lame-duck session of Congress this week for $5 billion for next-generation vaccines and therapeutics, as part of a broader $9.25 billion pandemic spending request. But Republicans, having blocked COVID spending packages since the spring amid complaints about how the White House spent earlier allocations, have shown no signs of dropping their resistance.

As a result, even with the pandemic still taking a heavy toll, prospects have dimmed for the two most coveted kinds of next-generation vaccines: nasal sprays that can block more infections, and universal coronavirus shots that can defend against a wider array of ever-evolving variants.

In the coming months, scientists project that COVID could kill tens of thousands of Americans. The cost of infections keeps piling up, too: Long COVID sufferers are battling persistent health problems. And millions are missing work because they catch the virus, exacerbating labor shortages.

No next-generation vaccines are as close at hand, or as likely to reduce the spread of the virus, as those that can be inhaled or sprayed into the nose.

By generating immunity in people’s airways, where the coronavirus first lands, those vaccines can potentially help extinguish infections before they begin. Immunity delivered by a shot in the arm, on the other hand, takes longer to attack the invading virus, giving people good protection against serious disease but not to the infections that spread the virus and let it evolve."

[carnegiemuseumnaturalhistory]

2020 Rector Christmas Bird Count Results

Black-capped Chickadee

On December 20, 2020, 34 intrepid birders braved a wintry mix to count birds in assigned sectors within a 15-mile diameter circle centered just northwest of Powdermill Nature Reserve. Another eight, who lived within designated territory, closely watched their bird feeders and yards for avian visitors. Why would so many birders be out in less-than-ideal weather conditions? They were all participating in the Rector Christmas Bird Count.

Map of the Rector Christmas Bird Count circle with each count sector outlined with red, created by James Whitacre, GIS Research Scientist at Powdermill Nature Reserve.

Christmas Bird Count (CBC) is an annual event sponsored by the National Audubon Society that happens in mid-December through early January, with the compiler of each count circle choosing a specific count date within that timeframe. This year marks the 121st anniversary of the activity. The count started on Christmas day in 1900 with the purpose of censusing birds by counting them in the field using optics rather than by using shotguns. Although there were only 25 count circles in the first CBC, it has grown into an international event with nearly 2900 circles spread across the Western Hemisphere and even to Pacific Islands as far away as Guam and the Northern Mariana Islands.

Today, the CBC is a fun day for birders and bird watchers of all skill levels to head outside with the goal of identifying and counting every bird they see and hear within their count areas. The data gathered though this citizen science initiative contributes to both long-term and short-term population studies. To date, more than 200 peer-reviewed scientific publications have used CBC data in their analyses.

Although the count was a bit different this year with COVID-19 precautions keeping counters in different germ pools separate, we had an excellent turnout of both advanced and beginner birders, including some young birders.

Eastern Screech Owl

Red-headed Woodpecker

And what a count it was! This winter is an irruption year (for more info on irruptive migration, please see this blog.) for many species, and although we didn’t find hordes of these birds during the count, we did see Pine Siskins, Purple Finches, Red-breasted Nuthatches, higher-than-average numbers of Black-capped Chickadees, and the much sought after Evening Grosbeak. The counters recorded many interesting and less common species this year, including the count’s third ever Snow Goose, third ever Eastern Phoebe, and fifth ever Common Yellowthroat. Both the phoebe and Common Yellowthroat are species that winter in the southeastern US. Counting efforts that began an hour before dawn produced exceptional owl numbers (eight Eastern Screech-Owls, one Great Horned Owl, and two Barred Owls). Additionally, the birders recorded high counts for several species including Ruddy Duck, Black Vulture, Bald Eagle, Red-shouldered Hawk, Red-bellied Woodpecker, Common Raven, Carolina Wren, and Song Sparrow. Most notably, the group counted a record-setting seven Red-headed Woodpeckers, a species that is uncommon in southwestern Pennsylvania and can be reliably found in only one spot of suitable habitat within the count circle.

Carolina Wren

We thank all of the participants for a wonderful count this year! In all, we tallied 4361 birds of 69 species, a remarkable result thanks to the valiant effort of all of the counters. We look forward to hosting the Rector count next year!

Annie Lindsay is the Bird Banding Program Manager at Carnegie Museum of Natural History’s Powdermill Nature Reserve. Museum employees are encouraged to blog about their unique experiences and knowledge gained from working at the museum.

#Carnegie Museum of Natural History #Powdermill Nature Reserve #Christmas Bird Count #Birds #Birding

[allsassnoclass]

would pretty please do 72 or 98 from the 100 ways to say I love you prompt list? maybe with the mashton college au? or just mashton in general! (I love your mashton so much) - lily 💛

lily you have been the #1 cheerleader of this series from the beginning you can have as much college mashton as you want

Word count: 4059

Rating: T for teen

Read on ao3 here

mashton: "I'll meet you halfway"

Michael and Ashton call each other every night.

It’s the type of thing Michael has seen his parents do when his dad used to have to travel for work conferences. Sometimes the calls are long, extensive conversations, and sometimes they only last a few minutes, a simple “hello, I love you, I want to hear your voice before I fall asleep.” It’s the type of domestic, mushy stuff that you do with someone you’re spending the rest of your life with. Michael loves it.

He would love it even more if he could actually see Ashton in person.

Ashton stayed over once in June, but since then their schedules haven’t aligned properly. Ashton works weekdays 9-5, and Michael typically works nights and weekends. With Anne Marie taking on longer shifts, leaving Ashton in charge of keeping house more often, there hasn’t been a lot of time to try and plan a day trip.

When classes start next week, it’s just going to get worse. Michael has been holed up in his apartment with very little contact with the outside world for three months. He goes to work. He comes home. Sometimes he orders take-out and gets to nod at the person handing it to him. He’s sick of his college town, and somehow he doesn’t think that having everyone else on campus is going to help. COVID policy is very similar to how it was in the spring, and Michael hated the spring.

“This fucking sucks,” he says. “It’s my senior year and all I want to do is leave.”

“So why don’t you?” Ashton asks, tinny and pixelated on Michael’s phone. “You have tomorrow and Sunday off, right?”

“Yeah.” He asked for it off at the beginning of the summer, in case he needed time to mentally prepare for the school year.

“Let’s go somewhere. Pick a city between us and I’ll meet you halfway. I’ve been saving a fuckton on rent, you’ve been saving all summer, we can get a hotel and make a time of it.”

“Really?” Michael asks.

“Yeah. Why not?”

Michael pauses. He’s never been the type of person to plan spontaneous outings, but he doesn’t really have an argument against this one. He wants to see Ashton. He wants to get out of the apartment. A two-day date in a different city sounds like the perfect solution.

“Come on,” Ashton says. “Pick the city. I’ll plan everything else.”

“Okay.”

Ashton grins. Michael automatically mirrors it. Later that night Michael gets out his computer to find the best location between them. There’s a decently large city that’s an obvious choice, and Michael doesn’t have the focus to do any more research on whether this one or one of the smaller ones has better attractions. He figures the larger it is, the more he’ll give Ashton to work with as he plans, so that’s the name he texts. Ashton texts him at midnight with an address and instructions to meet him there at 10:00. Michael mourns the loss of one of his last opportunities to sleep in, but he’d wake up before dawn to see Ashton if he had to.

-/-

Ashton is waiting outside the coffee shop when Michael pulls up. He’s leaning against the side of the building, head tilted up towards the sun and eyes closed, and Michael’s heart clenches violently in his chest. He’s beautiful. Michael has missed him so much over the past few months that he’s torn between wanting to drink in the sight of him and needing to touch him right now.

Ashton opens his eyes as Michael approaches, like he can somehow distinguish his footsteps from those of everyone else passing by. Michael knows that it’s impossible, but part of him wants to believe that he and Ashton have that sort of connection.

Ashton smiles, letting it bloom across his face like a flower in spring. Michael can barely stop himself from running the last few steps to hug him. They end up crashing together in the middle of the sidewalk either way, arms immediately clutching tightly. Michael has the single-minded goal to squeeze all of the oxygen out of Ashton’s lungs.

“Hi,” Ashton says in Michael’s ear, arms wrapped around his shoulders, pressing them together the entire length of their bodies. “Hi, I love you. Holy shit, I’ve missed you so much.”

He tries to pull away and Michael tightens his grip.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he asks. “I’ve been hug-deprived for months.”

Ashton snorts and resettles.

“I really fucking love you,” he sighs.

Michael smiles into his neck and soaks in the feeling.

An undetermined time later (that is probably longer than socially acceptable), Michael finally leans back enough to plant one firm kiss on Ashton’s lips, then breaks the hug fully. Ashton’s grin is wide and dopey, and he knows that his is the same and they probably look insane to everyone else, but Michael doesn’t care. Long distance sucks. Being here with Ashton is the best he’s felt in a long time.

“Hi,” Ashton repeats.

“Hi,” Michael replies. “You look like shit.”

Ashton beams, because Michael confessed to him a while ago that he only says that when he’s too overwhelmed to think of a worthy compliment, because Ashton’s ability to always look flawless is infuriating. Sometimes Michael regrets telling him, because it’s embarrassing and Ashton doesn’t need an ego, but then Ashton reacts like this and it makes Michael want to shout endless compliments from the rooftops to get a hint of that smile.

Ashton ducks forward and kisses him again. Michael has to restrain himself from getting lost in it, because they’re in public. They’re sharing a hotel room tonight, so Michael can refill on kisses then.

“Come on,” Ashton says. “Let’s go inside. I want an iced coffee.” He pulls a mask out of his pocket and Michael follows suit, then they head into the little cafe.

The intoxicating smell of coffee is potent enough to seep through Michael’s mask. The shop itself is small and cozy, with a black and white tiled floor and dark wooden tables with little kitschy coffee decorations scattered around. There are three big plush armchairs by a fireplace that could be decorative or could actually be functional, and a few children’s books are scattered on the side tables near them. Ashton tugs him towards the counter before he can look around more, greeting the barista with a friendly hello and his order. Michael adds his and a pastry, then they make quiet comments about the flavor shots available and various menu items until their orders are ready.

“So,” Ashton says when they’ve sat down and spent a bit too long smiling at each other rather than talking.

“So,” Michael repeats, taking a sip of his coffee. Ashton holds his hand out on the table, palm up, and Michael takes it so Ashton can fiddle with the promise ring on his finger. “What’s the plan for the day?”

“Well, we can’t check in to the hotel until 4, so I figured after this we could wander around downtown a bit, grab some lunch, then go to the zoo.”

“The zoo?” Michael asks. “What are we, five?”

“I’ll hold your hand the whole time and buy you Dippin’ Dots,” Ashton bribes in a singsong voice. Michael is such a sucker for him.

“That’s a very tempting offer,” Michael says, resting his chin in his palm. Ashton smiles, because he knows that Michael is a sucker for him, especially when they’re holding hands and he has Dippin’ Dots.

Ashton brings his hand to his lips and kisses it. Michael feels like he’s going to melt into a puddle of goo right there in the coffee shop. It’s like a few weeks away have reset them to an insufferable honeymoon phase rather than letting them operate like normal people out in society.

They manage to finish their coffees without making everyone around them nauseated, then walk around wasting time until they find an acceptable lunch place. Ashton points out weird-looking stores and boutiques as they go, and sometimes they enter and look around but mostly they window shop. Michael feels something inside him resettle a little every time Ashton laughs or hits his arm to point something out.

Lunch passes in much the same way as coffee did. They talk about whatever strikes their fancy and eat food that’s good but not great and hold hands across the table. Michael covers lunch because Ashton covered coffee and promised to buy him Dippin’ Dots, so it should all even out.

They can’t leave a car in the coffee shop lot for hours on end, so they have to drive separately to the zoo. It’s tragic, because one of Michael’s favorite things to do is to drive with Ashton, whether he’s in the driver’s seat or the passenger, but he follows behind him instead, always keeping his license plate in sight. They don’t get parking spaces by each other, since it’s one of the last summer weekends and the place is crowded with minivans carrying families for one last big outing before school starts, but Ashton waits for him by the main gate and obediently takes his hand the moment they enter.

“Do you want a map?” Ashton asks, side-stepping a toddler that’s paused in the middle of the walkway to stare at some of the strangers passing by.

“Nah,” Michael says. “Let’s just wander. We have a few hours.”

Ashton smiles and tugs him along the path, picking a direction and setting off until they get to the first exhibit. They stand in line an acceptable amount for some moose, then zip through the rest of the North American section relatively quickly. Ashton names every animal they pass, on occasion reading a line here or there from the signs describing them without slowing down for the whole thing. Michael judges his naming abilities and chimes in with a few of his own ideas, then they continue on and let younger kids have their turn by the fences or glass cases.

"I think we should get one of those once we move in together," Michael says, gesturing at the lion sunning herself on top of a rock outcropping.

"You want a cat?" Ashton asks. "I thought we were leaning towards a dog. I've been trying to warm up to the idea of a dog."

"I don’t want a cat, I want Sheila," Michael says. "Look at her. So majestic. So cuddly."

The lion now known as Sheila flicks her tail, but otherwise doesn't move.

"Sure, I'll kidnap her once we have a place. She'll be very happy with us."

Michael squeezes his hand, and they move past the rest of the big cats and into the aquatic building, where Ashton takes a picture of the penguins and sends it to Luke with the caption "nice to see u and ur fam out and about!!!" Michael finds the seahorses and stares at them for a bit, Ashton reading the information cards out loud when he starts to get antsy. They both decide that there are too many fish to name each one, so each tank instead gets a name and subsequent fish get numbers. When they can't waste any more time there, they head back out into the August heat, wandering further into the zoo.

Ashton gets Michael his promised Dippin' Dots between the African and Australian sections. They take a short break to sit for a few moments at one of the few clean tables, watching geese harass families in the hopes of earning a few crumbs and kids bouncing around waiting for their parents to finish.

"Food tax," Ashton says, opening his mouth. Michael rolls his eyes and takes a small spoonful of chocolate-flavored ice cream, feeding it to him across the table.

"Thanks," he says. "Instagram tax."

Michael holds up the Dippin' Dots and beams for the camera, sure that Ashton already has some good and awful secret shots he took that will end up in the photo dump whenever he decides to post.

"Come on," Michael says. "Let's go see some kangaroos."

By the time they finish their rounds of the zoo, it's well past time for them to check in at the hotel. Ashton still insists on stopping at the gift shop to look at the stuffed animals. Michael waits by the door and isn't paying attention enough to stop Ashton from bringing a lion up to the register.

"A tiny Shelia to hold you over until we can get the real thing," he says, presenting the stuffed animal to Michael with a flourish.

"Holy shit, I love you," Michael says, cuddling mini-Sheila close. "You're the best boyfriend ever." Ashton simply grins and kisses him on the cheek.

"So," he says once they're past the zoo gates, hand linked with Michael's once again and walking him to his car. "Do you want to go to the hotel or straight to dinner?"

"The hotel first," Michael says.

Ashton nods and kisses him again with a quick "see you soon."

The ride to the hotel feels like it takes simultaneously five seconds and five years. Michael is getting antsy at the idea of them getting a room to themselves for a while. He's gone multiple hours without sticking his tongue down Ashton's throat, which is a huge show of restraint when they've been apart this long, but he's so ready to do that now. He can't wait to finally fall asleep next to him again or watch shitty network TV while cuddling after dinner.

The hotel itself is a little fancier than Michael expected, if the state of the lobby is anything to go by. He goes up to the counter with Ashton while he checks in, listening when Ashton asks about good restaurants nearby and taking a key when offered. When they finally get to their room, Michael is vibrating out of his skin, but he manages to restrain himself until Ashton has set down his bag and gotten a chance to look around the room.

"Think this'll be fine for the night?" he asks, sitting on the bed to test the mattress.

"I want to kiss you so bad," Michael replies.

"Then what the fuck are you doing over there?" Michael rolls his eyes, drops his bag and mini-Sheila, plops himself right in Ashton's lap, and kisses him. Ashton immediately opens up under him, hands sliding up Michael's back, and something inside Michael slides back into place. He buries his hands in Ashton's hair and tilts them to a better angle, relishing in the familiarity of Ashton's mouth, unable to contain a sound when Ashton tries to pull him a little bit closer.

Ashton breaks the kiss long before Michael is ready.

"We need to go to dinner," Ashton says. "I wanted to woo you. Wine and dine, except maybe without the wine because one of us has to drive."

"Come on, Ash, just a bit more." He leans in again, but Ashton stops him with a finger against his lips.

"If we keep going, we're not going to stop, and I'm hungry. Dinner first, then we'll have the whole night to ourselves."

"Fine," Michael sighs. "But only because I expect to make use of the night."

"I'm counting on it," Ashton says.

“And I’m driving.”

“Okay.”

Michael gets up, checking for his keys and wallet, but doesn’t get the door open before Ashton is turning him around and pushing him gently against it, kissing him again.

“You hypocrite,” Michael says.

“Come on, Michael, just a bit more,” he teases. Michael rolls his eyes even as he’s pulling him closer.

-/-

Dinner passes by in a flash. They tell the waitress it's Ashton's birthday so they can get a free dessert, and Michael ensures that she gives the check straight to him so Ashton doesn't try to fully pay for yet another thing on this trip. The food is pretty good and the atmosphere is nice, and Michael spends most of the meal laughing and trying to remember his table manners.

Ashton sings along to the radio on the way back to the hotel, and Michael considers taking a lap around the block to hear his singing voice a bit more. In the end, he turns into the parking lot so he can watch him rather than just hear him, waiting until the chorus finishes and Ashton manages to do a really nice vocal run before shutting the car off.

"What?" Ashton asks when he catches Michael's eye.

"Nothing," Michael says. "I just love you."

"Sap," Ashton says, poking the corner of Michael's smile.

When they get back to their room, Ashton starfishes on the bed, letting out a deep breath. Michael flops down on his stomach, head pillowed on Ashton's arm, fitting the rest of himself where there's room.

"Hey," Ashton says, tilting his head to look at Michael. "You tired?"

"Nah, not yet," Michael says. "I'm a night owl."

"Yeah, and I made you get up at a reasonable time to drive here for coffee."

Michael props himself up on his elbows, looking down at Ashton. His hair is a little bit longer than Michael remembers it being at the end of the school year, honey strands fanned out against the white hotel comforter. Michael hates that he wasn't around to witness the change in real time, slow enough that he wouldn't have been able to notice, but he's glad they get some time together now.

"I'm not tired," he says, basking in the way Ashton's smile unfurls at that. "I could stay up all night. I'm not going to waste our time together with a nap."

Ashton reaches up and brushes some of Michael's hair back, fingers curling around his ear and brushing over his neck. Michael shivers.

"I've missed you," Ashton says softly. Michael moves so he's bracketing him with his arms and leans down to kiss him. It's just as familiar and intoxicating as last time.

"I've missed you, too," he hums when they part. "Thank you for planning this."

"Thanks for agreeing to it," Ashton says, slipping a hand under the hem of Michael's shirt, hot on his lower back. "I was going crazy without seeing you. I don't know if you know this, but I'm kind of in love with you."

"Really?" Michael asks. "Never would've guessed."

Ashton sticks his tongue out, so Michael kisses him again, and again, and again, and doesn't stop for a long time.

-/-

Michael wakes up to Ashton shifting in his arms. He's going slow, obviously trying not to wake Michael while he untangles himself, and Michael presses a kiss to his shoulder before he can get too far away.

"Just going to the bathroom," Ashton whispers. Michael hums and releases him.

He slept better last night than he has since school let out. They spent the evening either kissing or watching HGTV and talking about the features they want in their dream house when Michael makes it big as a producer and Ashton is a best-selling author. By the time they finally fell asleep it was into the early morning, Ashton's eyelids drooping, both of them pressed together skin to skin under the covers.

Ashton returns, pressing a kiss to Michael's cheekbone as he gets resettled.

"What time is it?" Michael asks blearily. He cracks his eyes open, happy to see Ashton in all his early morning glory, edges softened by the shadows from the curtains.

"Almost ten," Ashton says. "I got us a late check out, so we're okay for a few more hours."

"Smart."

"That's me," Ashton says. "Graduated Summa Cum Laude and everything."

Michael pushes him halfheartedly. It doesn't do anything except make Ashton roll further into his space. Michael doesn't mind, hooking a leg around his hip to keep him there.

"Oh, good morning," Ashton says. "Nice to see you, too."

"Shut up," Michael groans.

"Make me."

Michael can't back down from a challenge, and he has a lot of tricks up his sleeve when it comes to his boyfriend. He gets Ashton to shut up quickly, and Michael has the best morning since school let out.

-/-

Michael and Ashton elongate their day as much as possible, but there's only so much to do after they have to check out. They take a walk around the local park and find an art gallery to wander around in. Neither of them are particularly versed in visual art, but Michael likes pretending that they both know more than they do, commenting on lighting and colors and lines in a way that would probably annoy everyone around them if the exhibit was in any way crowded. Ashton finds a painting that he says should be the focal point of their future parlor in their mansion. Michael thinks it's super ugly, but he takes a picture of the name card anyway.

They probably won't have enough money for an art piece like that for a while given student loans and such, but maybe they will at some point, and maybe the artist will have something that they both like that could go in a modest living room in an apartment.

They eat dinner late and stay there chatting long after they've finished, ankles hooked under the table. Michael orders dessert just so they have an excuse to continue filling seats. Ashton gets chocolate sauce on his face and Michael tells him about it instead of wiping it off for him. When they finally split the check, Michael feels like he's splitting himself in half. Maybe things would be better that way. If he were in two halves, he could go back to school and go with Ashton at the same time.

"College sucks," Michael says once they get outside, lingering by their cars. "I don't want to go back."

"Run away with me," Ashton says. "You can be a starving artist and I'll be your boyfriend who sometimes puts food on the table."

"I wish," Michael says, rocking forward on his feet. "I think my parents would kill me. Besides, I have a project with the recording studio that I should probably see through. The band's not bad. It could actually turn into something."

"I hope it does," Ashton says. "Tell me when it's released."

"I will."

They descend into silence, neither of them wanting to say what comes next. Michael scuffs his toe against the pavement and wonders if it's too late to take those words back and run away together.

"Did you have fun?" Ashton asks eventually. "Was the weekend okay?"

"It was amazing, Ashton. It honestly was probably one of the best weekends of my life."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Michael grabs his hands. Ashton immediately brushes his thumb over the promise ring, and Michael hopes he keeps doing that long after the promise ring has switched to a wedding band. "I spent it with my favorite person. What's not to love?"

Ashton kisses him.

"I love you," he says.

"I know," Michael replies.

"Nerd."

Michael smiles and kisses him again.

"I love you, too," he says. "I'm going to miss you a lot."

"I'm only a few hours away," Ashton says. "I'll visit you and make you visit me. Besides, it'll be better with Calum and Luke there again."

"Yeah."

"Cheer up, buttercup. You just had an awesome weekend."

"Yeah," he repeats, squaring his shoulders. "You're right."

"Of course I am."

Michael rolls his eyes and kisses him one last time. When he drives away it still hurts, but not as much as it could.

Calum is unpacking when Michael gets in, and they stay up late catching up. He doesn't check his phone again until he goes to bed.

Ashton tagged him in an Instagram post. It's full of pictures from the weekend: Michael smiling with the Dippin' Dots, them at dinner, a selfie of them in the hotel room, mini-Sheila, and a few more secret shots he took. It's a perfect summary of the two of them, a combination of silly and sweet that makes Michael's chest feel funny. He loves him so much he might burst with it.

The caption is simply someday every day will be like this. Michael falls asleep dreaming of ugly art in their own apartment and waking up to Ashton every morning.

#my writing #mashton #college mashton #5sos fic #mmmm i love zoos and watching hgtv #lily #captain-bisexual

[buirbaby]

The Wardens: Death Is A Cruel Mistress

Summary:  Tabitha's time had run out on Earth, consumed by flames. When she wakes up in her new hell, she discovers that not only is it cold, but it's a hell of an entirely different meaning. She is in Westeros, with the knowledge to change the tides of future, but without the ability to speak it aloud. Tabitha must carve her path without fame, fortune, or noble titles in order to save characters from their deaths. All she has is a sword in her hand and the ability to warg.

Rating: M+ Mature themes, language, and violence

Masterlist | Next

The end of the work day was like any other. Tabitha was misting a few plants in the lowlight of the fading afternoon as evening encroached on her small storefront. Jingling jovially, the door tinkled open with just five minutes to spare on the clock before she'd lock it. Lifting her head, her fingers listed up toward her glasses to see who had entered. Originally, she had believed it to be a customer in search of a last minute plant or clippings she sometimes arranged into floral bouquets. However, rather than a customer, her stomach dropped to the floor at the cursed visage of a man in a finely pressed suit.

He wasn't there for a plant, she knew this. Just as she knew many others that had been harassing her and a few other remaining shops on Main Street. A new development wanted to take control of this block and turn it into an impressive condo complex on the rustic street that garnered attention from tourists and locals alike. Wiping her hands off on her apron, which was dusted with dirt and pearlite, Tabitha cleared her throat and approached. If he thought there'd be a mousy garden shop owner, he was sorely mistaken. Tabitha's family had own this storefront for generations and she wasn't about to hand it over, not when she'd fixed it up with her own blood, sweat, and tears. She was a successful business woman, the shop was in stellar condition and thriving despite the pause in society due to COVID.

"Can I help you?" she asked sharply, coming around the polished wooden counter to assert her place.

"Yes, is the owner or manager in?"

The fated question, one that made her blood boil each time the casual, yet scathing glance was set over her, as if a woman in her late twenties couldn't be said person. It happened yet again and Tabitha forced herself not to snort in indignation. "I am her," she replied evenly.

"Wonderful," the man drawled, withdrawing a manila folder from underneath his arm. "As you're likely aware, my company is purchasing property in the vicinity. There are a few stores, this one included, that are refusing to sell. I've come with an offer-" he opened the folder, images of the supposed development and work ushered beneath a contract and a hefty sum with quite a few zeroes.

"Then you would be aware that I, like the other few businesses, are still refusing to sell. Listen, this street prides itself on historical shops and architecture. I know that we're prime water view property, but I'm not selling, and I know for certain that my fellow business owners are just as adamant in our position. I don't need the money," Tabitha didn't touch the paper. He could have added more zeroes and she wouldn't have cared. This was principle, her family's lineage, and she wouldn't be a sell out.

"Please, these prices are negotiable. My company is really eager to develop here and keep to the charming architecture on the street. Won't you consider it? You could always reopen in a much larger shop down the road," the man suggested.

"It wouldn't be on Main Street," Tabitha pointed out. "Look, sir, I've got nothing against you, but I don't appreciate being badgered to sell. I will never sell. Your company should either take what they've got or look elsewhere. Now please, I'm just about to close."

"Nothing is going to change your mind, miss?"

"Nothing," Tabitha assured him, closing the folder and sliding it back over toward him.

Escorting the man to the door, he paused to glance at the fire alarm posted near the entrance. It was a bit old, but the pipes had been updated within the last decade. "Old system here," he commented.

"The shop is as humid as a rainforest, I'm not too worried," Tabitha shrugged, opening the door. Perhaps she should have thought about the oddness of the comment more, but she didn't. A lot of things in the shop were old, considering how long the building had been standing. She had put a lot of money into reinforcing the structure and replacing the old with new so that the beautiful piece of history could be continuously preserved. Shutting the door behind him, she locked the glass door and flipped the sign over to ‘closed’.

There were a few chores to finish up around the shop, to include changing out bug sticky tape and sweeping up dirt. After balancing the register, she locked up the cash, and shut the lights off. Through the back of the store, there was a locked door that led to a staircase, revealing a set of stairs that ascended into her apartment that was situated above the shop.

Her head ached, them pestering at least twice a week to sell her home and livelihood just to relocate. That wasn't it. Aside from the principle of it all, she would also have to find a house and a new store. Who knew if she'd be able to buy it outright or what she'd be getting. Then the stress of moving alongside of wondering if her typical clients would follow her elsewhere. No, it was too much and she wouldn't do it, even if she was the last one on the frontier against this condo company. Maybe if she had some family to help her she would've grudgingly considered it, but already she was spread thin between all her work.

A loud meow greeted her as she pushed open the door to her flat and she smiled, the tension of the day slipping away as a fluffy black cat stood on the arm of her couch and beckoned with his tail to be given attention. Letting out another shouting protest, Tabitha chuckled and brushed her palm over the feline's head, the long hair cat pressing into her hand as she raked down his spine. "I know, I know, I kept you up here all day. I'm sorry Balerion. Bad cat mommy," she hung her smock up and bent down to pick the fluffy monster up, the baby curling into her arms like a babe as he mewed in content. "But you know I'm going to make it up to you. Tomorrow we're going on another trip, aren't we? Hollis is gonna take care of the shop while we're gone."

The plan was to head up to Iceland for the hike and climbing trip that Tabitha had been saving for for years. Balerion was her partner on all escapades, a willing participant in hikes and her little buddy even in rockclimbing as he'd be situated in a special backpack where he'd be fully strapped in. Already the feline had been with her to the Amazon, Alaska and Denali, Scotland, the Azores, and Hawaii. He seemed to love the adventure, which was uncommon for cats, especially given the strenuous conditions they were sometimes subjected to. However, even if Tabitha was miserable, Balerion was always kept warm, dry, and safe. She had friends, but Balerion was her soul mate.

"Let's go through our packing list one more time, we don't want to forget anything," she said, reminding herself more than him as she brought him into the bedroom and plopped him down onto the bed. Balerion flopped down, hanging his meaty paws over the edge as she opened her suitcase and hiking pack to double check the supplies. "Now it'll be summer there, so lots of hours of sunlight, but still quite mild. Want to make certain we're warm enough at night. Shouldn't be as bad as Denali though."

After checking the list thrice more and comparing it to what she had laid out, Tabitha decided that the two of them were ready for the journey tomorrow. Dinner was simple to prevent much to clean before the two of them settled in for the evening, a book on her lap as she re-read through one of her favorite series: A Song of Ice and Fire . The place where she'd gotten Balerion's name from. She barely managed more than a chapter, too excited to board the plane at the crack of dawn to Iceland with her furry companion.

Tugging the blanket up, Balerion curled up by her side, Tabitha set her alarm on her phone and tried to get some shut eye. It was difficult at first, the anticipation clawing at her, but eventually she slipped away from reality. Cascading into a dreamless sleep, she was awoken by the worried yowl of her cat, which roused her. Eyes burning, Tabitha turned over in an attempt to grab her phone to check the time. It wasn't often that Balerion made such an awful noise. Usually when he wasn't feeling well and was going to vomit. However, as she turned on the night lamp, she noticed a thick haze permeating the room. Balerion was no longer beside her, but she could hear his crying, loud and insistent.

Smoke. It was smoke.

"Balerion?" The moment she opened her mouth, she drew in a copious amount of smoke and choked on it. Sputtering, she rolled off the bed and crawled, looking for her pet. "Bale, come here baby. Come here!"

She didn't hear the fire alarms going off. If there was any sort of fire, the alarms should have been ringing. Ducking underneath the bed, she found him cowering in the corner, reaching beneath to drag him out toward her. Fire escape. There wasn't time to think about what had caused the fire, nor where it had originated. Her mind was fully in survival mode. This was the second floor and the ceilings were quite high, her best hope would be utilizing the escape to get as close to the ground as she could before dropping down.

Tabitha made it to the window where the escape was, standing up enough to try and glimpse outside, but was horrified by what she found. There was a glass pane to look through, but a curtain of fire as the flames had consumed the exterior of the structure first. She had replaced a good portion of the interior, but the outside was still the same old shingles. Wherever the fire might have started, it had lanced up around the outside, beginning to eat in through the roof before billeting up through the flooring of her apartment. It was possible that the wet atmosphere of her shop cocooned the apartment temporarily, but in the meanwhile the rest of the older parts of the structure went alight.

Panic consumed her as Tabitha dropped back down to the ground and hoped that maybe the nearby fire department would get inside before either of them perished. Keep low to the ground, try not to breathe in the smoke.

Crawling away from the window and doorway, Tabitha slid next to her bookcase, glancing over at the picture frames and the years of her early twenties depicted in photos of her when she'd left the confines of her small town home to embark on a journey in the military. Those years, while she'd complained a lot about them, had helped put a backbone in her and set up a foundation for schooling and regiment. She still enjoyed rucking-or backpacking as the civilians called it, never quite trading in her boots in.

Her eyes fluttered, a soft hoarse cough parting her lips again as Balerion's yowling quieted and she felt exhausted. Perhaps she could hear the fire trucks in the distance, perhaps she couldn't. Tabitha's eyes shut to the sound of a formation marching and a cadence being called.

#game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones fanfic #a song of ice and fire fanfic #asoiaf fanfiction #asoiaf fanfic #reincarnation insert #freeform #added lore #the ability to change the future but with a twist #romance is not the main theme #BAMF female OC #buirbaby writes #The Wardens

[newstfionline]

Monday, January 25, 2021

Americans remain sorely divided as Biden’s quest for unity begins (Washington Post) The other day, Stu Ross, a retired elementary school teacher, threw his neighbor out of his townhouse in Harrisburg, Pa. The guy had said he saw nothing wrong with the attack on the U.S. Capitol. The two haven’t spoken since. So when Ross heard President Joe Biden’s Inauguration Day appeal for a lowered temperature, for unity, he wasn’t seeing a realistic path to that goal. Ross called the new president’s first speech “soothing and calm.” But unity? Normalcy? A return to how things used to be, to Biden’s idea that “politics doesn’t have to be a raging fire?” Come on. At the dawn of an administration that seeks to return to a less fractious, even boring, politics, many Americans grant that Biden’s quest for a quieter culture is a nice enough goal, but, from the left and right, many say the country’s divisions remain too deep to allow for such a shift. In Topeka, Kan., Ed Myers has no patience for the debate over whether to hold Donald Trump to account for his role in inciting the attempted insurrection at the Capitol. A retired farm equipment factory worker, Myers says he was suspended by Twitter after he wrote that Biden is “an illegitimate president.” The way Myers sees it: That puts him in the same boat as Trump, whose Twitter account was banned for “incitement of violence,” which Myers views as a move to stifle free speech. So no, Myers sees no reason to unify, no cause to rally around the new president to combat the virus and revive the economy.

Barred From U.S. Under Trump, Muslims Exult in Biden’s Open Door (NYT) As the results of the American presidential election rolled in on Nov. 4, a young Sudanese couple sat up through the night in their small town south of Khartoum, eyes glued to the television as state tallies were declared, watching anxiously. They had a lot riding on the outcome. A year earlier, Monzir Hashim had won the State Department’s annual lottery to obtain a green card for the United States only to learn that President Trump, in his latest iteration of the “Muslim ban,” had barred Sudanese citizens from immigrating to the United States. The election seemed to offer a second chance, and when Mr. Trump was eventually declared to have lost the vote, Mr. Hashim and his wife, Alaa Jamal, hugged with joy. Few foreigners welcomed Mr. Biden’s election victory as enthusiastically as the tens of thousands of Muslims who have been locked out of the United States for the past four years as a result of the Trump-era immigration restrictions popularly known as the “Muslim ban.” By one count, 42,000 people were prevented from entering the United States from 2017 to 2019, mostly from Muslim-majority nations like Iran, Somalia, Yemen and Syria. But the human cost of Mr. Trump’s measures, stitched into the fabric of disrupted lives stained with tears and even blood, can hardly be counted—families separated for years; weddings and funerals missed; careers and study plans upended; lifesaving operations that did not take place.

A Digital Dragnet Is Coming For The U.S. Capitol Insurrectionists (HuffPost) The insurrectionists might have been able to leave without being arrested. Their friends and family members may not have turned them in. But slowly but surely, the digital surveillance net is tightening on the supporters of former President Donald Trump who stormed the U.S. Capitol on Jan. 6. Most of the cases being unveiled by federal authorities are still originating with tips from the public, and there are hundreds of future defendants who have yet to be identified and charged. But a few of the criminal charges appear to be built on wider-spanning search warrants to social media companies that appear to have given federal authorities investigative leads they’ve used to identify lawbreakers. The cellphones that the Capitol insurrectionists carried with them when they tried to overturn the results of the presidential election through force were feeding information to a variety of tech companies that now hold incriminating information about their users’ violations of the law. “We’re all carrying tiny tracking devices with us all the time, and people aren’t necessarily conscious of the extent to which that information is obtainable from a variety of sources,” said Julian Sanchez, a senior fellow at Cato and an expert on technology, privacy and civil liberties.

Mexican president Lopez Obrador tests positive for COVID-19 (AP) Mexican President Andres Manuel Lopez Obrador said on Sunday he had tested positive for COVID-19, amid an intense second wave of the coronavirus pandemic that has pushed the health system of the country’s vast capital city close to saturation. The 67-year-old president said in a tweet that his symptoms were light and he was receiving medical treatment. Lopez Obrador has maintained a busy public schedule during the pandemic and has said he enjoys good health, after suffering a serious heart attack at the age of 60 in 2013.

Spain’s virus surge hits mental health of front-line workers (AP) The unrelenting increase in COVID-19 infections in Spain following the holiday season is again straining hospitals, threatening the mental health of doctors and nurses who have been at the forefront of the pandemic for nearly a year. A study released this month by Hospital del Mar looking at the impact of the spring’s COVID-19 surge on more than 9,000 health workers across Spain found that at least 28% suffered major depression. That is six times higher than the rate in the general population before the pandemic, said Dr. Jordi Alonso, one of the chief researchers. In addition, the study found that nearly half of participants had a high risk of anxiety, post-traumatic stress disorder, panic attacks or substance- and alcohol-abuse problems. Spanish health care workers are far from the only ones to have suffered psychologically from the pandemic. In China, the levels of mental disorders among doctors and nurses were even higher, with 50% reporting depression, 45% reporting anxiety and 34% reporting insomnia, according to the World Health Organization. In the U.K., a survey released last week by the Royal College of Physicians found that 64% of doctors reported feeling tired or exhausted. One in four sought out mental health support. “It is pretty awful at the moment in the world of medicine,” Dr. Andrew Goddard, president of the Royal College of Physicians, said in a statement accompanying the study. “Hospital admissions are at the highest-ever level, staff are exhausted, and although there is light at the end of the tunnel, that light seems a long way away.”

French Roosters Now Crow With the Law Behind Them (NYT) The crow of a rooster and the ringing of a church bell at dawn. The rumble of a tractor and the smell of manure wafting from a nearby stable. The deafening song of cicadas or the discordant croaking of frogs. Quacking ducks, bleating sheep and braying donkeys. Perennial rural sounds and smells such as these were given protection by French law last week, when lawmakers passed a bill to preserve “the sensory heritage of the countryside,” after a series of widely publicized neighborhood spats in France’s rural corners, many of them involving noisy animals. The disputes symbolized tensions between urban newcomers and longtime country dwellers, frictions that have only grown as the coronavirus pandemic and a string of lockdowns draw new residents to the countryside. Perhaps the most prominent of these noisy animals was Maurice, a rooster in Saint-Pierre-d’Oléron, a town on an island off France’s western coast. His owner had been sued by neighbors—regular vacationers in the area—because he crowed too loudly. Politicians and thousands of petitioners rushed to the Gallic rooster’s defense, and a court eventually ruled in 2019 that Maurice, who died last summer at the age of six, was well within his rights. It is too late for Maurice. But his successor, Maurice II, can now crow with the full-throated confidence of someone who has the law on their side.

Davos ski resort eerily quiet without economic talkfest this year (Reuters) Student protesters who urged world leaders at the 2020 World Economic Forum in Davos to “Stop (f)lying to us” must be pleased this year, at least as far as the flying is concerned. The streets of the little Alpine town that welcomed around 3,000 business chiefs, political thinkers and state leaders for last year’s annual meeting lie deserted. Discussions have moved online, starting Monday, and COVID-19 restrictions are also keeping regular tourists away. “Look around, it’s empty. Normally, all hotels would be fully booked at this time,” Reto Branschi, head of Davos Klosters tourism, told Reuters in an interview this week. There are no helicopters patrolling the skies, no protesters trying to outwit security forces sealing off the Alpine resort. But not everybody is sad about the lack of buzz. “Complete peace and quiet,” a local woman wearing a mask said. “I don’t miss it at all.”

Trapped for 2 weeks, 11 workers rescued from China gold mine (AP) Eleven workers trapped for two weeks inside a Chinese gold mine were brought safely to the surface on Sunday, a landmark achievement for an industry long-blighted by disasters and high death tolls. Hundreds of rescue workers and officials stood at attention and applauded as the workers were brought up from the mine in Qixia, a jurisdiction under Yantai in the eastern coastal province of Shandong. The cause of the accident is under investigation but the explosion was large enough to release 70 tons of debris that blocked the shaft, disabling elevators and trapping workers underground. Such protracted and expensive rescue efforts are relatively new in China’s mining industry, which used to average 5,000 deaths per year. Increased supervision has improved safety, although demand for coal and precious metals continues to prompt corner-cutting. A new crackdown was ordered after two accidents in mountainous southwestern Chongqing last year killed 39 miners.

U.S. carrier group enters South China Sea amid Taiwan tensions (Reuters) A U.S. aircraft carrier group led by the USS Theodore Roosevelt has entered the South China Sea to promote “freedom of the seas”, the U.S. military said on Sunday, at a time when tensions between China and Taiwan have raised concern in Washington. U.S. Indo-Pacific Command said in a statement the strike group entered the South China Sea on Saturday, the same day Taiwan reported a large incursion of Chinese bombers and fighter jets into its air defence identification zone in the vicinity of the Pratas Islands. The U.S. military said the carrier strike group was in the South China Sea, a large part of which is claimed by China, to conduct routine operations “to ensure freedom of the seas, build partnerships that foster maritime security”. China has repeatedly complained about U.S. Navy ships getting close to Chinese-occupied islands in the South China Sea, where Vietnam, Malaysia, the Philippines, Brunei and Taiwan all have competing claims.

Israel targets flights, religious scofflaws, as virus rages (AP) Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu on Sunday said Israel will be closing its international airport to nearly all flights, while Israeli police clashed with ultra-Orthodox protesters in several major cities and the government raced to bring a raging coronavirus outbreak under control. The entry of highly contagious variants of the virus, coupled with poor enforcement of safety rules in ultra-Orthodox communities, has contributed to one of the world’s highest rates of infections. Experts say that a lack of compliance with safety regulations in Israel’s ultra-Orthodox sector has been a major factor in the spread of the virus. Throughout the pandemic, many major ultra-Orthodox sects have flouted safety regulations, continuing to open schools, pray in synagogues and hold mass weddings and funerals despite broader lockdown orders. This has contributed to a disproportionate infection rate: The ultra-Orthodox community accounts for over one-third of Israel’s coronavirus cases, despite making up just over 10% of the population.

Arab Spring exiles look back 10 years after Egypt uprising (AP) The Egyptians who took to the streets on Jan. 25, 2011, knew what they were doing. They knew they risked arrest and worse. But as their numbers swelled in Cairo’s central Tahrir Square, they tasted success. Police forces backed off, and within days, former President Hosni Mubarak agreed to demands to step down. But events didn’t turn out the way many of the protesters envisioned. A decade later, thousands are estimated to have fled abroad to escape the government of President Abdel Fattah el-Sissi that is considered even more oppressive. The significant loss of academics, artists, journalists and other intellectuals has, along with a climate of fear, hobbled any political opposition. Human Rights Watch estimated in 2019 that there were 60,000 political prisoners in Egypt. The Committee to Protect Journalists ranks Egypt third, behind China and Turkey, in detaining journalists. El-Sissi maintains Egypt has no political prisoners. The arrest of a journalist or a rights worker makes news roughly every month. Many people have been imprisoned on terrorism charges, for breaking a ban on protests or for disseminating false news. Others remain in indefinite pretrial detentions.

Severe winds wreck homes, displace thousands in Mozambique (Reuters) Severe winds and heavy rains wrecked thousands of buildings, ruined crops and displaced almost 7,000 people in Mozambique over the weekend, officials said in their first detailed report on the disaster. Tropical cyclone Eloise hit Mozambique’s Sofala coastal province on Saturday morning before weakening and heading inland to dump rain on Zimbabwe, eSwatini—formerly known as Swaziland—and South Africa. The region’s Buzi district had been particularly hard hit with wind speeds of up to 150 kph.

Raising kids bilingual can make them more attentive and efficient as adults (CNBC) Adults who grew up speaking two different languages can shift their attention between different tasks quicker than those who pick up a second language later in life, according to a new study. This is just one of many cognitive benefits of being bilingual. Research has shown that bilingual kids are constantly switching between two languages in their brain, which increases “cognitive flexibility,” the ability to switch between thinking about different concepts or multiple concepts at once, and “selective attention abilities,” the mental process of focusing on one task or object at a time. Other studies have shown that bilingual children can complete mental puzzles quicker and more efficiently than those who only speak one language. The reason? Speaking two languages requires “executive functioning,” which are higher-level cognitive skills like planning, decision making, problem solving and organization. Basically, this task is a workout for the brain. The mental benefits of starting a new language early appear to last even as children grow into adulthood.

#headlines #news

[expatimes]

NCAA slammed for inequality between men’s and women’s facilities

The NCAA March Madness men's basketball tournament every year draws millions of viewers [File: Jamie Rhodes/USA Today Sports

The association that oversees college sports in the United States has faced widespread criticism after a video shared on social media showed considerable disparities between the men’s and women’s weight rooms at their respective Division I basketball tournaments.

Oregon Ducks’ Forward Sedona Prince shared a video on TikTok and Twitter from the National Collegiate Athletic Association’s (NCAA) March Madness tournament facilities.

“So for the NCAA March Madness, the biggest tournament for college basketball for women, this is our weight room,” said Prince, pointing to a single stack of a dozen low-weight dumbbells.

She then shared images of a sprawling men’s weight room, complete with several squat racks.

“If you aren’t upset about this problem, then you’re a part of it,” Prince said.

Let me put it on Twitter too cause this needs the attention pic.twitter.com/t0DWKL2YHR

— Sedona Prince (@sedonaprince_) March 19, 2021

The NCAA addressed the concerns in a news briefing on Friday, saying it “fell short” in preparing to welcome 64 teams to the women’s tournament, which is being held in San Antonio, Texas, this year amid limits on travel due to COVID-19.

“As a former women’s basketball student-athlete, it’s always been my priority to make this event the best possible experience for everyone involved,” Lynn Holzman, NCAA vice president for women’s basketball.

Holzman had originally told Washington Post reporter Molly Hensley-Clancy in a statement that “limited space” was the reason for the disparities, “and the original plan was to expand the workout area once additional space was available later in the tournament”.

In a statement on Friday, the NCAA said Holzman had spoken to team coaches and staff members about how to “readjust available square footage” in San Antonio to provide more training opportunities.

The NCAA tweeted a photo of an upgraded women’s weight room on Saturday.

The weight room has arrived!

Let’s gooooo#ncaaW pic.twitter.com/s9w6sdZ5P8

— NCAA Women’s Basketball (@ncaawbb) March 20, 2021

  “I apologise to women’s basketball student-athletes, coaches and the women’s basketball committee for dropping the ball on the weight rooms in San Antonio,” NCAA Senior Vice President of Basketball Dan Gavitt said in the statement on Friday.

But athletes, coaches and others in the sports world have continued to raise questions about what the episode says about the resources allocated to male and female athletes, calling on the NCAA to learn from the criticism.

“That ncaa bubble weight room situation is beyond disrespectful,” A’ja Wilson of the WNBA’s Las Vegas Aces said on Twitter. All-star NBA Point Guard Steph Curry of the Golden State Warriors tweeted: “wow-come on now!”

Dawn Staley, one of the most accomplished athletes in US basketball history and the current head coach of the University of South Carolina women’s team, called on the NCAA to address “the overarching issues that exist in our sport”.

“Every team here in San Antonio has earned and deserves at a minimum the same level of respect as the men. All the teams here deal with the same issues as the men’s teams this season; yet their ‘reward’ is different,” Staley said in a statement shared on Twitter.

#WHATMATTERS pic.twitter.com/QTQzCwbnZT

— dawnstaley (@dawnstaley) March 20, 2021

  “Women’s basketball is a popular sport whose stock and presence continues to rise on a global level. It is sad that the NCAA is not willing to recognize and invest in our growth despite its claims of togetherness and equality,” she said.

The NCAA’s Division I men’s basketball tournament every year draws millions of viewers and makes the NCAA billions of dollars. Yahoo! Finance reported last year that March Madness brings in $933m in advertisement revenue alone.

But while women’s basketball is growing in popularity, “it is still mostly an afterthought in the NCAA’s overall picture”, the Wall Street Journal reported this week.

Read full article: https://expatimes.com/?p=19263&feed_id=38700

#Basketball #facilities #Inequality #mens #NCAA #News #slammed #Sports #UnitedStates #USCanada #Women #womens

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

With people having received information about rescheduling of Louis’ winter dates in Europe to August/Sept via the ticket sellers and/or venues, I’m wondering when they’ll be an official announcement. Maybe they haven’t confirmed all dates so they want to have all their ducks in a row.

August/September still feels very uncertain to me, I’d love for it to be a reality though. I’d assume if everything went forward, NA for Louis would be in autumn and then SA in 2022? I don’t know where Harry will be putting his European dates other than in 2022 if he reschedules them. That’s if NA goes forward as planned for him.

I don’t know if June is doable for Louis for his Australian dates. I know they are doing much better with COVID than NA and Europe. Harry doesn’t have new dates for Aus/Asia if I remember correctly, only postponement (They don’t appear on his website from what I saw).

What kind of calendar do you think we’d be looking at?

It's all guessing obviously anon. 

A lot will depend on how the vaccines work and the ability of health systems to deliver the vaccine. (It may all be a false dawn, although obviously I'm hoping it's not). 

 In order for touring to happen in the clusterfuck countries (basically Europe and the Americas) the touring party will need to be able to be vaccinated, and mass gatherings will need to be allowed. But that will be on tour leg wide basis - so it's not like if some governor is making a terrible decision in the US that that date will happen. 

 A huge unanswered question is that is whether vaccines protect people from the virus or just the disease. So far most of the evidence is that it protects people from getting really sick. The studies weren't designed to see if people were getting the virus asymptomatically. The other big question is how long will the immunity granted by the virus last. 

So the question is what conditions of vaccines will mean government's will feel safe allowing mass gatherings? If a vaccine stops a virus, then once you've vaccined 60% of people then it doesn't circulate nearly as easily - the longed for herd immunity. But it'll be a challenge to get that many people vaccinated, and to know whether the vaccine works that way. 

I don't think they'll wait for that level of vaccination to open up. If instead of stopping the virus, they're just trying to make it less deadly, and ensure it doesn't overun the health system, then you can do it on a lot less than 60% of the population. If the vaccines do work, even if they just protect from disease, then my guess is you just need to vaccinate everyone over the age of 65 and the clincally vulnerable, before you can open things up again. 

Which is all a longwinded saying that - given what's riding on it - I think even the most failed richer states (ie UK and US) should be able to vaccinate those portions of their pouplation by August. In which case, I think mass gatherings would be allowed. For poorer states, the question of the costs really matter - and here it will matter if some of the vaccines that don't need to be kept at extremely low temperatures are shown to be effective). 

 The situation is a little bit different in Australia. There it will really matter if the vaccine protects from the virus or the disease. They've eliminated COVID and will be living a reasonably normal life over summer, all going well (New Zealand also elimianted COVID and has been running gigs for most of the year). At the moment, in order to get into NZ or Australia you need to spend two weeks in managed isolation - a government run hotel where you can't leave your room - before you can enter the country (I'm going to be doing it in 6 weeks time - so expect even more anon answering than usual). There are also heavy restrictions on who can enter the country, because there is so much demand. 

NZ has been allowing some international acts in, but I think both time and money wise it's just not going to be feasible for either of them to come if they need to do two weeks in managed isolation. So the question for those dates will be - has one of the vaccines been proven to protect people from the virus not just the disease. Then the touring party could enter the country as long as they were vaccinated.  The question (which I don't know the answer to) is when will it be feasible to know that a vaccine protects people from the virus? 

 So having spelled out all my assumptions - I'll try to answer your question. 

 I think August should be doable for Europe. Obviously it might all go wrong, but I at this case you have to plan for things going right. I would expect that if Louis began his tour in June and then did UK and Europe in August and September, and then North and South America in October and November, he'd be finished by the end of the year. 

 With Harry I would expect him to start with the North American dates already announced in August (which is more of a gamble than Europe I think, but it's still seven months after inauguration - which will at least remove an obstacle). It would then make sense to do one more leg that year in November, either South America (more likely I'd think) or Asia-Pacific (he's not announced any Asian dates yet, but I assume they were planned). I agree he'd have to put his Europe leg into 2022, probably pretty much where they are now, but a year later. Then Asia Pacific after that - I'd imagine he'd try to be done by the end of April. (There is a question of whether Columbia will get antsy and want him to do more being a celebrity stuff than tour usually allows, but I think there are a lot of unknowns about hte post-covid music and celebrity landscape - so I won't even try to guess). 

 Those are my guesses, what do other people think?

#And would Louis add an Auckland date back in #if he was just doing a few dates in June #I supsect not #because his first date didn't sell out #but lets hoping lots of NZers #watched the livestream #I still don't know if I have a job in the UK #come April #so I may never use my tickets to either tour #Anonymous

[racingtoaredlight]

RTARL’s 2020 NFL Season Week 7 Extravapalooza

With the way the COVID-19 situation in America (and lots of other places around the world) is rapidly heading in the wrong direction, I’m beginning to genuinely wonder if the NFL is going to have to pause the season for a few weeks as some states potentially decide that the gatherings that come with staging a football game are less than necessary. 

Once the league decided to start the season as scheduled, I figured there was no way they’d stop the train once it began lurching forward, even if some unlucky teams were forced to start someone like Brian Hoyer at QB instead of their normal guy. Ahem. But, I also didn’t think things would deteriorate virus-spread wise quite to this degree. I was really giving us as a society way too much credit, it would appear. Given the resistance to the first round of shutdown measures, I think there’s a real possibility that shit could hit the fan in a way few of us have seen before if another batch were implemented, but it seems like the only option going forward for some places if they don’t get their shit together. Our choices in the very near future appear to be: court massive civil unrest spurred on by the very worst among us, or do nothing and let many of those same people carry disease to every corner of the country as hospitals become overwhelmed and people die alone and miserable. Hooray for letting the dumbest assholes dictate the courses of everyone else’s lives. 

Now for some football picks!!!

My picks are in BOLD, and the lines come to us courtesy of our friends at Vegas Insider. I use the “VI Consensus” line, which is the line that occurs most frequently across Vegas Insider’s list of sportsbooks. Your sportsbook of choice may offer a different number, and if you’d like my opinion on said number A) you are insane, and B) leave a comment below and I’ll try to answer at some point before things kickoff today.

EARLY GAMES

Detroit Lions at Atlanta Falcons (-2)

Ah, a team who recently fired their terrible head coach against a team who desperately needs to. I’m glad it finally appears to be dawning on Detroit’s offensive braintrust that D’Andre Swift is the best RB on the team and thus should get the bulk of the touches. You could even say he deserves the LION’S SHARE. Sorry. 

I was ready to declare Matt Ryan officially washed heading into last week’s games, but then he went out and threw for 371 and 4 TDs against the (admittedly trash-ass) Vikings defense, and now I just don’t know. Does having Julio Jones in the lineup really make that much of a difference for him? Maybe! This game should be enjoyable slop and I don’t have any strong leanings one way or another. I’ll pick the Falcons just because a Lions loss gets them one step closer to freedom from their dipshit Goomba-from-Mario-Bros-lookin’ motherfucker of a head coach.

Cleveland Browns (-3.5) at Cincinnati Bengals

I like to make fun of the Browns just like everyone else, but I’d prefer to see less digital ink spilled on QB Baker Mayfield’s crappy play and more celebration of DE Myles Garrett instead. Garrett is AWESOME. Through 6 games he has 7 sacks (2nd in the NFL) and 3 forced fumbles (also 2nd in the league), and those numbers don’t fully capture how disruptive and nightmarish he is for opposing offenses most weeks. Sure, he maybe tried to kill a guy with his helmet last year, but c’mon. That was just a harmless little goof. No reason to hold it against him, in my opinion. Like, have you seen what Mason Rudolph looks like? He had it coming.

I feel bad every time I pick against Joe Burrow because I want he and I to be friends, but *points to previous paragraph about how Myles Garrett swallows planets whole*.

Pittsburgh Steelers at Tennessee Titans (-1.5)

Last week I wrote a whole big thing (with stats to back it up!) in the Titans blurb about how Derrick Henry wasn’t playing well and was potentially wearing down, and then he proceeded to rush for over 200 yards and 2 TDs, including an unreal 94-yarder. I concede that I may have been misguided, and that attempting to use research is for lameass nerds. That said, I HIGHLY doubt he’ll have a huge day against the Steelers defense, but the combo of Henry and the Ryan Tannehill-led passing game should be able to put up enough points to win. 

These teams are both very good and very evenly matched, but I don’t want to pick Pittsburgh because I actively dislike them. You won’t find that kind of analysis on Football Outsiders, friends.

Carolina Panthers at New Orleans Saints (-7)

New Orleans will be without WRs Michael Thomas and Emmanuel Sanders for this one, and I think QB Drew Brees is too far over-the-hill to make chicken salad out of the chicken shit that remains in their group of pass catchers. RB Alvin Kamara is great, but he can’t do it by himself. Oh, and speaking of Michael Thomas, a report came out yesterday that the Saints are open to dealing him. This report came from Mike Florio, so grain of salt and all, but it did lead to me reading a rumor that Thomas’ teammates hate him and secretly call him “Can’t Stand Mike,” a play on his “Can’t Guard Mike” Twitter handle. I found this hilarious and very much want it to be true.

Let’s raise a glass to Panthers backup RB and fantasy football savior Mike Davis, as his gravy train likely comes to a halt after today with the impending return of Christian McCaffery. The New Orleans rush defense is very good, so I don’t see him going out in a blaze of glory, but his out-of-nowhere statistical bonanza deserves to be celebrated.

Buffalo Bills (-10) at New York Jets

LOL Jets Head Coach Adam Gase still hasn’t been fired despite losing 24-0 to Miami last week. What’s it gonna take, I wonder? A second consecutive shutout may do it, but the Bills defense has been terrible, so it’ll take a real commitment to ineptitude for the Jets to put up their second squadoosh in a row. NY QB Sam Darnold is returning to the lineup, but he’s going to be without his best weapon, WR Jamison Crowder. I honestly feel terrible for poor Sam, as he was drafted into the worst situation I can remember. At least David Carr was hit enough that he likely doesn’t remember ALL of the bad stuff. 

Nearly all of the Bills’ TEs are in the COVID-19 protocol, so I’m not sure how they’re gonna address that. BRING BACK JAY RIEMERSMA!

Dallas Cowboys at Washington Football Team (-1)

The Cowboys being underdogs against Washington is hilarious, even more so because it’s justified. I thought QB Andy Dalton would do a decent job leading the Cowboys offense last week against Arizona, and I was very, very wrong. I still think he can get his shit together somewhat, but the ceiling for this team has been lowered to “Darren Sproles might have to duck a bit” height. I can only condone watching this game for schadenfreude purposes, but even that’s stretching it. Any more than a quarter is just straight-up masochism.

Green Bay Packers (-3.5) at Houston Texans

I’m simultaneously excited to watch this game and struggling to come up with anything novel to say about it. I’m interested to see how Green Bay deploys their awesome CB Jaire Alexander, as whichever Texans WR avoids him is likely to be peppered with targets. Shoutout to Will Fuller’s hamstrings for holding up so far and allowing him to kick ass. 

As of right now it looks like Green Bay will be without studly RB Aaron Jones and sexy touchdown beast TE Robert Tonyan, which isn’t great. But, if there’s one opponent where you should still be ok using a backup RB, it’s the Houston Texans and their atrocious rush defense. Wait, why am I picking Houston? Whatever, fuck it, the heart wants what the heart wants.

LATE GAMES

Tampa Bay Buccaneers (-5) at Las Vegas Raiders

A couple of days ago, it looked like the entire Las Vegas offensive line might miss this game due to being placed on the COVID-19/Reserve list. As of this writing, all those beefy boys are cleared to play, which is good news since they’re going against Tampa Bay’s top-shelf defense (ranked #1 in defensive DVOA). Even with their full compliment of offensive personnel, I still predict many hilarious angry and frustrated faces from Jon Gruden.

Tampa Bay has decided to sign WR Antonio Brown, despite already having two Pro Bowl-caliber receivers in Mike Evans and Chris Godwin. It’s pretty clear this signing was done entirely because QB Tom Brady wanted it, as Brady has been pushing for his team to sign Brown going back to last year in New England. It’s so weird, Tom Brady doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would advocate for an emotionally unstable and supremely narcissistic accused rapist who’s left multiple organizations in disarray upon his unceremonious departure.  

Kansas City Chiefs (-7.5) at Denver Broncos

Fuck yeah, our first potential snow game of the year! The gametime forecast as of right now calls for 5-degree windchill temps with a 35-40 percent chance of flakes throughout. That sounds horrible to play in, but glorious to watch. If we don’t get at least one shot of steam rising off of an offensive lineman’s head I’m gonna be pissed. I’m curious to see what Kansas City does with newly acquired RB Le’Veon Bell in this game. He’s definitely played in more winter-weather games than my boy Clyde Edwards-Helaire, so do they give him more carries this week than they would normally? I hope not, but I can definitely see the argument for it.

San Francisco 49ers at New England Patriots (-3)

I’m a little shaken (relatively, I’m not a complete lunatic) by how shitty New England, and Cam Newton in particular, looked against Denver last week. The lack of practice time due to multiple COVID-related outbreaks is a valid reason for it, but still. I think the Niners are the much better team when healthy, but they’re gonna be missing their best RB Raheem Mostert for this game (and the next few), which does impede their power-run game somewhat. Backup Jerick McKinnon is still very good, he just has a different, less-demoralizing style. Handsome Jimmy will have to make some plays, and I think he can do just enough. The overall talent gap will be too much for NE to overcome, I fear.

Jacksonville Jaguars at Los Angeles Chargers (-7.5)

The Jags have lost five straight games coming into this one, while the Chargers have dropped four in a row. Something’s gotta give! I will say that the Jacksonville losses seem more depressing (3 of them were by double-digits), while even though L.A. is losing, they at least feel exciting. A shiny rookie QB who looks decent will do that, I guess. Still, I’m riding with my man Minshew to cover one last time here. If he fails, well, I think it’ll be time for us to go our separate ways. “Separate Ways” by Journey is also what plays in Gardiner Minshew’s helmet speaker instead of play calls, coincidentally. 

SNF: Seattle Seahawks (-3.5) at Arizona Cardinals

Seattle’s already abysmal secondary is going to be down Pro Bowl safety Jamal Adams for this one, so Cards QB Kyler Murray should be able to sling it around with relative ease. His best weapon, WR Deandre Hopkins is Questionable with a lingering ankle injury, but he’s been playing through it so far and it hasn’t seemed to slow him much. I think this is the week the magic runs out for the Seahawks, and they take their first L of the season. Russell Wilson can’t bail them out EVERY time. Probably. This game is likely to be the stylistic opposite of the Monday nighter, because...

MNF: Chicago Bears at Los Angeles Rams (-6)

...all signs point to this being a butt-ugly game. I like good defense, don’t get me wrong, but nobody should purposely watch Nick Foles and Jared Goff play QB against competent defenses. I suppose I can see some entertainment value in getting to see both Aaron Donald and Khalil Mack torment quarterbacks in the same game, but I think I’m gonna pass for the same reason that I don’t really like to watch animals get eaten in nature shows. I get that it’s the way things are meant to happen, but damn. I’m a real wimp, by the way.

Last Week’s Record: 7-7

Season Record: 44-38-4

#Sports! #Football #NFL #Gambling

[lindoig6]

A Loooong Post about the ‘Sounds of the Bush’

We have been in south-central Gippsland for 12 weeks, unable to move elsewhere during the Covid-19 lockdown but have travelled extensively on daytrips to exercise by taking long walks in the bush. We have walked several hundred kilometres and the relative cacophony of birdsong juxtaposed against the ‘sound of silence’ a mere kilometre away has caused me to think a lot about the sounds of the bush and birdsong in particular.

It is hard to imagine that anyone in Australia (maybe almost anywhere in the world) would be confused about the creature they were listening to if they heard a ‘Cock-a-doodle-doo’ across their neighbour’s fence or even a couple of blocks away.  But there are plenty of other birdcalls and songs that are just as distinctive.  I will talk about some of our Aussie birds shortly, but other countries have birds that are equally as evocative.  In Scotland, for example, I very quickly came to recognise the presence of Eurasian Skylarks even when I couldn’t find them and of course, Common Blackbirds singing at dusk are just as recognisable in Europe as they are here.  It is hard to misdiagnose the call of a Skua or a Peacock, or some species of ducks or owls.

In Australia, almost everyone would recognise the calls of Magpies, Ravens, Kookaburras, Boobooks, Currawongs, Whipbirds, Bellbirds and perhaps a dozen more, even if they were unaware that there were more than one species of some of them, with notably different calls. Most people would hazard a guess at an Emu drumming even if they had never heard one other than on television.

On the other hand, many of our birds are silent or almost so.  Many others are not encountered often enough (or often enough in places where we are) for most of us to become familiar with their calls, so we can be forgiven for not recognising them or understanding their language.

The more we hear particular species’ calls, the more likely we are to recognise them when we hear them again.  But with so many species and subspecies, with so many different calls, nobody can be expected to know more than a small proportion of them.  Perhaps you might be able to guess at a narrow range of possible species and use a bird app or a set of CDs of all Australian bird calls to identify the species, but this might be an insurmountable task if we don’t know where to start.  It is further complicated because, although we might intuitively imagine that big birds would emit louder and/or lower-pitched calls than smaller ones, this is not always the case.  Even remembering (accurately) what we heard in the bush whilst wading through a potentially long series of calls on our app is fraught and misidentification is a serious risk.

In an earlier post, I mentioned the joy I get when I hear the calls of the Pied Currawong, the Grey and Pied Butcherbirds and the Common Blackbird.  Their calls are quite beautiful, melodic, clear and distinctive and they transport me to times and places of significance to me, locking me into emotions and experiences that were important to me at some time – and remain so to this day.

Pied Currawongs remind me of cold mornings camping at Katoomba, hot bushwalks around Canberra, and particularly the high drama that was my life when living alone in Sydney.  The Butcherbirds’ clear ringing song is an unusually pleasant memory of our former apartment in Caloundra when almost everything was disastrous doom and gloom.  And Blackbirds are stereotypically Melbourne for me, especially my earlier years there, although I have since enjoyed their lyrical dawn and dusk serenades on many occasions.

But what of other birds?  In no particular order, I have recently thought about numerous species and their significance to me – whether that refers to a time, a place or an experience.  Here are some of them……..

Peaceful Dove – anything but peaceful with its incessant calling that seems to penetrate a kilometre or more in the bush.  I have seen and heard so many of them, but they always remind me of hot, dry, still, deserted places.  I first heard them in Queensland but recognised the call in crowded Kalbarri and that is what has stayed with me.  They say you never forget your first time, but that is only partly true.  In my earlier post (referred to above), I described my first encounters with Eastern Koels and Channel-billed Cuckoos in Sydney and I will always remember them, but for some reason, I associate Peaceful Doves with Kalbarri, despite having seen and heard them numerous times before without recalling those sightings.

Laughing and Spotted Doves – predominantly from Perth and Melbourne.  Their soft, repetitive murmuring seems to have been most often heard when I have been in bed and I still imagine snuggling under the covers and listening to the Laughing Doves on the roof or in the trees outside my window as a child. A warm, safe and comforting feeling.

Everyone loves the warbling of a Magpie.  Indeed, it has been recognised as one of the most iconic sounds of Australia: as has the mirth of the (Laughing) Kookaburra. In general, it is the quiet pleasant communication between birds but nobody fails to imagine that some of the time, the Magpie is simply carrying on a conversation with us.  We talk to them, they respond.  Who hasn’t had such an encounter with an inquisitive bird a mere metre or two away, head cocked to one side, listening to our wisdom before imparting some nonsense of its own?

Corellas – usually but not only the Little Corella. Many people hate them for the damage they can do but I love them.  My first memorable encounter with them was at Halls Gap in the Grampians, where hundreds of them squabbled over the best few inches of branch to roost on that particular night.  They tend to swarm into and out of the same tall trees for at least a couple of hours every night and are very often seen (by us) around camping areas.  They are wonderful aerobats, great characters, comics, highly vocal and seem intent on discussing every detail of their day’s adventures with every other bird in the flock so it is an entertaining, if noisy, reunion when many campers are trying to relax, listen to their televisions, or sleep. Interestingly, they are off on new adventures before many of us surface in the morning, usually without waking any of us.

Galahs are somewhat the same, performing superb aerobatics, just because they can.  Their monosyllabic call evokes the desert for me wherever I am: hot, clear evenings even though I have seen them right across the country at all times of the day, and occasionally at night.  They are stereotypically Outback birds in my mind, even though I know they are not.

Grey Shrike-thrush – a lovely nondescript bird with a big, melodic voice.  I first saw one in the West McDonalds near Alice Springs and heard its call with wonder. Such a small bird, so hard to find, yet singing its little repertoire so loudly just a metre or two in front of me. I rarely saw others until our enforced stay in Warragul but have now heard so many of them that I can identify them even if I can’t see them.  At one time, I imagined (from the end of their call) that they were similar to a Whipbird (equally hard to spot, despite their loud distinguishing call), but now know better and can easily identify both from their calls.

Most people hate the Common Myna, claiming them to be foreign invaders, aggressively supplanting our native birds.  But let’s not blame the bird for being what it is. After all, it was humans that introduced it to Australia and if it is aggressive, that is simply crucial to its survival strategy.  I am not even convinced of its risk to our own birds.  If you refer to my earlier post about the birds on our terraces at home, you will note that they have been put in their place by our far less aggressive Spotted Doves and House Sparrows (admittedly also introduced species). The reason I have highlighted this species is because their range of vocalisations is extensive and can be piercingly loud and grating or soft and musical.  Indeed, I often imagine different birds when I hear them because ‘surely, that can’t be a Myna!’

The calls of Magpie-larks and Willy Wagtails can also be shrill and deafening, especially for such small birds. Although I like their cheeky playfulness, I find their voices unpleasant, grating, raucous, piercing and uncharacteristic of diminutive species.  Magpie-larks in particular can screech at almost painful levels at a range of 100 metres or more.

The Masked Lapwing also has a distinctive call, albeit not as piercing as the Magpie-lark.  I first encountered them as a bowler in a cricket team where the run-up at one of the pitches we used was also used as a nesting site for a pair of Lapwings for at least 3 successive years.  The poor birds were frantic whenever we played there, screeching and diving at us constantly whilst we poor humans erected a few sticks to surround a small no-man’s-land near the eggs in the scrape on the ground.  Bowlers in particular found it frustrating to run around this quarantined area as they approached the crease – and many a catch was dropped when a fielder was screamed at for chasing a ball too close to the sacred ground.  Amazingly, despite the Saturday afternoon inconvenience to them, the Lapwings successfully fledged their chicks year after year.  More recently, when living in Richmond, my love of this species was renewed when they would call from the oval across the road every evening, particularly in the colder weather.  Huddled cosy by the fire, listening to the unmistakable calls from across the road became one of the more enjoyable features of our winter evenings.

Australian Ravens (the eponymous Aussie crows) are also birds of wonder for me.  All our crows and ravens have somewhat similar calls, but my favourite by far is the Australian Raven with its long, slow, lazy, down-turning groan.  Caaaahhhaaharrr – very different to our other corvids.  I grew up in Western Australia where all ‘crows’ were Australian Ravens and their call always reminds me of hot, dry, dusty days in the ‘great southern wheatbelt’ where I spent a lot of my recreational time as a child and adolescent.  On my relatives’ wheat and sheep farms, they were seen as pests, attacking newborn lambs and spilling grain from the unsewn tops of wheat bags. One uncle in particular temporarily stored hundreds of bags of grain at the side of the house and the ravens were attracted to it – to uncle’s annoyance.  He sometimes set himself up in the sleepout with his shotgun, but it took no more than a couple of inches of barrel to appear between the louvres before the ravens took flight.  He claimed that they were the cleverest birds on earth – much to his chagrin.

A rare call in Gippsland has been that of the White-plumed Honeyeater that has seemed the most prominent and distinctive call almost wherever else I have travelled in Australia.  I have heard it in a couple of places in Gippsland, but it is one of the most recognisable calls (for me) and its absence in this area has surprised me.

On the other hand, there are other calls that I find instantly recognisable, including most of those mentioned above. Among the others are the Black-cockatoos, White-headed Stilts, Oystercatchers, Striated and Spotted Pardalotes, Southern Boobooks, Bell Minors, Black Swans, White-faced Herons to name a few.

But there are also some areas of confusion. I always imagined that the sound of the Whistling Kite was diagnostic – until I heard the almost identical whistling of Black Kites.  Similarly, most ducks quack, but how does one differentiate between one quack and another? Many small bush-birds twitter away, largely hidden in dense thickets and it is hard to identify them from their call, especially if more than one species is calling in the same area.  But if you think it may be a particular species, it is sometimes possible to confirm it – although it might be harder to rule it out.  I was recently in an area where numerous birds were calling but I thought I saw a Brown Thornbill and heard its call.  I used an app on my phone to confirm my identification and interestingly, we were suddenly surrounded by several more Brown Thornbills, all trying to interact with the app.

I have been on the beach at dusk and have been able to identify Masked Lapwings, Silver Gulls and Oystercatchers from their calls, but anything else is a guess.  I have also been at sea surrounded by majestic seabirds and found it almost impossible to identify any from their occasional calls.  Some of that is simply lack of familiarity, but many pelagic species seem to be silent or have somewhat similar calls making identification other than by sight difficult.

Some birds rarely use their voice, but others are great communicators, at least between their species.  Families of Babblers are constantly babbling, almost never silent, simply keeping contact within the group.  Noisy Miners are (naturally) very noisy and who hasn’t been irritated by their incessant ‘chip, chip, chip, chips’?  New Holland Honeyeaters, Grey Fantails and Superb Fairy-wrens seem to be twittering constantly as they flit around the foliage hunting for a feed.

The sound of one species that is unmistakable to me, even if I don’t see it and it does not call is the Crested Pigeon.  The sound made by its wings in flight is absolute proof of the species.  (A bit like the sound of wind in Sheoaks – instant recognition).

But then there is the sound of the Superb Lyrebird – or rather the cacophony of sounds.  Being such a brilliant mimic, one needs to listen for a few moments to ensure you are not listening to a Whipbird and a Rosella and a motor bike and a chainsaw and the ringtone of a phone and…….  It is the variety of replicated sounds that enables you to identify this species.  Whether there is an innate ‘natural’ call of the species is perhaps doubtful because it incorporates the calls of so many other local birds (and incidental sounds) into its repertoire.

Despite some places and periods of silence in the bush where birds may or may not be present, there are wonderful experiences when the air is alive with birdsong.  Far and near, we might hear twittering and tweeting, raucous squawking and shrieking, melodic warblings, single peeps and long carolling.  These are often somewhat frustrating times when we are trying to see and identify the birds near us, but are constantly distracted by another call or another shadow, or another bird catching our attention because it is nearer or larger or louder and we simply don’t know where to look next.

Equally, we may be at a beach or beside a lake or surrounded by dense thickets or very tall trees and we can hear birds all around us or high in the canopy, but simply can’t find them.  In Gippsland, I have recently been in towering forests with many small birds flitting around the leaves, but have simply been unable to focus my binoculars on them because they are so small, so far away and so active in their foraging, cloaked in foliage and silhouetted against a bright sky.

[jennyjeffries]

Where did the last six days go? It’s not like I’m frantically busy or anything. Suddenly I’m getting the occasional request – well, alright – ONE request for what is happening with Con and Rona, and realise that you don’t know what’s been happening in my exciting bubble lately. In a word – it’s starting to feel quite small, constricting even.

I started a jigsaw puzzle, and have set Con and Rona up to keep going at it while I get on with more important things. Needless to say, they haven’t found a piece that fits yet, but I was hopeful boredom would drive them to it. What I did NOT expect to be driven, was my car – by Rona – in an attempt to flee the bubble and expand her horizons. She didn’t get far!

I am so ashamed of her – and planned a bubble within a bubble experience for her upon return. However, she seems to have convinced the policeman that she was an essential worker, caring for someone vulnerable (who? Con?? She can’t mean me surely). The next thing you know I’m settling in for the 1pm COVID-19 update on TV1 and I see the prime minister has brought in an essential worker to explain the state of the most vulnerable to the nation.

Worse than anything she might reveal about the state of our own bubble, is the fact that she is wearing a dressing gown. AND not keeping a 2 metre distance from Jacinda Ardern, who is looking decidedly uncomfortable. (Join the club, PM!)

Just wait til Rona gets home! LOCKDOWN is going to take on new meaning at this address.

Aside from Rona’s antics, I’ve noticed how little hot water we seem to have left, and this morning I discovered just why:

Con has been soaking in hot baths having read somewhere that hot water destroys the virus. I might just duck his head under and hold it there for a while. Especially since he also made a run for it over the Easter break, dressing up in a suit and being found in the front of a chocolate shop window completely overglutted in chocolate. (Reminds me of a movie I once saw).

As you can see, it’s been very trying – I can only warn you all not to make your own companions next time you feel a surge of potential loneliness take you. It’s just not worth it.

Moving on from Con and Rona (happy sigh), I must say Easter was very pleasant. Not that we’re going anywhere or doing anything, but there was no guilt attached to either. Now I need to pull up my socks and find activities to fill my days, and hope all the rubber bands are in place for work from home over the next two days. I have – sadly – eaten far too many chocolate easter eggs and hot cross buns. And done a spot of my own baking yesterday (shortbread). In between all the naughty food, I still attempt to retain some normalcy in my low carb, no sugar diet (ha ha ha ha ha). It’s like there are two of me. As soon as this blog is finished I am going out into the wild winds and doing even a kilometre of walking. I have already covered every street in the peninsula by bicycle:

I’ve watched a fair amount of Lightbox (I’ll buy into Netflix when I’ve seen everything on LB). I’ve listened to a sturdy amount of audiobook (Dorothy Dunnett). I’ve photographed some spectacular dawns and sunsets around the locality:

And like you all, spent some time using video calls to catch up with friends. The days have been taking on a certain rhythm. The long sunny days of Autumn have given way to the wet and windy gusts, a prelude to the coming winter. I hope you are all maintaining your health, your bubble and your good cheer. I won’t mention physique in the same sentence. On that note, I’ll head out into the wet and wild right now. Au Revoir.

Day 21 – the light at the end of the tunnel Where did the last six days go? It's not like I'm frantically busy or anything. Suddenly I'm getting the occasional request - well, alright - ONE request for what is happening with Con and Rona, and realise that you don't know what's been happening in my exciting bubble lately.

[womenofcolor15]

Here’s The Ultimate List Of TV Shows/Movies You Should Watch With Your Kiddies While On Lockdown

We've compiled the ultimate list of TV shows/movies to watch with your kiddies during lockdown. Because based on y'all complaints about your own kids, you need some help.  Get into it inside...

By now, you’re likely ready to pull every strand from your head as we’ve been on lockdown for almost a month. And if you’re not an essential worker during the COVID-19 crisis, you’re at home with your kids, who are just as tired of being cooped up in the house. Well, it has become our new normal, and if we want to go back to our OLD normal, then we just have to thug it out and sit still.

It's hard enough getting the to focus on Zoom style learning, so when "school" is done for the day, you likely don't even wat to be bothered.

To help, we put together a list of TV show and movies to watch with you kiddies. Get creative when you watch too. Move the coffee table out the way and built a fort in the living room as if you’re camping. Pop some pop corn, bake cupcakes – make it special and memorable! Soon, we’ll be looking back at this time of our lives and will cherish the moments we shared with our loved ones.

Netflix is gearing up to release a cute new movie titled "The Main Event" and it looks like it would be the perfect film to watch with your kiddies.

When 11-year-old Leo Thompson (played by Seth Carr) discovers a magical wrestling mask that grants him super strength, he uses it to enter a WWE competition. With the support of his grandmother (Tichina Arnold), Leo will do whatever it takes to achieve his dream of becoming a WWE Superstar. Can one kid win it all, in the face of epic challengers in the ring? Directed by Jay Karas, THE MAIN EVENT co-stars Adam Pally, Ken Marino, and features WWE Superstars Kofi Kingston, The Miz and Sheamus. Peep the trailer above.

"The Main Event" premieres April 10th on Netflix.

Below are a few more Netflix pics for you and the kiddies:

Raising Dion

Spirit Riding Free

Trolls Holiday

Bunk'd

Mowgli: Legend of the Jungle

The Karate Kid

The Secret Life of Pets 2

Imagine That

Good Burger

Hook

Word Party

Mowtown Magic

A few Disney+ suggestions - old and new school:

Elephants - narrated by Meghan Markle

Avatar

The Princess and the Frog

Inside Out

Iron Man

Ratatouille

Toy Story

Beauty and the Beast

The Lion King

Frozen II

Aladdin

HBO has some family friendly movies:

Big, PG

The Little Rascals, PG

Teen Titans Go! To the Movies, PG

Little, PG-13

Alpha and Omega: The Great Wolf Games, PG

Shazam!, PG-13

The Chronicles of Narnia: The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, PG

The Last Unicorn, G

Rio, G

The Mighty Ducks, PG

The Lego Movie 2: The Second Part, PG

Happy Feet Two, PG

Madagascar, PG

Babe, G

Anastasia, G

Mr. Popper’s Penguin’s, PG

Mr. Magoo, PG

Mrs. Doubtfire, PG-13

Puss in Boots, PG

The Land Before Time, G

The Indian in the Cupboard, PG

Nancy Drew and the Hidden Staircase, PG

 YouTube has this cute series titled "The Goo Goo Colors." You can check it out here. 

In case you missed, check out out #QurantineAndChill list (for the grownups) HERE.

  Photo: Netflix

  [Read More ...] source http://theybf.com/2020/04/04/here%E2%80%99s-the-ultimate-list-of-tv-showsmovies-you-should-watch-with-your-kiddies-while-on-lo

[redqueenmusings]

Sunday Day 29 – At first, I slept a lot, it gave me the illusion days would go by faster but now my routine is pretty much set in stone. I tend to go to bed at around midnight, often later, sleep soundly for a short while then I’m wide awake for 2 or 3 hours. But no need to be on the button as everything else including the news has slowed down. From today, I decided to keep my updates on the virus to just one a day and go back to my normal twice a week schedule for the News in Brief, unless of course there is some breaking news.

Other than making that one decision, it was an uneventful day. Jim finished off touching up the bannisters. He actually started last week, but I didn’t mention it because it was only this week he got around to finish it. His theory is ‘being a perfectionist you can’t rush things’.

Monday Day 30 – every day is a repeat of the last, so little point in documenting them. I could just write ditto. Realistically even I can’t continue in full Bridget Jones mode despite being able to rabbit on and have an opinion on most things I have run out of stuff to say. That alone must be a first.

But it didn’t stop the brain whirling… Just a few weeks ago, who was to know that we would soon be facing an unprecedented way of life. Were the warning signs there all along? It wasn’t that long since we thought we had left behind Brexit and the bankruptcy of Thomas Cook. Then we were invaded by the largest sandstorm for almost half a century, it was so bad the island airports had to close. As if that wasn’t bad enough we then faced the dreaded COVID-19 that is spreading chaos, confusion and death in six of the seven world continents.

Overnight everything changed we went from being able to go about freely to being expected to only go to our nearest supermarket or pharmacy and we weren’t even able to travel in the car together. Hotels closed, motorways without traffic, empty beaches, shops with the blind lowered. The virus without warning cut short our happy life here in the south of Tenerife.

If there is a positive to be drawn from the confinement it has to be across the world, grey polluted skies have suddenly turned blue and a cleaner, fresher air can be breathed. Beaches that would normally be crowded, are deserted – there may be no tourists but these stretches are now populated with seabirds and dolphins and whales are coming closer to the shore. There are ducks and goats stroll through the streets. In real terms, it hasn’t taken that long. I wonder when we come out of this pandemic if a new world will dawn. Since the hand of man has been withdrawn it hasn’t taken nature long to be reborn.

In an ideal world, once all this is over,  it would be nice if we could learn from the experience. Realistically we can’t permanently have millions of parked cars and thousands of shut down industries but perhaps we could plot a better future even just a little bit better. It will be interesting to see if we really do appreciate clean living or will we just as quickly return to what we think of as normality. Is this unbridled race towards the destruction of the plant where we live what we actually call progress?

Of course, I couldn’t end without saying a big “Well Done” to everyone in Tenerife who should pat themselves on the back. The island as a whole has taken to the restrictions far better than most, apart from the odd exception.

In the meantime, waiting is the only thing we can do.

Check Queenie’s Daily Snippets for Tenerife news & events

Week 5 – there is no more! Sunday Day 29 - At first, I slept a lot, it gave me the illusion days would go by faster but now my routine is pretty much set in stone.

[doomsdaywriter]

I started something short to post today but it’s not done and I’m too tired to try and finish it, so instead I’m going to ramble a bit about recent events. I’m counting this as part of the Nuke Opera series because, well, because I can since I’m the one who gets to define what is and isn’t on topic.  And a global pandemic is within the scope of what I’m wanting to look at when we start getting into the fiction pieces I want to cover.

Some personal stuff, for posterity’s sake: I first heard about the coronavirus around the same time everyone else in the US did, back in December (I want to say? Not looking it up right now because I want to preserve my memories, faulty as they might be).  Back then, I didn’t think much about it since it wasn’t happening here. I remember being sympathetic to the folks who were sick but, again, wasn’t happening here, wasn’t directly affecting me, so wasn’t really on my radar. No, I’m not particularly proud of that.

Gradually (or so it seemed to me), the virus became more and more of a big deal, more people in China were getting sick, there were concerns about it spreading, and so on and so forth. I started paying a bit more attention to the situation, but it was more out of curiosity than anything else. Again, the virus was still “over there” and I had other things to worry about — again, I was sympathetic to the folks in Wuhan but in the abstract.

Then the virus spread, first to cruise ships and then reports of it in countries outside of China. Still more of an abstract concern, but realer now since some of the worry was hitting closer to home. Fast-forward to this week, with cases being reported in every state (except, last I heard, West Virginia, though that could have changed by now). In Ohio, the number of cases has gone from five to 13 to 26 to 37 in just under six days. Now, instead of being a world away, the virus has appeared a little over fifty miles from where I live.

Okay, that sounds really dramatic for all that its accurate. Yes, there are cases in the Greater Cincinnati area which is less than an hour from where I live. But, honestly? There are probably cases a lot closer to me than that. The Ohio Director of Health is guesstimating that there are at least 100,000 people infected in the state, so the 37 cases we know about are just the very tip of the Sword of Damocles that’s hanging over us right now.

I went out and got groceries today since the governor of Ohio has ordered all dine-in restaurants and bars to close, starting at 9 pm tonight. It wasn’t bad. There was no panicking, no hysteria, no fights or arguments. Yes, the shelves were bare in spots (forget about getting toilet paper, eggs or bottled water), but I managed to get enough food for my girlfriend and I to be able to eat for the next week or so. And since drive-thrus and carryout places are still open, maybe even a bit longer than that.

I am worried about what’s going to happen when the first case hits *really* close to home.  My personal worst-case scenario is someone getting sick at my job, but we’re on top of things in terms of making hand sanitizer and disinfectant wipes available (it’s something we’ve been doing since long before COVID-19 was even a concern). But, for right now, there’s nothing to do but wait and see what happens. Hope for the best, prepare for the worst, just as people have done in every disaster situation since the dawn of mankind.

This has been a bit of a ramble and I’ll likely circle back around to talk about this in relation to nuclear war and Nuke Operas but for now, I need to sleep ’cause work comes early tomorrow. I hope you are all safe and sound and well.

And remember: wash your hands! And if you can’t wash, use hand sanitizer. If you need something to sing for 20 seconds, how about “Duck and Cover”? Here’s a couple handy posters, made using “Wash Your Lyrics.”

Nuke Opera 2020: Pandemic Interlude I started something short to post today but it's not done and I'm too tired to try and finish it, so instead I'm going to ramble a bit about recent events.

#ARO80: 2020 #AROW80 #AROW80 Round One: 2020 #COVID-19 #Nuke Opera 2020 #Pandemic 2020