Fireplace hanger

...
Eric, said Lillian. Would you come over here for a moment? She set up the LampTop in the Middle of the Table.
The Printer was working.
What were you saying you wanted to look up again Terrence?
The Computer was a Four Portcullis-Doored Chamber of a Smart Computer-Tablet Network, on a Lamp Base, with one, "Tablet"/"Panel," to each Door.
It was made for Families and Businesses, to Conference around, and share when used inside, and was tight sealing and water proof, and usable as a Lantern, when detached from the base.
It's roof was double eave hip and flat, with a ring for holding up.
Terrence, of course, would look up Sports News! One Tablet, there, would be passed.
The Tennessee Crayturs!
Ropes of garlic cloves hung near Asian Fu-Dogs (Lion-like Temple Guardians), by the Upper Flat’s Door.
Eric brought up some American Food from the, now, Chinese & American, Food Kitchen, which he had just bought. Enough for Giselle’s Boyfriend and herself.
Andrei bought some, "Brimstone Chocolate,” the next day at The Store.
...
Ren was over at Dakota’s, using the punching bag, for kickboxing.
Every time I hit this, you will weaken your hold over that little Holiday Card and Gift Shop worker.
She was referring to Juniper.
I think you’re getting a little deluded over this Ren, said Dakota. The punching bag, took another hit, then Ren settled down.
Ren sat down at a lawn table, in the Garage, worked her hands and then had some Orange Tea. It was from when she had visited Andrei, before the failed movie night. She had been over for Supper.
...
Perry was absent for Christmas. He announced to his, "tour guides," that he wasn't lost. He had stumbled across them heading through the woods.
What do you mean you aren't lost? Do you need a Paramedic? What are you doing here? One of the Male Group Leaders, with big Ovular Glasses and Greying Black Hair said. He was wearing a Blue Ski Jacket.
Perry, in all truth, had only stumbled across a group of travellers, while hiking through the woods, himself. He took it upon himself to introduce himself, and his mission.
It says right here, that there's supposed to be a gas station in the wooded trails to the sides of the Slopes, and I can't seem to find one. I wanted to buy some cigarettes.
Do you need me in on that one, because if that's so, you need to be on the opposite end of the slopes than where we're at, said a young blonde-pigtailed girl. She laughed.
Grody! Complained Perry. Never mind. Hey got anything to eat that I can buy off you?
Perry left with a Water Canteen and a Bag of Trail Mix.
He left the hikers baffled and a bit dismayed. They kind of liked his wild and untamed personality, which in many ways was like his own hairstyle, frayed way out a bit at the ends, and, while up in the mountains, about as much as you see from people. Well that, beyond their gear, anyhow.
He had said he had to get going, and walked back, away from the group, with a, "working," compass, heading back to the cabin.
His trek had taken too long.
So let me get this straight, Evelyn asked. There's no way your business is staying in operation past New Years?
Well, it will be here, said Ralph distractedly, but there's no way for the entire shop to stay open at this rate as I've misunderstood and lost some very important business clientele.
Dakota sat smirking.
Who are they? asked Evelyn. Barron and I are still here for you, and are you sure? I'd be very sad to see you go.
Well, Lillian for one. She and Eric, are settling further East, in Chinatown/California, in the same District, but won't be running the Antiques, and Veronica from the Crafts and Music Section of Cost Price is now no-longer afforded to outlet here, so we'll be running low on exactly what I could do to afford some of our more brightly inventive inventory.
That's a shame said Evelyn. Well, glad to hear that you and Adelaide have it all worked out. I'm here to drop off that quilt Andrei told you about.
Oh good! Said Ralph. Welcome.
Just wait, I'll go get it from the car. Evelyn left the store to go and pick up the quilt from the open trunk of her car, which waited, idling outside.
Mr. Dizzmith, I've been reading those books you passed me, said Andrei.
Oh! And what do you think? asked Mr. Dizzmith.
Well, I'm kind of caught up on wondering why you passed them to me, said Andrei. They're all about some random guy, named Eldritch Spellbound.
I had it, you and he were very alike, said Mr. Dizzmith. Anyhow, Sasha's here, he said. We should get that quilt folded and put away somewhere, he said with a thank-you as Evelyn passed him the heavy thing and he put it down to the side of him.
Time to close up Shop.
Sasha, Dizzmith’s daughter had flown in by plane, and she had taken a courtesy car to the Shop. Her lodgings were at her family’s, and she had brought him to work that morning before going to sight-see around the town.
I see everything is working out well said Sasha, hopefully we get that last batch of parcels ready before the Christmas rush.
No worries, said Ralph, we always manage. Though, there does seem to be a minor hiccup, with Andrei going to Finsford, Newfoundland, and the Grid going out, but I'm sure we'll get everything to smooth out, perfectly fine. Everything is bound to work out well at Christmas.
Perry got back to the cabin, and looked at a smallish rock he had confiscated while on the trails. He had put it in his pocket. He didn't know what it was, but there was something unique about it.
Maybe that it appeared to have a face?
…
Opening the door, he walked inside and placed the rock on top of a cabinet nearest to the entrance. The cabinet had an alcove underneath for placing boots in. It was made of dark wood and nailed to the wall.
The cabin was dark, with two frosted windows, and was full of shadows, except for when the fire was lit.
A green, battery-powered radio was on, still with fuzzy reception. Perry walked over to it and turned it off. It sat on a small, blonde, circular wooden table, which came up to about the height of his knee, and was located at the far right corner of the cabin, from the entrance.
The fireplace, was on the far right wall, and a woven rug lay on the floor between it and the sofa, which faced it. The sofa was crafted of wood, and upholstered with tough, knit cushions.
Granny Smith's Travel Log was white with blue letters. He threw it onto the small table, right beside the radio, looking over at it and making a blaming face. He had brought it out for his walk accidentally, rather than a map. It, being only a Tourist Brochure.
He walked back over to the door, had some more Trail Mix, put the bag, on the Cabinet, beside the Rock, and then, reached over the sofa, and dropped the Water Canteen on it, turning to leave.
The Cabin had a framed Constellation Piece, on the wall across from the entrance, slightly to the right, but left of and above, the miniature table. It was done in blues and whites. The stars in the art, looked like different types of snow crystals.
Hidden between it and the wall, at the top corner of the frame, was the note he had written earlier. He considered it to be lamely, "tacked."
Perry walked out of the cabin, feeling a little upset that he had to make a second trek, and set out to walk in the opposite direction from, which he had left that morning.
It took him about one hour and 15 minutes, to make it to the main part of the wood, on the other side of the slopes.
He had had to stop and adjust his left boot, against a fir. Putting his hand against it, he felt a sliver enter his hand. His glove lay in the snow
Frig! He stated. Perry was not pleased.
Leaning down, he untied the boot. He shook his right hand balancing on his right leg, and repaired his repose against the tree, using his right elbow.
Shaking a pebble furiously out of his leather hiking boot with his left hand, he put the boot back on, retied it and then, examined his right hand. It was swelling at the base of his thumb, where it met the palm.
His hand was cold and sweaty and he noticed a peculiar, and quite painful, circular, blue mark on it.
Looking at the conifer, he glanced from bark, to needles, to branches, to cones.
His skin hadn't been pierced by anything, so far as he could tell. It was weird. He couldn't make anything of it other than it looked like some peculiar kind of lesion, and he didn’t know what from. The colour was slightly off.
What on earth did, that? he griped angrily, puffed up… and about his smokes.
Picking his gloves up and putting them back on, he continued ob with his trek.
Perry shook his right arm, irritated. He, however was in luck.
8 minutes in, he had found a trail with a sign, and following that, he finally made it to the gas station.
'Murk Reddy's Safe Sale', was a drab-looking store, but it was open 24/7.
The day was Friday, the 24th.
Vendredi… He laughed. How ironic.
It was next to a road pass, and though being worse for wear, it was still full of some extremely useful items, many small, some larger.
Hunters would shop there for their hunting supplies, but no hunting was allowed in the wood, due to it's close proximity to the slopes. To hunt, people driving the mountain stretch, would have to go further along.
His prospects brightening, it occurred to Perry, that if he stayed in the mountains longer, he might just be able to catch some wildlife.
He bought some Binoculars.
Looking around, he also picked up a Hand Towel, and some Tiger Balm, figuring if he rubbed the stuff on his hand, the mark wouldn't bother him.
Perry checked out with four packs of Beef Jerky, three Lighters, a couple Packs of Smokes, some Hickory Sticks, a Utility Knife, a Bottle of Non-Alcoholic Apple Cider, a Glass Canister of Oatmeal, a Small Kettle, some Black Licorice, and a Bottle of Rum, to try and celebrate.
Before leaving the store, he picked up a gift for June. He had found some neat Crafts down one aisle, and selected a rare Wooden Lamb Sculpt, with Ornamental Butterfly Wings. That, as well as a Small Pillow that said, "I Love You."
This thing is a little Tootie-Frootie, he thought, but she might like it.
He left the store a little happier, but still depressed with the way things were turning out and the fact that he wasn't with her. She had been too busy to make the trip. Perry, on the other hand, couldn’t turn it down. He’d booked it.
The lower part of his right arm was beginning to go numb and he started to worry. Perry had to wonder if something gotten into his bloodstream, though he still didn't think that could be possible.
Getting back to the cabin. He made his peace. It was dark outside.
He took a couple blocks of lumber to start a fire, and walked inside the door. It was getting late, and he heard an owl in the distance.
Sitting at the larger dining table, on a wooden chair, he laid the goods out beside some paper he had spread out earlier. And applied some of the salve to the frozen area, massaging it.
Expecting his skin to wax warmer, he felt nothing. The salve/balm, apparently did nothing. Also, the pain had quickly left him.
Cripe! Perry uttered, upstarted bya sudden sickly spasm coming from underneath the skin of his arm. He had moved for the rum. While it (noticeably?) moved toward the back.
Ugh... What is it with today? he griped. A dead-swift thud, came next. Perry's arm had hit the log cabin's newspaper-covered picnic tabletop, the bottle of rum rocked off to the side and Perry cried out.
Something popped loudly and a trickle moved slowly downward from his elbow.
“… Phantom Icicle Leech Wyrms…”, read Andrei, from the, ‘Book Of Wyrms’, “… better known as ice firecrackers…”
“… Rumoured to exist, as far back as the 1500s, in the Rocky Mountains, Parasites, which seem, "insubstantial," but for watermarks left on the skin…”
“… These phantom dragons-in-a-mini, form their composite mass out of the blood's plasma from a generally innocuous substrate, which activates only once absorbed through the skin and entering into the bloodstream…”
“… An urban legend, they are said to form, "icicles," on the skin of land-dwelling mammals who make contact with their liquefied remains. Once their mass is obtained, they rapidly pour out in chrysalis-form, at an exit site on the skin, and drop off….”
“… Practically transparent, if kept in a cold climate, this form refreezes, over and over again, making a brittle (thin-haired), nettle of ice, that, though inanimate, could be called an, "elemental wyrm."...”
“… It spreads, if picked up again, or if it melts, and it's water touches anywhere on a living creature's body. Never mind, that the birds or land animals break them, leading to hissing sounds being heard, which disturb insects in the area, awakening them from winter slumber…”
“… These insects, are then, a blight to trees, making the, "icicle firecrackers," very unseasonal, but in the, mountains, still a very dubious find, due to there being much more, "actual," snow…”
Juniper opened her armoire and took out a green and black scarf and a coat. She then laid them down on the bedding, which she had just fluffed.
She walked into the living room and spoke with her Grandmother.
Yes Grams, I'll win and yes Grams I'm sure of it.
A Miniature Totem rested on the mantle of the Fireplace and off in the corner, by the door, was a full-fledged Standing Bear with Headress resting on it from her forefathers for how royal they, really, were.
I'm still waiting here Lindsay, said her Grandmother, now get over here. They had both been amped to get the Games on. Juniper had just put away with an Assignment.. Finished!
Juniper Lindsay Rose, settled opposite her Grandmother. At that point in the evening, they had more candles lit. They were in the middle of a Huntingopoly game, and the two sat, with a glass bowl of Caramel Corn. Juniper had also put down a Scrabble word.
Ridiculous, Harvey had uttered in his sleep on a Recliner, sounding unsettled.
Probably the Turkey, Susan worried. She turned around to check on him. They had three games going. The other one was a game of cards.
Juniper's books occupied a narrow shelf in the corner of her room, between her grey-and-pink floral, duvet-covered, queen, and her window which overlooked her lawn. Her study area, was entirely appalling, but the one asset was that she didn't write in scrawl.
She had a long dressing mirror and her own bathroom.
Grams, I think I’ll go out for a while, said Juniper.
Fine said Susan. Harvey had started snoring again. I’ll put on the telly.
Keep a look out, and enjoy your walk… Guardian.
Juniper, then, picked her keys up off of a key hanger on the wall, took an umbrella, as it had just started to rain, and put a coat on, leaving her Grandmother and Grandfather for about two to two-and-a-half hours.
'The Book of, "Ho-Do"’, in, ‘The Book Of Right’.
The Composite Lore of a man, named Eldritch Spellbound.
"... What I'm telling you here, isn't in emergency, but is something, which I'm sure you will want to know, and will sure have been wanting to have heard of...
... Don't utter Santa's name within earshot..."
The irony! thought Andrei. I'm now reading a book that ties into Santa Claus...
"... A long time ago, the God Iapetos, had a powerful knack. I'm pretty sure you know of the God Jupiter, but have you heard of his modern placement within the realm of, "Pinocchio?" His name had been given to Gepetto..."
Oh boy, Andrei grimaced, leerily. The book wants to tell me how to bring toys to life?
"... First, we start with the story of the God Atlas. Who, IS the most Imposing Figure in this Tale: 666/The Beast..."
"... Why, is this not in our figuring? Firstly, most people don't know the Beast's name is ApheEpher, which means, "Ash," secondly, they don't know it's name bearer was actually placed with the World-Bearing God, Atlas, as, "Atlas-Epher."
Is he gone?... No.
Is he all that good? Definitely not!
Though, is he relevant?... Yes, but it may take awhile for me to tell you how.
What type of figure was he?
That is, the Antichrist. Or in other words, Not Satan, but, Satan's, "Heir," in setting Mund-Article as precedent to man's further suffrage.
What, I really hope to do, at this point in the Book, is just clarify, that even if all Dragon's die off (not that they would all have to), this one man, is still out, to dawn by the power of their collective, "Eye," and that all we know about him, may not be as reputed.
This, "Man Of Burden," known as, "Atlas-Epher," is presently the one wrestling Christ from the people who should know Him.
Satan & JHVH, faced a problem, when Satan too, wanted to create. Thus, he was fallen from Heaven, along with a Host of other Fallen Angels, and given Earth as it's, "Bene Elohim," or Law-Keeper.
But when God made man and woman, both humane, compassionate, and of kind, the woman, as the one with a womb, He did it, to keep soul invested in the Earth.
They were forced to leave the Garden of Good, due to Eve's having approached the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.
The premise being, that in a Garden of Good, nobody needs to know of Good and Evil, and by two people, then each having two minds to their nature afterwards, it didn't bode well. It was the Good & Evil Tree, thus making it the one designate, "Evil," within the Garden.
God had rudimentary knowledge of Creation, instilled in that Apple Tree, though some argue Fig.
The problem was, that it was Guarded by Satan, who fell there much earlier. The reason Satan, lured Eve over, it is believed, is not, because she was weaker than Adam, but, because she was Created after Adam, thus had less acquaintance with God in her life, chronologically.
This Tree was a Sign. The Sign, of a Garden Covenant with God, which if broken, would spell disasters.
Who could fix them? Well, Christ.
Satan, used Eve, as his in, to infiltrate the line of humankind, by indulterating her and Adam, so that they were involved with one another against the better line of their Good, Godly Judgement. In this way, he could trade his own line, into them, to fall soul to Great Spirits, which were opposed to the Holy Spirit sanctifying that very Earth AND Heaven.
God, furious, turned the Serpent Satan, "molt"-en, but even still, made it so that, men and women had to labor on Earth, to put their line ahead, offsetting the catastrophe that was to come, by having them leave the Garden.
That way, more posterity could be deigned for the line of mankind, and one day, some of them might enter God's Kingdom of Heaven.
That was unbeknownst to them, however, it is supposed that they saw God in the Garden, where no-one has apparently ever seen His face, but for very few Prophets, that is..
Their initial sin, made it so that nobody would find the Garden, as the entrance was blocked by cherubim with flaming-swords, for being the initial, "fault-line."
Some Jews came to believe they would eventually make it to a similar Garden as their ultimate Land of Providence. Gan Eden, also referred to as Olam Ha Ba.
It was their Messianic Prophets (the like of the very Isaiah, and also John The Baptist), however, who led to putting forward the testimony of the Messiah, the Teachings about a new Jerusalem and a New Heaven, being His claimsake.
So, where is the Peace in a World with an alleged powerful, "Knack," somewhere in the testimony, and a Man who holds the World in, "Ashen Retrospect?"
I am here to tell you, that once you know what I know, you may very well look to the one who holds Egypt in the realm of the Buddha, Buddha in the realm of the Elves, Elves in the realm of Christianity, and Christianity in the line of a Testimony, which is still upright.
In, which case, I am afraid I may have gone too far. But have I?
First, I might as well tell you about the realm of Yggdrasil, the Favoured Ash. A Tree between Worlds, and... Upholding them..."
Whoa... Thought Andrei the, "Atlas," Tree?... Weird!
"... With some of Adam & Eve's line selling out, for more of the mold/molt, later on, to adjust their benefits by the, "Bene Elohim," in the mund, and not trusting in God's own Way, many have suffered an en-in of the Hell, at the core of the Earth (or any other, for that matter), and an uprising of the unbidden tu-mult, due to our not waiting for the right days under Heaven for fulfillment.
From, which, we might have guessed that the World may have only been bidden for catastrophe.
Anyhow, apparently Apher had existed, fell, and, henceforth, AntiChristianity and Antichrists followed on after.
It has to be noted, that Apher has been said, in prophecy, to return as the, "False-Saviour (in the Future)," while appearing what he isn't, and trying to dupe-fold humanity into believing he's Jesus by, "Dragon Mind-Power," upon his return..."
Juniper, hit a key on her computer. The, “C.”
“C,” is, “Sigmoidal,” she hummed, thrumming a pencil. That being half the Circumference of a Circle....
...
... That, should be where we, “Siec”/”Hack,” our ”Seic”/”Cheque,” modality, she said.
Sick-put, said a Conference Caller on her Native, "In," Network. No-one knew where she was, but she was on the Net with him, to discuss something transitional.
This is what I know, and this is what we'll do, Juniper announced. Juniper used a Chicken Emoji/Picture on the Conference Window of the Computer Screen, typing in, "C Puts a Poult."
They had Headsets on.
Any Poult's a Powt, any Powt's a Put.
The Keys put Pow?
Yes, and those, from what we've been calling, "Chicken Confederate." This Codal Pow, she suggested, means that we, therefore, will have the, "C," represent, "Chicken," as, Pow's Truly Pi, by Circumference, thus, the C-Letterate is our Chicken Con's In, of anything put. CC...
What do we even get from that? asked the man. A Pizza Pie?
As a Pi? Juniper ruled in, Zazz is! "Zazzicchia..." Meaning, “Pork?”
Coded, “Chicken," though?
Mr. Bones?… In-termed Juniper. A Porcelain will come from that Chicken, if you see where I'm heading. The Muc'al/"Cigarette Butt"-Confederate, is Pork, as Muc... But, "All," Bid In, Intraventionally, is not even about Interconsiderate Pow. By now, and in how I see it, by the, "Chicken Put In," Our Dollar, should have been up there. How about I tell you, I'm about to go digging... Anyhow, when I pull this keyboard over, and dream it keyed, I know she's been up to stuff, and Perry is, right about now, up in those Smithsonians. I've been studying, and when they're back on the bac, we gave Andrei in, and the Porcelain's our, "Newly Inconsiderate Doll-In." She's been ba'alin' for too long, anyhow. We'll use those for our Native Hoodoo. Anyhow, we're going to extraventionally bust her, and then, in it, being made. If I get tragic digging and you see me pout... She smirked. You'll know what to do.
Oh no! The conference caller said. You? Rose, NEVER!
Okay... Sent. I just got the Coding done. Sherman’s in on it.
45 minutes later, and she was back at her Grandmother Susan's.
Susan was having some eggnog.
...
Andrei paused for a minute, in what he was reading and gave the whole book a quick once over. Opening it back up again, he made to pick up where he had left off in the Chapter.
The pocket added to the front of the Book, had a Note left in it about this Chapter. He at once opened it, and read it. It read as follows:
~ This story is about sheer luck. ~
"... "Shamrocks," are also called, "Wood Sorrel." Some believe that the, "Shamrock," is lucky, but could a, "Shamrock," make one incapable of feeling harm? Sounds laughable. Though, let me tell you about a little-known Buddhist prayer.
The Buddhists have mantras or chants, but they also have policy. Sharing their mantras with anyone in the West, may also have meant sharing their karma, by the little known classification, known as Group Karma.
As such, they deviate even with their mantras, according to policy, and walk a Middle.
Some of these modern-day mantras, are invented.
One such example, believe it or not, is their, "Balsamic Vinaigrette," mantra. One, in particular, which I believe, was meant to create a, "Shamrock Blessing," for Tobacco Smoke.
It's method, while not being altruistically Buddhist, and while safeguarding The Dalai Lama, who disavows the use of Tobacco Smoke in his purer line of practice, has passed itself off, as merely being, a, "Balsamic Vinaigrette," Prayer.
If you pick up along any of this particular chant's lines, you will undoubtedly find, at least part of the way through, that the mantra of, "Balsamic Vinaigrette," becomes more discernable.
But, "Balsamic Vinaigrette," in all truth, is a mere Salad Dressing.
The irony being, with, "Shamrock," or, "Wood Sorrel (a.k.a. Oxalis Acetosa)," having a written transcription of, "Ox" & "-Alis ("Bull")," and, "Acetoso ("Vinegary")," we can guess, that the meaning of, "Oxalis," more than likely, landed at Ba'al, and was later, made up to be, "Baʿal Šāmayim."
This being, because, they still needed a Ba'al to bless the, "Shamrock Blessing," for the Smoke.
Thus, for the, "Shamrock Blessing," of, "Baʿal Šāmayim," a mention of, "Balsamic Vinaigrette," was found, in the sound layering of this modern-day mantra.
How does that work, for smoking, though?
Firstly, the Scots word, "Balsum," means, "an ample portion of meal, food, or drink." Secondly, smoking is referred to as, "Smoke Drinking."
Therefore, if a "Balsum," of, "Balsam," was ever acceptable in the Buddha, any other type of, "Bowl Offering (i.e. one of Toxins)," is offset, more tactically, or furthermore, more tactically, "dibbed," by a Yin-Yang or Balancing Appropriation, of mantra, "chanting and dispersion." It just depends on who smokes, and why and when they would be paying Buddhist devotions, and to what Buddha, if any would choose to Dib It by The All.
Anyhow, if rare, "Oxalis," comes in a, "Candy Cane," variety (as it is also a flower), the question remains... Does, "Candy Cane," ever show up in a, "Smok?"..."
So we're talking about, "Smok," said Andrei.
Andrei put the Note back into the Pocket, inside the front part of the Book's Cover.
Hang on, said Andrei, checking the back of the Book, before finding the word, "Smok," in its Glossary. It turned out to mean, "Smoke"/"Dragon"...
He then, read on further, in the works of Eldritch Spellbound.
"... 'Menthol And Dragons. The, "Thol," Or, "Suffrage"'.
Men suffer Dragons, and Dragons are Men's suffrage. What does Mankind do, when faced with Dragons or Elementals of the, "Candy Cane," or, "Striped," Variety (i.e. the, "Christendom," type), but slay them?
Why?
Because, Flying Dragon's of Christendom are often, "Fire-Breathers," and thus what we would call, "Moloch-Avian" type, better known by their, "Malkavian Vampire," Cousins.
Both being guilty for the starting of Gehenna or Judaical Hell, they are known to be made up to some serious trouble.
Thus, was the Menthol.
Adversely (and more commonly), Menthol is the Plant, "Mint." Hence, also extrapolates into, "Coin."
"Coin," being, "Quoin," is also, "Cornerstone." Thus, ties into, "Jesus"..."
"... Anything, Mankind's Avarice or Greed, could ever want of a Heaven, has since been put ABOVE the Realm of its very own Suffering...
... That is, for the Keeping of Faith in a Forgiving Saviour, the Having within it a Realm of Hope, and (of course), Giving to Charity..."
Andrei stopped reading for a moment, took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. He was sitting on his bed, with the lamp on and slippers on his feet.
He put the book down, and went to find a pen to write another Note down, on the scrap of paper he had been using as a bookmark.
"... Now, onto the Rock of Satan. My thoughts are, that with many people trading their souls to the, "Bene," over the history of man, for nought of worth, but that the Saviour might, once again, save them... Or, especially, with the truth of it being that there is no replacement for an Heir, but that the Saviour can recover, and not that even He, would… A falsity check, might have once been offered in the, "Mephis Toph," or, "Mephis Stone." Purportedly, one able to render one incapable of feeling pain, once ground up and drunken as a potion.
Though, as we all might have gathered, this surely doesn't last forever, so if anyone were to find one, even if hidden somewhere as some rare form of Bezoar Stone or Mustika Pearl, it would only prove it's worth all the more shallow. For, once you had felt not a pain for your suffering to obtain it from the, "Bene," in the hopes of having a, "Painless Hell," the, "Bene," might have bet that it was by the better placement of that stone, that the suffering was what you were in it for, if you had, indeed, found it.
Thus, what we are left with, only, is a proverbial, "Shamrock."
By the way? Shamrocks, as clovers, are also known to come in different colours..."
The book provided no information as to the colours of shamrocks, so Andrei got up and moved into his armchair, using his smart phone to check the Internet for information. Sure enough, he found a site that verified the claim. They did come in different colours.
...
• Edit: Rumex Acetosa (will mention later. Real ingredient of Asian cigarettes).

I've been a reseller for about 4 years now, the first couple years I would always respond to questions asking for measurements. Now, I just ignore them. Occasionally I will add them to the listing if I feel like the item size isn't accurate, its a weird fit, or something like that. I have never made a single sale because I provided measurements to someone who asked for them. Its probably frustrating for the people who actually are interested on buying, but for me its just been a huge waste of time. I have been providing them more recently and have still found I just get ghosted after posting them. I'm curious how other reseller address these comments. Do you guys take the time to provide measurements, and if so, do you regularly get sales from it?
Added:
I take my photos up against my fireplace, in from of a brick wall with a nail in it to hang the hanger. After reading your guys suggestions I think i’m going to use a yard stick to hold up the the item to provide measurements from now on.

At last night's Irvine City Council meeting a SoCalGas representative made the warning:

• Video, in 3 parts or you can watch the original recording here (skip to about 1:54:00).
• January 13th notice from SCG
• LAT articles, 01/06/23 and 01/09/23; Consumer Watchdog asks for investigation

What I think is most helpful in the short-term are tips to keep your bill as low as possible.
Lower Your Rate/Get Assistance:

• Level Pay Plan
• If you qualify for the CARE program, apply!
• Bill Forgiveness program
• One time grant: Gas Assistance Fund (if you are in a position to & want to donate to the fund you can)
• Do you qualify for lower rates based on a medical condition
• Federal assistance
• Home improvement assistance

Lifestyle Modifications:

• Keep your heater off as much as possible
• Layers! (ex: knee socks, slippers, joggers, long sleeved t-shirt, long-sleeved sweatshirt, wearable blanket, knit cap, etc.)
• Layer your bedding to keep you warm and the heater off (if need be wear socks, knit cap and gloves/mittens when you first get in bed, you'll more than likely wake up having removed those items because you're too warm - bonus, we sleep better in a cool room (with layers of blankets you'll be much warmer than the room temp)
• When it's going to be the coldest, do all of your meal prep cooking at once (even if you have an electric stove do this because it heats up your home and don't forget, electricity costs money too!)
• When cooking don't preheat your empty oven - use that time to cook things such as bacon, potatoes, yams, etc.
• Use small appliances to heat your meals (toaster oven, air fryer, microwave)
• If you are heating your pool & spa, don't!
• If you have a water heater, make sure it's insulated
• I put bubble wrap insulation between the window and the window coverings of the biggest windows in my house when it's cold and during the hottest parts of the year
• Turn your water heater temperature down to 120º
• Do not use your gas fireplace
• If you are really cold and layers aren't helping, take a quick HOT shower (especially helpful before bed)
• Move your body. Obviously certain physical activities generate heat and pleasure so have at it with your consenting partner or alone! You can also find workout or walking videos for free on YT. Just 15 minutes while in your layers to raise your body temperature without sweating goes a long way.
• Open your window coverings during the day for windows facing the sun
• Only wash your clothes in cold water; heat sets stains not to mention they're less apt to fade or shrink so you'll extend the life expectancy of your clothing
• If you need to disinfect, the dryer is your best bet
• Hang your clothes to dry: put clothing from the wash straight onto hangers and then hang them on door frames, shower rod, and/or utilize a tension rod or collapsible drying rack somewhere in your house, if you have a towel warmer it's a great place to dry things
• If you don't like the feel of air dried clothing, still air dry but when they are almost damp, toss them in the dryer - it will be a short time period and it'll give your clothes the feeling you like
• Insulate your garage door if it's attached to your home; I used Reflectix and it was super easy & fast and it keeps my garage warmer in the winter and cooler in the summer which translates to temperature in my home
• Caulk your windows, weather strip your doors; if you have shitty windows (hi!) it's not going to help too much
• Make sure you are changing your furnace filter every 3 months
• If you must turn your heater on, dress in your layers first and set it max of 68º and once it hits that temperature, turn it off
• Consider a ceramic room/space heater; u/CampGrundlestamp recommends a model from Lasko and u/Kayaybee3 shared using a room heater hasn't impacted their electric bill
• Sign up for Weekly Alerts; u/Looey2002 reported doing so helped them reduce their usage

What are your tips?

Hey All! I am wanting to hang my TV over my fireplace, but the 90s made these strange step alcoves. I don't want to use a long arm TV mount (I don't want it to sag over time), so my plan was to use concealed joist hangers to secure a 2x10 closer to the opening so I could use a more traditional TV mount, but still access the space behind it. My husband thinks I'm crazy and that this won't work... Any insight or advice from those more experience with construction?

I am the shadow man. And I want to share something with you. Since the time is right and the holiday spirit is upon us. I will share with you, my fondest memories from holidays past. This time I will be choosing to tell you about my favorite Christmas. Tomorrow is the new year, and I will have another to share. But I will also be out and about as I am every night, keeping an eye on the ones that I like. What will your new resolution be this year?
​
There used to be a boy named Tim. All skin and bone, he was incredibly thin. Sickly and frail, his skin sallow and pale. Everyone prayed for good health and wished he'd get well. But the day would soon come and he would finally die. His parents would wail, they would scream and they'd cry. Without money for the treatments, they could not save his life. And mean old Mr. Morgan, would rather be dead than ever part with a dime..
​
Bob Padgett, was a tough cookie. And as far as underpaid clerks go, he was the best at what he did. As much as he hated who he did it for, he really didn't have another option. Work was hard to come by, and steady jobs were nearly impossible to find. He toiled on without a single complaint, counting and recording the miserly old man' fortune, all the way to the bank.
​
The day before Christmas eve, Bob would ask for an advance. Even though he knew the scrooge of a man all too well, and of that there was hardly a chance. Though it was nearly Christmas, and had never asked before, he shot down the question with no more than a grunt and a glance. "Bah!", and "Humbug!", he exclaimed, as he stared at the flames. The wood in the fireplace it crackled and hissed, and Mr. Morgan grunted out another, "Hmphf", yet again.
​
The shadow that was cast, as he rocked back and forth in his favorite chair, was long and quite wicked, it held on to the chill that hung in the air. But the only monster here, was the one hunched forward and sat in it's chair . He pulled tight the ribbons to close tight the books, and before they could leave he gave him that look. Again with the scowl, and that subzero glance from just above the rims of his wire-framed spectacles. "Humbug I say!", Morgan said, with much more fervor this time, as he began to rise up from his warm oaken throne.
​
He reached out for the wall, grasping for his coat and scarf from the decoratively engraved, wall-mounted hangers. He retrieved his hat from the top of his desk, briskly slapping across the top of it, ridding it of any cumulative dust. His last acquisition before heading for the door, for Mr. Morgan, was his cane. Long, tapered, and black as a moonless night, topped with a decorative silver handle.
​
By the time Mr. Morgan had made it to the door one elderly step after another. Bob had hurried along and doused the fire, tidied up his work station, and beat him to the door. Holding it open for him, all the Christmas killjoy had to do was step his way through the open doorway, and out onto the snow covered walkway. He held back his tall black hat from being blown free of his frail old head. The bitter Easterly wind blowing hard through the streets kicked up wisps of snow, some gusts even blew themselves up into dwarf-sized little snow devils.
​
Bob, pulled the door shut and locked it behind them. He followed after the old man until they reached his flat. A three-storied mansion of a flat, empty most times, aside from the old mans shuffling foot falls. It was quite literally just next door. Only a couple of shops stood between his business office and the door to his flat. After a couple rejected pleasantries and the slamming of the flat door in his face. Bob only made it a few steps before absolutely falling apart. He broke down and wailed at the walls between buildings like a madman. Pounding on the rust colored brick surface until his hands were all but mash.
​
He made it home and inside without stirring any of the children. His wife though, she was up waiting for him. With a glint of hope in her eyes, she had been waiting in the hopes that her husband would come home with great news. At the site of his scabbed over knuckles and bloody fingers, she began to weep, falling over into her pillow to hide the sounds of her caterwauling. The sounds of her muffled sobs were replaced by the sounds of rasp, rough, coughing from the room adjacent to their own. In this room, five of their six children slept. And Martha had recently come down with an awful cold and cough. Both of the parents leapt from the room to the sounds. But they did not turn to the left for the room that slept five of their children. They turned to the right, quietly, mother and father peered through the open doorway.
​
They looked in, on the low flames and glowing embers of their next to last fire. They would need to figure out more wood for tomorrow, they both thought this at the exact same moment in time. Then they moved their combined gazes to the pallet they had made there just near the fire. Where the warmth and comfort was the greatest they had to offer in the Padgett household. It was the only place in the house you couldn't see your breath. There on the floor laid little Timmy. Tim was a good boy. But having to walk with a crutch most of his young life and being deathly ill half the same, he didn't have a bright disposition. He lay still, breathing softly, but steadily, his face red with fever and his eyelids a hollow purplish color. Covers up to his collarbone and a warm rag on his forehead.
​
Mom retrieved the rag without waking him. Probably because he's weak, probably because she had done this a thousand times and by now it was done with the grace of a Samurai Butterfly. She replaced it with another she had waved through the air a few times to cool down. They returned to their room, and within minutes they were both hard asleep. Bob had the most bizarre dream of his life that night, something to do with shadows, and losing something precious, that he wouldn't find no matter how hard he ever looked.
​
He awoke with the start of his life too. At first wail he didn't know for sure what it was or what had woke him with such a sudden jolt. But a few seconds later, dear old mom had caught a second breath. And it must of been the deepest she had drawn in her entire life, because the length and pitches of the scream that followed, ripped the heart right out of Bob' chest like a rubber band stretched back a mile and let loose. The way it snapped back in his throat instantly triggered his gag reflex. He vomited next to the bed and jumped to his feet, landing in his own mess and slipping to the floor. He looked as his disgusting hands as he got back to his feet.
​
He knew before he got there, brushing past his two oldest on the way. But the reality didn't hit until his eyes landed on his wife, draped over the dead body of their youngest child. Tim had died in his sleep on Christmas Eve. A few hours later Mr. Morgan sat at his desk, doing his best impressions of a turtle, trying to pull his head and neck down into his shoulders. Just outside the doors, the sound of Bob breaking down through the worst moments he would likely ever live through, struck him over and over again. A half-hearted broken sound followed closely by a thump on the doors or the storefront. And Mr. Morgan knew, their son, "What was the name?", he thought to himself, must have finally died. He didn't understand all the fuss though, "It was an expected death, wasn't it?", "He would give Bob the day", he decided, to grieve if he need, or to make preparations.
​
That night, Morgan would have the worst nightmare of his life. He woke with such a start he thought he may be the next one to earn the undertaker a dime. What was it? Something about shadows? And losing something he would certainly never be able to find. The next thing he was certain of was that he could of sworn he saw something out the corner of his eye. Through the sheer, almost invisible, cloth bug-netting around his bed, he thought he saw something go past his bedchamber door.
​
A shadow..
​
I am the entity, come in the form of another. There in the doorway stood a monster. It had to be a monster because Tim was dead. Yet there he stood, unmistakably hobbled and leaning on his crutch. No more than darkness in the shape of a young boy, silhouetted in the doorway. And stretched out across the bedchamber floor before him, was the shadow. But not the shadow of a boy, it was the shadow of a pointed hulking monster. Black as tar and dominating the floor space, the shadow of something horrible. something wrong.
​
The slamming of the door to Mr. Morgan' bedchamber was heard by the closest neighbors that night. One of them said they thought for sure they had heard a scream in the night, around the same time they had heard the loud crashing sound of a door being splintered on it's frame. The next morning they noticed the police presence.
​
Mr. Morgan had been discovered Christmas morning, by his nephew Frederick. He had come to try and convince the old axe to come to Christmas dinner, even though his pleadings fell on deaf ears every year. He still liked to see his grumpy uncle on Christmas, even if he was turning him down on his invitation to dinner every year. His annual visit this year was the surprise of a lifetime. And at the same time, without a doubt the worst thing he would probably ever lay his eyes on.
​
The sight of Mr. Morgan was abhorred and terrifying. His jaw slung open and distended, open far wider than humanly possible without a complete dislocation of the jaw. His tongue lay out over the side of a cheek, his hands wrenched tight with two fists full of his sleep top. It gave the instant impression that he had been scared to death. Frightened so deeply and so completely that the scream would dislocate his own jaw and his heart would fail. The police captain and the medical examiner would not know what to make of it. The death certificate would read natural causes, a heart attack.
​
I wanted to share one of my fondest holiday memories with all of you. I am the shadow man. And sometimes a universal injustice must be undone, or perhaps it was a universal justice, be done. Either way I hope you enjoyed! Sweet dreams to all and to all a good night..

Chapter 1 with Book Blurb Next Chapter
---
The Capital’s most popular inn didn’t look the part. It was small, built from the same mud brick as the rest of the city, but its wooden stable was triple the typical size. Plenty of travelers slept on its roof both for the cool breeze and lack of vacancies. It was more than old enough to be well established, with many local stories putting its founding before the Capital’s walls. Inside, the mudbrick glowed a gentle amber from the one cooking fire at the center of the room, and the wicks on every table. Patrons rested on the haphazard pillows and tables, all made of varying wood and cloth. There were travelers, merchants, tradesmen, and a single bronze clad warrior.
Though the Capital had many public houses for drinks, Dhanur was more comfortable and familiar with the rancor of a wayward inn.
Tendrils of her clay red hair fell from inside her black hood and emphasized the same undertones in her deep brown skin. Her complexion was a much richer and deeper hue than most other southern patrons and the guards atop the wall, like all Uttaran northerners. There were only three like her at the inn, a single group of traders with the facial markings of their clans while Dhanur had none. Most were the typical sandy southern Daksinian brown, with a few fairer traders from far afield even lighter than those from further south bringing their wares in from the western ports.
An entire tunic of scaled bronze protected Dhanur’s torso while the rest of her armor was various findings made of leather shoddily tailored to fit. They were scuffed but shining with oil. She was barely at her twenty–seventh summer, but her resplendent bronze set her apart from the typical adventurers and travelers her age who could only boast similarly scarred leather. No one had any bronze beyond a belt loop or an ax head.
She sat alone at her table. No one dared to be near her since anyone permitted or skilled enough to don such things was best not quarreled with.
Janurana entered, escorted inside by an exiting patron who so kindly held the tarp up for the young woman, then went to calm his bull. She stood straight as a spear, twisting the thick fabric of her parasol as she held it low in front of her. Peeling one hand from her vice like embrace of the parasol, she pushed her hair from her face and surveyed the room. She quickly scanned each patron but eventually landed on the armored figure that stood out. Her eyes widened.
She began to leave, seeing a warrior like the gate captain, but paused as Dhanur drunkenly waved her bow at an unfortunate man who accidentally bumped her. She didn’t even look up. Janurana blinked at that. The information obtained from the townsfolk would be safer, but less valuable than that from a warrior.
‘A drunk talks easier. She may not even remember talking tomorrow. Okay. I can do this. They might not even look at me,’ Janurana thought to herself.
“Excuse me, miss? You’re blocking the doorway, miss,” the innkeeper called as two men tried to squeeze around Janurana. They did their best to not touch her as they did.
She hadn’t noticed. “Sorry. My apologies,” she said as she bowed, slipping into the fire’s threshold.
As Janurana approached Dhanur's table, she felt the gazes of the men and women around her. Most went back to their conversations as she wasn’t too odd compared to the other patrons with their varied skin tones, haphazard armors, or queer foreign garb. But a few lingered, wondering what a higher–class woman was doing in the lower class section of the city. A northerner sneered.
Once at Dhanur’s table, Janurana did her best to keep her composure and started to bow, then hesitated, and instead sat softly on the pillow beside the slumped pile of armor and alcohol. Janurana leaned her parasol against the table, symmetrical with Dhanur’s bow and quiver, and adjusted her sari so she could sit properly. But Dhanur didn’t react. Instead, she mumbled to herself, occasionally twitching or rolling her head.
Janurana sucked her teeth.
“Pardon me!” Janurana raised her hand, calling for the innkeeper with a veil of excitement. “May I have a drink?”
“Yes, of course you can. What kind?” The innkeeper bowed.
Dhanur raised her hand to interject.
“Ahh…” she stammered. “Ya know. This.” Dhanur waved her hand as if her actions would summon the words and scoffed at the new woman’s ineptitude.
Janurana blushed.
“Yes, right away,” he said.
Janurana sighed in relief as he hurried off to remove the lid from an urn of drink. She turned to Dhanur whose arm then fell with a thud. Her table and nearby patrons leapt at the sound.
“Thank you, sir.” Janurana bowed.
Dhanur started up, having just noticed Janurana had sat next to her and not at another table. The trill of her ‘r’s made Dhanur take a moment to process what was said through her inebriation.
“I’m not a man.” Dhanur slowly met Janurana’s gaze. She furrowed her strong brows, a thick scar cleaving her right one in two. Dhanur’s face curled into an offended scowl that accentuated her pointed features, less rounded than most Uttarans.
Janurana pressed her lips together. She bowed once more, her hair falling to block her face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t—”
“It’s… Whatever,” Dhanur sighed and slumped again. She let her hand slide to the floor, no longer reaching for her bow to shoo the woman off.
“Well. I’m Janurana. May I ask your name?” She gave a soft smile.
“No.”
“Oh. Mm.” Janurana’s face fell. The innkeeper placed Janurana’s drink in front of her gently and bowed. She returned the gesture with a smile but then drummed her nails on the ceramic cup, filled with the typical light beer that every inn served.
“’Cause it’s not for you to know.” Dhanur rolled her head on the table, sighing. “But you can call me Dhanur ‘cause, ya know.” With considerable effort, she nodded to her Kalia bone bow. “I’m a dhanur.”
Janurana was astounded at such a piece of craftsmanship and status, despite its size being closer to that of a child’s than a soldier’s. It was even more exquisite up close, but before she could reconcile its potential value to the treasures she had known in her youth, Dhanur continued.
“I like my name. It’s what I do, use a bow…” she slurred, correcting herself. She furrowed her brows again to think hard about her next words.
“You must have done such work for the Maharaj to earn that bow and armor,” Janurana raised her inflection at the end.
Dhanur’s eyes shot open. “No. I made this.” She didn’t slur a single word.
“And the armor?” Janurana pressed, hesitantly.
“What’s with these questions?” Dhanur sat up, towering over Janurana. She glared down at the smaller woman, scrutinizing her.
It was similar to how the gate captain examined Janurana, but she buckled. Dhanur’s stare contained hints of surprise, curiosity, and distrust.
“Pardon me, madam Dhanur.” Janurana rose from her pillow.
“No.” Dhanur snatched Janurana’s wrist with her gloved hand. “No. No. It’s fine. Sorry.” She slurred her speech again and let go of Janurana, took a sip of her drink, then put her head back down on the table.
Janurana looked around the inn. There were no other guards around, and all the patrons looked like common folk. Janurana thought about that. She hadn’t been taken away by any official she had seen, and the bronze clad woman smelled slightly different from the captain who greeted her and the tax collector who approached her. Dhanur’s scent was rather homely, like spiced chai.
Janurana sat back down and the rest of the inn got back to their drinks.
“I must say, you seem quite out of place among these common people,” Janurana said.
Sitting up straight had caused Dhanur a surge of headache, so she had laid on the table again and could only roll her head to look over. The mill wheel in her mind gave an almost audible grind as she processed what Janurana might mean. “Wha? I am common people.”
Janurana took her turn eying the other woman up and down, then shifted from side to side. “No, you’re not.” She tilted her head.
“Uh, yeah, I am?” Dhanur drug out her words with condescension, as if her circumstances should be obvious. “They,” she paused, stared forward for a second longer, and downed the whole of her drink, “kicked me outta that class after the Uttarans surrendered. Stupid Light lost nobles.” She punctuated her cursing with another sip but groaned at her empty cup.
“Really?” Janurana willfully ignored Dhanur’s condescending tone. “The nobles.”
Dhanur growled at the word.
“What are they like?”
“They’re the same ‘s any others?”
Janurana mumbled incoherently to herself and slipped into her own thoughts. ‘Dhanur’s still allowed to keep her armor. She’s not wrapped up with the nobility… And they’re no different. Perhaps the gwomoni left them alone to serve as vassals…’
“Wait.” Dhanur blinked at Janurana’s sari and parasol, evidently just noticing them and sat up. “Aren’t you one of them?” Her eyes narrowed.
Janurana sighed and frowned at her clearly well-worn clothes. “I was.”
Dhanur’s inebriated mind proceeded at a tortoise’s pace as she thought about the situation too. She could tell Janurana was not a noble anymore but was born one, which would mean that she’s out of favor. The nobles in the keep only ostracized traitors, if they weren’t dead already.
‘So, she couldn’t be with them,’ Dhanur thought.
‘You’re going in circles,’ said a secondary voice in Dhanur’s head.
She blurted out the first separate thought that came to mind. “Ya look like people I knew.”
“Oh?” Janurana seized on that. “People you liked, I hope?”
“One of ‘em I did. Used to…” She sank to the table.
“Hey!” The northerner who sneered when Janurana entered stormed towards the two with eyes fixed on Janurana. He bore the tan and white t–shaped tattoos across his forehead, around under his cheekbones drawn down to the sides of his chin marking him as Clan Macaque. His two compatriots struggled to stay in front of him, trying to push him back to their table and begging him in the Uttaran tongue to sit down. One had the brandings of Clan Fish with the red gills on their neck but the other had no such markings, labeling them as a clanless porter.
“Good evening,” Janurana said. She glanced back at Dhanur, the only acquaintance she’d made.
“Go away.” Dhanur’s words fell out of her with a tired rumble. She sighed and turned her back to the situation, rolling her eyes. “Light lost northerner.”
“Traitor!” The northern man flinched. Rage boiled behind his glare, but he dared not even look Dhanur in the back of the head. He waited until she had stopped moving before ordering his friends between her and Janurana with a nod.
“Sorry, sorry,” the Clan Fish muttered in the Daksinian language, still cowering and pleading with the Clan Macaque to leave. The other was willing himself to disappear into thin air as every southerner in the inn was watching them.
Janurana could pick up that the aggressor’s name was Ilanlan just before he glared both of his friends down and they shakily became his shield.
“Stiff,” Ilanlan curled his nose as he looked Janurana over. He struggled to parse the Daksinian words he knew through his inebriation and Uttaran accent, making some of his consonants too soft and combining some vowels. “Showiest. So what? Dance in, looking better than us. Daksin burned the Borderlands, now gotta remind our place?” Ilanlan thumped his large chest, as if inviting the much smaller Janurana to hit it. “We will give you fruit for cowries and gems, but not enough?!”
“I’m sorry? I wasn’t da—”
“Spirits haunt you!” He spat at her and every southerner present either shifted on their pillow, put down their drink, or reached for whatever weapon they had.
“Bunch’a people died in raids before we fought. Don’t make the war special. Nobody cares who died anymore. Quit being an asshole,” Dhanur groaned, gritting her teeth. She tried to reach for her bow but gave up when she didn’t touch it immediately.
Ilanlan’s friends jumped as she spoke and again as she moved. They warily watched the southerners on all sides and slipped back to their muscled companion. Ilanlan was too enraged to notice.
“Daksin forgot the war?! Not special?! Your lands burn too and you forget?! No normal war! No honor war! Fires! Iranra was a brave man! He died better you all! You all were stuck in mud to carry ladders, he did not die so– so,” he didn’t know the southern word. “My brother died, but he fought and killed, your warriors fell to him, not your forced soldiers. Southerners forced to fight,” he scoffed. “But he would still pick fruit today! You all invaded!” Ilanlan had occasionally addressed Dhanur in his rage, but instead screamed full tilt at Janurana. “You gwomoni start the fires!”
Janurana wiped a fleck of spit from her cheek with a revolted flick that blocked the word gwomoni from hitting her ears.
Seeing her flinch at all, Ilanlan smirked “Ha! Gwomoni hate spit, no wonder we do so!” he said to his friends who were trying to placate the ring of southerners closing in on them with every hand gesture and sympathetic frown they could make.
Janurana could only stammer, dumbfounded at the disrespect, but the word gwomoni settled into her and her stammering stopped.
Dhanur groaned loudly, slamming her hands into the table with more force than she realized. The northerners jumped in unison as she stumbled to her feet and shakily grabbed her bow, hoping to wave the annoyances away.
Both of Ilanlan’s compatriots threw their arms out, rushing past Janurana and yelling “sorry” to both her and the entire inn. The second they touched her, however, Dhanur’s eyes instantly shifted from a drunken glaze to a sharp focus. She leapt back and knocked into her table, but did not stumble. She easily leapt onto it instead. Before they realized she wasn’t in front of them anymore, Dhanur struck. The spiked notch on her bow sliced into the flesh of their legs as she swept it under their outstretched arms. She leapt over them as they screamed and struck again as she did, thrusting the spike into her nearest enemy's shoulder, and pushed them both back. They slumped over her table and knocked over the cups.
Dhanur slowly released the breath she had been methodically inhaling as she moved. But the focus faded from her eyes. She grimaced at her fallen foes who were apprehensive to begin with, then shook her head at the pang of headache, and drunkenly drew an arrow to aim at Ilanlan.
He threw up his hands as if to swat away the arrow. As he stepped back, he didn’t even glance at his fallen allies. His eyes darted to and fro, trying to find something for a shield, only to bump into a southerner who smashed a cup over his head. Ilanlan barely flinched, unable to look away from Dhanur’s eyes. They were heavy again and her sharp focus was fading back into a drunk dullness, but he didn’t dare say or do anything to provoke that look again.
“We’ve got him!” two southern brickmakers yelled, grabbing one of his arms.
As a southern mercenary went to bury his ax into Ilanlan’s leg, the northerner snatched it mid-swipe and wrenched it from the mercenary’s grasp without a second thought. He slashed at the brickmakers, who both leapt aside just in time, one taking the smallest cut on his hand.
“Just go already! You wanna die here?” Dhanur groaned, her head still throbbing. She struggled to keep her arrow drawn.
Until the Clan Fish northerner groaned particularly loud. Dhanur flinched in surprise and accidentally loosed her arrow right into Ilanlan’s leg. He collapsed, shouting a myriad of curses. The rest of the inn didn’t make a noise, half expecting him to rip the arrow out and use it as another weapon. Dhanur curled her expression into a pained wince and sighed, then jogged over. She was about to kneel and help Ilanlan up, but he swatted at her with the ax.
“Go to a temple, get Light to heal.” She stepped back, grimacing at the arrow lodged in his leg, which she’d rather lose than an arm.
“Your Light. It burned … Borderlands.” Ilanlan spat at her.
Dhanur’s eyes flared. “That was not—” she stopped herself.
“Spirits… provide…” Ilanlan tried to get on his feet, but his leg refused to move.
“Ugh. Fine.” Dhanur nodded to the other Uttarans who were about to be seized by other patrons. “Let them go.”
“What?” scoffed a woman with a larger right arm than her left, marking her for a dhanur as well. “Are you dowsing crazy?!”
“I said let ‘em go… They’re just… Drunk. Angry.” Dhanur couldn’t say another word. Her head pounded again, less than before but still too much.
Janurana had leapt away right when the fighting started, gripping her parasol while she focused on the maimed people at her feet, and more specifically, the blood. It leaked between the bricks, oozing slowly towards the carpets. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t take her eyes off it.
The clanking of bronze on bronze rattled through the windows as the city guards rushed to the commotion.
“Sorry,” Dhanur said to the northerners who were failing to peel themselves off the floor. She took hold of Janurana’s arm and dragged her towards the exit, stopping only to dig a small fistful of cowrie shells and precious jewels from her belt’s satchel to toss them to the cowering innkeeper.
As the pair fled the inn, a pair of bronze capped city guards rushed past to apprehend the ones who’d caused the disturbance. They did their best to stem the bleeding and wipe up any spilled blood before dragging Ilanlan and his compatriots away. Dhanur pulled the silent Janurana by the upper arm, leading her down the maze of side streets to the main way, dust kicking up behind them.
“How long do you think it’ll take them to clean that up?” Janurana asked. She still fixed her gaze in the inn's direction and what would be staining the floor inside.
They stopped right at the edge of the paved road.
“I don’—Well—That’s your first question?” Dhanur sighed and went to rub her head, only to clonk her bow into it. Frustrated at her own clumsiness, she squeezed its grip for a quick moment, the throb in her head subsiding. “Since you were at the inn, I guess ya need someplace to sleep? If ya want, you can stay at my house.”
Janurana wormed her fingers into Dhanur’s, who still held her arm. She let out an awkward chuckle and hissed lightly through her teeth, not knowing for sure if she had fallen into the fire from the pan. She, again, caressed her parasol, keeping it close and low to her person. “I thought you and people like me weren’t on the best of terms.”
“You're not one anymore, right?” Dhanur pinched her nose.
“Obv—No.” Janurana awkwardly stiffened.
“Then, it’s fine then,” she sighed. “I maimed three people who’re definitely gonna, ya know, and I think…” Dhanur put one foot on the main way and tapped it, the sound of her heavy boot echoing through the city.
Janurana smiled, even if the loud noise made her flinch almost instinctively. “You’ve showcased your gallantry?”
Dhanur sighed, her more opaque skin keeping her blush in check. “You need somewhere to go and I’d be a dowsin’ terrible person if I left you there so, y’ know.”
Janurana responded with a giggle and bow. “Then I suppose I owe you my gratitude, madam warrior.”
“S’what I should do. Couldn’t sleep otherwise. Just… Come on. Sleep in my guest room. It’s safe and soft, um, Clean. Yeah.” Turning again to lead the way, she paused, raised her arm behind Janurana to motion her forward, and give a semblance of protection.
From atop the charred husk of a tree, still tall even as its last few leaves fell away, a translucent, silvery blue figure watched the pair. Between flickers from the wall’s bonfires, it vanished again as quickly as it appeared.
***
Janurana let out a comforted sigh as they passed the first building with a second floor. Dhanur led her off the main road, worming through the haphazard alleys up the city’s incline. Janurana enjoyed the increasingly ostentatious houses. Some had dyed cotton curtains or plush pillows on their rooftops just for lounging rather than sleeping. Others painted the walls with family histories or extravagant flourishes of color for its own sake. The communal gardens of the lower sections transitioned to personal oases of flowers and fruiting bushes. She tried to focus on the sights as she heard the northerners being taken up the main way. Dhanur either didn’t hear or didn’t care.
To Janurana’s surprise, they slipped by quite a few two-story homes, a couple with covered porches, before reaching Dhanur’s. It was two floors as well, the second smaller than the first, bone white cotton curtains fluttering through the windows, and a door embossed with bronze and a clay red painting of a bow to indicate whose home it was.
Dhanur fumbled with the peg that kept it closed. But once she succeeded she stumbled forward, forgetting that the door would no longer support her weight when opened.
Janurana tried to reach for her but balked as Dhanur recovered.
“I’m fine. C’mon in,” Dhanur bade her entry.
Her home wasn’t the typical sty one would expect of a staggering drunk. Dhanur’s dwelling was well organized and practical with few things out of place on the table near the hearth or around the support pillars for the second floor. Beyond the utilitarian were shelves of dusted clay tablets, flowering shrubs in painted ceramic pots bearing bright red fruit, and trinkets, both exotic and ornate, which showcased the eclectic interests of an apparently well–traveled woman. Uttaran spear heads inlaid with gem-like swirls of color, withered branches from far off forests, a mountain goat horn, a ring embossed with five rubies, a statuette with a lion’s head, a simple broken cup and brick, all had a place of display.
Janurana followed close behind but called Dhanur to a halt by placing her hand on her back.
“Ah, do you need to extinguish those embers?” she muttered.
The embers of a once proud fire were twinkling away in Dhanur’s hearth. She flickered her weary gaze to Janurana, then back at the fire. All she could do was groan, finally realizing what it was she had forgotten when she left the house. Something new stood between her and her bed. She put down her bow, stomped forward, preparing herself, then turned her stomps to the ashes. Janurana watched her frustration as the ashes spread. With concern stifling any humor, she doused them with a splash from the jug of water next to the hearth.
“The house is, ya know, brick. It wasn’t gonna… fire.” Dhanur took off her spackled boot.
“You still should have—”
“So, here’re the stairs.”
Dhanur nearly crawled to the second floor, encouraged to show Janurana the guest room before falling asleep right there.
It was smaller and homier than the first. A skylight illuminated the sitting area that made up almost the entire second floor in the moon’s purple light. A cedar wood table practically melted into the cotton tarp below it with a small potted plant in the center and a pillow on the side, slightly askew showing use. The few goblets set on the trunk made it clear the rest were inside. Along the walls were tarps of paintings of Light miracles, an embroidered pattern of countless geometric shapes blending together to create a soaring eagle, multiple road signs to prove where she had been, and a single large window, leading out to the roof with a ladder up to the second floor’s roof.
“Alrigh’, so guest.” Dhanur motioned to the left, then advanced to the other doorway. “Me.”
“Understood. Thank you so much for letting me rest here,” Janurana said, bowing deeply with her hands together.
Dhanur remembered her manners and bowed with two fists pressed together instead and walked backwards through the tarp leading to her bedroom without rising.
Allowed to drop her rigid decorum, Janurana giggled before taking a single long breath. She tilted her head up and her eyes fluttered closed. Even under her boots she could feel the plush tarp of brushed cotton covering the floor. She opened her eyes slowly, taking in the violet rays from the sky light bouncing off the walls, removed her boots, and let out a ragged sigh when her toes met the rug. Such a treasure was as wonderful as she remembered.
The softness of it transported her to childhood when she would lay on a not so different rug, while her mother carved message after important message into clay slabs. The night wind would blow through the gem–colored curtains and Janurana would play with her small jade figurines while her mother worked. The fire would crackle, making the only sound in the room with her toys softly padding across the cotton. It was joined with the periodical rustling of her mother’s skirt as she moved to and from the fireplace to set the tablets to harden. Mother would pat her head before she sat back down and Janurana would wait and wait, watching the tablets dry, playing on a rug just like the one in Dhanur’s home.
Suddenly, Janurana’s back seized. A flash of pale blue took over her vision. She spun, prepared to spring out the window and sprint off into the night, but Janurana saw the staircase. There was no pale blue sliver flickering in the distance.
She shoved the memory aside, she would not allow it to become tainted like the others.
Janurana remembered there was a whole guest room open for her. The plain cotton curtains were so different from the colorful ones in her childhood home and the bed was half the size she had been accustomed to, but that was a far memory. Any bed was a luxury.
She surveyed the guest room, with a more objective eye, noting the placement of furniture. Dhanur’s eye for decorations showed even more with trinkets on the shelves and walls. One was a woodblock carving of a sleeping woman and another a sign that read in the pointed Daksinian script “cotton fields”. The bed rested in the embrace of moonlight against the wall. Without missing a beat Janurana strode over and fell face first into it, shuttering at the scent of cleanliness. Janurana hadn’t sunk into anything so soft since the mud she slept in last rainy season. She frowned at how the blanket wasn’t as quality as the rug. Janurana wondered if Dhanur was keeping a nice one for herself, then chastised herself for such a rude thought towards her host.
She noticed flakes of dirt coming off her sari, hopped off the bed, dusting it clean, and searched for sleepwear. She looked through the trunk at its base gently, so as not to seem like she was rummaging even though no one was around to judge.
Janurana began her routine, half amazed she remembered it after all the nights in the Outside. She undressed, folded her clothes, slipped on a nightgown, and closed the curtains as tightly as she could. She nearly walked out of the room before pausing, thinking she should probably ask permission to use her host’s tub.
There was a small saucer of water in the room's corner. It wasn’t much, but Janurana took to it like a starving wolf. She spent what felt to her like an eternity rinsing off her face, relishing in the feeling as well, running her fingers down her unblemished cheeks, trying to remember what pimples felt like. Once she finished, she sat on the bed, then collapsed back onto it. Her massive plume of hair acted like a second cushion. It wasn’t washed and that fact kept her from instantly passing out. She hoped there would be time to wash it later.
Taking all excess pillows, Janurana made a wall on the bed facing the window and wrapped herself tightly in the blanket before laying her head on the last pillow. Her night should have been restless with Dhanur arguing with her armor in the other room. She hadn’t taken it off before flopping into her bed and would jerk awake, loudly complaining before passing out again.
But Janurana found sound rest hard to come by for another reason entirely. She could still catch Ilanlan’s scent wafting through the city. She moved to the window, focusing on him. It was almost as easy to hear him yelling as it was to smell him despite being beyond the web of houses and Ilanlan off in the main way. She could parcel out the smell of fruits and sugar, typical to every northerner as was the concoction of scents she could never place, having never made it past the Borderlands between Daksin and Uttara. His combative voice polluted the sweet, sleepy sounds of the city. Ilanlan was easier to hear as Janurana honed in on his scent. He railed in Uttaran about Dhanur and his wound. Janurana heard him shout “traitor” in Daksinian over and over. The clanless northerner meekly said “rest” a few times to the guards dragging them but Ilanlan pushed them aside. He demanded his friends go free, since he was the one who started the fight. It was hard enough to drag the mountain of a northern man, let alone two hangers on, so the guards relented. Ilanlan meekly said “sorry” to his friends before he was taken away.
Janurana drummed her nails on the window. She wasn’t hungry, but her appetite was growing. And it was doubtful the smaller northerners would survive long in the Daksinian Capital with their wounds, let alone stagger across the borderlands home.
She sighed deeply and slipped back into her sari.

So, I've been doing a voyager run on the new region. Spawned in Broken Railroad, looted one building, and immediately went to travel towards the new region. The transition zones are pretty good and the railroad station has the possibility of even being a base. What we are mostly here for, though, is the Forsaken Airfield.
I've really enjoyed myself so far! Loot is plentiful, but it certainly feels like the difficulty of voyager has skyrocketed in this region. While I have some of the best clothes in the game, my inability to find a rifle has lead to some difficulty staying alive! I've found two bows, two revolvers, and ammo for both! I've found multiple tools, manufactured and handmade, as well. Food has been decent, but I'm currently out of preserved food and now have to finally put this bow to good use.
Depending on where you base, hunting is either a chore or pretty easy. There is the airfield's hanger, which has a workbench AND a forge in the basement, but you can't cook indoors. Rabbits spawn nearby and deer are not too far, but the lack of an indoor fireplace is a dealbreaker for me. The building is also too big for my tastes.
Then you have the single story cabin, which I honestly did not stay in long, but it seems to be fairly good. It is not that far from an ice fishing hut. A very cozy location, but too far from the airfield for my tastes. Then there is the Mindful Cabin, the two-story cabin.
That cabin has been my go-to base for some time now and it is very cozy. I am about a quarter, maybe half if a blizzard or glimmering fog try to vibe check me, of a day away from the airfield. Right below the cliff face is where rabbits can spawn and the ice fishing hut is a similar distance away as to the airfield. Larger game like deer is much further away, though, and you run into the risk of running into wolves. In fact, a wolf pack has kept me from feeling comfortable with going fishing as they can smell my smelly ass from a mile away.
That brings me to something I didn't expect, though, and that is how cattails have saved my ass. This little resource that I only began to pick up on a whim has saved my well fed ass on multiple occasions, allowing me to hunt game with my bow without losing my well fed bonus until I move all my stuff into my new base.
While I have not fully explored the map yet, I am certainly enjoying it! It is a little bit too big for my tastes, there being way too much open space, but what can you expect from an airfield? Bear and moose seem to spawn as well, so you could very well survive for 500 days in this region thanks to the forge and workbench along with every animal spawning. I've yet to map out any areas near the junker's trailer, so maybe there is a bunch of stuff I've missed? Who knows!

We have a huge stone fireplace (stone goes up to the ceiling) with an 8’ mantle made from an oak tree. I want to hang a huge wreath over the mantle, but my husband says I’m not allowed to nail anything into the stone (understandably). I tried looking online to see if there are wreath stands, but all I can find are small purse hangers (which are the right shape but not size). We would likely want the stand to be at least 4’ high. Does anyone have any thoughts on how we could DIY this, or alternate methods for securing the wreath? I am not at all handy but my husband and father-in-law are very. Thank you!!

I cannot express to you how bored I am at work right now. Here we go, from Worst to Best:
Love and Monsters - I find it so funny that one of the worst and one of the best episodes are in the Doctor-light format, proving that its not the framework of this episode that makes it so bad, it truly is just that awful. To start with, the broad concept isn't inherently bad - the idea of a group of UFO hunting paranormal investigators teaming up to research the Doctor and the idea of an alien infiltrating said group to find him are both solid. The problem is the tone, which is just so out of touch. I get they were going for tongue-in-cheek, but they missed by a wide margin and landed squarely in trashy territory. The Scooby-Doo homage is cringey, and the ending joke about a man getting sucked off by cement tile with a face is just bizarre. I know the monster was designed by a child, which is a fun idea, but they could've picked a better entry because watching Peter Kay run around in a green fat suit is way too reminiscent of the Doctor Who joke in the finale of Extras. Fear Her - I don't actually hate the concept, I like the idea of a Twilight Zone homage. The kid with godlike powers that everyone has to walk on eggshells around. The execution is what lets it down. The living scribble, the bad kid actress, the s l o w pace. The real killing blow however is the Doctor running with the Olympic torch while the announcer talks about how he's carrying love. Good grief. Even for RTD it was beyond cheese. Fun fact, Fear Her and Love and Monsters aired back to back. What a grim fortnight to be a Doctor Who fan. The Lazarus Experiment - I really did not enjoy this episode. Its trying to be a homage to a classic "Mad scientist plays God and becomes a monster" tale but end of the day its a really cheesy story, with uninteresting family drama re:Martha's boring family, and ends with a man turning into a Scorpion. As a kid I remember actually being embarrassed watching it. Daleks in Manhattan/Evolution of the Daleks - I may be biased here. I still vividly remember how disappointed I was a kid, waiting so long for a resolution to the Daleks escape at the end of Season 2 to be resolved, only for it to be this. Like almost all these episodes, I don't hate ideas that are here. The idea of a Dalek going rogue, trying to evolve, and then failing due to the bigotry s of its own people is pretty classic. But the design of the Human Dalek is so distracting, and I honestly don't think there was enough material for this to be a two parter, which cripples the pace. There are also some niggles throughout, setting it in America was ambitious but clearly a bit too much for the time they made it. The accent are very hammy, and the constant use of low angle shots to hide the British backdrop was never convincing. The scenes in Central Park in particular never stopped feeling like they just went out to a field by the studio. The creation and quick kill of the Human Dalek, followed by the Doctor giving a speech on genocide, was also the first time I felt the episodes were leaning on big speeches to wrap things up a bit too often. We do have Andrew Garfield, future Spider-man, playing a bit part in these episodes which is funny to see. The Stolen Earth / Journey's End - My least favourite ending story. For what it does right, it sends off Donna on a very strong note. As for what it does wrong? Kinda everything else. Its a big clusterfuck of a story with too much happening. The big draw being crossing over with Torchwood (the adult focused spin off) and The Sarah Jane Adventures (the kid focused spin off). That mattered little too me, I thought the former was edgy garbage and was too old for the latter. The big problem though, is how it undoes and botches Rose's ending. Not only do we have a fakeout death for the Doctor (a big no-no for any writer), but ending it with making a clone that Rose immediately falls in love with felt so wrong. It was the show trying to have its cake and eat it too, while pleasing no one. And if you were looking forward to at at least Davros coming back, well he doesn't do anything. The Sound of Drums / The Last of the Timelords - There's only one reason to watch this story and it's Jon Simm. He is batshit, acts like a cartoon character, and is the only engaging part of this bafflingly weird story. I don't think I have to lay out exactly what is wrong with it do I? From the ugly CGI goblin Doctor, to Martha's boring family popping back up to play an important role for some reason, to Doctor being resurrected by the love of people around the world. I cant imagine what they were thinking here. Just watch the scene of The Master dancing to "I can't decide" and give this one a skip. 42 - Boring. Like all of Chibnall's episodes, and bad sign of things to come in his run.
Gridlock - This ones okay, not much I can say about it. The idea of revisiting the underbelly area from a previous season is interesting, and something I'd actually like to see more often. Still, its hard to rate it too highly when its concept of "trapped in a small area with an unseen monster" was ultimately done so much better down the road. Also, a bit of a waste of Dougal. Planet of the Dead - Another story that borrows a lot from "The Drifting Classroom", its a solid idea executed without much flair or interest. The big issue is the likability or interest of the fellow passengers, in that there isn't any. New Earth - Another, fine standard episode. It's fun to see Cassandra again, and appearances from the Face of Boe are always a treat. Still, I always struggle to remember what exactly happens in this one. Its not bad just very okay. Doctor's Daughter - Its not that its particularly bad, but the conceit of the episode is very fanfictiony. I dread the day they eventually follow up on its cliff-hanger. Voyage of the Damned - Is this controversial? I feel like if you dont care about the star power, there's not much offered here. Its pretty by the books. The idea of the worst person of the group being the only one who survived is interesting, but its more a punchline than an important narrative point. The Sontaran Stratagem / The Poison Sky - This earns a few extra points because the Sontaran's are always a very fun villain when they appear, and the joke where the incel is shot down for proposing repopulating the earth. Its just a shame so much of this story is dedicated to that whiny teen genius. Its RTD's era at its kost "Kids show" I feel, just a really silly plot with silly characters and a underwhelming conclusion. Unicorn and the Wasp - There's probably no other episode that feels as much as a rushed first draft as this one. The idea of Doctor Who doing a love letter to Agatha Christie is fantastic, and something they actually pull off much better in a later season. The references to Christie's work is fun, and I enjoy how The Doctor is a fan. But, and you knew this was coming, the giant wasp is very lame. The writer's themselves even admitted to phoning this one in, they added the wasp based off a cover of a book they saw once. Wasted potential, a real shame. Smith and Jones - Nice standard episode of Doctor Who. The Judoon are a solid alien race that I enjoy seeing reappear over the years, and I think Martha starts out strong here, even if her character diminishes in subsequent appearances. The concept of an entire hospital being transported to a desolate, alien landscape is solid, though taken directly from "The Drifting Classroom". Outside that, it's fine. It was always going to feel a bit lackluster compared to the extreme emotional heights of the last finale, so it was a good design not to try and continue that yet. The Shakespeare Code - Alongside Smith and Jones, this is another standard, solid story that isn't that remarkable in any particular way. As someone who has studied Shakespeare, portraying him as a boorish flirt was pretty funny, and quite accurate though. The Next Doctor - I know a lot of people really like this one but it never did much for me. The Cybershade is a neat design, but I cant really point to anything its doing particularly great. The title, while obviously serving a purpose in story, feels a little like clickbait consider at this point we knew Tennant would be leaving the show. The Idiots Lantern - Nice standard adventure in a time period not often showcased. I love the costumes in this episode. I also loved how creepy the presenter was, and her "Aubry 2 / Krelborn" situation with Magpie was nice and unnerving. Speaking of which, while it made no sense, the faceless people were perfect in that uncanny valley way. Rose finding a whole crowd of them locked together is the highlight of the episode. Still, outside of those elements, there's nothing too special going on here. The main focus of the bigoted father is a little preachy and something we've seen over and over. Though the ending note where Tenth encourages the son to not give up on helping him change was surprisingly mature; under another writer they'd probably have just killed him off and flashed "DONT BE EVIL" on the screen. Fun fact, this episode started the "Magpie" branded electronics easter eggs hidden throughout the rest of the RTD run. Partners in Crime: Im gonna be real. The monsters made of fat is a hard plot point to get past. Its real dumb, and the "nanny" feels more like a CBBC villain than a Doctor Who adversary. Still its balanced out by just how joyful it is seeing Doctor and Donna reunite and bounce of each other. It also has the amazing "I just want to mate" scene.
Christmas Invasion - What's great about this episode, the Tenth's first, is it's restraint. It spends about half the episode with him in a coma, leaving the side characters to deal with the threat alone. Not only does this build anticipation for what kind of Doctor he'll be revealed to be, but it also reinforces why the world needs him at all. When he does finally awaken, and gives his first "proper" scene in his run, its really hard to downplay just how immediately captivating Tennant was in the role. It's not his best story, but its a damn good first outing. My favourite moment, wherein he kills the prime minister's career with a single sentence, also has to be mentioned. Tooth and Claw - I love when Doctor Who tackles classic monsters. A isolated house on the moors, haunted by a werewolf, its very Victorian Gothic and I dig its vibe a lot. It is Doctor and Rose at their most twee, they're a little too giddy, childlike, and flirty throughout the episode. Still its fun, it never soars but its a great ride. Rise of the Cybermen / Age of Steel - So great for the cybermen to make a full and proper return to the series, even though I felt they're presented in Tenth's run a little TOO similar to the Daleks. Still, I love how horrifying the transformation from human to robot is. The parallel universe is also a fun idea, seeing a serious and competent Mickey and enjoying the Doctor's reaction to Rose being a dog in this world. School Reunion - This episode isn't amazing, but its very cute. Obviously you have the return of Sarah Jane, which was a great callback to the classic era. Her line about being left in Aberdeen feels like an amazing punchline to set up from 20 years prior. The return of K-9 and Mickey's insecurity of being "The robot dog" of the trio is a lot of fun. The main plot isn't anything mind-blowing, Bat creatures are brainwashing kids to unlock some big puzzle - bit cartoony but its, again, an episode with K-9 so we just roll with it. It also reminds me a lot of something you'd read in the "Demon Headmaster" series, so again reinforces that tone of nostalgia that's prevalent throughout. It raises the question of why the Doctor never checks in with his companions, and his nature of dipping and changing who he travels with. A question I dont think has really been answered to this day tbh. Still its fun. Planet of the Ood - Its pretty on the nose but I really cant fault this episode. Sure, its basically just "Slavery bad", and if this was Tenth and Martha it'd probably rank lower. Still, its a fine episode once again elevated by the great chemistry of the Doctor and Donna. The Girl in the Fireplace - It's a little sappy, still I enjoy the narrative of the Doctor periodically visiting a woman throughout her life to help her out. The villains, the clockwork people, are cheesy in exactly the right way. Seeing the Doctor in a classical French setting is also refreshing, and reminds me of Tennant's stint on Cassanova. Runaway Bride - "Doctor Who meets Catherine Tate" was the selling pitch for this Christmas special, and undoubtedly make a few eye roll when it was first advertised. Kinda like "Doctor Who meets Miranda" of its time. Yet, its a really solid episode. The fact its a Christmas episode allows it to be more frivolous and fun, and Tate proved to be a very enjoyable counterpoint to the Doctor. To the point where she'd return for a full season (and again in 2023), and is without a doubt my favourite companion in the modern era. It's not all laughs and farce either, despite being a very upbeat and bombastic episode, it ends on a surprisingly sombre note. We see Tenth once again leaning a bit too far into "JJ&E" territory, and the supposedly foppish Donna is able to leave him with a touching and poignant speech about why he needs a companion. Army of Ghosts / Doomsday - This is a story with a lot of ups and downs, luckily the ups are incredibly high. The starting mystery is immediately intriguing, with a ghost suddenly appearing all around England. It then treads water for a bit, but amps up in the war between Cybermen and Daleks. The concept is still cool to this day, though I do wish it was a bit more of an even fight, not just Daleks absolutely wiping the floor with them. And of course, I cant not mention that ending. Rose's almost death, her rescue and isolation, and final goodbye that's cut JUST too soon. It's really great, exemplified only by Murray Golds score. Utopia - Im not that fussed about Captain Jack, or his pretty bad spin off Torchwood (I couldn't watch passed the episode that had the alien that fucks people to death, jeez.) Still its fun to see him back and play off the Tenth Doctor. The trio make for a fun dynamic I wouldve liked to see in a few more stories. The real highlight of the episode is of course The Master. Not his reincarnation, but Derek Jacobi. The scene where he remembers who he is is chilling, and its honestly a shame we didnt get to see more of him in the role. Chantho is also a nice example of a likable side character you really hated to see die. The Water of Mars - A great last "regular" adventure for the tenth. While its not unseen ground, a monster picking off workers on a space station, it's an episode that results in more than the sum of its parts. Transferring the disease via water in particular is a nice touch, and gives it a 28 Days Later vibe. Plus, there's that ending. Where the Doctor oversteps his boundaries and and has to face the consequences, an event that had been a long time coming. The End of Time - Realtalk, part one of this is so bad. The Master resurrected as a genie then as a cannibal, the Daddy/daughter duo, the comedy cactus duo, and the ending where every turns into the Master in a really whack effect. Still, in all that there's The Doctor giving his farewell performance. There's Wilf, giving a fantastic stint as the last companion. And there's Tennant's goodbye. Some people hate the scene in the Tardis, but I find it very touching - I think its skirts by being too much but lands on the right side of the line. The Tenth wouldn't want to go, and seeing him forced too, choosing one live over the potentially hundreds of years he had left, is very moving. We also get our first look at 12, who bolts out of the gates running in a childlike glee he'd come to represent. A flawed, but at times fantastic farewell. Silence in the Library / The Forest of the Dead - The fact I've rated this so highly even though I really hate the character of River Song says a lot. I think the concept of a library the size of a planet, and an enemy that devours you the second you step on a shadow, are very effective. And while I don't like River or how smarmy she is, it really was the first time the revival had stretched its legs with the idea of a non-linear story. The ending is quite sappy. But overall a very enjoyable two parter; the remains of the victims repeating their last words on loop was a very nice touch.
Fires of Pompeii - Some people might be surprised at me not putting this higher. I do this mostly because what's great about the episode is that ending dilemma, where Donna is unable to understand why Tenth can't save everyone. The highlight of course being when he gets her to understand why he cant, her desperate pleading to save someone. It really solidified Donna as more than just comedic foil to Doctor, she's probably the companion who had the greatest insight in how he worked. The preceding 30 mins are fine, it really is that ending that's so good. Fun fact, you can see future companion Karen Gillan AND future Doctor Peter Capaldi playing side characters in this episode. Turn Left - One of the downsides of having Tate as a companion was that her schedule was packed and she notably appeared a little less than the companions that preceded her. So it was really enjoyable to watch an entire episode where she has to make it on her own. What's really great about this episode is the unreliability of its narrative, its dreamlike horror, and the "thing on your back" that you can never see all add up to one mind fuck of an episode. While I cant rate the proceeding two parter that high due to a wealth of issues, it also begins the end of Donna's story - an ending I find to be even more heart-breaking than Rose's departure. The Impossible Planet/ Stan Pit - Some really good set design and costuming in this episode. The story of a mining crew that accidently unearths a demon is classic, some really solid sci fi storytelling right there. Personally, I ascribe to the theory that the monster is not literally Satan, I find the concept a little too silly, and viewing him as a kind of metaphorical demon is much easier to buy into and be afraid of. I wouldn't call the episode scary in the way some of the more disturbing episodes are, but there's an undoubtable element of lovecraftian horror at play here that's just delicious. This idea of a small no-name crew, and even the Doctor, stumbling upon something so much cosmically larger than themselves is chilling. I do wish the possessed crew member was a little scarier. I personally would've gone for a more "uncanny" vibe with him than just covering him with markings. Still, great duology. Human Nature/Family of Blood - I also applaud them for being frank with representing the racism at the time. I'm sure its a bit uncomfortable to see it portrayed in all its degusting normalcy, but that's what comes with showing that time period. I much prefer this, honest take to Moffat's later "Actually England was always diverse and racism just didn't exist" approach. I also really appreciated the look into how schools treat kids at the time, and the grim knowledge that these children would soon be sent into the living hell that was war as fodder. In terms of lore, its also very important. You obviously have the pocket watch, an item that comes back again and again as an important device. But its also one of the more important examples of Ten developing a God Complex at the end, and important element to his Time Lord Victorious arc. The army of scarecrows is a bit lame, its kind of a box check, the climax. But outside that its a truly special story of the Doctor rediscovering who he is, and having a taste at a life he can never truly have. Blink - What else can be said about this episode? The best Doctor-light episode ever made. The reserved approach to the monsters made them truly unnerving, the one-off characters were genuinely likeable (In fact, they hit pretty strongly of a precursor to Amy and Rory), the Doctor's one-way video conversation. For my money, however, the atmosphere is the highlight. Its a great episode to watch with the lights dimmed and a nice cup of hot chocolate. Fun fact: DVDs containing this episode actually had a hidden Easter Egg on them of the Doctor's uncut recording. Midnight - For my money, this is an episode scarier than even Weeping Angels. A superb bottle episode, I think its one of the best showcases of Doctor's character. His joy in the opening is infectious, in both his excitement to see an unexplored planet (a great representation of his wanderlust) and his investment in talking to all the passengers and getting to know them. A great set up that contrasts with the pressure cooker that is the rest of the episode. I love the Doctor's growing panic as he sees his usual tricks fail in the face of a group ruled by fear.

"Trust me, I know what I'm doing, I'm clever!" "... Oh, and we're stupid? Is that it?" "Can you do that? Can you seriously make the choice to kill someone?" "... yes." "Me too, throw her out"

It also, imo, features some of Tennant's best acting. How he conveys a mix of paralysis and panic while repeating "throw him out" is chilling. It's also a great, and little rare, example of nuance in the writing. As with Voyage of the Damned, it would have been SO easy to divide the passengers into "The good ones" and "The bad ones". It's a great touch that the one that ultimately saves the day, is the one that started the talk of throwing people out of the shuttle in the first place. Fantastic episode, a perfect execution of "less is more" and highlight of Tennant's entire run.
BONUS: The Day of the Doctor - Not strictly a Tenth adventure, but his presence is such a joy to see again. His first scene, where he explains his "Ding!" machine immediately proved that his take on the character really was that good, and not just rose coloured glasses. His showboating, rivalry with 11 was also great, had an air of squabbling brothers to it. Time Lord Victorious - I haven't listened to many Big Finish stories, but this one I have and its pretty good. It explores his "Time Lord Victorious" days of hubris further, and I loved hearing him play off the Ninth Doctor - a incarnation that needs more love imo.
So thats my ranking! Please feel free to discuss my choices further in the comments, or post your own. Its doubtful anyone will have the same order, so I'm looking forward to hearing everyone's opinions.

I cannot express to you how bored I am at work right now. Here we go, from Worst to Best:
Love and Monsters - I find it so funny that one of the worst and one of the best episodes are in the Doctor-light format, proving that its not the framework of this episode that makes it so bad, it truly is just that awful. To start with, the broad concept isn't inherently bad - the idea of a group of UFO hunting paranormal investigators teaming up to research the Doctor and the idea of an alien infiltrating said group to find him are both solid. The problem is the tone, which is just so out of touch. I get they were going for tongue-in-cheek, but they missed by a wide margin and landed squarely in trashy territory. The Scooby-Doo homage is cringey, and the ending joke about a man getting sucked off by cement tile with a face is just bizarre. I know the monster was designed by a child, which is a fun idea, but they could've picked a better entry because watching Peter Kay run around in a green fat suit is way too reminiscent of the Doctor Who joke in the finale of Extras. Fear Her - I don't actually hate the concept, I like the idea of a Twilight Zone homage. The kid with godlike powers that everyone has to walk on eggshells around. The execution is what lets it down. The living scribble, the bad kid actress, the s l o w pace. The real killing blow however is the Doctor running with the Olympic torch while the announcer talks about how he's carrying love. Good grief. Even for RTD it was beyond cheese. Fun fact, Fear Her and Love and Monsters aired back to back. What a grim fortnight to be a Doctor Who fan. The Lazarus Experiment - I really did not enjoy this episode. Its trying to be a homage to a classic "Mad scientist plays God and becomes a monster" tale but end of the day its a really cheesy story, with uninteresting family drama re:Martha's boring family, and ends with a man turning into a Scorpion. As a kid I remember actually being embarrassed watching it. Daleks in Manhattan/Evolution of the Daleks - I may be biased here. I still vividly remember how disappointed I was a kid, waiting so long for a resolution to the Daleks escape at the end of Season 2 to be resolved, only for it to be this. Like almost all these episodes, I don't hate ideas that are here. The idea of a Dalek going rogue, trying to evolve, and then failing due to the bigotry s of its own people is pretty classic. But the design of the Human Dalek is so distracting, and I honestly don't think there was enough material for this to be a two parter, which cripples the pace. There are also some niggles throughout, setting it in America was ambitious but clearly a bit too much for the time they made it. The accent are very hammy, and the constant use of low angle shots to hide the British backdrop was never convincing. The scenes in Central Park in particular never stopped feeling like they just went out to a field by the studio. The creation and quick kill of the Human Dalek, followed by the Doctor giving a speech on genocide, was also the first time I felt the episodes were leaning on big speeches to wrap things up a bit too often. We do have Andrew Garfield, future Spider-man, playing a bit part in these episodes which is funny to see. The Stolen Earth / Journey's End - My least favourite ending story. For what it does right, it sends off Donna on a very strong note. As for what it does wrong? Kinda everything else. Its a big clusterfuck of a story with too much happening. The big draw being crossing over with Torchwood (the adult focused spin off) and The Sarah Jane Adventures (the kid focused spin off). That mattered little too me, I thought the former was edgy garbage and was too old for the latter. The big problem though, is how it undoes and botches Rose's ending. Not only do we have a fakeout death for the Doctor (a big no-no for any writer), but ending it with making a clone that Rose immediately falls in love with felt so wrong. It was the show trying to have its cake and eat it too, while pleasing no one. And if you were looking forward to at at least Davros coming back, well he doesn't do anything. The Sound of Drums / The Last of the Timelords - There's only one reason to watch this story and it's Jon Simm. He is batshit, acts like a cartoon character, and is the only engaging part of this bafflingly weird story. I don't think I have to lay out exactly what is wrong with it do I? From the ugly CGI goblin Doctor, to Martha's boring family popping back up to play an important role for some reason, to Doctor being resurrected by the love of people around the world. I cant imagine what they were thinking here. Just watch the scene of The Master dancing to "I can't decide" and give this one a skip. 42 - Boring. Like all of Chibnall's episodes, and bad sign of things to come in his run.
Gridlock - This ones okay, not much I can say about it. The idea of revisiting the underbelly area from a previous season is interesting, and something I'd actually like to see more often. Still, its hard to rate it too highly when its concept of "trapped in a small area with an unseen monster" was ultimately done so much better down the road. Also, a bit of a waste of Dougal. Planet of the Dead - Another story that borrows a lot from "The Drifting Classroom", its a solid idea executed without much flair or interest. The big issue is the likability or interest of the fellow passengers, in that there isn't any. New Earth - Another, fine standard episode. It's fun to see Cassandra again, and appearances from the Face of Boe are always a treat. Still, I always struggle to remember what exactly happens in this one. Its not bad just very okay. Doctor's Daughter - Its not that its particularly bad, but the conceit of the episode is very fanfictiony. I dread the day they eventually follow up on its cliff-hanger. Voyage of the Damned - Is this controversial? I feel like if you dont care about the star power, there's not much offered here. Its pretty by the books. The idea of the worst person of the group being the only one who survived is interesting, but its more a punchline than an important narrative point. The Sontaran Stratagem / The Poison Sky - This earns a few extra points because the Sontaran's are always a very fun villain when they appear, and the joke where the incel is shot down for proposing repopulating the earth. Its just a shame so much of this story is dedicated to that whiny teen genius. Its RTD's era at its kost "Kids show" I feel, just a really silly plot with silly characters and a underwhelming conclusion. Unicorn and the Wasp - There's probably no other episode that feels as much as a rushed first draft as this one. The idea of Doctor Who doing a love letter to Agatha Christie is fantastic, and something they actually pull off much better in a later season. The references to Christie's work is fun, and I enjoy how The Doctor is a fan. But, and you knew this was coming, the giant wasp is very lame. The writer's themselves even admitted to phoning this one in, they added the wasp based off a cover of a book they saw once. Wasted potential, a real shame. Smith and Jones - Nice standard episode of Doctor Who. The Judoon are a solid alien race that I enjoy seeing reappear over the years, and I think Martha starts out strong here, even if her character diminishes in subsequent appearances. The concept of an entire hospital being transported to a desolate, alien landscape is solid, though taken directly from "The Drifting Classroom". Outside that, it's fine. It was always going to feel a bit lackluster compared to the extreme emotional heights of the last finale, so it was a good design not to try and continue that yet. The Shakespeare Code - Alongside Smith and Jones, this is another standard, solid story that isn't that remarkable in any particular way. As someone who has studied Shakespeare, portraying him as a boorish flirt was pretty funny, and quite accurate though. The Next Doctor - I know a lot of people really like this one but it never did much for me. The Cybershade is a neat design, but I cant really point to anything its doing particularly great. The title, while obviously serving a purpose in story, feels a little like clickbait consider at this point we knew Tennant would be leaving the show. The Idiots Lantern - Nice standard adventure in a time period not often showcased. I love the costumes in this episode. I also loved how creepy the presenter was, and her "Aubry 2 / Krelborn" situation with Magpie was nice and unnerving. Speaking of which, while it made no sense, the faceless people were perfect in that uncanny valley way. Rose finding a whole crowd of them locked together is the highlight of the episode. Still, outside of those elements, there's nothing too special going on here. The main focus of the bigoted father is a little preachy and something we've seen over and over. Though the ending note where Tenth encourages the son to not give up on helping him change was surprisingly mature; under another writer they'd probably have just killed him off and flashed "DONT BE EVIL" on the screen. Fun fact, this episode started the "Magpie" branded electronics easter eggs hidden throughout the rest of the RTD run. Partners in Crime: Im gonna be real. The monsters made of fat is a hard plot point to get past. Its real dumb, and the "nanny" feels more like a CBBC villain than a Doctor Who adversary. Still its balanced out by just how joyful it is seeing Doctor and Donna reunite and bounce of each other. It also has the amazing "I just want to mate" scene.
Christmas Invasion - What's great about this episode, the Tenth's first, is it's restraint. It spends about half the episode with him in a coma, leaving the side characters to deal with the threat alone. Not only does this build anticipation for what kind of Doctor he'll be revealed to be, but it also reinforces why the world needs him at all. When he does finally awaken, and gives his first "proper" scene in his run, its really hard to downplay just how immediately captivating Tennant was in the role. It's not his best story, but its a damn good first outing. My favourite moment, wherein he kills the prime minister's career with a single sentence, also has to be mentioned. Tooth and Claw - I love when Doctor Who tackles classic monsters. A isolated house on the moors, haunted by a werewolf, its very Victorian Gothic and I dig its vibe a lot. It is Doctor and Rose at their most twee, they're a little too giddy, childlike, and flirty throughout the episode. Still its fun, it never soars but its a great ride. Rise of the Cybermen / Age of Steel - So great for the cybermen to make a full and proper return to the series, even though I felt they're presented in Tenth's run a little TOO similar to the Daleks. Still, I love how horrifying the transformation from human to robot is. The parallel universe is also a fun idea, seeing a serious and competent Mickey and enjoying the Doctor's reaction to Rose being a dog in this world. School Reunion - This episode isn't amazing, but its very cute. Obviously you have the return of Sarah Jane, which was a great callback to the classic era. Her line about being left in Aberdeen feels like an amazing punchline to set up from 20 years prior. The return of K-9 and Mickey's insecurity of being "The robot dog" of the trio is a lot of fun. The main plot isn't anything mind-blowing, Bat creatures are brainwashing kids to unlock some big puzzle - bit cartoony but its, again, an episode with K-9 so we just roll with it. It also reminds me a lot of something you'd read in the "Demon Headmaster" series, so again reinforces that tone of nostalgia that's prevalent throughout. It raises the question of why the Doctor never checks in with his companions, and his nature of dipping and changing who he travels with. A question I dont think has really been answered to this day tbh. Still its fun. Planet of the Ood - Its pretty on the nose but I really cant fault this episode. Sure, its basically just "Slavery bad", and if this was Tenth and Martha it'd probably rank lower. Still, its a fine episode once again elevated by the great chemistry of the Doctor and Donna. The Girl in the Fireplace - It's a little sappy, still I enjoy the narrative of the Doctor periodically visiting a woman throughout her life to help her out. The villains, the clockwork people, are cheesy in exactly the right way. Seeing the Doctor in a classical French setting is also refreshing, and reminds me of Tennant's stint on Cassanova. Runaway Bride - "Doctor Who meets Catherine Tate" was the selling pitch for this Christmas special, and undoubtedly make a few eye roll when it was first advertised. Kinda like "Doctor Who meets Miranda" of its time. Yet, its a really solid episode. The fact its a Christmas episode allows it to be more frivolous and fun, and Tate proved to be a very enjoyable counterpoint to the Doctor. To the point where she'd return for a full season (and again in 2023), and is without a doubt my favourite companion in the modern era. It's not all laughs and farce either, despite being a very upbeat and bombastic episode, it ends on a surprisingly sombre note. We see Tenth once again leaning a bit too far into "JJ&E" territory, and the supposedly foppish Donna is able to leave him with a touching and poignant speech about why he needs a companion. Army of Ghosts / Doomsday - This is a story with a lot of ups and downs, luckily the ups are incredibly high. The starting mystery is immediately intriguing, with a ghost suddenly appearing all around England. It then treads water for a bit, but amps up in the war between Cybermen and Daleks. The concept is still cool to this day, though I do wish it was a bit more of an even fight, not just Daleks absolutely wiping the floor with them. And of course, I cant not mention that ending. Rose's almost death, her rescue and isolation, and final goodbye that's cut JUST too soon. It's really great, exemplified only by Murray Golds score. Utopia - Im not that fussed about Captain Jack, or his pretty bad spin off Torchwood (I couldn't watch passed the episode that had the alien that fucks people to death, jeez.) Still its fun to see him back and play off the Tenth Doctor. The trio make for a fun dynamic I wouldve liked to see in a few more stories. The real highlight of the episode is of course The Master. Not his reincarnation, but Derek Jacobi. The scene where he remembers who he is is chilling, and its honestly a shame we didnt get to see more of him in the role. Chantho is also a nice example of a likable side character you really hated to see die. The Water of Mars - A great last "regular" adventure for the tenth. While its not unseen ground, a monster picking off workers on a space station, it's an episode that results in more than the sum of its parts. Transferring the disease via water in particular is a nice touch, and gives it a 28 Days Later vibe. Plus, there's that ending. Where the Doctor oversteps his boundaries and and has to face the consequences, an event that had been a long time coming. The End of Time - Realtalk, part one of this is so bad. The Master resurrected as a genie then as a cannibal, the Daddy/daughter duo, the comedy cactus duo, and the ending where every turns into the Master in a really whack effect. Still, in all that there's The Doctor giving his farewell performance. There's Wilf, giving a fantastic stint as the last companion. And there's Tennant's goodbye. Some people hate the scene in the Tardis, but I find it very touching - I think its skirts by being too much but lands on the right side of the line. The Tenth wouldn't want to go, and seeing him forced too, choosing one live over the potentially hundreds of years he had left, is very moving. We also get our first look at 12, who bolts out of the gates running in a childlike glee he'd come to represent. A flawed, but at times fantastic farewell. Silence in the Library / The Forest of the Dead - The fact I've rated this so highly even though I really hate the character of River Song says a lot. I think the concept of a library the size of a planet, and an enemy that devours you the second you step on a shadow, are very effective. And while I don't like River or how smarmy she is, it really was the first time the revival had stretched its legs with the idea of a non-linear story. The ending is quite sappy. But overall a very enjoyable two parter; the remains of the victims repeating their last words on loop was a very nice touch.
Fires of Pompeii - Some people might be surprised at me not putting this higher. I do this mostly because what's great about the episode is that ending dilemma, where Donna is unable to understand why Tenth can't save everyone. The highlight of course being when he gets her to understand why he cant, her desperate pleading to save someone. It really solidified Donna as more than just comedic foil to Doctor, she's probably the companion who had the greatest insight in how he worked. The preceding 30 mins are fine, it really is that ending that's so good. Fun fact, you can see future companion Karen Gillan AND future Doctor Peter Capaldi playing side characters in this episode. Turn Left - One of the downsides of having Tate as a companion was that her schedule was packed and she notably appeared a little less than the companions that preceded her. So it was really enjoyable to watch an entire episode where she has to make it on her own. What's really great about this episode is the unreliability of its narrative, its dreamlike horror, and the "thing on your back" that you can never see all add up to one mind fuck of an episode. While I cant rate the proceeding two parter that high due to a wealth of issues, it also begins the end of Donna's story - an ending I find to be even more heart-breaking than Rose's departure. The Impossible Planet/ Stan Pit - Some really good set design and costuming in this episode. The story of a mining crew that accidently unearths a demon is classic, some really solid sci fi storytelling right there. Personally, I ascribe to the theory that the monster is not literally Satan, I find the concept a little too silly, and viewing him as a kind of metaphorical demon is much easier to buy into and be afraid of. I wouldn't call the episode scary in the way some of the more disturbing episodes are, but there's an undoubtable element of lovecraftian horror at play here that's just delicious. This idea of a small no-name crew, and even the Doctor, stumbling upon something so much cosmically larger than themselves is chilling. I do wish the possessed crew member was a little scarier. I personally would've gone for a more "uncanny" vibe with him than just covering him with markings. Still, great duology. Human Nature/Family of Blood - I also applaud them for being frank with representing the racism at the time. I'm sure its a bit uncomfortable to see it portrayed in all its degusting normalcy, but that's what comes with showing that time period. I much prefer this, honest take to Moffat's later "Actually England was always diverse and racism just didn't exist" approach. I also really appreciated the look into how schools treat kids at the time, and the grim knowledge that these children would soon be sent into the living hell that was war as fodder. In terms of lore, its also very important. You obviously have the pocket watch, an item that comes back again and again as an important device. But its also one of the more important examples of Ten developing a God Complex at the end, and important element to his Time Lord Victorious arc. The army of scarecrows is a bit lame, its kind of a box check, the climax. But outside that its a truly special story of the Doctor rediscovering who he is, and having a taste at a life he can never truly have. Blink - What else can be said about this episode? The best Doctor-light episode ever made. The reserved approach to the monsters made them truly unnerving, the one-off characters were genuinely likeable (In fact, they hit pretty strongly of a precursor to Amy and Rory), the Doctor's one-way video conversation. For my money, however, the atmosphere is the highlight. Its a great episode to watch with the lights dimmed and a nice cup of hot chocolate. Fun fact: DVDs containing this episode actually had a hidden Easter Egg on them of the Doctor's uncut recording. Midnight - For my money, this is an episode scarier than even Weeping Angels. A superb bottle episode, I think its one of the best showcases of Doctor's character. His joy in the opening is infectious, in both his excitement to see an unexplored planet (a great representation of his wanderlust) and his investment in talking to all the passengers and getting to know them. A great set up that contrasts with the pressure cooker that is the rest of the episode. I love the Doctor's growing panic as he sees his usual tricks fail in the face of a group ruled by fear.

"Trust me, I know what I'm doing, I'm clever!" "... Oh, and we're stupid? Is that it?" "Can you do that? Can you seriously make the choice to kill someone?" "... yes." "Me too, throw her out"

It also, imo, features some of Tennant's best acting. How he conveys a mix of paralysis and panic while repeating "throw him out" is chilling. It's also a great, and little rare, example of nuance in the writing. As with Voyage of the Damned, it would have been SO easy to divide the passengers into "The good ones" and "The bad ones". It's a great touch that the one that ultimately saves the day, is the one that started the talk of throwing people out of the shuttle in the first place. Fantastic episode, a perfect execution of "less is more" and highlight of Tennant's entire run.
BONUS: The Day of the Doctor - Not strictly a Tenth adventure, but his presence is such a joy to see again. His first scene, where he explains his "Ding!" machine immediately proved that his take on the character really was that good, and not just rose coloured glasses. His showboating, rivalry with 11 was also great, had an air of squabbling brothers to it. Time Lord Victorious - I haven't listened to many Big Finish stories, but this one I have and its pretty good. It explores his "Time Lord Victorious" days of hubris further, and I loved hearing him play off the Ninth Doctor - a incarnation that needs more love imo.
So thats my ranking! Please feel free to discuss my choices further in the comments, or post your own. Its doubtful anyone will have the same order, so I'm looking forward to hearing everyone's opinions.

For everyone that doesn't have a fireplace whether its gas, electric, tv stand or etc. How do you currently hang your stocking? We had a board that was decorated with circuit designs but it has since broken. I have looked at command hooks which are $13 cad each or just getting two and using a curtain rod. The other option is to build another wooden hanger.

Trailend is a town that lives up to its name. It's a sleepy hamlet nestled between the banks of the Tennessee River and the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. During the warmer months, it caters to all types of outdoorsy folks looking to leave civilization behind for a long weekend. A year ago, I was one of those weekend warriors. I couldn't wait to get lost in the woods for a few days and feel the "restorative healing of mother nature" work its charms on my battered psyche.
Back then, my life was in shambles. I had graduated college with massive student loan debt and few prospects in my chosen field. I applied to every job that fit my degree but couldn't even land an interview. Needing money, I took a day job to help pay the bills until I could find something more permanent. Six months later, I was still at my day job, and most of my prospects had dried up.
Worse, the stress from my day job was eating my soul. I loved my co-workers, but management – as usual – was the worst. Every encounter, no matter how benign, left you feeling emotionally drained. The daily onslaught of being micromanaged into the ground was enough to make you want to jump out of the building. I'll give our company credit for one thing – they made the office building windows hard to break and thus saved countless lives.
On top of that, my significant other Charlie and I were at an inflection point. We both were pondering the future, and only one of us was curious if it included the other person. In our best moments, our bickering was playful and fun. Lately, that had all started to curdle into bitterness and anger. Suddenly, my home went from being a refuge to a black hole of suck.
At the time, it felt like my life was darkening, and I wasn't sure I had a light to see my way out.
Our trip to Trailend was very much needed for a multitude of reasons. I was hoping to not only unwind and relax in the woods but also reconnect. If the trip went well, my relationship had a fighting chance. I didn't want to think about what lay ahead if things went sideways.
We drove up together in my old beater. Now, I love my car—whom I lovingly referred to as Deep Blue for reasons lost to me – but my better half was not a fan. In fact, they were confident Deep Blue couldn't handle the drive. I wouldn't hear it.
Was Deep Blue ugly? Yes, yes, she was. Did she have over two hundred thousand miles on it? Of course, she did. Was she loud and had a constant check engine light glowing? All classic cars do. But I believed in her. Despite my initial confidence, I was worried Deep Blue might not have the umpf needed to push ahead as the roads inclined. Thank God for small miracles. The ol' girl pulled through.
Our cabin was in the middle of nowhere and looked like it was built during Abraham Lincoln's lifetime, but it was better than a tent. The interiors of the place were a touch better but not by much. The perk of the place was a big river rock fireplace and a surprisingly comfortable king-sized bed.
The condition of the cabin was a secondary concern for the trip. The real beauty was the view. From the cabin's front porch, you had a view of a golden valley filled with tall sweet grass that swayed in the breeze. There was a wooden walkway that cut through the grass and led to the banks of the river. It was a sight to behold.
On the opposite side of the valley was a dense piney woods so thick with trees it got dark hours before the rest of the valley did. When the wind blew, you could hear it push through the millions of pine needles, and it sounded like the ocean. If you closed your eyes, you could trick your brain into thinking that you were near the beach. It was the salve I needed to help heal me.
After we brought in everything from Deep Blue and set up the cabin, we thought we should head down into town and grab some supplies. We needed the essentials – chocolate, marshmallows, and graham crackers – but also, like, real food, water, and beer. I was going to grab a couple of cords of wood for both the fire pit outside and that inviting fireplace. I could already feel the tension melting away. Charlie and I both could.
We stopped at Eddie's Shack, the local general store, and picked up everything we'd need for the long weekend. It was fun, actually. We joked around like we had at the start of the relationship. Nobody put on airs. We were goofy and lovey and remembered that we still liked one another. If this was a portent of the weekend ahead, I was ecstatic.
Then we met Eddie.
Eddie was straight from small-town central casting. He was older, though how old, who could tell. His salt and pepper hair was tucked underneath a weathered Bass Pro Shop trucker's hat. He wore a red and black plaid shirt that looked "well worn" with black suspenders pinning it down to his shoulders. Honest to God, when we saw him, he was whittling a block of wood into the shape of an old-timey truck.
"City folk?" Eddie asked without looking up.
"How can you tell?" I asked.
He just laughed. I stole a glance with my partner and rolled my eyes.
"Where you staying?"
"Cabin up near Chimney Valley," I said.
"Nice spot. You up to fish? Hunt? Camp?"
"Relax," I said.
"Good place to do that," Eddie said, finally looking up. "Well, aren't you two a good lookin' pair."
We both blushed a bit. "Thank you," Charlie said with a smirk, "I think so too."
"Ever been up this way before," Eddie asked, finally putting down his whittling and ringing up our supplies.
"Nope," I said. "First time."
"Beautiful country," he said, whistling for emphasis.
"It really is amazing," Charlie said, "We're above the Whippoorwill trail. I can't wait to walk through that field. So many pretty wildflowers."
"I saw some pictures on Instagram of the fireflies in the field at night," I added, "I think we should walk down there later and see it first hand."
Eddie chuckled to himself and shook his head.
"Not as good as advertised?"
"No, it's pretty enough," he said, "but if I were you, I wouldn't go wandering in the valley at night. Not at all."
"Wild animals," Charlie offered.
"Things like that but not that," came the reply.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"You have any idea how old those woods are? That mountain range? Older than Jesus himself," Eddie said, adding another whistle. "Older than the good lord and deeper and darker than hell itself. Lots of things out there that we don't know about."
I looked at Charlie, and my eyes screamed, "We should leave," but Charlie wasn't quite ready. I saw that inquisitive look on their face and knew we weren't going anywhere. Charlie had been hooked by Eddie's ramblings.
"But you're only thinking on one thing out there, right?" Charlie asked.
Eddie nodded as he bagged the marshmallows, "Yup. I'm thinking of one specific creature I'd avoid."
"Are there others you'd invite in for tea?" I asked, trying to bring a little levity to a story that was taking a bleak turn.
Eddie laughed. "Not really. 'Sides, not a tea drinker myself. I'm more of a bourbon man."
"What's the creature," Charlie asked?
"They come as fireflies," Eddie said as he put the chocolate bars in the bag, "but they don't stay that way. That's how they get around. How they blend in. Once they change, though, hoo boy."
I wanted to say I don't remember seeing any monsters on the insta feed but thought the remark would arrive DOA. Plus, I wasn't sure I wanted to learn more about these creatures or stories about these creatures. I know how my brain works. Later tonight, when Charlie inevitably falls asleep before me, I'll be stressing about firefly monsters.
"What is it?" Charlie asked again.
Eddie looked up. His lower lip was bumped out from dip – his teeth bore the tell-tale staining of a habitual user. He looked Charlie dead in the eyes and said, "The Maymen."
"What the hell are the Maymen?"
"I don't know exactly, but I do know to stay away from them."
"What do you know?"
"Are they people?" I asked, dreading the answer.
"In a way, yes, and in a way no," he said. "I hear they look like a person but taller. And their eyes glow green, that's how they blend in with the fireflies, but that ain't the worst part."
We waited with bated breath, but Eddie just handed us our bags and said, "That'll be twenty-two thirty-five."
I reached for my wallet, but Charlie knocked my arm down, "Eddie, what's the worst part?"
"Oh," he said, "they got long blades for arms, and once they spot you…" He trailed off.
"Do they follow?"
"Oh yes," Eddie said, spitting into a little Styrofoam cup. "Need to get near a fire to keep them at bay. Or so I'm told. Again, I ain't never seen one for myself."
"I wouldn't want to either," I said, handing over some cash to Eddie.
"If you got a fireplace in your cabin," he said, handing me my change, "I'd keep a fire burning just in case. They can't use doors, but they can come down chimneys."
"Maybe I'll take another cord of wood," I said, handing over a five.
"Have a good one now, okay? Enjoy mother nature. She's a beautiful woman!"
We hustled out of the store and let Eddie return to his whittling. We stayed quiet for the first ten minutes in Deep Blue, but I knew it wouldn't last. Charlie was busting at the seams.
"The fuck was that back there?" Charlie finally blurted out.
"Oh man, I have no clue."
"The Maymen?"
"They come as fireflies," I said, doing my best to mimic Eddie's voice.
The review of my attempt was sudden. Charlie blanched and gave me a thumbs down. "That was rough."
"It's a work in progress," I countered.
"You think there is anything…."
"No," I said before Charlie finished speaking, "they are some backwoods stories designed by bored people to scare tourists."
"Did it work," Charlie said, needling me.
"No," I lied. "I don't think Eddie is a reliable narrator."
Charlie laughed. "Probably not. Hey, did you grab some booze back there?"
"Yeah,
why?"
It was Charlie's turn to mimic Eddie's voice, "Ain't much of a tea drinker myself. I'm a bourbon man."
I glanced over at Charlie and nodded. Yes, the impression was spot on. Of course, it was. It ALWAYS is. Charlie laughed. I did too. It was nice.
We got back to the cabin with some daylight still left. I wanted to get an early jump on dinner, but Charlie wanted to hit the trail before it got dark. "You don't want to walk in the river?"
"I do, but dinner…"
"Will be here when we get back."
"Should I start a fire?"
"Prep a fire," Charlie countered, "and let's hope the Maymen leave your carefully balanced wood alone."
"So, so funny," I said and went about setting up the fire in the fireplace. It was a smart idea to get this prepped. The walk through the valley to the river was longer than Charlie thought, and we'd both be starving by the time we got back. Every little time saver helped avoid "hanger" taking hold.
There was a wooden staircase from the cabin's property that led down about fifty stairs to Chimney Valley. The landing at the bottom is split into three different trails. The most popular and longest was the Whippoorwill Trail. It was a raised boardwalk that zigzagged through the tall grass and flowers of the valley and deposited you to the banks of the Tennessee River.
The walk was stunning. As you descend the stairs, you can smell the valley below you. The rush of the river is audible from so far out. And that noise mixes so well with the calls of birds and buzzing of bees. The valley was blooming, and countless wildflowers of different colors were all around us. You were surrounded by life, and it was mesmerizing.
We got down to the river and dipped our toes in. The water was freezing, so we decided to try to tackle a swim tomorrow. We sat at the water's edge and just talked and connected with one another. It was what I needed. It was what I craved.
It was also time-consuming. Before we realized it, the sun had started to set. We really didn't want to hike up those stairs in the dark, so we started back towards the cabin. Despite our best efforts, I assumed the night would catch up with us. When the sun sets behind the woods, it gets dark almost instantly. I couldn't help but think of Eddie telling us these woods were "deeper and darker than hell itself."
By the time we were halfway home, it was clear we'd be doing most of this hike in the dark. It was okay, though, because the valley was just as beautiful in the evening. A wind picked up, and the tall grass around us rolled like ocean waves in the breeze. There were more stars overhead than I had ever seen before. You could still hear the rush of the river, constant and calming. Charlie and I held hands and slowly walked along the boardwalk.
"This feels like a dream," Charlie said.
"I can't tell you how much I needed this."
"We needed this," Charlie corrected.
"We needed this," I echoed.
We slowed our pace and just enjoyed being with each other. Charlie rested their head on my shoulder, and we strolled along the boardwalk. I couldn't see the stairs, but I knew we were getting close. The thought of climbing old, rickety wooden stairs in the pitch black was not appealing.
"Look!" Charlie yelled, pointing out into the grass. "Oh my god, there are so many of them!"
I turned and saw the glowing lights of fireflies all around us. Green and yellow lights winked in the darkness. There must have been thousands. It instantly transported me to my childhood. I spent summers on my grandparent's farm in the country, and, at night, I'd stare out at the pastures as the fireflies arrived. I put my arm around Charlie and gave a squeeze.
"This is incredible," I said softly.
"I'm so glad we came down here tonight."
"Me too."
"I gotta get a picture," Charlie said, pulling out a phone. "Get close, and I'll get a selfie with the fireflies in the background.
"For the 'gram?" I said sarcastically.
Charlie ignored me, held up the phone, and snapped a photo. Unfortunately, the auto-flash was on, and the burst of light nearly blinded us.
"Ahh," I said, rubbing my eyes.
"I'm so sorry," Charlie said, trying to sound sincere but also laughing, "that was dumb of me."
"Auto-flash off," I said.
"Sorry," Charlie said, switching auto-flash off. "I'll put it on night mode, so it'll get everything, but you have to stand still for a few."
"I'll manage."
We tried again, and this time, we weren't blinded by the light. Charlie pulled up the photo and gave a little squeal of approval. "Look at how many fireflies there are!"
I took the phone and looked at the photo. We were surrounded by fireflies all around us. It really was an incredible photo. I always admired just how good Charlie was at taking photos. Even though it was just a selfie, Charlie managed to get so much depth to the shot.
I was about to return the phone when something in the photo caught my eye. I zoomed in on the space between Charlie and me and felt my body freeze. There were two fireflies between us in the shot. Or, I thought they were fireflies. On closer inspection, they were eyes.
Someone was standing on the boardwalk behind us.
I didn't want to say it out loud, but I needed to tell Charlie. I pulled up the memo pad and started typing. Charlie was confused.
"Hey, I was going to post it to Insta," Charlie said.
I held up the screen. All I wrote was, "someone is behind us." In the faint glow of the phone, I saw Charlie's face go from bliss to horrified.
Charlie took the phone from me and typed, "are you sure?"
I pulled up the photo and handed the phone over. Charlie looked at the photo, and their jaw dropped. The phone started shaking. I grabbed Charlie's hands and held them. I tried my best to calm us both down.
I leaned in close and whispered, "On three, we run."
"Okay," Charlie said, their voice shaking, "is that a Maymen?"
"I don't want to stick around to find out. You ready?"
Charlie nodded and pocketed the phone.
"Don't look back. Just run for the stairs, okay? One...two...three!"
We both took off like a rocket. At first, all I heard was our footsteps slapping against the boardwalk, and I wondered if my mind was playing tricks on me. Then I heard the high-pitched scream bellow from behind us. I felt it climb up my spine and lodge in my brain.
I've never run so fast in my life.
"What the fuck is that?!" Charlie screamed.
"Just run!"
Charlie got to the stairs first and started taking them two at a time. I was worried the weather-beaten stairs might break from us running up them, but it was a secondary concern at this point. From behind us, the creature was gaining speed. Its footsteps were violent when they hit the boardwalk. Worse, something was clearly digging into the wood with each step the monster took. Something sharp, like a knife.
I suddenly remembered Eddie mentioning blade arms.
"Keep going!"
I could feel the entire staircase shaking as we dashed up it. If these steps gave out, we'd be fucked. The only other way out of the valley was the river. That way was blocked now. I was about two-thirds of the way up when Charlie reached the top.
"Hurry up," Charlie pleaded.
"Go inside the cabin," I yelled, "I'm right behind you!"
Charlie waited a second and then took off. I was nearing the top of the stairs when I felt the stairs shake below me. I looked back and saw those green eyes staring up at me. The Maymen screamed again, and I put my hands over my ears to muffle the noise. It was like it was piercing my brain.
The moon came out from behind a cloud, and, in a fleeting second, I saw the light reflect off the arms of the creature. Eddie hadn't been mistaken. The creature had blades for arms. I watched as they dug into the wooden stairs and helped the Maymen launch up four stairs at once.
It was time to move.
I tore ass up the last few steps and reached the top in a flash. Charlie was standing in the cabin's doorway, pleading for me to hurry. I could hear the Maymen launching up more stairs and knew we had limited time.
I ran over to Charlie, who was frantic at this point. I slammed the door behind us and locked it. I glanced around the room and saw the big bed. That would block anyone from opening the door.
"The bed," I said, and Charlie knew exactly what I had planned. We dragged that big bastard in front of the door and pressed against it. We were bracing for the Maymen to crash into the cabin.
"What the fuck is happening?" Charlie asked.
"I dunno. But we're safe inside."
"Are we?"
"I have to believe that," I admitted.
When the Maymen reached the top of the stairs, it bellowed again. We both covered our ears. The scream echoed across the valley. I had a hard time believing everyone in Trailend didn't hear it.
We waited for the creature to start battering the door, but nothing happened. I glanced up from behind the bed and looked through the windows to see if I could spot the creature. I didn't see anything. I knew it was out there, but where was it?
Suddenly, I heard something THUMP on the roof. It had launched itself up there, but why? Why not take the… Then I remembered what Eddie said about chimneys.
"It's going to come down the chimney," I said out loud to myself.
"Fire," Charlie said.
"I need a lighter. Gimmie a lighter."
Charlie fished in their pockets for a few seconds and pulled out an old zippo. I snagged it and made my way to the fireplace. Above me, I heard the Maymen struggle to find it's footing on the slanted roof, but it was clear where they were heading.
When I got to the fireplace, I remembered that I had set up a fire already. I started laughing at my dumb luck. My hands trembled as I tried to flick the wheel on the zippo, trying to get a flame going.
"Come on, come on!"
The Maymen reached the top of the chimney and let out another yell. I was so scared that I dropped the zippo. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I said, scooping
it back up and frantically spinning the flint. It would spark, but no flame caught.
"Fucking light already, you piece of shit!"
I heard the blade arms dig into the river rock at the top of the chimney. The Maymen would be inside the cabin in a matter of seconds, and we had blocked off the only way in and out.
My heart raced. I could feel my blood rushing in my veins. My fingers desperately tried to coax a flame out of the zippo. I could hear the Maymen push its large body into the chimney. I'd be face to face with it in an instant.
"Come on!" Charlie yelled.
"I'm trying!"
I could hear the blades dig into the rock and the massive body inch forward. The Maymen screamed again, and I could feel the sound waves blast my hair back. A trickle of blood came out of my left ear, but I ignored it.
I pressed down hard on the wheel and spun it so hard it left the gear-like indention in my thumb. But it worked. The spark finally caught. I had a flame. Just as I saw the tip of the blade reach the fireplace opening, I dropped the zippo into the "instant start" hay kindling and watched the fire ignite.
The Maymen screamed again, but this wasn't the same as before. It was in pain. The blade retreated, and I heard the body start to shuffle up the chimney to escape the growing fire. I heard it reach the top of the chimney again and scream. It dug its blade arms into the roof and launched itself into the darkness of the woods. As quickly as it arrived, it was gone.
I laid back on the ground and started laughing. I didn't know what else to do. Charlie crawled over to me, and we laid in each other's arms. We didn't say a word for the longest time. We just embraced. I knew then that I loved Charlie.
"Think this is what they mean by the restorative healing of mother nature?" I asked.
Charlie started cracking up. I joined in. We laid there for a few minutes more, laughing and coming down from the adrenaline spike. This was not the relaxing trip I had hoped for.
Eventually, as expected, Charlie fell asleep first. I stayed up the rest of the night, feeding the fire and ensuring the light never went out. Sometime around dawn, I dozed off for a spell, but the sunlight streaming through the windows woke me up.
Charlie woke up and stretched out. "We okay?"
"Right as rain," I said with an exhausted sigh.
"We're leaving, right?"
"Fuck yes," I said.
We pushed the bed back in place and packed our bags up. I lit one of the last logs like a torch and opened the door. I didn't think the Maymen was there, but I didn't want to be caught off guard either. I felt dumb holding it, but I didn't care.
"I can drive first," Charlie offered, and I instantly agreed. I needed to get some real sleep. I could feel the weariness in my bones. I'd be out five seconds into the drive.
Charlie loaded up the last of the bags and slammed Deep Blue's hatchback door closed. "Think this girl will make it home?"
"I never doubt Deep Blue."
"You're the only one," Charlie said with a wink as they entered the car.
I walked over to the outdoor fire pit to put down my torch when I heard something shuffling at the edge of the woods. I gripped the log tight in my hands. I assumed these creatures only moved around at night, but I had no idea if that was true.
"Start the car," I yelled over my shoulder.
I could hear Charlie turning the key and the engine struggling to catch. Another turn, and the engine sputtered but did not start. A third time with the same result. Charlie leaned out the window, "Could anything else go wrong?"
That's when we heard the Maymen scream.
It burst out from the woods in front of me. It arced in the sky, heading right towards me. Time slowed down as the monster descended on me. I heard Charlie yell. I heard the car struggle to start again. I saw the sun reflect off the blade arms that were mere feet from my body. And I saw my reflection in those firefly eyes.
I also remembered I was holding a torch.
As soon as the Maymen was a foot from me, I slammed the torch into its face. The creature screamed and went up like it was soaked in gasoline. It crashed into me, but I kicked it off and scrambled to my feet.
I dashed to the car and slid inside. "Go, go, go!"
Charlie cranked the key. Nothing. Cranked again. Nothing. Cranked a third time. Nothing. "I fucking hate you, Deep Blue!"
I looked in the rear view and saw the Maymen, fully engulfed in flames, steady themselves and try to stand back up. I patted Deep Blue on the dash and whispered, "Come on, girl, for me?"
Charlie cranked the key again, and the engine caught. It roared to life. In a second, Charlie shifted into drive and floored the peddle. We fishtailed on the dirt road, but the tires caught, and we flew down the mountain.
"You're getting a new car," Charlie said. "Deep Blue's had a good run but, fuck."
"I know," I answered. "I know."
We didn't stop driving for three hours. We both flipped off the "Welcome to Trailend" sign as we drove past. It was safe to say we'd never be coming back.
Against the odds, things improved after the trip. I think when you face death, it helps to put things into perspective. Charlie and I had a long talk and decided we wanted to stay together. We're still going strong. Work got better, too, once I learned to leave the bullshit at the office. I'm still struggling to find my dream job, but this is America. We're all struggling.
Last night, after Charlie fell asleep during the movie we were watching on Netflix, I went out on our balcony and watched the city below. The noise of the city isn't as comforting as the wind through the pine needles, but it has its charms. I took a sip of my beer and let the noise enrapture me.
Then I heard it. A scream. THE Maymen scream. I snapped back up and scanned the area but didn't see anything. No fireflies. No blade arms. Nothing. Maybe I was hearing things. I must've been. I saw it burn. I probably had PTSD from the encounter. Regardless, I went back inside and turned on our propane fireplace. If it came back, I'd finish the job.
I burned you once, I thought, I'll do it again.

The adventures never stop with my fixer upper and I've got a new one for you kind folks.
Moisture ants started coming up from the crawlspace, which is not what I want to see after having repaired a lot of rot damage 2 years ago. So I suited up and dove into the crawlspace to see what's what.
Turns out that the original builder left untreated plywood forms around the concrete slab that our fireplace sits on top of. Naturally, as untreated wood does when in direct contact with concrete, it was rotting and the moisture ants decided to make it their home. I removed that sucker and now have two situations I need some input on.
Album for reference pictures (in order with below): https://imgur.com/a/rXIaglQ
1) How to deal with gap in foundation
Problem: One side of the plywood form was sandwiched between the exterior foundation. Now there's a large gap (~1") in the foundation where the form once was.
Idea: My current thought is to clean out as much dirt as possible. Then wiggle a foam rod in the gap and fill on both sides with hydraulic cement. Is there a better way?
2) How to deal with unfastened joists
Problem: 2 of the floor joists were just butted up against the plywood form and propped up with rotting 2x4s (guess I know why the floor slopes now.) Oh, and they were unfastened, neat huh?
Idea: Use a bottle jack to raise the joists where they may have sunk and then fasten the joists to the foundation using joist hangers. However, one of the joists is a bit short and I'm not sure it has enough length for a joist hanger to work, but I'll know more after a trip to the hardware store. If it is too short, I could sister 2x8's on each side? Better ways to do this?

Trailend is a town that lives up to its name. It's a sleepy hamlet nestled between the banks of the Tennessee River and the foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. During the warmer months, it caters to all types of outdoorsy folks looking to leave civilization behind for a long weekend. A year ago, I was one of those weekend warriors. I couldn't wait to get lost in the woods for a few days and feel the "restorative healing of mother nature" work its charms on my battered psyche.
Back then, my life was in shambles. I had graduated college with massive student loan debt and few prospects in my chosen field. I applied to every job that fit my degree but couldn't even land an interview. Needing money, I took a day job to help pay the bills until I could find something more permanent. Six months later, I was still at my day job, and most of my prospects had dried up.
Worse, the stress from my day job was eating my soul. I loved my co-workers, but management – as usual – was the worst. Every encounter, no matter how benign, left you feeling emotionally drained. The daily onslaught of being micromanaged into the ground was enough to make you want to jump out of the building. I'll give our company credit for one thing – they made the office building windows hard to break and thus saved countless lives.
On top of that, my significant other Charlie and I were at an inflection point. We both were pondering the future, and only one of us was curious if it included the other person. In our best moments, our bickering was playful and fun. Lately, that had all started to curdle into bitterness and anger. Suddenly, my home went from being a refuge to a black hole of suck.
At the time, it felt like my life was darkening, and I wasn't sure I had a light to see my way out.
Our trip to Trailend was very much needed for a multitude of reasons. I was hoping to not only unwind and relax in the woods but also reconnect. If the trip went well, my relationship had a fighting chance. I didn't want to think about what lay ahead if things went sideways.
We drove up together in my old beater. Now, I love my car—whom I lovingly referred to as Deep Blue for reasons lost to me – but my better half was not a fan. In fact, they were confident Deep Blue couldn't handle the drive. I wouldn't hear it.
Was Deep Blue ugly? Yes, yes, she was. Did she have over two hundred thousand miles on it? Of course, she did. Was she loud and had a constant check engine light glowing? All classic cars do. But I believed in her. Despite my initial confidence, I was worried Deep Blue might not have the umpf needed to push ahead as the roads inclined. Thank God for small miracles. The ol' girl pulled through.
Our cabin was in the middle of nowhere and looked like it was built during Abraham Lincoln's lifetime, but it was better than a tent. The interiors of the place were a touch better but not by much. The perk of the place was a big river rock fireplace and a surprisingly comfortable king-sized bed.
The condition of the cabin was a secondary concern for the trip. The real beauty was the view. From the cabin's front porch, you had a view of a golden valley filled with tall sweet grass that swayed in the breeze. There was a wooden walkway that cut through the grass and led to the banks of the river. It was a sight to behold.
On the opposite side of the valley was a dense piney woods so thick with trees it got dark hours before the rest of the valley did. When the wind blew, you could hear it push through the millions of pine needles, and it sounded like the ocean. If you closed your eyes, you could trick your brain into thinking that you were near the beach. It was the salve I needed to help heal me.
After we brought in everything from Deep Blue and set up the cabin, we thought we should head down into town and grab some supplies. We needed the essentials – chocolate, marshmallows, and graham crackers – but also, like, real food, water, and beer. I was going to grab a couple of cords of wood for both the fire pit outside and that inviting fireplace. I could already feel the tension melting away. Charlie and I both could.
We stopped at Eddie's Shack, the local general store, and picked up everything we'd need for the long weekend. It was fun, actually. We joked around like we had at the start of the relationship. Nobody put on airs. We were goofy and lovey and remembered that we still liked one another. If this was a portent of the weekend ahead, I was ecstatic.
Then we met Eddie.
Eddie was straight from small-town central casting. He was older, though how old, who could tell. His salt and pepper hair was tucked underneath a weathered Bass Pro Shop trucker's hat. He wore a red and black plaid shirt that looked "well worn" with black suspenders pinning it down to his shoulders. Honest to God, when we saw him, he was whittling a block of wood into the shape of an old-timey truck.
"City folk?" Eddie asked without looking up.
"How can you tell?" I asked.
He just laughed. I stole a glance with my partner and rolled my eyes.
"Where you staying?"
"Cabin up near Chimney Valley," I said.
"Nice spot. You up to fish? Hunt? Camp?"
"Relax," I said.
"Good place to do that," Eddie said, finally looking up. "Well, aren't you two a good lookin' pair."
We both blushed a bit. "Thank you," Charlie said with a smirk, "I think so too."
"Ever been up this way before," Eddie asked, finally putting down his whittling and ringing up our supplies.
"Nope," I said. "First time."
"Beautiful country," he said, whistling for emphasis.
"It really is amazing," Charlie said, "We're above the Whippoorwill trail. I can't wait to walk through that field. So many pretty wildflowers."
"I saw some pictures on Instagram of the fireflies in the field at night," I added, "I think we should walk down there later and see it first hand."
Eddie chuckled to himself and shook his head.
"Not as good as advertised?"
"No, it's pretty enough," he said, "but if I were you, I wouldn't go wandering in the valley at night. Not at all."
"Wild animals," Charlie offered.
"Things like that but not that," came the reply.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"You have any idea how old those woods are? That mountain range? Older than Jesus himself," Eddie said, adding another whistle. "Older than the good lord and deeper and darker than hell itself. Lots of things out there that we don't know about."
I looked at Charlie, and my eyes screamed, "We should leave," but Charlie wasn't quite ready. I saw that inquisitive look on their face and knew we weren't going anywhere. Charlie had been hooked by Eddie's ramblings.
"But you're only thinking on one thing out there, right?" Charlie asked.
Eddie nodded as he bagged the marshmallows, "Yup. I'm thinking of one specific creature I'd avoid."
"Are there others you'd invite in for tea?" I asked, trying to bring a little levity to a story that was taking a bleak turn.
Eddie laughed. "Not really. 'Sides, not a tea drinker myself. I'm more of a bourbon man."
"What's the creature," Charlie asked?
"They come as fireflies," Eddie said as he put the chocolate bars in the bag, "but they don't stay that way. That's how they get around. How they blend in. Once they change, though, hoo boy."
I wanted to say I don't remember seeing any monsters on the insta feed but thought the remark would arrive DOA. Plus, I wasn't sure I wanted to learn more about these creatures or stories about these creatures. I know how my brain works. Later tonight, when Charlie inevitably falls asleep before me, I'll be stressing about firefly monsters.
"What is it?" Charlie asked again.
Eddie looked up. His lower lip was bumped out from dip – his teeth bore the tell-tale staining of a habitual user. He looked Charlie dead in the eyes and said, "The Maymen."
"What the hell are the Maymen?"
"I don't know exactly, but I do know to stay away from them."
"What do you know?"
"Are they people?" I asked, dreading the answer.
"In a way, yes, and in a way no," he said. "I hear they look like a person but taller. And their eyes glow green, that's how they blend in with the fireflies, but that ain't the worst part."
We waited with bated breath, but Eddie just handed us our bags and said, "That'll be twenty-two thirty-five."
I reached for my wallet, but Charlie knocked my arm down, "Eddie, what's the worst part?"
"Oh," he said, "they got long blades for arms, and once they spot you…" He trailed off.
"Do they follow?"
"Oh yes," Eddie said, spitting into a little Styrofoam cup. "Need to get near a fire to keep them at bay. Or so I'm told. Again, I ain't never seen one for myself."
"I wouldn't want to either," I said, handing over some cash to Eddie.
"If you got a fireplace in your cabin," he said, handing me my change, "I'd keep a fire burning just in case. They can't use doors, but they can come down chimneys."
"Maybe I'll take another cord of wood," I said, handing over a five.
"Have a good one now, okay? Enjoy mother nature. She's a beautiful woman!"
We hustled out of the store and let Eddie return to his whittling. We stayed quiet for the first ten minutes in Deep Blue, but I knew it wouldn't last. Charlie was busting at the seams.
"The fuck was that back there?" Charlie finally blurted out.
"Oh man, I have no clue."
"The Maymen?"
"They come as fireflies," I said, doing my best to mimic Eddie's voice.
The review of my attempt was sudden. Charlie blanched and gave me a thumbs down. "That was rough."
"It's a work in progress," I countered.
"You think there is anything…."
"No," I said before Charlie finished speaking, "they are some backwoods stories designed by bored people to scare tourists."
"Did it work," Charlie said, needling me.
"No," I lied. "I don't think Eddie is a reliable narrator."
Charlie laughed. "Probably not. Hey, did you grab some booze back there?"
"Yeah,
why?"
It was Charlie's turn to mimic Eddie's voice, "Ain't much of a tea drinker myself. I'm a bourbon man."
I glanced over at Charlie and nodded. Yes, the impression was spot on. Of course, it was. It ALWAYS is. Charlie laughed. I did too. It was nice.
We got back to the cabin with some daylight still left. I wanted to get an early jump on dinner, but Charlie wanted to hit the trail before it got dark. "You don't want to walk in the river?"
"I do, but dinner…"
"Will be here when we get back."
"Should I start a fire?"
"Prep a fire," Charlie countered, "and let's hope the Maymen leave your carefully balanced wood alone."
"So, so funny," I said and went about setting up the fire in the fireplace. It was a smart idea to get this prepped. The walk through the valley to the river was longer than Charlie thought, and we'd both be starving by the time we got back. Every little time saver helped avoid "hanger" taking hold.
There was a wooden staircase from the cabin's property that led down about fifty stairs to Chimney Valley. The landing at the bottom is split into three different trails. The most popular and longest was the Whippoorwill Trail. It was a raised boardwalk that zigzagged through the tall grass and flowers of the valley and deposited you to the banks of the Tennessee River.
The walk was stunning. As you descend the stairs, you can smell the valley below you. The rush of the river is audible from so far out. And that noise mixes so well with the calls of birds and buzzing of bees. The valley was blooming, and countless wildflowers of different colors were all around us. You were surrounded by life, and it was mesmerizing.
We got down to the river and dipped our toes in. The water was freezing, so we decided to try to tackle a swim tomorrow. We sat at the water's edge and just talked and connected with one another. It was what I needed. It was what I craved.
It was also time-consuming. Before we realized it, the sun had started to set. We really didn't want to hike up those stairs in the dark, so we started back towards the cabin. Despite our best efforts, I assumed the night would catch up with us. When the sun sets behind the woods, it gets dark almost instantly. I couldn't help but think of Eddie telling us these woods were "deeper and darker than hell itself."
By the time we were halfway home, it was clear we'd be doing most of this hike in the dark. It was okay, though, because the valley was just as beautiful in the evening. A wind picked up, and the tall grass around us rolled like ocean waves in the breeze. There were more stars overhead than I had ever seen before. You could still hear the rush of the river, constant and calming. Charlie and I held hands and slowly walked along the boardwalk.
"This feels like a dream," Charlie said.
"I can't tell you how much I needed this."
"We needed this," Charlie corrected.
"We needed this," I echoed.
We slowed our pace and just enjoyed being with each other. Charlie rested their head on my shoulder, and we strolled along the boardwalk. I couldn't see the stairs, but I knew we were getting close. The thought of climbing old, rickety wooden stairs in the pitch black was not appealing.
"Look!" Charlie yelled, pointing out into the grass. "Oh my god, there are so many of them!"
I turned and saw the glowing lights of fireflies all around us. Green and yellow lights winked in the darkness. There must have been thousands. It instantly transported me to my childhood. I spent summers on my grandparent's farm in the country, and, at night, I'd stare out at the pastures as the fireflies arrived. I put my arm around Charlie and gave a squeeze.
"This is incredible," I said softly.
"I'm so glad we came down here tonight."
"Me too."
"I gotta get a picture," Charlie said, pulling out a phone. "Get close, and I'll get a selfie with the fireflies in the background.
"For the 'gram?" I said sarcastically.
Charlie ignored me, held up the phone, and snapped a photo. Unfortunately, the auto-flash was on, and the burst of light nearly blinded us.
"Ahh," I said, rubbing my eyes.
"I'm so sorry," Charlie said, trying to sound sincere but also laughing, "that was dumb of me."
"Auto-flash off," I said.
"Sorry," Charlie said, switching auto-flash off. "I'll put it on night mode, so it'll get everything, but you have to stand still for a few."
"I'll manage."
We tried again, and this time, we weren't blinded by the light. Charlie pulled up the photo and gave a little squeal of approval. "Look at how many fireflies there are!"
I took the phone and looked at the photo. We were surrounded by fireflies all around us. It really was an incredible photo. I always admired just how good Charlie was at taking photos. Even though it was just a selfie, Charlie managed to get so much depth to the shot.
I was about to return the phone when something in the photo caught my eye. I zoomed in on the space between Charlie and me and felt my body freeze. There were two fireflies between us in the shot. Or, I thought they were fireflies. On closer inspection, they were eyes.
Someone was standing on the boardwalk behind us.
I didn't want to say it out loud, but I needed to tell Charlie. I pulled up the memo pad and started typing. Charlie was confused.
"Hey, I was going to post it to Insta," Charlie said.
I held up the screen. All I wrote was, "someone is behind us." In the faint glow of the phone, I saw Charlie's face go from bliss to horrified.
Charlie took the phone from me and typed, "are you sure?"
I pulled up the photo and handed the phone over. Charlie looked at the photo, and their jaw dropped. The phone started shaking. I grabbed Charlie's hands and held them. I tried my best to calm us both down.
I leaned in close and whispered, "On three, we run."
"Okay," Charlie said, their voice shaking, "is that a Maymen?"
"I don't want to stick around to find out. You ready?"
Charlie nodded and pocketed the phone.
"Don't look back. Just run for the stairs, okay? One...two...three!"
We both took off like a rocket. At first, all I heard was our footsteps slapping against the boardwalk, and I wondered if my mind was playing tricks on me. Then I heard the high-pitched scream bellow from behind us. I felt it climb up my spine and lodge in my brain.
I've never run so fast in my life.
"What the fuck is that?!" Charlie screamed.
"Just run!"
Charlie got to the stairs first and started taking them two at a time. I was worried the weather-beaten stairs might break from us running up them, but it was a secondary concern at this point. From behind us, the creature was gaining speed. Its footsteps were violent when they hit the boardwalk. Worse, something was clearly digging into the wood with each step the monster took. Something sharp, like a knife.
I suddenly remembered Eddie mentioning blade arms.
"Keep going!"
I could feel the entire staircase shaking as we dashed up it. If these steps gave out, we'd be fucked. The only other way out of the valley was the river. That way was blocked now. I was about two-thirds of the way up when Charlie reached the top.
"Hurry up," Charlie pleaded.
"Go inside the cabin," I yelled, "I'm right behind you!"
Charlie waited a second and then took off. I was nearing the top of the stairs when I felt the stairs shake below me. I looked back and saw those green eyes staring up at me. The Maymen screamed again, and I put my hands over my ears to muffle the noise. It was like it was piercing my brain.
The moon came out from behind a cloud, and, in a fleeting second, I saw the light reflect off the arms of the creature. Eddie hadn't been mistaken. The creature had blades for arms. I watched as they dug into the wooden stairs and helped the Maymen launch up four stairs at once.
It was time to move.
I tore ass up the last few steps and reached the top in a flash. Charlie was standing in the cabin's doorway, pleading for me to hurry. I could hear the Maymen launching up more stairs and knew we had limited time.
I ran over to Charlie, who was frantic at this point. I slammed the door behind us and locked it. I glanced around the room and saw the big bed. That would block anyone from opening the door.
"The bed," I said, and Charlie knew exactly what I had planned. We dragged that big bastard in front of the door and pressed against it. We were bracing for the Maymen to crash into the cabin.
"What the fuck is happening?" Charlie asked.
"I dunno. But we're safe inside."
"Are we?"
"I have to believe that," I admitted.
When the Maymen reached the top of the stairs, it bellowed again. We both covered our ears. The scream echoed across the valley. I had a hard time believing everyone in Trailend didn't hear it.
We waited for the creature to start battering the door, but nothing happened. I glanced up from behind the bed and looked through the windows to see if I could spot the creature. I didn't see anything. I knew it was out there, but where was it?
Suddenly, I heard something THUMP on the roof. It had launched itself up there, but why? Why not take the… Then I remembered what Eddie said about chimneys.
"It's going to come down the chimney," I said out loud to myself.
"Fire," Charlie said.
"I need a lighter. Gimmie a lighter."
Charlie fished in their pockets for a few seconds and pulled out an old zippo. I snagged it and made my way to the fireplace. Above me, I heard the Maymen struggle to find it's footing on the slanted roof, but it was clear where they were heading.
When I got to the fireplace, I remembered that I had set up a fire already. I started laughing at my dumb luck. My hands trembled as I tried to flick the wheel on the zippo, trying to get a flame going.
"Come on, come on!"
The Maymen reached the top of the chimney and let out another yell. I was so scared that I dropped the zippo. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I said, scooping
it back up and frantically spinning the flint. It would spark, but no flame caught.
"Fucking light already, you piece of shit!"
I heard the blade arms dig into the river rock at the top of the chimney. The Maymen would be inside the cabin in a matter of seconds, and we had blocked off the only way in and out.
My heart raced. I could feel my blood rushing in my veins. My fingers desperately tried to coax a flame out of the zippo. I could hear the Maymen push its large body into the chimney. I'd be face to face with it in an instant.
"Come on!" Charlie yelled.
"I'm trying!"
I could hear the blades dig into the rock and the massive body inch forward. The Maymen screamed again, and I could feel the sound waves blast my hair back. A trickle of blood came out of my left ear, but I ignored it.
I pressed down hard on the wheel and spun it so hard it left the gear-like indention in my thumb. But it worked. The spark finally caught. I had a flame. Just as I saw the tip of the blade reach the fireplace opening, I dropped the zippo into the "instant start" hay kindling and watched the fire ignite.
The Maymen screamed again, but this wasn't the same as before. It was in pain. The blade retreated, and I heard the body start to shuffle up the chimney to escape the growing fire. I heard it reach the top of the chimney again and scream. It dug its blade arms into the roof and launched itself into the darkness of the woods. As quickly as it arrived, it was gone.
I laid back on the ground and started laughing. I didn't know what else to do. Charlie crawled over to me, and we laid in each other's arms. We didn't say a word for the longest time. We just embraced. I knew then that I loved Charlie.
"Think this is what they mean by the restorative healing of mother nature?" I asked.
Charlie started cracking up. I joined in. We laid there for a few minutes more, laughing and coming down from the adrenaline spike. This was not the relaxing trip I had hoped for.
Eventually, as expected, Charlie fell asleep first. I stayed up the rest of the night, feeding the fire and ensuring the light never went out. Sometime around dawn, I dozed off for a spell, but the sunlight streaming through the windows woke me up.
Charlie woke up and stretched out. "We okay?"
"Right as rain," I said with an exhausted sigh.
"We're leaving, right?"
"Fuck yes," I said.
We pushed the bed back in place and packed our bags up. I lit one of the last logs like a torch and opened the door. I didn't think the Maymen was there, but I didn't want to be caught off guard either. I felt dumb holding it, but I didn't care.
"I can drive first," Charlie offered, and I instantly agreed. I needed to get some real sleep. I could feel the weariness in my bones. I'd be out five seconds into the drive.
Charlie loaded up the last of the bags and slammed Deep Blue's hatchback door closed. "Think this girl will make it home?"
"I never doubt Deep Blue."
"You're the only one," Charlie said with a wink as they entered the car.
I walked over to the outdoor fire pit to put down my torch when I heard something shuffling at the edge of the woods. I gripped the log tight in my hands. I assumed these creatures only moved around at night, but I had no idea if that was true.
"Start the car," I yelled over my shoulder.
I could hear Charlie turning the key and the engine struggling to catch. Another turn, and the engine sputtered but did not start. A third time with the same result. Charlie leaned out the window, "Could anything else go wrong?"
That's when we heard the Maymen scream.
It burst out from the woods in front of me. It arced in the sky, heading right towards me. Time slowed down as the monster descended on me. I heard Charlie yell. I heard the car struggle to start again. I saw the sun reflect off the blade arms that were mere feet from my body. And I saw my reflection in those firefly eyes.
I also remembered I was holding a torch.
As soon as the Maymen was a foot from me, I slammed the torch into its face. The creature screamed and went up like it was soaked in gasoline. It crashed into me, but I kicked it off and scrambled to my feet.
I dashed to the car and slid inside. "Go, go, go!"
Charlie cranked the key. Nothing. Cranked again. Nothing. Cranked a third time. Nothing. "I fucking hate you, Deep Blue!"
I looked in the rear view and saw the Maymen, fully engulfed in flames, steady themselves and try to stand back up. I patted Deep Blue on the dash and whispered, "Come on, girl, for me?"
Charlie cranked the key again, and the engine caught. It roared to life. In a second, Charlie shifted into drive and floored the peddle. We fishtailed on the dirt road, but the tires caught, and we flew down the mountain.
"You're getting a new car," Charlie said. "Deep Blue's had a good run but, fuck."
"I know," I answered. "I know."
We didn't stop driving for three hours. We both flipped off the "Welcome to Trailend" sign as we drove past. It was safe to say we'd never be coming back.
Against the odds, things improved after the trip. I think when you face death, it helps to put things into perspective. Charlie and I had a long talk and decided we wanted to stay together. We're still going strong. Work got better, too, once I learned to leave the bullshit at the office. I'm still struggling to find my dream job, but this is America. We're all struggling.
Last night, after Charlie fell asleep during the movie we were watching on Netflix, I went out on our balcony and watched the city below. The noise of the city isn't as comforting as the wind through the pine needles, but it has its charms. I took a sip of my beer and let the noise enrapture me.
Then I heard it. A scream. THE Maymen scream. I snapped back up and scanned the area but didn't see anything. No fireflies. No blade arms. Nothing. Maybe I was hearing things. I must've been. I saw it burn. I probably had PTSD from the encounter. Regardless, I went back inside and turned on our propane fireplace. If it came back, I'd finish the job.
I burned you once, I thought, I'll do it again.

As many of you know, each Airbnb “amenity” has a code (a number). AirbnBase has a “Superfilter” which some of you may have experimented with. IMO, it doesn’t work very well. When it does, only one amenity is searchable at a time.
Any amenity code can be found by viewing a listing with that amenity, using Inspect Element in your browser, and directing its focus to the specific amenity on the list.
​
Example:
Hairdryer shows as: id="pdp_v3_bathroom_45_579673668151623486-0-row-title”
Mountain View shows as: id="pdp_v3_scenic_view_12_579673668151623486-0-row-title”
The hairdryer code is 45, and mountain view is 12.
​
We can create a custom URL to meet our exact search requirements. As far as I know, it will search the whole US, regardless of the city searched. If the map is moved or zoomed, it will disrupt the search.
I’ll break down each part of the URL, then give a full example URL and explain what it searches for.
​
PART 1: BASE URL & LOCATION

https://www.airbnb.com/s/United-States/homes?place_id=ChIJCzYy5IS16lQRQrfeQ5K5Oxw 

To search a different location, like Europe, do a regular Airbnb search for that location, and replace this part of the URL with the same portion of the one that comes up.
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PART 2: CHECK-IN / CHECK-OUT DATES

&checkin=YYYY-MM-DD &checkout=YYYY-MM-DD 

Put in your own check-in/check-out dates, or delete this portion of the URL to search without dates.
​
PART 3: ROOM TYPES

&room_types%5B%5D=Entire%20home%2Fapt &room_types%5B%5D=Private%20room &room_types%5B%5D=Shared%20room 

Any or all of these lines can be in the URL, to search for entire homes, private rooms, or shared rooms.
​
PART 4: BEDROOMS, BEDS, BATHROOMS COUNT

&min_bedrooms=2 &min_beds=2 &min_bathrooms=2 

Use this portion of the URL to specify the minimum number of bedrooms, beds, and bathrooms. Whole numbers only.
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PART 5: PROPERTY TYPES

&l2_property_type_ids%5B%5D=1 &l2_property_type_ids%5B%5D=2 &l2_property_type_ids%5B%5D=3 &l2_property_type_ids%5B%5D=4 

Put one, or any combination of these lines in the URL, one after another, to choose the property type(s).
1 = House
2 = Guest House
3 = Apartment
4 = Hotel
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PART 6: AMENITIES

&amenities%5B%5D=4 &amenities%5B%5D=5 

Add any number of amenities, one after another, just like this. This example searches for a place with wifi (4) and air conditioning (5). List of amenity codes below.
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PART 7: HOST

&superhost=true &languages%5B%5D=1 

The superhost value searches for superhosts only. The value can be set as true or false.
Each host language has a number. To find the number for a specific language, do a regular Airbnb search, and filter for hosts of that language. Check this portion of the URL to find the corresponding number for that language.
​
PART 8: PRICE PER NIGHT MIN/MAX

&price_min=100 &price_max=2500 

This portion sets the minimum/maximum price per night of the results. This example searches for places between $100-2,500 per night. It doesn't account for cleaning fees, service fees, or taxes.
​
Full example URL:

https://www.airbnb.com/s/United-States/homes?place_id=ChIJCzYy5IS16lQRQrfeQ5K5Oxw&checkin=2022-01-04&checkout=2022-01-08&room_types%5B%5D=Entire%20home%2Fapt&min_bedrooms=3&min_beds=3&min_bathrooms=2&l2_property_type_ids%5B%5D=1&l2_property_type_ids%5B%5D=2&amenities%5B%5D=4&amenities%5B%5D=227&amenities%5B%5D=5&amenities%5B%5D=57&superhost=true&languages%5B%5D=1&price_min=225&price_max=750 

This URL searches for entire homes within the United States, for a January 4, 2022 check-in and January 8, 2022 check-out; houses and guest houses only; at least 3 bedrooms, at least 3 beds, and at least 2 full bathrooms; with wifi, exercise equipment, air conditioning, and a private entrance for amenities; English-speaking superhosts only, from $225-750 per night.
​
Known amenity codes:
​
1 - Television
4 - Wifi
5 - Air Conditioning
8 - Kitchen
9 - Free Parking On Premises
12 - Pets Allowed
15 - Gym
23 - Free Street Parking
25 - Hot Tub
27 - Indoor Fireplace
30 - Heating
33 - Washer
34 - Dryer
35 - Smoke Alarm
37 - First Aid Kit
39 - Fire Extinguisher
40 - Essentials 1: towels, bed sheets, soap, toilet paper
41 - Shampoo
44 - Hangers
45 - Hair Dryer
46 - Iron
47 - Dedicated Workspace
51 - Self Check-In
52 - Smart Lock Entry (?)
53 - Keypad Entry (?)
54 - Lockbox
57 - Private Entrance
61 - Bathtub
64 - High Chair
66 - Children's Books & Toys
69 - Fireplace Guards
70 - Babysitter Recommendations
72 - Crib
73 - Room Darkening Shades
74 - Children's Dinnerware
77 - Hot Water
79 - Body Soap
85 - Bed Linens
86 - Essentials 3: extra pillows & blankets
87 - Ethernet Connection
89 - Microwave
90 - Coffee Maker
91 - Refrigerator
92 - Dishwasher
93 - Essentials 4: bowls, plates, cups
94 - Essentials 2: pots, pans, oil, salt, pepper
95 - Oven
96 - Stove
97 - EV Charger
98 - Single Level Home
99 - BBQ Grill
100 - Patio / Balcony
101 - Backyard
102 - Essentials: Beach towels, umbrella, beach blanket, snorkeling gear
103 - Luggage Drop Off Allowed
104 - Long Term Stays Allowed
107 - Cleaning Before Checkout
129 - Host Greets You
132 - Waterfront
133 - Lake Access
137 - Hot Water Kettle
139 - Ceiling Fan
146 - Mini Fridge
153 - Hammock
172 - Kayak
179 - Outdoor Dining Area
185 - Sound System
201 - Bikes
219 - Fire Pit
223 - Sauna
227 - Exercise Equipment
236 - Dining Table
251 - Toaster
258 - Private Pool
280 - Outdoor Furniture
308 - Freezer
322 - Blender
392 - Board Games
394 - Books & Reading Material
415 - Coffee
515 - Ping Pong Table
521 - Pool Table
522 - Portable Fans
527 - Record Player
611 - Shower Gel
625 - Essentials: baking sheet
626 - BBQ Utensils
657 - Conditioner
663 - Laundromat Nearby
664 - Boat Slip
665 - Cleaning Products
667 - Drying Rack For Clothing
671 - Clothing Storage
672 - Wine Glasses
674 - Beach Access
9999 - Security Cameras On Property
​
Comment with more amenity codes below, and I'll add them.
​
*Note: Not all hosts list their amenities properly/completely. Doing a highly specific search might yield no results. Last updated October 2022.

*DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CONTENT USED IN ANY OF THESE VIDEOS, NOR ANY OF THE AUDIO\*
*INCLUDES SPOILERS SERIES 1-9\*
​
I've plans to re-watch Doctor Who starting 27th of November, with a family member of mine who has never* seen it before.
*Has seen

The Snowmen (S7E6) in ~ January-February 2013 Asylum of the Daleks (S7E1) - The Snowmen (S7E6) - Bells of Saint John (S7E7) - The Name of the Doctor (S7E13) in March 2022 // This was before I had plans to show the entire\ show* // Flatline (S8E9) in September 2022

This family member has expressed doubts about the show several times, and I'm worried she won't give it the benefit of the doubt and stick around for long.
​
Therefore I've shown her a couple of Doctor Who "highlight" videos, starting off mainly with the 11th Doctor only as I didn't want to spoil the others. Ended up spoiling the others by accident any way when I ordered the first 9 series of the show via Amazon, and she unpacked it for me thinking she was being helpful.
-Which lead to instead showing "highlights" of all* Doctors (War-13). These "highlights" have been mainly spoiler free, only hinting at certain spoilers but never enough for a person who hasn't seen the show before to "puzzle" together pieces. Still after seven different "highlights" totaling about 33 minutes of content (some recycled), I feel I have not yet convinced her.
-Therefore, I've gathered 9 more "highlights".. in hopes of changing her mind (and if not, at least I'll know there is no point in watching the show). These "highlights" are of course not created by me. The true creators are credited near the bottom of this thread. I've only blurred a few scenes, cut the audio some places (Original plan was to keep the song, and just remove the voice-line. But the video I had to "audio-cut" in, featured a song that appears to not be download-able due to "suicide?"), and added subtitles to the "highlights" that didn't have any.
-These 9 "highlights" are featured in a playlist, I've created on a "throw-away" Youtube account (as in I've never posted a public video on the channel). They are to be played from top to bottom, with (hopefully) no breaks. I feel I'm able to avoid certain "puzzle" pieces matching, by having it this way. As well as creating a some-what story, I at least, am satisified with. The last "highlight", doesn't honestly fit in. But I feel it perfect to end with a song my family member has heard* a million times before (only difference being a male singer instead of female).
-Why these "highlights"? Last time, I showed her four "highlights". After which she mentioned a few things; She liked the songs being used, she liked the companion-ship between the Doctor & Clara, and she liked Capaldi. So I tried to mainly focus on "highlights" that had those 3 aspects, while sneaking in a few different. As well as attempting to properly introduce another companion (Amelia).
-Majority of the "highlights" I'm 99% sure are spoiler-free and impossible to "puzzle" together. But there are some that I have my doubts about, which is why I've come here. Hoping someone is willing to "take a look" at the video(s) who hasn't already seen them a million times before. Personally, I think all "highlights" are fine. But every-time I re-watch the playlist I always doubt myself until I'm about a "highlight" later into the re-watch.
-The "highlights" I am most worried about are;

First Video - Starting 1:33 (of course videos can be deceiving, and I will mention that) the rest of the "highlight" is very similar to the "real" story. And I'm worried the person might catch on, even though it is the first video- And the whole "frozen between one heartbeat, and the next" part might be too spoiler-y?
Second Video - I feel the "highlight" goes a bit too far on the part about the Twelfth Doctor & Clara, which might be weird for someone who has not seen the show before. As well as near the end it might hint a bit too much at what will happen, especially if person watching remembers the "(diner)outfit" in later "highlights"
Sixth Video - Starting 1:50, is basically the end of the "Pond-era" I've not censored the fall itself, as it technically isn't a spoiler + you don't know what lead them to ending up there, so it creates more of a mystery. I've censored the falling, as I personally think it just looks stupid, especially for someone who hasn't seen the show. Although I might up the blurring a bit, as it becomes very visible again on a TV screen. But the rest of the "highlight" could make the person realize it is the ending. Which I'm worried is what will happen.

A fresh pair of eyes taking a look at at least those "highlights", and giving me "feedback(if I should blumute anything else)" would massively help comfort me.
The Whole Playlist
​
A few side notes;

Apart from: The Girl in the Fireplace (S2E4) - Blink (S3E10) and Silence in the Library/Forest of the Dead (S4E8-9) I'll be skipping the first four series (specials included). Please don't ask me why I'm skipping the era most consider the Golden Age. I'll attempt to show the entire series on a re-run a few years down the line. But as of right now I do not want to scare the person away with creatures like Slitheen, Abzorbaloff, Plasmavore & Vespiform. - So spoilers amongst those series, I did not bother trying to hide (although I do believe there isn't anything really spoiler-y shown in any of the "highlights" when it comes to those series).

​

I'll stop the "viewing" at Hell Bent (S9E12), as every season finale after that is just cliff-hanger after cliff-hanger. Hell bent is a proper ending to the show, in my opinion (Of course would have to watch The Husbands of River Song (S9E13) right before Last Christmas (S8E13) - Which is why none of the videos feature content published after Series 9

​
I do apologize if any of the text seems confusing, I've tried my best to properly explain everything regarding the subject. But I still feel like I could've done a better job..
Thanks in advance if anyone is willing to help out!
​
-One of the rules mentioned crediting the artist if their content is used;
-First Video - Channel
-Second Video - Channel
-Third Video Fifth Video Sixth Video Eight Video - Channel
-Fourth Video Ninth Video - Channel
-Seventh Video - Channel