Podcasts about OW

Er zijn in Nederland elk jaar meer dan 1200 festivals te bezoeken. Van kleine tot enorme waar meer dan een kwart miljoen mensen op af komen. Het is zweterig, je moet ver reizen, ver lopen, in een klein rot tentje slapen, in de rij staan voor douchen, gore wc's en muntjes om weer in de rij te staan voor bier. Om daarna hutje mutje tegen elkaar aan te staan bij de ene band, zodat je geen tijd hebt om de andere te zien. Waarom in godsnaam zouden we dat willen doen? Psychologen Thijs Launspach en Lennard Toma duiken in de aantrekkingskracht van festivals en waarom we dat eigenlijk als erg prettig ervaren. En wat er psychologisch gebeurt als duizenden mensen tegelijkertijd bij elkaar zijn. Ow, en iets met drugs.Bronnen:- Durkheim, É. (1912). Les formes élémentaires de la vie religieuse — oorsprong van het begrip collective effervescence (collectief bruisen).- Haidt, J., Seder, J. P., & Kesebir, S. (2008). Hive psychology, happiness, and public policy. The Journal of Legal Studies — collectief bruisen als zelf-transcenderende emotie.- Zumeta, L. N., e.a. (2022). Emotional processes, collective behavior, and social movements: a meta-analytic review of collective effervescence outcomes. Frontiers in Psychology.- Schwartz, B., & Ward, A. (2002). Maximizing versus satisficing: Happiness is a matter of choice. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology — maximizers zijn minder gelukkig.- Iyengar, S. S., & Lepper, M. R. (2000). When choice is demotivating (het "jam-experiment") — meer keuze, minder tevredenheid.- Przybylski, A. K., Murayama, K., DeHaan, C. R., & Gladwell, V. (2013). Motivational, emotional, and behavioral correlates of fear of missing out. Computers in Human Behavior — eerste wetenschappelijke definitie van FOMO.- Epley, N., & Schroeder, J. (2014). Mistakenly seeking solitude. Journal of Experimental Psychology: General — praten met vreemden maakt blijer dan verwacht.- Dunn, E. W., Aknin, L. B., & Norton, M. I. (2008). Spending money on others promotes happiness. Science — iets voor een ander doen verhoogt geluk (uit Thijs' talk).- Motieven druggebruik: Motivational characteristics of recreational drug use among emerging adults in social settings (Frontiers in Public Health, 2023); A qualitative investigation exploring why dance festivals are risky environments for drug use (Harm Reduction Journal, 2022); Hughes e.a., Substance Use and Attendance Motives of EDM Event Attendees (2023).- Eigen werk Thijs: talk Je bent niet belangrijk (School of Life / Lowlands).

Die Rega will ihren Hauptsitz bis 2030 nach Kägiswil OW verlegen. Sie plant dort beim Flugplatz für 100 Millionen Franken ein neues Verwaltungsgebäude und ein Hangar für die Helikopterwartung. Ab Mitte Juli zeigt sie die Pläne in einem Info-Büro in Sarnen der Öffentlichkeit. Weiter in der Sendung: · Der Zuger Kantonsrat debattiert über einen Steuerrabatt. · Der langjährige Nidwaldner Landweibel Edy Amstad geht in Pension. · Der FC Luzern trifft in der ersten Runde des Schweizer Cup auf Buochs.

Previously on Saga of the Jewels…The life of seventeen-year-old RYN, bookish son of a wealthy landowner, changes forever when his hometown is destroyed by the EMPIRE and everyone he has ever known is killed. Ryn discovers that the Empire are seeking TWELVE PRIMEVAL JEWELS which grant the power to manipulate different elements, and that his father had been hiding the FIRE RUBY. He sets out to take revenge on the Imperial General who killed his family and retrieve the Fire Ruby, and along the way meets NUTHEA the lightning-slinging princess, SAGAR the swaggering skypirate, ELRANN the tomboy engineer, CID the wizened old healer, and VISH the poppy-seed-addicted bounty hunter. Together the companions decide to find all of the Jewels in order to stop the evil EMPEROR from finding them first and taking over the world. They have thus far succeeded in retrieving the Fire Ruby, borne by Ryn, and the Lightning Crystal, borne by Nuthea. They have now come to the land of FARR where they intend to compete in a hand-to-hand fighting tournament in an attempt to win its prize, the EARTH EMERALD…EPISODE FORTY-FOUR: THE TOURNAMENT: GRAND FINALClouds were gathering.Win this tournament, Ryn thought, as fast as possible. Get the Earth Emerald. Get out of here. Find the other Jewels. Save the world. Stay with Nuthea. Live a meaningful life.Don't lose.The hulking figure of Huld regarded him from the other side of the arena, bald and brawny in his green robes. The monk stood legs apart with one foot slightly further forward than the other, hands held up with splayed fingers in a fighting stance, something he had not even done for Sagar.Sagar had forfeited his match in the end to chase after some woman he had fought earlier while Ryn and Nuthea had been speaking to the Governor. That meant that Ryn had to fight Huld instead of the skypirate.He was actually more nervous at the prospect of fighting the monk, but at least he wasn't having to fight a friend. Cid had healed Ryn after his last match against Vish, so that he was fighting fit again and ready. But Huld hadn't even needed any healing after his match with Sagar, despite it being offered according to their agreement with the Governor.The Farrian audience made no sound at all. Ryn could hear his own breathing. He reviewed his plan. He had already decided how he would open in this match. He didn't want the monk to have an opportunity to get close to him. The boy knew he couldn't win against Huld in a straight fight, but if he was able to keep the monk at bay with his elemental projection, he might just have a chance. Vish had said as much, anyway, and Vish knew a lot more about fighting than he did.“READY……FIGHT!” shouted the announcer for the last time that day.Ryn flung his hands forwards immediately, launching a hot, orange fireball at Huld.The monk made a raising hand gesture at once and a section of the stone arena floor rose up to form a wall in front of him, which the fireball broke apart on, scorching it black.Cid's words of advice echoed in Ryn's mind: Elemental projections still obey the normal laws of nature. Fire may consume earth or wood or vegetation, but it cannot burn stone. It is young man's Huld's body that will be especially susceptible to fire attacks.But that meant Ryn would need to land a hit on Huld's body.The wall of stone that the monk had raised suddenly broke off from the floor and shot towards Ryn, a man-sized slab rushing along the ground.He dived to one side out of the way, lost his footing and stumbled over, but then came up again as fast he could, not wanting to spare Huld a single moment to exploit, throwing another fireball at him as he rose.This one the monk dodged, casually side-stepping out of its path.Ryn threw another. Another. Another, trying to anticipate where the monk was going to dodge to next. This tactic had just about worked on Vish, but somehow Huld sidestepped and weaved so unpredictably that Ryn couldn't hit him. The fireballs only hit with the floor or shot over the heads of the audience. Huld didn't jump into the air like Vish had, and he didn't even bother using earth manipulation to block Ryn's projectiles any more.It looked like landing a hit was going to be even more difficult than he had thought.His first tactic exhausted, hot panic flooded Ryn's head. He lit himself on fire with a shout and ran at Huld. If he couldn't land a hit with a ranged attack, he would just have to try hitting him up close.The flames billowed around Ryn's body as he ran. The monk held his ground, standing stone still with bunched fists.Ryn arrived putting all of his weight behind a mad punch, another angry shout involuntarily issuing from his lips.He almost connected, but at the last moment Huld side-stepped out of the way again and Ryn went past him.Fearing a counter, Ryn turned immediately with a flaming kick. The monk took a step back out of the way of it.Ryn tried another kick with his other leg, then another and another, then even threw in one of Vish's roundhouse kicks, surprised that he had remembered how to do it from the week's training.The monk moved out of the way of them all. His movements were deliberate, controlled, efficient, expending the minimal amount of energy required to dodge out of the way of the Ryn's desperate attacks.The boy switched back to punches, chasing after Huld and flinging his fists out at the monk, who only danced away from them.Ryn came to a halt, breathing hard, the fire around his body still burning, having failed to land a single hit.Huld merely continued to regard him from where he had ended up a few paces away, now holding his hands behind his back.Damn it, but the monk wasn't just strong, he was also so fast. A man that size shouldn't be able to move so quickly!“Are you toying with me?” Ryn asked, keeping his voice quiet so that the crowd, and Nuthea, wouldn't hear.“No,” the monk said straightforwardly with his omnipresent smile. “I am just observing your style some more.” Then the smile disappeared into a flat line, possibly the first time that Ryn had seen it drop. “What there is of it, at least. This would be toying with you, foreigner.”A wedge of stone rose up out of the floor in front of Ryn, smashing into his chest, hitting him so hard he was chucked up into the air.His fire went out.He hung for a moment at the apex of his flight, aware that he was about to fall back to earth.But then something else smacked into his back, bright pain erupting across it, one, two, three times, he lost count in the pain.Now he flew upwards, delirious with shock, the dark clouds in the sky getting nearer for a few moments, then hung weightless once more.He began to fall again, and as he did so he turned over in the air helplessly and fell head-first.Huld, moving towards him, standing atop a pillar of stone that he was causing to rise up from the ground.The monk reached him and punched him in the stomach.Now Ryn was thrown along the horizontal, he knew from the thrilled faces of the crowd that passed below.He was going to land among them, out of bounds.No I'm not, damn it!He found his bearings and thrust his hands in the direction he was moving in, projecting fire from them. Jets of flame appeared, the push-back from them arresting his flight, then reversing it, so that he began to move back the way he had come, flipping over and beginning to fly back into the arena, now holding his hands out behind him.He shut his jaw tight against the pain setting in all over his body, then looked for where he was going to land.Huld had come down from his pillar and stood waiting, no sign of surprise on his smiling face at all.Ryn found the wherewithal to light himself on fire again, and at the same time he projected fire from the soles of his feet, further accelerating his flight, and directed himself at the monkBut Huld still had time to raise another stone barrier before Ryn made impact.Ryn screamed with rage and pulled his limbs in to his chest, curling himself up and holding his fists in front of his face.He cannonballed into the wall, the impact smashing against his forearms and rattling his teeth, then heard the shuddering sound of stone breaking apart.He collided with Huld beyond it in a shower of stone and dust, smacking full into the monk's body and bouncing off him and to the side, where he hit the floor hard, bounced a few more times and came to a stop on his back.Spinning dark clouds above him, and the noise of the audience's angry shouts in his ears.He groaned as the pain caught up to him fully. Terrible, aching bruises on his arms, the backs of his hands, his chest, his back, his stomach, his head. His whole body throbbed with them. His flame-aura had extinguished again, but at least he was still conscious, and he was dimly hopeful that the flames had still been around him when he had collided with Huld.The monk wasn't following up with any attacks, Ryn realised.In spite of the pain, he forced his body to turn over and push itself shakily to its feet.Sure enough, the monk was only just getting up from where he had landed some length away himself, near one edge of the arena.A blackened semi-circle marred the front of his robes where they hung down over his chest from one shoulder. Little flames still burned here and there on them.Huld grunted as he grabbed the robes with one hand and tore off the top of them, ripping them from his body and throwing them out of the arena where they landed in the sand in a smouldering heap, leaving only his legs covered.His chest, a chiselled arrangement of discrete rectangular muscles, was now marked by its own big, purple bruise where Ryn had cannonballed into him when on fire. The monk grimaced–he was standing, but he didn't look like he was going to attack again in a hurry.The crowd roared their one-sided approval of Huld standing up, but Ryn still detected a note of anger that the Farrian had suffered a hit.Cid was right! Ryn thought amidst the delirium of his ringing head. He could hurt Huld if he connected with him while on fire.But it had taken an awful lot just to connect with him. Ryn couldn't do that again–there was no way that he could throw himself through a barrier of stone again just to land a single hit on his opponent. His body was bruised and bleeding from smashing through the wall and he could barely think straight. And his fireball attacks were useless too–Huld was so fast he just dodged out of the way of them.He needed a way of guaranteeing that his fire attack would connect with Huld, without breaking his body in the process.Ryn had an idea.A last-ditch, bet-it-all, everything-or-nothing kind of idea.It was crazy, but it was the best chance he had right now.He took a deep breath, trying not to wince at the stabs of protest from his ribs. He would definitely need Cid to heal him after this match, whatever its outcome. He gathered his energy and concentrated on where he was going to project it.Huld frowned at him, wavy lines carving his forehead, and Ryn enjoyed that the monk wasn't smiling anymore.“Fiiiiireaaaaaagggggggaaaahhhh!” Ryn shouted, lifting his hands straight up palms-out towards the sky, his focus-word cracking and turning into an agonised cry of effort and then pain as he broke his limit.Flames rose all over the arena.He willed them upwards from the floor, searing and intense, so that they engulfed the entire arena, engulfed him, engulfed Huld, and all was consumed in an exploding inferno of red and orange and yellow fire that leapt up higher than their heads.Somewhere distant he heard the audience calling out in surprise, but he barely paid them any attention.He was at home in the roar of the fire. He didn't feel it as burning heat, but as a delighting, exultant expulsion of energy.After a few moments his arms began to quiver with new pain. He was aware that he had almost exhausted all of his energy, or ‘mana', or whatever Cid called it, and he suddenly let the flames cease, keeping back just a bit of it in reserve in case this attack didn't work.The inferno disappeared, leaving only steam hissing up from the now hot stone tiles of the arena.And there lay Huld, on his side, his body and his remaining robes blackened and burned.Oh no.“Cid!” Ryn shouted as he sprinted as fast as he could manage over to where the monk lay. “Help! I think I might have killed him!”He reached the monk and knelt on both knees next to him. The monk's eyes were shut; his mouth open.But his chest was still moving up and down.The monk's hand shot out and grabbed Ryn's wrist, tight as a vice.The boy went rigid with shock.Huld opened his eyes, brown irises shining. “No, you haven't killed me, foreigner,” he rasped, “though you may have come close. And I hope now that you have used up enough of your energy that you won't be able to do that again.”Huld's fist hit Ryn in the nose and he went over, skidding along on his back and coming to rest. He clutched his face against the pain and tasted the metallic tang of blood as it ran down into his mouth.He stumbled up again.Huld had got to his feet and was staring at him defiantly, jaw set in grim, stony determination.Ryn couldn't believe this man. What strength did he possess, what unfathomable reserves of endurance, that he was able to stand up again and continue to fight when his body and face were red and brown and covered in burns?But at the same time, it looked as though the fire attack had weakened him considerably. And his latest punch hadn't hit quite as hard as before. And the monk was trembling slightly, clearly struggling to stay standing.Maybe now this would be more of a fair fight.Ryn's heart missed a beat. Huld was running towards him.The monk arrived with a punch that Ryn side-stepped, to his own amazement. His attack had slowed the monk down, too.He countered with a punch of his own, which the monk blocked, palming it away harmlessly into the air to the side of him, but no counter came and Ryn had time to try another, which found Huld's gut.“Ungh,” the monk grunted, and took a step backwards. He had hardly been bowled over by the punch, but he had taken the full brunt of it, and it had clearly hurt him.He had been weakened. This would be a fairer fight now.Ryn ran in again and the pair traded more blows. He found that he was able to land some punches and kicks on Huld, and they even seemed to hurt him and knocked him back. He was able to dodge some of Huld's strikes as well, though some still connected with him and hurt like all the hells, but they didn't send him flying across the arena as they had done before.The two of them continued like that for some time, grunting and groaning and flinging their limbs against each other's increasingly worn-out bodies in what Ryn knew had to be the endgame of this match–neither of them could last at this much longer.Then Huld used his earth projection again.The monk willed a pillar of stone up out of the arena floor, aiming it at Ryn–but it didn't move with the rapidity that it had done before. It came up slowly, like Huld was straining to pull it out, and Ryn was able to stagger out of the way of it, then strafe round and run back in to punch Huld, who blocked and lost his concentration, losing his mental grip on the pillar and letting it sink back into the floor.The monk tried several more earth attacks, interspersing them more or less effectively among his forced and stuttered movements, but Ryn had time to get out of the way of them, and they all fell short.Ryn stumbled back a few steps to regather himself, and watched Huld, who for the moment kept his distance too.He's got some mana left, Ryn thought, but he's been severely weakened by my fire. His projections are slower. I can win this.Still, the longer they kept going this way, the more tired Ryn was getting, and the more likely he was going to be caught out by an earth projection or one of Huld's blows. After all, even though he was burned and blackened and bruised, at the end of the day the monk was still far bigger, stronger and faster than Ryn was just in terms of the raw size, strength and speed of their bodies.It was time to finish this.Ryn drew on the last of his energy and lit himself on fire one more time. His whole body ached in complaint as he drew on the last of his physical reserves to project.Huld's eyes grew and his mouth dropped. No doubt he was shocked that Ryn had any energy left himself. But Ryn wasn't using his mana—which was gone. He was projecting from his physical energy.Ryn ran at Huld, pulling his fist back for what he was sure would be the final blow of this final match. The monk wouldn't have time to hit him with an earth attack. This was it.Time slowed.As Ryn's fist got closer, through the flames surrounding his body he saw Huld raising both his hands.Unable to arrest the momentum of his run, Ryn watched in horror as the stone of the arena floor rose up around Huld and encased the monk, moulding around his body to turn him into a brown-stone-encrusted golem.Ryn didn't have time to pull back, and followed through with his punch. His fist crunched into the centre of the stone golem's chest and stopped, his knuckles cracking against it.“Ow,” said Ryn.And then pain sang out from his knuckles so loud he yelped and howled and shook his hand up and down.Huld's eyes looked at him from within the little slit in the stone encasing that the monk had left for them. The muscles around them tightened. He appeared to be smiling once again within his earthen armour.The Huld-golem pulled back a stone fist, and then delivered a massive, jumping uppercut to Ryn's chin that he had no time to block.Ryn lost a moment of consciousness, but regained it while he was still hurtling through the air.He hit the sand outside the arena on his back at the same time he realised that he couldn't scream properly anymore because his jaw had been broken.“Out of bounds!” bellowed the tournament announcer, whom Ryn had landed somewhere near to. “Victory to Huld of Farr! Huld of Farr is the winner!”The crowd exploded with joy.Amidst the muddle of his pain, Ryn saw them climbing and leaping over the wooden barriers that fenced off the arena floor and running onto it. Farrians, men, women and children alike, invading the arena and roaring with triumph and glee. The ones passing Ryn ignored him completely, stepping over him or even knocking into him on the way so that his body protested with fresh pain.Eventually Cid appeared at his side; a friendly, weathered face in the sea of screaming Farrians.“Oh dear,” the old man said. “that looks nasty. Sorry it took me a moment to get to you. I went to Huld first because you burned him so badly, but actually it looks like I should have come to you first…”He lay a hand on the top of his Ryn's throbbing head, spoke the word “Cure-ah,” and relieving warmth spread from the old man's hand into Ryn's head, through his jaw, and down to the rest of his body. His jaw bones clicked back into place and his ribs stopped aching.“Ahhh…” Ryn gasped. “That's better... Thank you, Cid...” He took the old man's hand, who helped him to his feet.“My pleasure,” said Cid, clasping his hand and giving him an affectionate wallop on the back, which would have hurt like hell had Ryn not just been healed. The lines at the corners of his eyes looked particularly pronounced just now. He must be tired from all the healing he had been doing today. “Good effort out there. I'm sorry it didn't work out in the end.”And then it hit Ryn, harder than a stone-fisted uppercut.He had lost.He had lost the Grand Final.He had lost the Grand Final and failed to win the Earth Emerald.He looked over at what was happening to Huld. The invading members of the audience had swarmed around the monk, who was no longer encased in his stone armour, and hoisted him up so that his huge form bobbed up and down atop a sea of hands. He was smiling again.“HULD! HULD! HULD!” the crowd were chanting over and over in celebration.The entire arena was filled with Farrians. More were scrambling to get in to try to touch their new champion, but there was barely any room left inside the fighting square to accommodate them.“What do we do now?” Ryn asked Cid over the noise of the cheering. “How are we going to get the Earth Emerald now?”“I am not entirely sure,” said Cid. “I must admit I did not expect things to turn out this way…” A stab of shame pricked Ryn's guts. “But don't worry, lad. It doesn't matter. There will be a way. The One will show us a way.”As he watched the crowd of Farrians jostling around in the arena and starting to repeatedly launch Huld into the air, Ryn wasn't so sure. Sorrow tugged at his heart. He had let Nuthea down. He had let himself down. He had let everyone down.“ENOUGH!” boomed a voice so loud it shook the sand Ryn stood on.It got the crowd quiet too. As one, they turned to look at who had shouted.The Governor. He was standing on his viewing platform, hands held up for silence again.“While I understand your justified jubilation,” the Governor said loudly, though he didn't need to shout it anymore, “this disorganised display does not become us. All of you, back to the viewing area! Then I shall present Brother Huld with his prize for winning the Grand Final of this tournament.”Slowly, reluctantly, the audience members returned Huld to the ground and began to walk back out of the arena circle, clambering back over the dividing barriers. Apparently they respected the Governor enough to obey him, even in spite of their jubilation at seeing Huld win the Final.Ryn and Cid went and stood at the side of the arena to watch what would happen next. Ryn tried to keep his head down out of view so that people wouldn't see that he had been healed.The Governor descended his platform and a gate in the barrier was opened for him by a monk so that he could walk into the arena, where he went and stood next to Huld.The thick-set man walked around the champion to address the once more patiently watching Farrians from all angles.“Fellow Farrians!” he proclaimed. “What you have witnessed here today is yet another demonstration that—though barbarians and rogues may visit us from over the seas and skies to gaze upon our wonders and challenge our strength—in glory, in might, in power, FARR WILL ALWAYS REIGN SUPREME!”The crowd bellowed its approval, so loud it felt like the earth trembled under Ryn's feet.The Governor turned to the monk at his side. “Brother Huld, Monk of Eto, loyal servant of the Republic of Farr, for your prowess and victory at this Grand Tournament here today, for your defeat of these foreign challengers with their strangest of sorceries, for your impeccable demonstration of the finest fighting arts that Mother Farr has to offer, as prize I now present you with the highest honour I can bestow: The long-lost Earth Emerald of Eto, fabled Jewel of Mid!”The Governor pulled a hand from his robe and thrust it into the air, holding the gleaming green stone aloft. As he did so the arena flared briefly with distant light, which the stone caught with a flash, and a heartbeat later a loud peal of thunder rolled across the sky, like celestial furniture being moved somewhere above the ceiling of cloud cover.Ryn craned his neck upwards. The gathered clouds were thicker and blacker than ever, pregnant with rainstorm.“Congratulations, Brother Huld!” proclaimed the Governor.He handed Huld the stone, and at last the storm broke, and rain burst from the clouds, drenching them in an instantaneous downpour of uncountable water droplets.And with the storm, through the dark clouds, flew a fleet of black, blimp-suspended, sharp-prowed Imperial airships. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit sagaofthejewels.substack.com

The May box office is thriving ahead of a summer filled with exciting blockbusters, having surpassed $1 billion for the first time since 2019. Sophia and Nick will definitely be reviewing those upcoming films in the following months, but on this episode, they're taking it back to all of the new films they haven't yet discussed this year. Blame a long Oscar season or a rich Cannes festival, but they're back with an OW favorite, Nom or Bomb, to recap 30 films that have captured audiences so far in 2026. Which movies will they continue to talk about later this year and into 2027? Listen to find out! Follow us on Twitter, Instagram, Bluesky, and TikTok @oscarwildpodFollow Sophia @sophia_cimFollow Nick @sauerkraut27Become a patron and listen to more content at patreon.com/OscarWild Find updated predictions and merch @ oscarwild.squarespace.comMusic: “The Greatest Adventure” by Jonathan Adamich

It's open water season in the Northern Hemisphere, and the questions are flooding in. This week Coach Rob answers the most common athlete questions about moving your swimming out of the pool and into the lake or sea ahead of your first IRONMAN or 70.3.In this episode:When to make the switch to open water, and the simple rule for timing it What to actually practice once you're there: sighting drills, drafting technique, relaxed starts, turn buoys, and a clean wetsuit exitWhy you might be slower in open water than the poolWhether to do your endurance swim in the OW or the poolHow to choose the right start pen on a rolling-start race day* * * * * * *SPONSORS* * * * * * * *Thinking about your first Ironman or 70.3 in 2026? At ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Team Oxygenaddict,⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ we specialise in helping busy professionals fit high-quality training around demanding jobs and family life. We've just reopened for new athletes with only a handful of slots available. Book an application call today to find out if you'd be a good fit for Team Oxygenaddict for the coming season here: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://team.oxygenaddict.com/consultation-call/ ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠* * * * * * * * * * * *⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠precisionfuelandhydration.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Precision Fuel & Hydration help athletes personalise their hydration and fuelling strategies for training and racing. Use the free ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Fuel & Hydration Planner⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ to get a personalised race nutrition plan for your next event. And then⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ book a free 20-minute video consultation⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ with a member of the PF&H Athlete Support Team to refine your strategy.Listeners get 15% off their first order of fuel and electrolytes with Precision Fuel & Hydration. Simply use code OXYGEN26 at checkout to claim your 15% discount

WAHHEYYYHallo! Ow do?!WELCOME TO INDIE AF - An AF marketing chat special! Sarah Golding here - hello! I am Just coming out of a true busy creator period of producing directing and voice acting annddd interviews for this ere show. Am Delighted today to introduce the truly wonderful Joe Swenson of BROKEN ARTS ENTERTAINMENT who put out around 125 episodes a year!!! WOOOOOOWWWThat sounds insaneWe explore what Joe does to build community for Broken Arts, and how they market and utilise social media to get folks to know their show - some key info about BE - Across platforms they have 25,000 followers! 9000 insta followersSocial media Tips - be everywherePost consistently on YouTubeEncouraging their Actors to promote their worksThey had 1.2 million engagements last year - next year aim for 2 million and utilising Patreon! Think about your # use! WE CHAT ON …i.e. tagging #strangerthingfollowers if your show is a little similar in vibe! WHATTTT to putt out on the socialsBTS SEEMS POPULARLIVE SHOWS GAIN TRACTION - GO BIG!ONGOING OPEN FUNDING THROUGH SEED AND SPARKHYDRATE HYDRATE HYDRATEHow how howww to get feedback!  Ahh Engagement! THE VOID IS DEEP AND LARGE LARGE LARGE large lar la lHURRAY FOR THE NEW JERSEY WEBFESTONLINE PODCAST PUBLICATIONS YOU HAVE TO HIT! Joe shouts about The brilliance of some core BAE team>>>Hannah Lee  Defrates - VPEmily Morse Lee - IMDBBernie Horton - Marketing ManagerCathy Tran - Graphic DesignerAND NO AI NOW ALLOWED! We talked all things> Marketing plans - intentional and unintentional> How they market>Community awesome>Being ambitious>Taking risksShows you can listen toA FRAGILE MINDCHIASE THE BEARJUSTIN THYMEWILLOW HAVENAnd so much more on this sitehttps://brokenartsentertainment.com/entertainment-hub/original-series/Things team BE use for socials>>>UPSPLASH UNSPLASHMOTION ARRAYJoe promoted the art of ‘STAYING RELEVANT' - it seems key and hitting big event days - ie Shakespeare days and anniversaries of note that you market well can bring folks in.Please feel free to pop on to the links below to Joe and his teams worksThank you again for my lovely Patreon supporters - gosh you truly are amazing and I appreciate your awesome very very much! If you want to join them and pin in a few dollars a month to support this work, feel freeee! Happy Creating all!SarahxShows and people we mentioned - find and follow! Gathering by the GaslightTheatrical ShenanIgansMidnight BurgerNightvaleAllison CossittDavid AultAlastair Stuart new letter the full lidFiction Podcast News Weekly #LindsayIsAmazingTHE ENDAUDIO FICTION UK FILM FREEWAYLINKS TO JOES WORKS OF GROOVYBroken Arts Entertainment StaffBroken Arts EntertainmentBroken Arts Entertainment on SpotifyBroken Arts Entertainment on YouTubeBroken Arts Entertainment on InstagramBroken Arts Entertainment on FacebookWHY HAVENT I GIVEN ATTENTION AUDIODRAMA - OS LITERALLY THE SKY IS THE LIMITLET'S BREAK THROUGH THE SKYYYYYYSarah's links of audio joy⁠⁠⁠⁠SARAH BLUESKY⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠SARAH LINKTREE⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠QUIRKY VOICES PATREON⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ADWIT PODCAST⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠WIRELESS THEATRE⁠

You can listen wherever you get your podcasts or check out the fully edited transcript of our interview at the bottom of this post.In this episode of The Peaceful Parenting Podcast, my guest is Dr. Justin Coulson, an Australian parenting expert and father of 6 who has his PhD in psychology and is the author of 10 books on parenting and the co-host of the Happy Families podcast with his wife, Kylie. We discuss the psychology behind peaceful parenting, including how self-determination theory explains kids' challenging behavior. Dr. Justin also shared his three E's of discipline.Know someone who might appreciate this episode? Share it with them!And if you love the podcast, FREE ways to help us out:1- Rate and review the podcast in your podcast player app2- “Like” this post by tapping the heart icon ♥️3- Share this with a friend. THANK YOU!We talk about:* 1:45 – Introduction to Dr. Justin Coulson and his personal parenting turning pointHow struggles with anger and discipline led him to rethink everything and study psychology.* 08:20 – Learning to regulate ourselves, practicing repair, and growing over time.* 15:50 – Why peaceful parenting starts with the parent's self-awareness and regulation.* 19:50 – Understanding behavior through compassion and curiosity.* 20:50 – The HALTS frameworkHow hunger, anger, loneliness, tiredness, and stress impact children's behavior.* 23:00 – Self-determination theory and parenting* 33:00 – The 3 E's of Effective Discipline* 41:50 – How to use the 3 E's in everyday parenting moments.Real-life examples: screens, sibling conflict & collaboration* 49:00 – Building trust and the “goodwill bank” with kidsWhy collaborative parenting pays off when tough limits are needed.* 53:30 – Advice to his younger parenting self: “soft eyes”A powerful reflection on kindness, connection, and showing up with compassion.* 56:30 – Where to find Dr. Justin CoulsonHis podcast, books, and upcoming work on boys and healthy masculinity.Resources mentioned in this episode:* Dr. Justin's website and podcast* Yoto Screen Free Audio Book Player* The Peaceful Parenting Membership* Evelyn & Bobbie brasConnect with Sarah Rosensweet:* Instagram* Facebook Group* YouTube* Website* Join us on Substack* Newsletter* Book a short consult or coaching session callxx Sarah and CoreyYour peaceful parenting team- click here for a free short consult or a coaching sessionVisit our website for free resources, podcast, coaching, membership and more!>> Please support us!!! Please consider becoming a supporter to help support our free content, including The Peaceful Parenting Podcast, our free parenting support Facebook group, and our weekly parenting emails, “Weekend Reflections” and “Weekend Support” - plus our Flourish With Your Complex Child Summit (coming back in the summer for the 3rd year!) All of this free support for you takes a lot of time and energy from me and my team. If it has been helpful or meaningful for you, your support would help us to continue to provide support for free, for you and for others.In addition to knowing you are supporting our mission to support parents and children, you get the podcast ad free and access to a monthly ‘ask me anything' session.Our sponsors:YOTO: YOTO is a screen free audio book player that lets your kids listen to audiobooks, music, podcasts and more without screens, and without being connected to the internet. No one listening or watching and they can't go where you don't want them to go and they aren't watching screens. BUT they are being entertained or kept company with audio that you can buy from YOTO or create yourself on one of their blank cards. Check them out HEREEvelyn & Bobbie bras: If underwires make you want to rip your bra off by noon, Evelyn & Bobbie is for you. These bras are wire-free, ultra-soft, and seriously supportive—designed to hold you comfortably all day without pinching, poking, or constant adjusting. Check them out HERESarah: Hey, everyone. Welcome back to another episode of the Peaceful Parenting Podcast. Today's guest is Dr. Justin Coulson. He's an Australian parenting expert with a PhD in psychology, the author of 10 books on parenting, the co-host of the Happy Families podcast with his wife, Kylie, the father of six children, and, last but not least, grandfather of one.We discuss the psychology behind peaceful parenting, including how self-determination theory explains kids' challenging behavior. Dr. Justin also shared his three E's of discipline, which I just loved.If you like this episode, please share it with a friend so more parents can learn about peaceful parenting. If you're a fan of the podcast, you can help us out not only by sharing it, but by leaving a review and a five-star rating in your podcast player app. While you're there, don't forget to follow the show so you don't miss an episode.If you'd like to support us even more, you can become a supporter on Substack to help us offset the cost of making the show. We'll put a link in the show notes.Let's meet Dr. Justin. I hope you enjoy this conversation and get as much out of his insights as I did.Sarah: Hello, Dr. Justin, and welcome to the podcast.Dr. Justin: Sarah, I'm so glad to be with you. Thanks for having me on.Sarah: Yeah, and it's morning for you, evening for me—nice—and I'm just glad that we could make this time to talk to each other. I really appreciate it. Thank you. So, could you just tell us a little bit about who you are and what you do?Dr. Justin: Sure. I grew up on the east coast of Australia, about an hour north of Sydney. Geographically, that kind of locates where I was. I was the teenage boy that every parent hopes they will not have. I don't think I was a particularly bad kid, but I certainly wasn't a good kid.My parents were spending a small fortune—I'm a 1975 baby, I turned 50 last year—but this was in the late '80s and early '90s. My parents were spending so much money to send me to a private school. Because we were on the coast—a very quintessentially Australian thing—I was wagging school.Do you say “wagging school” in Canada? Is that a term Canadians use?Sarah: No, but I think we get the context. I think it means not going to school.Dr. Justin: Yeah, I was truant. They thought I was there, but I wasn't.Sarah: We say skipping.Dr. Justin: I was skipping school. Okay, yeah. We call it a school wag.So I would go to school in the morning and get my name marked off in roll call. Then I would sneak out of the school. Across the road from the school, there were bushes—kind of a forest, or whatever you might call it in Canada and America. I would get changed out of my tie, long pants, and black school shoes, throw on some board shorts and a T-shirt.My surfboard was stashed in the bush, and I'd grab it from the hiding place. Then I'd jump on a bus, go to the beach, and surf all day. Afterward, I'd get a bus back to school in the afternoon, change back into my uniform, and race into the school just in time to get my name marked off, looking like I'd been at school all day.This was in the days before schools communicated with parents via email and text, because none of that existed. I was able to get away with it.So I finished high school. I scored in the bottom 15%—Sarah: Goodness.Dr. Justin: Not just my class, but of the entire state of New South Wales. My parents were devastated.I didn't care. I wanted to have a media career. I wanted to be a radio announcer. So I got into radio. If you've ever listened to the radio—and no offense to radio people—you know you don't have to do well at school to be good at radio. You just have to be able to sit on the microphone and say things that make sense.I knew I could do that, so school didn't matter to me. I didn't care about it. That's what I did.But this is where it intersects with parenting.About 10 years into my radio career, my wife and I were having some challenges, particularly around my parenting. We had a threenager and a newborn baby.That three-year-old—I had always held the opinion that my children would do as they were told, and if they didn't, I would make sure they understood that I was the father and that their job was to do as I said.So I was very punitive. I basically made all of the parenting mistakes you can imagine when I would get angry, frustrated, and ill-tempered. It's not that I was a bad father—I spent a lot of high-quality time loving my kids—but I was also really short-fused and highly aggressive.Frankly, I went from threatening to hitting really fast. You call it spanking; we would call it smacking. I was very, very quick to smack or spank my three-year-old, and it wasn't working.After one particularly bad incident where things escalated, I really did lose control. I didn't just spank her once. There were multiple spankings. This was like a 10-minute escalation session where it just got worse and worse and worse.My wife was out at the time. When she came home, I said to Kylie, “I'm a bad father. I'm not doing this well. I'm making a lot of mistakes, and here's what happened while you were out.”Full confession: Kylie has always been this wonderfully supportive wife—very kind, gentle, compassionate, soft-spoken, thoughtful, considerate, empathic—all of those beautiful attributes that I prize and treasure in my good wife.She was none of those things that day.She had fire in her eyes and said, “You are not living up to the father that I hoped you would be, and you're also not living up to the husband I need you to be.”And it took me back, because I was already feeling downcast. I felt like I was failing anyway, and she just—it was like she picked up a great big lump of wood and whacked me over the head with it and said, “No.”Of course, she didn't actually do that, but that's how it felt. It felt physical. Visceral. Like, Ow. This is serious.I left my radio career shortly thereafter.I was working at one of the biggest radio stations in Australia at the time, and I gave up all the backstage passes with global superstars and hanging out with record company executives at the best restaurants, eating their food so they could bribe me to play their music on the radio station. I went back to school.I became a full-time student. I worked part-time at three different jobs while studying full-time. I'd sleep under the desk at university so I could do the study and the work—Sarah: No surfing this time?Dr. Justin: No surfing this time, no. I was just so committed to it.After eight and a half years of full-time study, I graduated with a doctorate. I had to do a couple of other qualifications first, including a psychological science degree. I graduated with a doctorate in psychology and became a university lecturer.Along the way, Sarah, we went from having our two kids at that point to having our third child in my first year of study, our fourth child in my fifth year of study, and our fifth child while I was doing my doctorate. Shortly after I left the university setting, stopped lecturing, and started writing books and giving talks, we had our sixth child.So we're the parents—Sarah: Amazing.Dr. Justin: —of six daughters. Today, they range in age from 12—the youngest—to the oldest, who is in her mid-to-late 20s. She and her husband have a baby now. They've been married for a few years.Sarah: Wow. You're a grandpa.Dr. Justin: A grand—I'm a grandpa. We have a two-and-a-half-year-old grandbaby, four adult children, one in her teens, and a 12-year-old.So that's kind of my very short version of the journey.Along the way, I've written a bunch of books. We've got a TV show in Australia called Parental Guidance. We've had three seasons of that show on primetime TV. I've got a website and all the things that you'd expect—a podcast and so on.Sarah: What did you do when you had that aha moment—that realization that you weren't being the kind of dad you wanted to be, and your wife also agreed that you weren't being the kind of dad she wanted you to be? What did you change?Because you just mentioned that you spent eight and a half years going back to school. I imagine that you made some changes before you had six kids. So what did you do right away, maybe for anyone listening who can relate to those feelings of rage and feeling triggered by your child?Dr. Justin: Sarah, the first thing I'd say is that there was no linear change, and there were no immediate changes, because I didn't know what to do.I was unskilled. I was uneducated. I didn't know anything about psychology, and I clearly didn't know anything about parenting.But I found a mentor. I have a faith background, and there was a writer who wrote eloquently and compassionately. I just felt like he understood me, and he became a mentor to me.I also discovered a guy called Alfie Kohn. You might be familiar with Alfie Kohn.Sarah: Oh, Alfie Kohn was the first thing I ever read about parenting—Dr. Justin: Oh, great.Sarah: —before I even had kids. And he was on the podcast last year, which felt like a full-circle moment between how influential—I told him on the podcast, “You have probably had the biggest influence on me—not only in my parenting, but in my life's direction—of any single person out there.”So, sorry, fan-girl moment. I'm right there with you with Alfie Kohn.Dr. Justin: Yeah. I've gotten to know Alfie over the years as my academic career advanced and I began to understand where he took his research from.I read his book Punished by Rewards—I think it was a 1993—Sarah: That was my first one too.Dr. Justin: Yeah, it's a 1993 publication or something.Sarah, it was just so influential.What happened was, I was doing my university degree and learning things, and honestly, I'd be sitting there thinking, Hang on, the things they're teaching me in these university courses seem to clash with what Alfie Kohn taught me in Punished by Rewards.So I spent a lot of time in the notes section at the back—you know, all the references nobody ever reads?Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: As I went through them, I discovered researchers named Edward Deci and Richard Ryan from the University of Rochester in upstate New York.They had developed a theory known as self-determination theory.A large portion of Alfie Kohn's work is based on self-determination theory.So I really dug deep into that. I still love Alfie, but I moved very much into the academic side because I became a university lecturer and really got into the nitty-gritty of understanding the deepest depths of what self-determination theory is all about. That has become the foundation of the work that I do.And to your question: nothing is linear when you are trying to make improvements.Whether you're trying to change your diet, exercise, get your finances in order, or improve your relationships, you have insights. You have moments where you think, Oh my goodness, this is what I need to do. I need to show up with warmth on my face and soft eyes.And then three hours later, one of your children does something, and you forget what soft eyes look and feel like. You look at them with hard eyes, frustration in your voice, and short, clipped sentences.Then half an hour later, you think, Oh, self-awareness. I missed that.So it's this gradual process: two steps forward, one step back. Three steps forward, one step back. Four steps forward, three steps back. Eight steps forward, no steps back.Over the years, I had this beautiful experience—and maybe you've had a similar experience in your family as you've raised your kids.We were maybe in my third or fourth year of study. My wife has an early childhood background. She knows child development. She knows what kids need.She was a little skeptical about a lot of the things I was starting to talk about and discover as I went through university and got into the depths of what the research meant—comparing and contrasting it with what was mainstream, but actually not always quite right.We had some tension around how we should respond to the children. I was moving away from that authoritarian bent and developing ideas around exploring their world more.One night, I came home from university a little late. It was probably around 9:00 p.m. Our three children were still awake.As I drove into the driveway, all the lights in the house were on. The windows were open. Looking through the living room window, I could tell the house was—to put it politely—a mess.And as I stepped into the house, the kids—it was just awful.I walked over to Kylie and said, “Honey, it looks like it's been a pretty tough day.”I was trying to be compassionate and empathic. I was really trying to do what psychology says is the right thing to do.Kylie looked at me without hesitation and said, “Don't give me any of that psychology crap. I've had the worst day in the world.”Then she stormed out and said, “You fix it,” and walked into the bedroom and closed the door.Again, this is not how my wife usually is, but it had been a really rough day. The kids were feral. The house was a mess.I looked at my priorities. I sat down with the child who was struggling the most and worked with her for two or three minutes. She calmed down, I gave her a little food, and put her to bed.Within about 20 minutes, I had all three kids in bed, and I was so proud of myself.I stepped into the kitchen and started tidying up. I thought, I'll just give Kylie some space.After another 30 or 40 minutes of tidying, I stepped into the living room and said, “Honey, I know you're really upset. It's been a pretty tough day. I wasn't trying to be judgy or anything.”And she said, “It's fine for you. You're not dealing with it all day. You walk in and think you can just snap your fingers and everything's fine.”Then she looked at me and said, “But tonight, you walked in and it feels like you snapped your fingers and everything's fine.”And we had this beautiful conversation where she said, “I've been resenting the things you've been trying to tell me because it felt like you were telling me I was wrong.“But I've been watching, and I'm actually seeing that the things you're doing are working, and our family is feeling better.”It took four or five years to get there, Sarah.It's not like I had this epiphany—I'm a bad father, I need to change—and suddenly I was a good dad.There were many embarrassing, shameful moments after that epiphany where I still made terrible decisions and treated the children badly.Even today, I still lose my temper, say things I shouldn't, and get frustrated, because kids are kids and we're fallible humans.But we call parenting parenting because it's about us. If it were about children, we'd call it childrening.Which sounds silly, right?Dr. Justin: But what I've really discovered is that if I can learn how to regulate myself—high emotions equal low intelligence—then I can regulate my emotions, turn them up or down appropriately for the context, and keep them in harmony with my long-term goals, which are to have loving, kind relationships with my children.If I can do that, I'm going to approach them with a tremendously different focus than I will if I'm looking for a short-term fix.And that is something—Anger is a habit. Yelling is a habit. Time-out is a habit. Reward charts are a habit.We can create other habits. We just have to understand the processes and principles behind those habits and then practice them, like we practice a song on the piano, until we finally get it right.Sarah: I love that.So you and Kylie really had a journey—a back-and-forth dance of your own processes and your own development.I do love how you say it's really about us. Whenever I'm working with clients, after a couple of sessions they'll say, “You know what? This isn't even about my kid. This is just about me.”Dr. Justin: Yes. Yes.Sarah: Nobody wants to believe that at first, because it's so much easier to think, I've just got to change them and what they're doing.But it's really all about what we're bringing to the moment and what we're bringing to the relationship.Dr. Justin: I get in trouble sometimes for being overly provocative and saying things that are insensitive, so a quick warning:I want to say what I'm about to say with all the compassion in the world and all the tenderness and care in the world, because I work with people every single day who are dealing with exactly the struggles you're talking about.I want to step into the world of neurodiversity—ADHD, autism, trauma—those kinds of areas.What we're talking about applies there as well. It's just harder.Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: But ultimately, if I'm raising an ADHD child or a child who's been through a traumatic experience, once again, parenting is not about them. It's about how I show up for them.So I can say, “Well, my child's like that,” or, “I'm like this because of the diagnosis,” or because of the label, or because of the trauma, or because of the neural networks doing what they're doing.I can say all of those things, and many people do. It's understandable, and I have all the compassion in the world for them when they do.But the key thing I want to highlight is that in spite of all of those challenges your child might be facing—or even that you might be facing—today begins now.It begins with what you put on your face and what you think in your mind.If we can soften our features and go to our children with kindness and compassion while still holding appropriate limits—or working with them to develop appropriate limits—then what we can say is:“Yes, that bad thing happened,” or, “Yes, we are dealing with this difficulty, so what are we going to do about it?”We can fall into the I can't do anything way of thinking, which is really ineffective and doesn't help at all.Or we can step into I have this incredible thing psychologists call agency, or self-efficacy, where I can make a decision now, and if we work on it, we can actually improve things.It might be a longer, harder road. There may be more obstacles to climb over than a typical family without those challenging circumstances.It may be harder.But we can always improve.I never want to be the person who puts limits on what kids can do or what parents can do.If we change our language, change our focus, and recognize that this is a long game—Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: —which requires sustained effort every single day, it's extraordinary the progress we can make and the changes we can create in our home and our family.Sarah: For sure. Yeah.And unfortunately, it's a long game, right? Because I think today we always want quick answers and solutions.Really, it's just showing up every day as best you can and repairing when you don't show up the way you wish you had.And I think another really important part of it—which you were talking around a little bit—is trying to understand our child's experience and see things from their perspective.I was just talking to a client about that today:What's the most emotionally generous explanation you can come up with for their behavior?Because we don't actually know why anyone does anything, since we're not in their brain.But we often jump to, They're being rude on purpose, or They're trying to annoy me.Really, if we can think, Well, I don't know why they're doing this, but there's probably a reason, because kids want to be good. They want to be connected with us.And just reminding ourselves that they're not giving us a hard time—they're having a hard time.That actually makes it easier, I think, to show up as your best, most compassionate self—with, as you say, soft eyes and warm features.Dr. Justin: Yeah.No child wakes up in the morning thinking, Today's the day. I'm just going to ruin everything.This is the perfect opportunity. My parents are tired and frazzled. There's a cost-of-living crisis. There are all these challenges happening, and if ever there was a moment—it's now. I'm going to do it today.They don't wake up thinking that.Like you said—and you said it so perfectly—kids really do want to please us.I know some parents listening to me say that right now are thinking, No, no. My child does not want to please me.And so the question becomes: Why? Why are they struggling?And maybe this is a nice way for me to bring in some of the principles I learned as I went deeper into self-determination theory.There are a couple of times when children are almost guaranteed to be challenging, and this has nothing to do with self-determination theory. This is just general psychology and wellbeing.I always think of Germany. A police officer tells you to stop, but they don't say the word stop because they're German.In German, the word for stop is halt—H-A-L-T.So we add an S to the end, and the acronym becomes:Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired, or Stressed.Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: Those are the five times when you can all but guarantee your children are not going to be doing well.If they are hungry, get some food into them—ideally a little protein, because it's satiating and helps them feel full quickly.If they're angry, then we've got to remember: high emotions equal low intelligence.You can't think straight in a high emotional state.So our job is to get curious, not furious, because if we fight fire with fire, we end up with a scorched-earth policy and everything gets burned.Dr. Justin: Lonely.I could be sitting right next to you, Sarah, and feel disconnected and lonely—Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: —even if we were very close.Our children are sometimes literally sitting at our kitchen bench, and they feel alone. They feel a little lost. Because of the way we're responding to them—with hard commands, correction, and direction rather than connection—they feel lonely.Tired.I don't even need to explain that.Even as adults, I don't know any couple who, at the end of witching hour—or whatever you might call it in North America, that 5:00 to 7:00 p.m. stretch when the kids—Sarah: Yeah.Dr. Justin: —are just oof…It's the end of that period, and you're exhausted, the kids are exhausted, and you look at your husband or wife and say, “You know what? We are so tired. We're shattered. But boy, are we nailing it tonight.”Nobody ever says that when they're tired—Sarah: Yeah.Dr. Justin: —because you're not nailing it. You're just hanging in there.And it's the same with kids.Then the S is for stressed, and that includes sickness, because sickness is a stress on the body as well.Those five indicators are going to let you know when your child is likely to be challenging, and I think they're really good to watch out for.But if we go a little deeper and talk about self-determination theory, it says that each of us has these needs.You have them, Sarah, and I have them, and our children have them—even your mother-in-law has them.We have three basic psychological needs.When we're in environments where those needs are supported, oh my goodness, we thrive. These are environments we're drawn to and attracted to. We approach them with a smile on our face and can't wait to be there.But if the environment is what researchers call need-thwarting or need-frustrating—meaning it frustrates and thwarts those needs—then we avoid it.Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: Or, if we're in those environments, we act in ways that are challenging.So the basic psychological needs are:Number one: a sense of relationship, or relatedness. That's the technical term they use.Relatedness is a sense of mutual belonging.Sarah: So would it be similar to mattering? Like you feel like you matter to somebody?Dr. Justin: Yeah. There's been a lot of talk recently about mattering.But it's reciprocal mattering. It's not just one-way.It's I matter to you, but you matter to me.Sarah: Yeah.Dr. Justin: Let me use Mother's Day as an example.We just had Mother's Day in Australia at the start of May.If I've got a great relationship with my mother-in-law, and it's Mother's Day, I'm probably going to spend the morning with my wife and family while my children celebrate their mum. Then maybe at lunchtime, we head over to the in-laws to celebrate my wife's mum.If I feel like that relationship need is supported at my mother-in-law's—meaning there's mutual belonging, I matter to her, she matters to me, we enjoy one another's company, and it feels good—I'm going to say:“Great. Let's get in the car. Let's go. What do we need to do?”But if I'm going to a need-frustrating environment—if there's tension, antagonism, snide remarks, eye rolls, silence, defensiveness, or wounds from bad things that happened in the past—that environment doesn't feel good to me.So I'm going to say to Kylie:“Honey, why don't you take the kids to your mum's? Have a great lunch. We've made a big mess this morning, and I think the best thing I can do for your Mother's Day”—and I'll frame it nicely, of course—“is stay home, tidy the house, clean up the kitchen, get everything ready, and put dinner on for tonight so you can have your perfect Mother's Day dinner. I'll see you in four hours.”And then I send her out the door.Why?Because my in-laws' home has become a need-thwarting or need-frustrating environment. I just don't want to be there.And if I am there, I'm going to be sullen and sulky. I might try my best for half an hour and then say, “Oh, this is too hard,” and retreat—Sarah: Or text. The adult version of misbehavior.Dr. Justin: Yes, exactly. Exactly.But if I'm a child in a need-thwarting or need-frustrating environment, I'm going to get into fights with the kids I don't like.Or I'm going to say, “I don't want to go to school because everyone picks on me because I don't regulate my behavior properly because I've got ADHD.”Right?So school becomes a place I don't want to go.Or maybe you have a faith background and your child doesn't have any friends at church.Or you've signed them up for soccer, but they don't know anyone on the team.And they're saying, “Yeah, but I don't want to go.”It all comes down to relationship.Relationship is the basic psychological need that's being thwarted.Now, the second basic psychological need is competence.Competence, I would describe as feeling like I can do the thing I'm being asked to do.Sarah: Or that I want to do.Dr. Justin: Yeah. We'll get to want to in just a second, because want-to is the third basic psychological need—autonomy.So stay with me on competence for a second.Competence is capability. Capacity.It's not even necessarily about being able to do something—it's about feeling like you're making progress toward the goal.Let's say I'm joining acrobatics and trying to learn how to do a handstand.That's really tricky. It's a tough skill.If I show up every week to acrobatics, even if I've got great friends there—so my relationship need is supported—and I love my coach, but every time I try to do a handstand my shoulders buckle, my elbows aren't straight, my form is wrong, I fall over, or I can't stay up…After four or five or six weeks, I'm going to say:“I don't like this anymore. I'm out.”I had a daughter who wanted to come cycling with me.I'm a really keen cyclist. I ride on the road. I'm a middle-aged man in Lycra.But I also ride on the velodrome.You've seen those velodrome bikes at the Olympics—the indoor track where they go around and around and around.You might have noticed that after they finish the race, they keep pedaling and do another 10 laps.The reason is twofold.Number one: there are no brakes on those bikes.And second: they use what's called a fixed gear, meaning that when the wheels are spinning, the pedals are spinning.If you stop pedaling, you're going to get thrown over the handlebars because the wheels are still moving, which means the pedals are still moving, even if you try to stop them.So you just have to keep riding until the bike slows down.My daughter wanted to come to Friday night velodrome racing with me.We didn't have the money, but we spent all this cash on a bike, the Lycra, the helmet, the special shoes—it cost a lot, and I was a poor university student.But my daughter wanted to cycle with me, and I wasn't going to miss that opportunity. So we sacrificed and made it happen.Unfortunately, she was competing against girls who had been riding for four, five, or six years.For the first few weeks, she gave it a good go, but she was losing by several laps every race.After about a month, she said:“Dad, I don't want to do this anymore.”And my response was:“But I've spent all this money.”But what was really going on was that as much as she liked the girls and the atmosphere, she didn't feel competent—Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: —and she didn't see progress.She didn't feel like she was ever going to master the activity, so her motivation and wellbeing plummeted.Cycling became a need-thwarting environment for her.Whether it's piano, violin, rock climbing, cycling, swimming, math, PE class—it doesn't matter.If your kids don't feel like they can do the thing, they're going to push back.They're going to say:“This is too hard. I don't like it.”They won't use these exact words, but what they're really saying is:“This is a need-frustrating environment for me. I don't like it. I don't want to be there.”And then they start to act out.My mom got to the stage with me as a 13-year-old boy where she was physically holding me by the arm and dragging me into my piano lessons.Dr. Justin: Which brings me to my third and final basic psychological need, which is autonomy.A lot of people hear the word autonomy and think it means freedom—that kids can do whatever they want. They think it means independence.That's not what autonomy means, certainly not in the strict scientific form we're talking about within this theory.Rather, autonomy comes down to identifying the value of an activity and therefore endorsing the actions required to do the activity.See, if I, as a 12-year-old, looked at piano and thought:This is going to be a lifelong skill that will bring me joy, that I'll be able to share with others, that I can use in service of my family and community. If I can play piano or keyboard, I could be in a band. I could do all of these things.If I identified the value in the activity, then I would endorse the work required to learn it.So autonomy is not about freedom and independence. It's about choice based on values.That's a lot when you're thinking about three-, four-, and five-year-olds, but not necessarily—Sarah: No, I love that.We talk about that all the time in my communities—how important it is for kids to have autonomy.And I think you can have autonomy even when kids can't be independent, right?Because you can't have a four-year-old who's independent, but you can have a four-year-old who can make decisions that matter.Dr. Justin: Yes, yes.And that decision goes well beyond, Do you want to wear the blue suit or the green one?Sarah: I'll quote our friend Alfie Kohn. He says, “Kids should have the ability to make decisions that make adults gulp a little bit.”Dr. Justin: I love it. Yes. Beautiful.Let me give an adult version of this, and then I'll swing it back into childhood, because sometimes parents hear this and think, This isn't quite computing for me.In Canada, you drive on the right-hand side of the road.Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: And it's true that if you choose to drive on the left-hand side of the road, the authorities will probably get involved. You may cause harm to somebody. You could even end up in prison.But even in the middle of the night, when nobody's on the road, I can't imagine there are too many Canadians who get in the car and think:Tonight's the night. Nobody's watching. I'm gonna drive on the left.You are being absolutely controlled by the government and by the law. You're driving on the right-hand side of the road.But because you identify the value in driving on the right-hand side of the road, nobody has to compel you to do it.You just do it because you endorse the idea that driving on the right is safer. It's what you need to do.So our job with our children is twofold.First, when it comes to these basic psychological needs, we want to help them be in environments—or create environments—where those needs are supported.We want to send them to a school where they have good relationships, where somebody says, “Hey, come sit with us,” where teachers know them by name and smile when they see them and are excited to support them.A school where they're able to experience progress—which might mean less emphasis on grades and more emphasis on developing capability.And a school where they feel like they have some say in where they're going and what they're doing.Rather than being forced to attend a school like I was when I was a teenager, they get to say:“No, I want to go to that school because that's where my friends are.”Or:“That's where the teachers help me feel good.”Or:“That's where my interests lie.”That's the basic psychological-needs concept.Now let's bring that into discipline, which is what started this whole conversation.Based on this theory—and I guess it ties back to a lot of what Alfie Kohn has said as well—I developed a little model that's really easy to memorize and even easier to enact.I call it the Three E's of Effective Discipline.The Three E's of Effective Discipline are need-supportive.If you look at the root of the word discipline, it comes from the idea that we teach, guide, and instruct—that we show the way to follow.Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: But if you look at the modern definition of discipline, the modern definition is punish.Punish means exact retribution. It means hurt. It means make someone pay a price.Sarah: Make people feel bad on purpose.Dr. Justin: Yeah. That's exactly right.And I'm interested in disciplining our kids, not punishing our kids.Punishment is need-thwarting, right?If you make someone feel bad on purpose, there goes the relationship. They feel incompetent, and you've taken away their autonomy.So standard discipline strategies—whether it's time-out, spanking, yelling, withdrawing privileges, taking away the iPad, bribery—all of those standard discipline practices trample over basic psychological needs.We've got to come up with something better.So I developed the Three E's of Effective Discipline, which are basically this:On a beautiful bed of empathy, we explore, we explain, and we empower.Sarah: Ooh, I love that.Dr. Justin: Explore basically means I sit down with my child at an appropriate time.Because we always try to fix things right here, right now.Sometimes we need to, but often intervention simply to make sure people and property aren't hurt—that's all you need.Then you can say to your child:“We'll have a chat about this later when nobody's got a head full of steam.”Kick it down the road.You don't have to fix things right here, right now. Most of the time, it's just not necessary.So once everyone is calm, you explore.You say:“Hey, I've noticed there's been a lot of tension in our home lately between you and your brother.”Or:“Have you noticed that for the last few weeks we've had so much conflict about screens?”And your child says, “Yeah.”And you say:“I just want to listen because parenting's about parents, right? I must be getting something wrong here. Can you help me understand what I'm missing? Where am I going wrong? What's the real problem from your perspective?”Now, there are three things that make this better.Number one: never do it with an audience.Kids always want to save face. They don't feel competent when we start these conversations in front of other people.Number two: have some treats.Because once you're feeding them, they're like:“Oh, I'm not in trouble. We're just chatting, and there are cookies,” or a thick shake, or something like that.And number three: take notes.When you're trying to solve problems—and that's really what discipline is—The Three E's of Effective Discipline are about problem-solving.Discipline—meaning helping, teaching, guiding, instructing—is really about solving problems.So if I want to solve problems effectively in my home—if I want to discipline my children well—I'm trying to say:“Where are you coming from? What am I missing?”When you take notes on what your kids are saying, it's amazing how much information they give you because they realize:You're really listening to me.Sarah: Yeah. You're taking me seriously. You're writing down what I say.Dr. Justin: They're blown away by it.So they'll tell you a bunch of stuff.Now, every now and then they won't. Sometimes they'll shrug and say, “I don't know.”And you can say:“Well, if you don't know, that's fine. But if you did know…”This drives kids crazy, but it's my favorite sentence.“If you did know, what do you think the answer would be?”Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: And they roll their eyes.“Well, I don't know. That's what I said. If I knew, I'd tell you, but I don't know.”And I say:“I know you don't know, and I understand that if you did know, you would tell me. But if you did know, what would you tell me?”Sarah: I love that.Dr. Justin: They get this feeling—it's like this horrible psychological trick where:I don't know the answer, but if I had to come up with one, I guess I'd say this…And now the conversation starts.You get momentum.Sarah: You Jedi mind-trick them.Dr. Justin: Yeah. It's beautiful.And you write it down.At no point are you allowed to interrupt.At no point are you allowed to tell them they're wrong.At no point are you allowed to respond with your adult wisdom.You just listen.Sarah: Okay, and we're still on explore?Still on the first E?Dr. Justin: We're still on the first E.You make all these notes, and once it sounds like they've told you everything, you say:“All right. So what you're telling me is…”And then you read the notes back.This is the oldest psychological strategy in the book—I'm not saying anything new here.If they say, “Yes, that's what I'm saying,” you say:“All right. Great. I've got it.”If they say no, then you say:“Oh, what have I missed? How did I get this wrong? Clarify it for me.”And they give you more information.But there's a really valuable question at the end.When they say, “Yes, that's what I'm saying,” you ask:“Fantastic. Is there anything else?”Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: The power of asking that extra question is profound.It forces them to go deeper.Sometimes they'll say, “No, that's it.”But often, their first answers are shallow answers to get you off their back.They're thinking:I'm telling you what I think you want to hear.But when you say:“Got it. You're happy with this answer? Fantastic. Is there anything else going on?”That's when they look at you and think:Oh—you're actually serious about this. You really care.Sarah: And you're really listening to me.Dr. Justin: Yeah.And it's profound what children will give you after you ask, “Is there anything else?”Once you've got everything written down, confirmed, and you're clear, the next step is explain.Dr. Justin: Now, there are a couple of things around explain.Explain is basically the part where you tell them what they need to know. This is the parent bit.But all too often, we step into lecturing, and the kids fall asleep. They're like, “Oh, here we go again. I thought this was going to be different, but it's no different after all.”So there are a couple of things we need to get right here.Number one: if you're going to explain anything to your children, my recommendation is that you keep it to less than 20 seconds.Now, there's no science around this. This is just my experience in talking with parents and kids in my own family. I find that if you talk for more than 10 to 20 seconds, kids really do tune out, and it goes back to the way things have always been.The second thing is that I always ask permission.“Now that I've listened to you, Sarah, there are just one or two things I'd love to run by you about what's going on. Do you mind if I do that?”I want to make this absolutely clear: as a parent, you do not need your child's permission to tell them things. I really, absolutely, honestly believe that. As the parent, you have the right to tell them stuff they need to know.But this isn't about rights. This is about effectiveness.If I launch into, “Well, Sarah, now that I've listened to that, I get it, but I need to tell you these two things,” I'm already bringing defensiveness back into the relationship.Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: Barriers are coming up.Whereas if I say, “Sarah, this is so helpful. As I've listened to you, two things have come to mind. Do you mind if I share both of those with you?” Your instant response, even as I say it—I'm watching your face—Sarah: I'm nodding.Dr. Justin: And you're going—Sarah: Yeah.Dr. Justin: Yeah. I actually want to know.You're opening up your heart and mind to me, and we're just role-playing this.Sarah: Yeah, yeah. Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: And that's what our kids do. They're like, “Oh, okay.” Because we've given them the courtesy of listening—Sarah: Well, and you're not trying to use your power over them.Dr. Justin: Exactly.This is a non-coercive, really supportive conversation.And I still haven't had this happen. A lot of parents will say, “Well, what happens if they say no?”And I'm like, “I've raised six kids, and they've never actually looked at me and said, ‘Now that I think about it, no, I don't need to know anything that you…'”They've just never done it.But even if they did—Sarah: Well, if they do, it's probably that they're—what did you say? When emotions are high, intelligence is low. Maybe it wasn't the right time to have the conversation.If they're saying no, then they're probably still angry and holding onto whatever was going on for them.Dr. Justin: Exactly.But if they're that angry, they're probably not going to have explored nicely with you anyway.Sarah: Yes, exactly. So pick—Dr. Justin: A different time.You're probably not even going to—Sarah: Get to that point. Yeah.Dr. Justin: So it's very much: keep it really short, ask permission, and then share.Sarah: Okay. So give me examples.You said, “We've been fighting about screens,” was one example. You also gave the example of, “You've been fighting a lot with your brother.”So in the explain—10 to 20 seconds—choose one of those scenarios. After hearing your child, what would you say in that 10 to 20 seconds?Dr. Justin: I did this just the other day with my 16-year-old daughter, Lily, who is on social media more than she should be. There's been some tension and conflict.I listened. She shared some ideas, and I said, “There are just a couple of things I want to run by you. Is that okay?”She said, “Sure, Dad.”I said, “Great. There are certain times when we're trying to connect or have family time, and there are certain contexts where you're on your device and we just can't reach you.”She looked at me and said, “Yeah, I know.”I said, “Okay. The second thing I want to highlight is that we've noticed you're sleeping in because, even though you're not supposed to, you've been taking your phone into your bedroom at night and staying up late scrolling. Unless I'm reading it wrong, I'm pretty sure that's what's been happening.”And she said, “No, I have been, Dad. You're right.”So it's just two really succinct sentences where I'm stating what I'm seeing. I'm sharing my experience.Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: If it were the sibling fighting, I'd say, “Yeah, your brother is really annoying. I get what's going on. Sometimes I wish he didn't live in our house as well.”I might have a joke with them about the challenge associated with that.And then I might say, “So when this happens, can I just share how it feels for me? It breaks my heart. I love both of you so very much, and my dream is for our family to enjoy being in one another's company and to look forward to conversations and jokes and doing the things we do. When this stuff is going on, it feels like that's a pipe dream.“And secondly, psychologically—you know I've got this PhD in psychology—I know that there's damage being done to the way your brother feels about himself. That's what I'm worried about.”So I've had both of those little conversations on two different topics, sharing two different things, and both were about 10 seconds each.Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: Again, it's conversational. It's not lecture-style.Sarah: And it's from the heart.I can feel it, even though this is just an example you're giving. I can feel that it's from your heart—that you're really being open and sharing with your child what your true concerns are.You're not trying to power over or control. You're really sharing a heartfelt sentiment.Dr. Justin: Yeah. Thank you. That's the goal.You won't always do that, but that's the goal.The reason there's a problem is because your values are not being upheld in the home, and you're trying to communicate that in a way that shows you honor them and that they've got a brain.Now, we've used two really grown-up versions—or teenage versions, I guess. But you can have the same conversations with three- and four-year-olds. It's just shorter. It's simpler.Usually, with those conversations, in a pretty tight timeframe—60 to 90 seconds—you've done the whole process.There is a higher-order—Sarah: Okay, so what's the third part?Dr. Justin: Just before I get to that one, if you really want to do the advanced version of explain, what I'll often do after I've explored with my child is say:“Okay, so this is the bit where I'd normally explain what's going on from my point of view. I wonder if you can tell me what you think I'm going to say here.”Sarah: Ah.Dr. Justin: And so I get them to explain the explain to me.The reason that's so effective is that whenever my mouth is the one that's moving, my brain is the one that's working.If I can get their mouth moving, their brain is doing the heavy lifting.Sarah: Love that.Dr. Justin: That's really, really effective.And then the last one—Sarah: Is empower.And you're also helping them see things and develop empathy, right? To see things from somebody else's perspective.Dr. Justin: Yes. Powerful.The last one is empower.That's literally as simple as saying, “Okay, so I get where you're coming from. We've had that conversation very thoroughly. You know what my challenge is here. What do you think we should do?”“Where do we go from here? How do we solve this in a way that we can both feel good about?”It's true that every now and then, your child will shrug their shoulders and say, “I don't know.”Or they'll shrug and say, “Well, we should just do what I want to do.”And as a parent, that's where you step in and say my favorite line:“Don't you just wish? Don't you just wish we could?”Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: Because—well, let me ask you, Sarah. When I say, “Don't you just wish,” or, “Wouldn't it be good if we could?”—same thing—what have I actually said?Sarah: Total empathy. Heaps of empathy.Dr. Justin: Total empathy.But I've also said something else really clearly.Sarah: That that's not going to work.Dr. Justin: Correct. The answer is no.But it's a no with so much love, kindness, empathy, and gentleness in it—Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: —that your child goes, “Oh, yeah. I know.”And then you say, “So let's see if we can come up with a solution that will work.”What else might work for you when it comes to your brother?What else might work for you when it comes to the party on Friday night that I'm not willing to let you go to?What else could work when it comes to our screen challenges? Because this is an ongoing issue for us, isn't it?Every now and then, you won't get an answer right away. You'll say, “Well, let's talk about it again tonight,” or, “Let's talk about it again tomorrow once you've had some time to think about it.”But I'm big on deadlines.“We need to have this worked out by the end of the weekend, okay? I don't want to go through another week of this. We've got to find a solution. If we haven't had another chat by tomorrow night, we're going to sit down and work it out then.”And I also don't have a problem at this point—Laura Walker is a researcher at BYU in Utah, and she did a study published in the Journal of Adolescence where she found that parents who use these kinds of strategies—she's not talking about the Three E's of Effective Discipline, because that's the thing I developed, but it's based on the same sort of theory that she researches—Parents who use these kinds of strategies, even when they do have to step in and say, “All right, well, we haven't come up with a solution, so it's going to be my way,” kids are much more likely to be responsive and compliant—Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: —because we've been through a process with them that is not autocratic. It's not authoritarian.They've felt like they had a voice. Their perspective has been seen and heard. They've had some input.And even though they don't get what they want all the time—because we're the parents, and sometimes the fact that we've climbed 47 rungs on the ladder of life and they've only climbed 13 is all we need.Sarah: That's what I call in my work the goodwill bank.When your kids experience you as collaborative, non-coercive, and not power-tripping—when they know, over the period of their childhood, that they can trust you to take their preferences into account and be respectful of them—then when you do have to say no about something, even if they don't like it, there's this goodwill bank behind you and this level of trust.When you mentioned, “You can't go to the party on Friday,” I never had that issue with my kids because everything was so collaborative.We'd have similar conversations. I didn't have—I'm not very good at thinking of things like the Three E's—but similar kinds of processes where they'd say why they wanted to go, I'd say what my concerns were, and then they'd invariably say, “Oh, yeah, you're probably right.”It was never, “You can't go.”It was, “These are my concerns. This is what I've been thinking about.”Because they experienced that whole process over years of parenting, you don't get the pushback because they don't feel like you're power-tripping them.Dr. Justin: Yeah.Sarah, I had an experience with one of my adult children who was still living at home. I think she was maybe 19 or 20 when this happened.She wanted to go and do something, and I said to her, “You're an adult. You do get to choose for yourself whether you will do this or not, but I've got some really big concerns about you doing it.“I actually think you're putting yourself into a dangerous situation. There's some history, some volatility, and some challenges if you go and involve yourself in this particular activity. Tell me why this is so important to you.”So she walked me through it, and I said, “Okay, I get it. How do my concerns stack up against your desire to be there?”And she said, “Dad, I get what you're saying, but I want to go.”And I said, “Okay, so…”You used that beautiful term, the goodwill bank. I can't remember exactly what my words were, but I'm going to use your term right now, because I essentially said:“I'm going to use the goodwill I've built up with you over the last however many years and step in really firmly and say you're making a mistake.“As your dad, even though you're an adult, I want to forbid you to go. That's how strongly I feel about this. To the degree that I can, I forbid it.“Ultimately, you will choose because you are an adult, but I don't want you there.”Sarah: I'm going on the record.Dr. Justin: Yeah, yeah.“I need you to trust that this is a bad idea. We can come up with any number of other activities you could do instead, with different people in a different location, but this is a bad idea, and you have none of my support should you go.“If you go and something goes wrong, you call me and I'll come rescue you. But it is a bad idea, and I forbid it.”And I couldn't believe I was saying those words. I've never said them in my life, and now I was saying them to an adult.But she looked at me and said, “Okay.”Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: She didn't fight me. She didn't say, “I can do what—”Sarah: No, because you built up the history with her of how she experienced you.Dr. Justin: Yeah. She was like, “Wow, this is serious. He's never said that before. If he feels that strongly, maybe he's right. Maybe I need to find an alternative.”So anyway, that's the Three E's of Effective Discipline.I feel like I've talked too much, Sarah. I wanted to be much more conversational, but I get carried away when we—Sarah: No, no. I love it.I feel like it's very complementary to the things that I teach, and you've given me some new things to teach parents as well.I love having sort of snappy—the Three E's of Discipline. I think that's great. I love it. I'll share it.Dr. Justin: Yeah, please. Absolutely.It's helped so many millions of parents.Sarah: Yeah.Well, I love that we've connected across the world—from the other side of the world to each other—and I look forward to hopefully talking to you again in March of 2027 when your book Boys comes out.I figured we were going to talk about that, but we had such a lovely conversation about peaceful parenting, discipline, and—oh my God, it's gone right out of my head—Dr. Justin: Self-determination theory.Sarah: Self-determination theory.I think it was a really great conversation, and I really appreciate you sharing all of your experience and wisdom.Dr. Justin: I loved the conversation.Like I said, it was too one-sided. I wish we'd been able to go backward and forward a bit more, but let's do it again.Let's chat again next year when the book comes out, and we'll talk about boys and how to help them.There's so much talk about toxic masculinity.Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: Wouldn't it be great if we could give them a view of healthy masculinity—a model of that to follow?That's what my book is all about: how we can guide boys into a healthy form of masculinity.Sarah: Well, for folks in Australia, your book is coming out in June 2026. For folks in North America, it's not coming out until spring 2027.So I will definitely be ringing you up and having you come back on to talk about the book when you've got your North American release. I know we're going to have a great conversation then.Before I let you go, though, I have a question that I ask all my podcast guests:If you had a time machine and you could go back and tell your younger parent self something, what advice would you give yourself?Dr. Justin: Jean-Jacques Rousseau said there is—I can't remember the quote exactly—but: What wisdom is there that is greater than kindness?I've paraphrased it. It's not perfect, but it's something along those lines.Interestingly, Rousseau had, I think, five children—maybe six—and he put them all into orphanages somewhere in the first 18 months of their lives so he could spend more time writing and focusing on how to be a good person, which I just find criminal. I can't believe it.So take it for what it's worth, but “What wisdom is there that's greater than kindness?” is what Rousseau said.I've mentioned this idea of soft eyes a couple of times. If I could go back, I would teach myself about kindness. I'd teach myself about many of the things we've talked about today.But I just want to quickly share the story of soft eyes.As an academic, I want everything I say to be evidence-based. There is no evidence that I'm aware of where people have done any kind of randomized controlled trial where parents are asked to interact with their children with soft eyes, neutral eyes, hard eyes, or anything like that.Soft eyes is this idea—I was giving a presentation at a public library one time, and an elderly lady stepped into the back of the room, sat down, and listened to the last 25 or 30 minutes of my presentation. She must have liked what she could hear from the corridor outside, and she stepped in to listen.After everybody had left, she walked over to me and said, “I really enjoyed what you shared. I'd love to tell you something my grandmother said to me.”So we're going back into the early 1900s.Her grandmother said, “Whenever you're talking to your children about matters of discipline, make sure you have soft eyes.”And I thought, I really like that.Because if you try to have a conversation with somebody and your eyes are soft, you just can't say mean things. You can't say harsh things. You can't have harsh thoughts.If you soften your eyes, your face softens and your heart softens. You have this beautiful compassion and kindness, this ability to see the best in them rather than the worst in them, to assume positive intent.There's something gorgeous about soft eyes.So I would go back and quote Rousseau better than I just quoted him to you, and I would tell my younger self that soft eyes will make a tremendous impact on all of my relationships.Sarah: Ah.There's an American—I don't know if you've heard of him in Australia—but he's a pretty well-known marriage counselor, Terry Real.Dr. Justin: Oh, yeah. I quote him in my book.Sarah: Yeah, yeah. He does a lot of work about—well, he says something like, “There's nothing that harshness can accomplish that kindness can't accomplish better.”Dr. Justin: That's so beautiful.Sarah: Mm-hmm.Dr. Justin: Thank you. That's inspiring. I'm so glad you shared that.Sarah: Yeah. I love it.It's hard to remember, but I think it is true. And I wish that—and I know the world needs a dose of that right now.Dr. Justin: Yeah. Yeah.Sarah: One hundred percent.Well, thank you so much.Where's the best place for folks to go and find out more about you and what you do?Dr. Justin: Probably my podcast, the Happy Families Podcast. My wife and I drop a 15-minute nugget of parenting wisdom every day, five days a week.Sarah: Oh, wow!Dr. Justin: Yeah. It's a lot of content, but it's bite-sized chunks, and it's entertaining. We're fun. We get to do it together.And the Happy Families Podcast. I've got a website called happyfamilies.com.au, but basically, if you like what we've talked about—Sarah: We'll link to all of that in the show notes. We'll link to your website and your podcast, and I'm sure it's easy to find you.Dr. Justin: That sounds great. Thanks, Sarah.Sarah: Thank you so much.Dr. Justin: What a great, great conversation. Lovely to be with you.Reimagine Peaceful Parenting with Sarah Rosensweet Substack is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber. This is a public episode. If you'd like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit sarahrosensweet.substack.com/subscribe

Welcome to Episode 398!! Are you ready to get your kicks on Route 66 - but it's 1954 and you're a black American? We talk about the Green Book for motorists as well as lots of other Rte 66 stuff on our trip through Claremore, OK. W.oW. Highs/Lows News She Knows Moto and so Much more- From Radiation Water to Esso stations and all that jazz!! Please leave a rating, comment or feel free to reach out to Creative-Riding via the email or social links included in the show notes: Resources: https://negromotoristgreenbook.si.edu/ https://www.classicbikehub.uk/buying-guide/article/the-triumph-speed-twin/ Show contact info Creative Riding is available on Apple Podcasts, Sound Cloud, Google Play, Tune In, Spotify, etc. Leave the show a rating and review on your favorite podcast app. https://motorcycle-podcasts.com/ Check out our blog: creative-riding.com Contact the show: Discord: https://discord.gg/3kzhhChcUj Email: creativeridingpodcast@gmail.com FB/IG: @creativeridingpodcast Reddit: @Creative_Riding Support the show: patreon.com/creativeriding zazzle.com/store/creative_riding

XQQ, crowがホストを務める、9のつく日に更新のゆるくてディープなesportsラジオ。このエピソードではta1yo, KH、そして収録に2時間半遅刻してきたMeLtonの仲良し3人がOWの魅力を熱弁します。

In this episode I muse about all sorts of subjects while I take you along for an easy Sunday morning run. If you want to comment on today's episode, consider signing up on Patreon and join the Lonely Triathlete community!Join our community at www.patreon.com/TheLonelyTriathleteTranscriptAll right. Well, this is my first run of the year. in shorts and a t-shirt. And I am stoked. Absolutely love it. Now, I was thinking, how often do we really love our workouts? It's a great question, because I'm on an indoor bike, most of the year, and I like my workouts, but do I love them? No? I'm more interested in maybe the podcast I'm listening to or the movie I'm watching. But for the actual workout, curious about it, kind of like the feeling of sweat. But do I love it? No. Swimming in the winter. When you go to the pool at 6 in the morning, 6:30 in the morning, and it's dark and cold outside, it's fun to swim. But do you love it? Most of the time, I don't love it, but when you swim outside in a lake or the ocean with your wetsuit, that, that stuff that I love. And running in the dark and the cold, and sometimes the snow and the rain, don't love it. Don't even... don't even like it half the time. But now, in the sunshine, love it.Another thing I do love is running on trails. I never used to run the trails that much because, oh, you know, I didn't know the exact distances. This was before GPS watches, of course. And it was a very terrain, so I couldn't establish a solid pace. He just felt all too random for me. So I'd be running on the road a lot. In the last couple of years, I've really disliked running on the road. Not 'cause of the road. But because of the traffic. And there's a section here in Victoria, where I have to run on the road a bit, and, uh, it's starting to bug me. I'm feeling, uh, what's the word? Negative towards the loud trucks, the loud motorcycles, a blast by me. I don't know. I don't like running on the road as much as I used to. So that brings up the point. What do we do? to enjoy our workouts more? I think it starts with identifying what we like and then doing more of what we like. So I just said, I like trail running. I'm gonna focus more running on trails. I like swimming in the lakes in the ocean, well more lakes than ocean. I'm kind of dependent upon the weather and temperature, obviously, but I'm gonna be swimming in the lake, probably starting next weekend. So that's good. Now, riding my bike, that's a different story, because I get so much fitness riding indoors. So I really don't want to do training rides outside, necessarily, unless they're long. Long, and easy kind of rides. So I'll have to give that a thought.So I may have just inspired myself. I think if I can't get out for a training run on the road, then maybe I'll go out for at least a pleasurable, a pleasurable ride. Longer, easier ride, on the weekend, outside, just so I can enjoy being outside my bike more.Sunday morning, and I've already run past 15 dog walkers, 15 dogs, 15 kilos. Nothing, says Victoria, weekend mornings, like dog walking, that's for sure. A lot of dogs in this area.All right, my run has taken me down along the ocean, or just above the ocean. And I'm heading up about a one kilometre hill. Hello, Crow. I'm not talking to you. And, uh, yeah, so I'll be doing a slow jog up a hill with, guess what? More traffic. You can't escape it. But I was thinking as I have my eyes on the ocean here. running up this hill, how fortunate I am to be living in a location that is conducive to my passions, my interests, when it comes to sports. I go kayaking. I run, I can bike, I can swim in the lakes. Absolutely fantastic. Oh, I gotta run across this massive lane. I found myself in a bike lane. Not a run lane. Okay, across the ditch. Into the sidewalk. Yeah, how conducive it is to live in an area that... is conducive to, uh, doing the things I love. And I know that we all can't choose necessarily, very easily, the places that we live, especially if we've got a job, and we can't change locations easily.But it is a reminder that if, if we can, if it's possible to choose a location to live, the next time you're moving, I would give serious, serious thought. to the location, the geography, that you're moving to. Don't just, you know, move to a place that's 10 minutes close to the work. But maybe, maybe a place that's 15 minutes away from work, but puts you in the heart of a trail system. Or buy the water. I don't know, something to think about.All right, halfway up this hill, and the traffic is going by, and I realize another thing I can't stand about traffic is the pollution. Oh, man. When someone goes by me, I just smell gas and oil. I was going in my lungs. Can't stand it. Maybe every more reason to live out in the country, right? We all can't all be so lucky, but, oh, I tell you, being near the place near the places where you enjoy, it goes a long way in your life. It really does.Alright, head me to the top of the hill. And I am sweating now. It is so warm. It's not even summer yet. This is gonna be an awesome summer. There's something about good temperatures, like, shirts and T-shirt running. I feel like I can go for hours. But if it was windy and cold, I think I just want to quit. I just wanna get the workout done with. But at this point, I don't want the workout to end. Another thing... Oh, man, sweat's getting my eyes. Another thing about me is sweat is, I've got thick eyebrows. I got bushy eyebrows. And the plus... Yeah, everyone's out doing their yard work. The plus and minus of it is, when I first start working out, sweat's not dripping down my face at all. because it's being collected in my eyebrows. Great. But, at some point, the eyebrows become saturated. And then... and then the sweat starts to drip. It's like having these two sponges on my eyes, full of water, and they will drip and drip and drip, and never stop.No, you've obviously noticed that I'm recording while I'm running. So what am I recording on? Well, I got a, I got a brand new DJI, Mike Minnie, Bluetooth, microphone I've attached to my, my ball cap, and I'm recording through my phone, so just running with my phone in my hand, recording off this Mike Mini. And I bought this mic specifically to do more, more outdoor stuff. So you all can get a bit more of variety as you listen to the lonely triathlete, and I've got more in store. So if you head over to Patreon, check out the show notes, head the Patreon, join our one of our supporter tiers. And you'll be able to take advantage of more cool little things I'm doing this year. Video, droning, stuff on the bike, all sorts of stuff planned. So you want to go over and be a member? so that you can, uh, take part, take part in that, join the community. So here I am, about to take a halfway turn.All right, I'm getting close to my halfway point of this 45 minute run, and I climbed to the top of the major part of my elevation, and then the last half is mostly downhill. Which is fantastic. Kind of tired of sucking all the gas tumes on this main route. So, when I take my left hand turn, it's a slightly less driven route. But there will be cars, no doubt. And I passed 10 more dogs and two children in dollies, or whatever you call them. Try all these dollies, push carts, strollers. That's a word I'm looking for. Oh, my gosh. An 18 wheeler is gonna go by me. Wow. Where is everyone going on a Sunday morning? You know, I'll go to church. I'll tell you that. Uh... So, gotta talk about... the elephant that is in the room. Or, rather, the elephant that seems to be in my butt. I got another injury. Huh, fire truck. What a crazy morning. Don't know if you can hear that, but that's a one alarm fire. And here's my left turn. So, anyway, my injury. I have... a pretty good haemorrhoid. And I've really never had haemorrhoids before. I mean, maybe I've had something I thought was a haemorrhoid, but this, no doubt, this is a haemorrhoid. I felt it about four days ago. I was in the shower, washing myself. thoroughly, and now as I was getting in there, nice and personal like, I was like, ow. Ow, what is that in my butt? Oh, so I kind of felt around and said, Oh, geez. Does someone put, like, a grape in my butt? What the heck? Now, initially I thought, Oh, great. I've got rectal cancer. Because everything I see on social media these days is the rise in colorectal cancers. And, to be honest, it's something to be aware of. But I don't think, I mean, this isn't rectal. This is, like, anal. Like, I've got anal cancer. I guess it's possible. Just comes out of nowhere. don't know. But, you know, I'm, I don't know what I did to cause it. That's the problem. is I don't strain when I go to the bathroom, like, I'm very aware, 'cause, like I said, I've had prior run ins with the old capital H. So I'm really cautious about that. But I do sit a lot for work. I do sit on my bike every day, or every other day, and I'm running, and right now, as I'm running, I'm clenching a bit to make sure that I'm not putting any extra pressure on that region. Don't know if that's helping. or hurting. Oh, people. 50, 7 years old, turning 58, in 18 days. And now I'm getting the old people's problems. I came the old people's problems. I've gotten haemorrhoids. What's next? Oh, I'm sure there's stuff coming. I am sure I am in for a treat, as I continue to get older.ll right, here's here's the deal about walkers, especially dog walkers. I find the tend to take up the entire sidewalk, the entire walking lane. And I'm running against traffic. And I just came up upon, You guessed it, two more dogs, and their walker, and they took up the whole lane. And, you know, I may be too polite. I hate culling it like, On your right, on your left, come behind you. I have done that when I need to. But I don't know. Just feel like nice, quiet Sunday morning, and I'm shouting at someone that, get out of my way. But, uh, as I get closer, I just start to scrape my feet and pound my feet just a little bit louder. And 95% of people get that. Get that message, and they pull over. So, that's what I do. I just start clumping along louder. Gets the job done.So I tell you, my body is sore. Today, 'cause yesterday, I had a 19 minute indoor cycle, moderate, so that, you know, gets you a little bit sore, just by itself. And then I did two and a half hours of yard work. Now, for those gardeners, listening, they're like, Todd, two and a half hours. You're a baby. Yeah, maybe I am. What about it? But two and a half solid hours at my typical rushing pace, that I'm trying not to rush so much. But I wouldn't say I rushed, but it was definitely in the zone and didn't take really any breaks. So two and a half hours of cleaning my barbeque, cleaning off the back patio, flower pots, dumping organic flower waste into the forest. You know, us love back and forth and stretching my back. Oh, man, my back was really, really tight. Almost to the point where I thought, Did I did I hurt myself? What a dummy. I hurt myself. But, no, I'm not hurt. other than my butt. Uh, I'm just sore, and it shows up on runs. I'll tell you. All right, about now, I'm, what, 30 minutes in? And my low back is saying, yeah, I remember yesterday. Remember how hard? You worked yesterday? Well... But that's okay. Life is... life is overcoming pain. And this is just another pain I'm overcoming.All right, let's talk fuelling. I think some people fuel too much. I think some people don't feel enough. As for me, I try to strike a nice balance, where I feel, I add some fuel to every exercise. But I don't overdo it. So anything under an hour will typically get 25 or 30 grams of carbs. So it's, like, 100, just over 100 calories, like, 100, 120 calories. Especially if the effort isn't all that hard. If I'm doing, like, a major effort, then I'll probably ingest a few more carbs before I start, or maybe even a few more carbs, like, on the effort itself. But you gotta kind of find that balance. And so for this run, for instance, I even bring water. Why? Because it's 45 minutes. I'm not gonna get dehydrated in 45 minutes. I had a banana and coffee. And then, half an hour later, I'm out the door. So, what's a banana? 100, 100 calories, 120 calories, so? Yeah. It's easily enough to fuel. An endurance effort for 45 minutes. But one thing I've been thinking about lately is my salt intake for longer efforts. 'Cause I crammed up so bad last year, during the 70 3, where I could hardly, I could hardly run. And as part of that just muscular issues, I didn't train long enough on the bike, I didn't do enough bricks. I don't know. But it also could have been salt. So I'm thinking of, and I've been self solving for this for years. I add salt, tablets to my drinks. But it's kind of guesswork. It's like, oh, I had 500 milligrams per litre. And they don't have crapping issues. So, is that solving my problem? 'Cause I did not get it right in the 70.3. So, I'm thinking, maybe I start to go with something like precision, nutrition, because they're experts in electrolytes. Sodium. So I'm gonna be looking into that this year.All right, that's the conclusion of my running thoughts episode. I hope you all enjoyed it. You can tell me if you liked it. If you were a member of the podcast, over the Patreon, sign up, and then you can tell me, Todd, I can't stand when you run and talk. Or more of that, please. Or tell me exactly what brand of carbohydrate powder that you use, and because I'm sitting here right now with 25 grams of the best carb powder I've ever had in my life. I've been using it for the past 3 years at least, and I can't see every changing. I threw in 10 grams, no, 5 grams of creatine, and they're both 100 grams of magnesium. For a little after run rejuvenation. And now I'm sitting in the sun. I'm not wearing sunscreen, so that's gonna have a time limit. And I'm also with some bees. And if you know anything about me, I do not like bees. I mean, I like bees. Actually, I like bees, honey bees, mini tasted bee. I detest and loathe wasps. They are not anyone's friend. They are not kind to anyone. I don't care how good they are for the environment. I think they're a plague upon the earth. And yeah, unfortunately, I have to share my outdoor spaces with wasps every now and then. Wish me luck. All right, for real. until next time. peace.

In this episode of Eat Sleep Wine Repeat, Janina heads to the Atlantic coast of Galicia in Spain to explore one of the most exciting wine regions for white wines: Rías Baixas. Joined by winemaker Aran Álvarez from Martín Códax, this episode is a deep dive into Albariño from Rías Baixas - one of the most expressive white wine grapes in the world. From terroir and climate to winemaking techniques, lees ageing, sparkling styles, orange wine and even noble rot, this episode explores just how many different expressions one grape can create. If you want to learn about wine, understand how wine styles are shaped, and get inspired for your next wine travel destination, this episode is for you.   04:11 – Val do Salnés explained — the heart of Albariño and a key Atlantic wine region. 05:47 – Climate change — shifting rainfall patterns and their impact on vineyards. 06:46 – Pergola (emparrado) training — the traditional system adapted to humidity. 11:18 – Atlantic influence — how proximity to the ocean shapes salinity and freshness. 13:03 – A benchmark Albariño — fresh, saline and beautifully balanced; try Martín Códax Albariño (Rías Baixas) 15:12 – Granitic soils — drainage, organic matter and their role in wine structure. 17:11 – Winemaking styles — from fresh Albariño to lees-aged expressions such as Martín Códax Lías 21:05 – Lees aging explained — how it transforms texture, flavour and complexity. 22:38 – Batonnage technique — how winemakers integrate lees without oxidation. 26:28 – Innovation at Martín Códax — why experimentation drives new wine styles. 28:58 – Why make sparkling Albariño (Martín Códax Espumoso)? Exploring the grape's natural potential. 30:03 – Harvest timing — multiple harvest stages depending on wine style. 32:21 – Lessons from sparkling winemaking — acidity, timing and precision. 37:28 – Lees interaction — why Albariño absorbs texture and complexity so well. 38:45 – Dry Albariño affected by Noble Rot (Martín Códax Gallaecia) — how a rare late-harvest wine style was developed. 44:26 – Orange wine (Martín Códax OW)  — skin contact, structure and a completely different expression. 47:58 – Aging potential — how Albariño evolves beyond its youthful freshness. 49:43 – Climate adaptation — vineyard experiments, data and future-proofing the grape. 52:31 – Martín Códax philosophy — community, culture and generational winemaking.  

"Hee hee. Ow!" Those are the noises you make when a laser from an alien spacecraft shoots you in 1967 Manitoba. Or when a diamond-shaped craft in rural Texas bathes you in radiation on a cold December night in 1980. Or when you're just trying to sleep on a Brazilian island and something called "Chupa Chupa" decides to use you as a snack. Those incidents -and hundreds like them = add up to something even stranger than the aliens, cryptids, or apparitions themselves. A pattern. A map. A theory that explains all of it. You're going to find out what that is in this episode. By the time you finish listening to this episode, perhaps by the time you've finished reading this sentence, this week's guest will have finished writing yet another fact-supported, heavily detailed, richly sourced book about ancient archaeology. Or alien sightings. Or religious apparitions. Or cryptids. Or climate shifts across the millennia. Yes, any of those topics. And yes, a full book. If Substack tried to contain the output of George Mitrovic, returning champion, it would crash like a saucer in '47. (Seriously, the Greys don't use Waymo?!) He's the HARDEST WORKING MAN IN FRINGE RESEARCH. Prolific, wise, witty, honest, and the unquestionable KING OF P.O.P. (Paranormal Observable Phenomena, i.e., a bunch of people have seen it and it's left physical traces. Saucers with souvenirs, Bigfoot leaving skidmarks, you get the picture). With over 150 books, one of the highest measured IQs on his side of the world, and a lifetime of research, scholarship, data mapping, pattern recognition, and scientific analysis, George brings something unique to the world of paranormal research: a grand unifying framework for where and why paranormal events happen. Fully mapped, explained, and unlimited in its potential. In this episode, Greg sits down with George to get to the bottom of why this may be the most important scholarship on the unexplained that nobody is talking about. If you've ever wanted to traverse the multiverse, George's Sine Wave Theory is your ticket to other dimensions. You ARE the cryptid. We all are. George's Links:

US President Trump threatened massive military escalation if Iran deal terms are not met, vowed no nuclear weapons, and they are to secure the Strait of Hormuz.Iranian Deputy Foreign Minister said the Speaker of Parliament will lead Iran's delegation for the talks, and the exchange of messages continues via Pakistan, Al Jazeera reported.European bourses pull back as ceasefire begins to crack, Citi reinforces its OW stance on Banks; US equity futures soft.DXY firms on hawkish Fed Minutes, NZD continues to gain amid hawkish Breman.Fixed benchmarks pull back from highs, US PCE ahead. Crude nurses losses as ceasefire hopes wane while the IRGC announces a new Hormuz corridor.Looking ahead, highlights include US Initial Jobless Claims (Apr/04), PCE Final (Feb), GDP Final (Q4), Atlanta Fed GDP, NBP Policy Announcement, Banxico Minutes. Supply from the US.Read the full report covering Equities, Forex, Fixed Income, Commodites and more on Newsquawk

A lot of organizations are betting that AI will make their teams faster. Some of them are right. Most are solving the wrong problem.AJ Bubb, founder of MxP Studio and host of Facing Disruption, joins Peter and Dave to talk about what actually happens when AI lands in a development team without fixing the system around it. If engineers can't get approvals, can't get access, and spend half their day in meetings, AI just means they produce more output the organization still can't handle. That's not a tooling problem. It's a structural one.They also get into velocity without direction, what ownership really looks like when a ticket gets blocked, and why synthetic user testing might be the most polite way to avoid talking to actual customers.This Week's TakeawaysOwn the problem from the customer all the way down. When something is blocked, it's still yours until it moves.When an outcome surprises you in either direction, ask whether your model was wrong. Most teams take the win and move on. The ones that improve don't.Before reaching for a technical solution, ask why five times. The problem someone walks in with is usually the invitation to a conversation, not the actual problem.If this episode got you thinking, we'd love to hear from you. Drop us a note at feedback@definitelymaybeagile.com or leave a review on your podcast app. And if you know someone navigating AI adoption right now, send this one their way.

Ow.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Joining Robert Pilot, Kahomy Weston and Kayla Pollard of Owámniyomni Okhódayapi March 21, to celebrate the Spring Equinox and a new engagement space on the riverfront.Arvina Martin consultant! The post Native Roots Radio – March 17, 2026 first appeared on AM 950.

So many people on meth! Ow!!!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

OK, guys, we gotta rap some Pokémon.You just do the singing. I'll take care of the hard part.Let's get it on!I want to be the bestthere ever was.To beat all the rest, yeah,that's my cause.Electrode, Diglett, Nidoran, MankeyVenusaur, Rattata, Fearow, PidgeySeaking, Jolteon, Dragonite, GastlyPonyta, Vaporeon, Poliwrath, ButterfreeCatch 'em, catch 'em, gotta catch 'em all,Pokémon!I'll search across the land,look far and wide.Release from my handthe power that's inside.Venomoth, Poliwag, Nidorino, GolduckIvysaur, Grimer, Victreebel, MoltresNidoking, Farfetch'd, Abra, JigglypuffKingler, Rhyhorn, Clefable, WigglytuffCatch 'em, catch 'em, gotta catch 'em all,Gotta catch 'em all, Pokémon!Zubat, Primeape, Meowth, OnixGeodude, Rapidash, Magneton, SnorlaxGengar, Tangela, Goldeen, SpearowWeezing, Seel, Gyarados, SlowbroGotta catch 'em all, gotta catch 'em all, yeah!Gotta catch 'em all, gotta catch 'em all, yeah!Gotta catch 'em all, Pokémon! Ow!Kabuto, Persian, Paras, HorseaRaticate, Magnemite, Kadabra, WeepinbellDitto, Cloyster, Caterpie, SandshrewBulbasaur, Charmander, Golem, PikachuAt least 150 or more to see.To be a Pokémon Master is my destiny.Alakazam, Doduo, Venonat, MachokeKangaskhan, Hypno, Electabuzz, FlareonBlastoise, Poliwhirl, Oddish, DrowzeeRaichu, Nidoqueen, Bellsprout, StarmieWoo! We're at the halfway point, doing great so far.We? What's all this "we" stuff? I'm doing all the hard work!Breaktime's over, here we go!Metapod, Marowak, Kakuna, ClefairyDodrio, Seadra, Vileplume, KrabbyLickitung, Tauros, Weedle, NidoranMachop, Shellder, Porygon, HitmonchanGotta catch 'em all, gotta catch 'em all, yeah!Gotta catch 'em all, gotta catch 'em all, yeah!Articuno, Jynx, Nidorina, BeedrillHaunter, Squirtle, Chansey (Pokémon!)Parasect, Exeggcute, Muk, DewgongPidgeotto, Lapras, Vulpix, RhydonAt least 150 or more to see.To be a Pokémon Master is my destiny.Charizard, Machamp, Pinsir, KoffingDugtrio, Golbat, Staryu, MagikarpNinetales, Ekans, OmastarScyther, Tentacool, Dragonair, MagmarWhoa, catch your breath man. Shake out those lips.It's downhill from here, just 24 more to go.Now it gets tricky, so listen real good!Sandslash, Hitmonlee, Psyduck, ArcanineEevee, Exeggutor, Kabutops, ZapdosDratini, Growlithe, Mr. Mime, CuboneGraveler, Voltorb, Gloom - We're almost home!Gotta catch 'em all, gotta catch 'em all, yeow!Gotta catch 'em all, gotta catch 'em all, huhh!Gotta catch 'em all, Pokémon! (yeeaahh!!)Charmeleon, WartortleMewtwo, Tentacruel, AerodactylOmanyte, SlowpokePidgeot, Arbok - That's all, folks!Catch 'em, catch 'em, gotta catch 'em all (oowww)Gotta catch 'em all, PokémonCatch 'em, catch 'em, gotta catch 'em all (oowww)Gotta catch 'em all, PokémonCatch 'em, catch 'em, gotta catch 'em allGotta catch 'em all... Pokémon!Best BooksInfernal Hulk #4Iron Man #2Book BlurbsHistory of the DC Universe The Dakota Incident, Rogue #2, The Punisher #1, Absolute Wonder Woman #17, Inglorious X- ForceB SegmentPokemon Winds and Waves has been announced! And there was much rejoicing!Uncle's One More ThingTrails in the Sky First Chapter RemakeThe Mighty Ducks (but probably not the one you are thinking)

Welcome all you punks and punkettes, to this week's entry in “Cuz I Wanna (and You're Gonna Like It)”! This week, we are both rocking and/or rolling! Yes! We will rock out with our socks out! Anarchy within reasonable limits! Oo! We're discussing perhaps the greatest movie ever to star both The Ramones and Clint Howard! Woo! Down with the establishment! We're somewhat miffed at multiple authority figures! Hey, Mike! Watch me punk out! I'm going to set this glass on the table . . . WITHOUT a coaster! I'm out of control! You can't stop me; don't even try! Gamble Grimble Hey! Woo again! See, I'm making sure that this picture is hanging CROOKED! Oh god, I've become more animal than man! C'mon, let's slam-dance! Yes . . . OW! Ow, ow, ow, my shoulder, ow, ow my hip! Ow ow OH NO! I've overturned the potpourri dish! Oh lord, all societal norms are collapsing! I'm feeling the urge to use harsh language to politely criticize the architects our current political structure! It's too late for me! Run! Listen to our episode and save yourselves! Punk rock for a reasonable length of time! Poll question: what band or musician who hasn't made a movie would you like to see in a non-concert movie?

Imagine a world...a world without New Order. Or Mariah Carey. Or Wu-Tang Clan. Or Iron Maiden. Or P!nk. or (big gasp!) INXS. THE HORROR. Well, all of these phenomenal artists, AND MORE, are either finally or once again nominated for music's highest career honor...the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. And, as is the Sherman and Ski custom, we've got some capital O-pinions. When the nominations dropped this week, quite literally so did our jaws as this grouping is one of the most diverse and PACKED set of artists they've ever thrown together. Neither of us think there's any complete shoo-ins, and neither of us had ever realized that Angry Man legend PHIL COLLINS wasn't already inducted as a solo artist. (Billy, they Lost His Number?). So sit back, pour yourself a tall one and a short one, and listen as Sherman and Ski debate the new nominees. Also, hear Sherman enter the all time INXS rant, out of the sheer joy of his favorite band finally receiving industry recognition. It's What You Need. Also, people said we'd never get over our Phil Collins obsession, but take a look at us now. ENJOY and remember, the two of us are usually right about things, so it's past time for Billy Idol to make it in...Staaaaaart agaaaaaain! Ow.

"Ow, my butt!" - Cinematic Reviews swings into the first Spider-Man film in the MCU to take on the Vulture

The night is young, the mood is mellow, and there's music in our ears ... namely, the 1980 postpunk gem "Is Vic There" by Department S. We discuss the enigmatic lyrics and the surrounding lore of this everdark tune. There's also a version by Trolleybox, a surprising appearance of Clan of Xymox on this (or any!) garage rock podcast, and a totally groovy R&B rendition by Curtis Baker and the Bravehearts. Ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-awoo!

This pivotal short section depicts one of the iconic episodes of Austerlitz, namely retreating Russian forces falling through ice amidst an artillery barrage.French General Adolphe Marbot provided a contemporary report on this phenomenon and Czar Alexander appears to have relayed to his inner circle, years later in 1814, that he watched helplessly as thousands of his men perish in the frozen waters. A large number is realistic given accepted casualty figures. Estimates of allied losses indicate 12,000 Russians and 4,000 Austrians dead or wounded and 12,000 captured.  French losses were around 1,400 killed and 7,000 injured.  For nearly a century, which covers the period Tolstoy was writing, it was accepted that thousands perished in this dramatic way. However, academic scrutiny on the episode gained steam in 1902 when Oxford historian Reginald L. Poole published an influential article in The English Historical Review. Poole notes that accounts of the weather in the local Oberamtmann newspaper for early December 1805 indicate the ice was relatively thin, so Poole suggests a vast army retreat would not have been realistic. Nevertheless, a report of relatively thin ice is...relative...and the weather was naturally subject to getting colder from publication. Poole also notes that French engineers drained some of the waters within a few days of the battle, whereupon they discovered 30 cannons and the remains of 150 horses but only three people. Still there are few specifics on the actual draining.  While there remains a great deal of mystery surrounding the event, cannon balls assuredly pierced the ice, leading to a grand spectacle.Tolstoy puts the fictional Fedor Dolokhov in this mix of the columns retreating in the southern portion of the field after the fight was lost at all points.  Dolokhov is among a group crowding around an escape route by a dam and the attendant waters near the Village of Augesd (Awg-est or Ow-gest), which was reachable by cannon fire from the Pratzen Heights.  It was within the rules of engagement to fire at such retreating soldiers, provided it was done at active combatants and not those surrendering or too injured to pose a threat. Tolstoy makes a critical contrast, remarking how this area only knew peace for generations. On the quant dam, which also served as a bridge, an old miller would ordinarily sit in his tasseled cap fishing with his grandson nearby while locals steered their two-horse carts back and forth with goods. On December 2, 1805, however, terrified men crowded together, nearly crushing one another amidst an artillery barrage. Many were struck down like bowling pins. At intervals, they took fire and some went down while others were forced to step over the dead. It was something of a macabre carnival game. Dolokhov is a character men & women love and actors would love to play. Youthful, masculine, handsome, with a dark and wild side. Not wealthy and of privilege like the plentiful assembly of aristocrats Tolstoy crafts, Dolokhov still reflects a side of Tolstoy as in the author's younger days he was quite the debauched gambler.  Dolokhov had been wounded and imbued with survival instincts. He was escaping with some ten men of his company, representing all that was left of it.  His contingent got stymied at an approach because a dead horse had to be dragged out of the narrow path.Soon enough, a cannon ball takes someone out behind Dolokov and another fell in front of him, so Dolokhov was splashed with blood.  He is desperate. Each of these men thought, “If we get a hundred yards further and we are saved, but shall we remain here another two minutes….it is certain death.” Dolokhov frees himself, leaves the edge of the dam and runs onto the ice. Come this way!” he beckons, jumping about the ice which creaked under him. “It bears!” The ice swayed and it was plain that it would give way under his weight alone. The men hesitated in stepping onto the ice, but realized they had no choice.A nearby general on horseback tried to say something but was quickly taken out and it was an ugly death. Seeing their leader fall, the men realized they had to try and ran onto that ice. So they went, running and sliding away from danger.  Very soon, the ice gave way. First under one man, then another, and on and on.    Cries of horror were heard as a group went down in a great mass and struggled in the freezing water. Tolstoy puts a number as forty men, which is well within reason. As the chapter ends, cannon balls continue to pound the ice.

Giannina the Cat Giannina the cat lived in a house with a garden. The garden wall bordered a park where children gathered to play. The town was small but charming — from the windowsills of the houses, pots of geraniums and petunias tumbled down like colorful cascades. Her owner, Signora Mafalda, often took her around the town center. All the children knew her, and whenever they spotted her, they would run over and shower her with affection. Giannina was quite the little rascal. During the day she loved chasing lizards, hunting insects, butterflies, and anything that moved. To rest, she would stretch out in the sun on the warm stones, then cool off among the blades of grass. In the garden, among the pomegranate tree, the lemon tree, and the olive with its silvery leaves, she and Mafalda spent their afternoons playing together. But one day, Mafalda began to notice something strange. Giannina would leap to catch her prey, but she kept missing and ending up in the rose bushes. "Ow, ow, ow! I've pricked myself and my tail is tangled in the branches!" she meowed. She barely managed to dodge trees she used to climb with ease. She reached her food and water bowls with an uncertain gait. Worried, Mafalda took her to the Veterinarian. After listening to the little cat's strange adventures, the Doctor smiled and delivered his verdict with a wise air: "This little kitty can't see well. She needs glasses." No sooner said than done — in the blink of an eye, the veterinarian searched through a display case full of frames for pets and, finding the perfect one, exclaimed: "Here we are — a pair of glasses fit for an elegant lady!" As soon as they were placed on Giannina's sweet little snout, the cat looked around in wonder. She could see everything so clearly! She rubbed against the Veterinarian's legs and leaped into Mafalda's arms as if to thank her. The Doctor, touched by her sweetness, gave her a special gift: a golden chain with a small pearl at its center that glowed with its own light. Whispering, he told her: "If you close your eyes and touch this pearl with your little nose, you will gain magical powers that only you will have. They will help you help others." Giannina thought that perhaps this Veterinarian was also a Wizard, but she said nothing to Mafalda. It was a secret between her and the strange Doctor. On the way home, people turned to look at her, thinking: that cat seems mysterious — there's something glimmering around her. At home, Giannina's first wish was to climb onto a chair and gaze out the window. The flowers shone in their colors, and even the grass was a brilliant green, as if covered in dew. She smiled, happier than ever. Mafalda, sharing in her joy, decided to take her to the park. They arrived in no time. Squirrels scampered through the trees, birds sang as they flew from branch to branch. Small creatures popped out everywhere, and the children followed them with curiosity — they ran alongside the lizards, leaped with the butterflies dancing in the air, while red ladybugs landed on their skin like good luck charms. After chases, slides, and ring-around-the-rosy, the children sat down on the grass for their snack. From their colorful backpacks came tasty treats. That's when they arrived. "Vriiip! Vriiip! Vriiip!" At full speed, a platoon of ants zoomed in on rumbling mini-motorcycles. They wore shiny little helmets on their heads, round goggles over their eyes, and tiny boots on their feet. They braked sharply in front of the children, raising little clouds of dust. "Make way! We're here too!" shouted the lead ant, lifting her visor. "Can we collect the crumbs?" The children burst out laughing. "Yes, yes! Munch all the crumbs you want!" The ants parked their mini-motorcycles in a neat row, removed their helmets with theatrical gestures, and got to work carrying crumbs twice their size, singing a little marching song. In this joyful atmosphere, Giannina and Mafalda strolled along the pathways. And suddenly, as they passed, the trees bent their branches in a bow and their leaves rustled in greeting. The roses in the flower beds opened their petals and began to sing. The lizards beat their tails on the ground like drums: "Rattatatà! Rattatatà!" And the millipedes started tap dancing to the lively rhythm. "Oh my, what a wonderful commotion!" exclaimed Giannina, who was beginning to feel a mysterious aura around her. She couldn't help but think of the Wizard Veterinarian. What could these magical powers be? And what would happen if she touched the pearl with her little nose? She told Mafalda, who was carrying a book of fairy tales under her arm. They looked at each other and, understanding instantly, seized the moment. Giannina gathered the children in a circle. Some came quickly, others more shy joined in slowly. The ants too, their bellies full, put on their mini helmets again, did one last rumbling lap on their motorcycles, then climbed off and approached the group. It was the right moment. Giannina closed her eyes and touched the magic pearl with her little nose. A golden spark flashed in the air. She took the book from Mafalda's hands, opened it, and chose the tale that seemed to be waiting for her, glowing among the pages. In a gentle voice, she began to read. "Once upon a time, there was a little rabbit who lived in the woods. He kept tripping over tree roots and pebbles. At school, he made mistakes reading letters and numbers, so he didn't want to go anymore. When the teacher saw his drawings, she said: 'Well done!' His mom and dad said the same: 'Well done!' But to him, the colors seemed faded. The truth was, he couldn't see well, but instead of saying so, he would run away and hide in a burrow beneath a talking tree. And the tree, with the rustle of its leaves, whispered a secret: talk to your parents. So he did, and they helped him get glasses. And the world became beautiful again." Giannina closed the book. She understood: with the magic pearl, she could read the hearts of children, discovering emotions and secrets waiting to be brought to light. "You know," she said to her little listeners, "not long ago, I couldn't see well either. But I put on these glasses and poof! The world became clearer and more beautiful." A boy approached her, almost embarrassed, and whispered in her ear: "Maybe I need them too, like you." Giannina gently stroked him. "I helped you open your heart. Now talk to your parents, and everything will be fine." Just then, a little rabbit appeared suddenly from the bushes. He came up to Giannina, hugged her, and said: "You are magically magical!" And — you won't believe it — that little rabbit was wearing a lovely pair of colorful glasses. From that day on, Giannina took the children of the town by the paw, teaching them to believe in themselves and to have confidence. She became the mascot with the magic glasses, and everyone wanted to wear them just like her. But the true wonder was how she now saw the world from her window: brighter, more colorful, more alive. And every evening, before falling asleep, she would touch the pearl with her little nose and smile, knowing that the next day she would help someone else see the world with new eyes. It almost seemed like it had been a dream. But as we know, reality and fantasy often walk hand in hand. _— Written by Lucia & Marco Ciappelli_ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Giannina the CatGiannina the cat lived in a house with a garden. The garden wall bordered a park where children gathered to play. The town was small but charming — from the windowsills of the houses, pots of geraniums and petunias tumbled down like colorful cascades.Her owner, Signora Mafalda, often took her around the town center. All the children knew her, and whenever they spotted her, they would run over and shower her with affection.Giannina was quite the little rascal. During the day she loved chasing lizards, hunting insects, butterflies, and anything that moved. To rest, she would stretch out in the sun on the warm stones, then cool off among the blades of grass. In the garden, among the pomegranate tree, the lemon tree, and the olive with its silvery leaves, she and Mafalda spent their afternoons playing together.But one day, Mafalda began to notice something strange. Giannina would leap to catch her prey, but she kept missing and ending up in the rose bushes. "Ow, ow, ow! I've pricked myself and my tail is tangled in the branches!" she meowed. She barely managed to dodge trees she used to climb with ease. She reached her food and water bowls with an uncertain gait.Worried, Mafalda took her to the Veterinarian.After listening to the little cat's strange adventures, the Doctor smiled and delivered his verdict with a wise air: "This little kitty can't see well. She needs glasses."No sooner said than done — in the blink of an eye, the veterinarian searched through a display case full of frames for pets and, finding the perfect one, exclaimed: "Here we are — a pair of glasses fit for an elegant lady!"As soon as they were placed on Giannina's sweet little snout, the cat looked around in wonder. She could see everything so clearly! She rubbed against the Veterinarian's legs and leaped into Mafalda's arms as if to thank her.The Doctor, touched by her sweetness, gave her a special gift: a golden chain with a small pearl at its center that glowed with its own light. Whispering, he told her: "If you close your eyes and touch this pearl with your little nose, you will gain magical powers that only you will have. They will help you help others."Giannina thought that perhaps this Veterinarian was also a Wizard, but she said nothing to Mafalda. It was a secret between her and the strange Doctor.On the way home, people turned to look at her, thinking: that cat seems mysterious — there's something glimmering around her.At home, Giannina's first wish was to climb onto a chair and gaze out the window. The flowers shone in their colors, and even the grass was a brilliant green, as if covered in dew. She smiled, happier than ever.Mafalda, sharing in her joy, decided to take her to the park.They arrived in no time. Squirrels scampered through the trees, birds sang as they flew from branch to branch. Small creatures popped out everywhere, and the children followed them with curiosity — they ran alongside the lizards, leaped with the butterflies dancing in the air, while red ladybugs landed on their skin like good luck charms.After chases, slides, and ring-around-the-rosy, the children sat down on the grass for their snack. From their colorful backpacks came tasty treats.That's when they arrived."Vriiip! Vriiip! Vriiip!"At full speed, a platoon of ants zoomed in on rumbling mini-motorcycles. They wore shiny little helmets on their heads, round goggles over their eyes, and tiny boots on their feet. They braked sharply in front of the children, raising little clouds of dust."Make way! We're here too!" shouted the lead ant, lifting her visor. "Can we collect the crumbs?"The children burst out laughing. "Yes, yes! Munch all the crumbs you want!"The ants parked their mini-motorcycles in a neat row, removed their helmets with theatrical gestures, and got to work carrying crumbs twice their size, singing a little marching song.In this joyful atmosphere, Giannina and Mafalda strolled along the pathways. And suddenly, as they passed, the trees bent their branches in a bow and their leaves rustled in greeting. The roses in the flower beds opened their petals and began to sing. The lizards beat their tails on the ground like drums: "Rattatatà! Rattatatà!" And the millipedes started tap dancing to the lively rhythm."Oh my, what a wonderful commotion!" exclaimed Giannina, who was beginning to feel a mysterious aura around her.She couldn't help but think of the Wizard Veterinarian. What could these magical powers be? And what would happen if she touched the pearl with her little nose?She told Mafalda, who was carrying a book of fairy tales under her arm. They looked at each other and, understanding instantly, seized the moment.Giannina gathered the children in a circle. Some came quickly, others more shy joined in slowly. The ants too, their bellies full, put on their mini helmets again, did one last rumbling lap on their motorcycles, then climbed off and approached the group.It was the right moment.Giannina closed her eyes and touched the magic pearl with her little nose. A golden spark flashed in the air. She took the book from Mafalda's hands, opened it, and chose the tale that seemed to be waiting for her, glowing among the pages.In a gentle voice, she began to read."Once upon a time, there was a little rabbit who lived in the woods. He kept tripping over tree roots and pebbles. At school, he made mistakes reading letters and numbers, so he didn't want to go anymore. When the teacher saw his drawings, she said: 'Well done!' His mom and dad said the same: 'Well done!' But to him, the colors seemed faded. The truth was, he couldn't see well, but instead of saying so, he would run away and hide in a burrow beneath a talking tree. And the tree, with the rustle of its leaves, whispered a secret: talk to your parents. So he did, and they helped him get glasses. And the world became beautiful again."Giannina closed the book. She understood: with the magic pearl, she could read the hearts of children, discovering emotions and secrets waiting to be brought to light."You know," she said to her little listeners, "not long ago, I couldn't see well either. But I put on these glasses and poof! The world became clearer and more beautiful."A boy approached her, almost embarrassed, and whispered in her ear: "Maybe I need them too, like you."Giannina gently stroked him. "I helped you open your heart. Now talk to your parents, and everything will be fine."Just then, a little rabbit appeared suddenly from the bushes. He came up to Giannina, hugged her, and said: "You are magically magical!"And — you won't believe it — that little rabbit was wearing a lovely pair of colorful glasses.From that day on, Giannina took the children of the town by the paw, teaching them to believe in themselves and to have confidence. She became the mascot with the magic glasses, and everyone wanted to wear them just like her.But the true wonder was how she now saw the world from her window: brighter, more colorful, more alive. And every evening, before falling asleep, she would touch the pearl with her little nose and smile, knowing that the next day she would help someone else see the world with new eyes.It almost seemed like it had been a dream. But as we know, reality and fantasy often walk hand in hand.— Written by Lucia & Marco Ciappelli Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian and English.The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!If you like it, make sure to tell your friends, family, and teachers, and subscribe to this podcast to stay updated. You'll be able to read or listen to new stories as soon as they become available. Visit us On The Official Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/ Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

OW! What is the most disgusting, awful thing you've ever had in your eye? We inquired, and wow, you certainly delivered.The fun continues on our social media pages!Jeremy, Katy & Josh Facebook: CLICK HERE Jeremy, Katy & Josh Instagram: CLICK HERE

A medical episode! Duh. Ow. My face. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

A medical episode! Duh. Ow. My face. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Miracle On Route 34: Part 1 Ginny gets a wonderful Christmas surprise. Based on a post by BiscuitHammer, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Author's Notes: Someone asked me to write a funny and erotic Christmas tale, but since I can't be normal, it is taking on a radical twist that I hope people will find amusing. I've tried to make Santa awesome but also give him some flaws that the ladies will find both charming and irksome all at once. I wasn't going to call it anything lame like 'Here Cums Santa Claus' (in spite of my love of Elvis) so I eventually settled on ripping off a classic and beloved Christmas movie, naming it 'Miracle On Rural Road 34'. Couldn't help myself with the 'Yes, Virginia' quip, of course. As for Superman, Oatmeal and the Easter Bunny, well, get used to more groaners like that, because I like them. Merry ho-ho and keep your stick on the ice! , Management Chapter 1. Ginny Hale sighed forlornly as she sat on her chesterfield in the dim room, the only light provided by the crackling fireplace and some scented candles spread around to make the house smell like gingerbread. She'd made gingerbread cookies earlier, but they were predictably burnt and now her kitchen smelled like a Christmas elf's ass. She took another sip of red wine from her oversized glass, unable to decide who or what to be mad at, the weather, for bringing this god-awful blizzard on Christmas Eve, her so-called friends for ditching her after she'd gone to all this work to put together a nice party, or herself for going crazy and buying this (admittedly nice) chateau way out here in the boondocks. Still relatively new to her negotiator position, Ginny had landed a huge deal for the company she worked for and the payout bonus was one of the biggest ever seen in-house. Though she had an office, she had often worked from her cramped apartment downtown, where a glorious chaos only she understood reigned. But the payout had been large enough for her to purchase a very pretty home in the country, not more than ninety minutes from work. Her boss was so pleased with the deal that he said she only had to come in once a week, to pick up whatever she needed to work on. It had seemed like a great idea at the time, but now she found she was quite lonely. Few people were will to put forth the effort to come out and visit her. In fact, only three had since the summer when she bought it. Hell, even her boy-toy, Chad from Accounting, could not be bothered and was now just fucking Lily in the secretary pool instead. Bing Crosby was singing 'White Christmas' to her while she moped. The big bay windows to her back porch showed the fury of the storm outside. Driving snow had been battering the countryside for two days now and her boss had called her to just stay safe and not try to come into the city. He was a nice old man and she liked him. He'd actually taken a chance and given her the job, after she'd fucked him. She hadn't invited him to her little soiree, because his miserable old bat of a wife was hovering around him constantly these days, certain he'd been tipping on her. But even without Old Man Reese, she'd invited upward of twenty people and none of them had shown. Not even Claire, her best supposed friend, had made it out. She was probably too busy being pinned and screwed by her boyfriend anyway, Guido or Nunzio or whatever his name was. Dean Martin came on, singing 'Marshmallow World'. Normally this was one of her favorites, but tonight it just reminded her that she was alone for Christmas. Again. With another sigh, she drank the rest of the wine in her glass and reached for the bottle, turning it over. It was empty. Damn. She'd have to open another one. She walked slowly into the kitchen, wearing her ratty old fox-themed footie pajamas, having decided that if she didn't have to dress up for anyone, she was dressing at all. She took a deep drink of spiked egg nog from the jug of it she'd prepared while she found another bottle of zinfandel and burped very loudly. She wrestled the cork off of the bottle and poured most of the contents into her oversized glass, muttering that she didn't have to answer to anyone about what she did, she was a big girl. She slumped back down on the couch while John Lennon asked her what she'd done for Christmas from the stereo system. "Up yours, John;" she said testily as she drank more wine. She stood unsteadily, blinking for a moment to try and clear her head. She might have had a bit of a wine fog going on, since she'd nearly polished off two bottles of Old Vine Zinfandel in under two hours. Convincing herself that walking was not a bad idea, she tottered over to the bay windows, reaching a hand out in front of herself to make sure it encountered the glass before her face did. "Will you look at that shit out there;" she muttered to no one in particular. After all, there was no one around to hear her. Well, almost no one. "Hi, Oatmeal," she said sweetly, grinning lopsidedly at the bearded dragon that sat in a terrarium near the bay doors. "Looks like you're my Christmas date; again;" The tiny lizard said nothing but assumed a darker shade of purplish brown. "Same to you too, bugface." Ginny muttered sourly, annoyed at being spurned by a reptile with a brain smaller than a sugared peanut. She lumbered back to the kitchen, trying unsuccessfully to eat several pieces of the Turkish Delight she'd tried to make, but they were sticky and runny, most of the reddish-pink mess ending up stuck to the front of her pajamas. "Son of a fucking reindeer!" she spat, attempting to remove the pajamas, her sticky fingers having trouble with the zipper. She finally kicked the thing off and left it in a corner of the kitchen, now wearing nothing except her panties and a halter top. She stomped back into the spacious living room, thoroughly annoyed. While the music played, she looked around for something to do, taking another pull from the egg nog jug she'd brought with her. The hot tub. It sat near the bay windows, set into the floor and was large enough for five or six people. She'd been hoping that maybe a few people of the dozens she'd invited would show and maybe they could have a fun pool party. She'd even told everyone in the invitations to bring their swimsuits. But of course, no one showed. She was beginning to suspect she could live in Buckingham Fucking Palace and still no one would come to see her. This was, literally, the fifth Christmas she'd spent by herself. The timing for friends never worked out and her parents were always off in Monaco or some such place, avoiding the weather. Her mom had already called earlier that night, so she wouldn't hear any more from them for a few days now. She sighed yet again and pulled off her underthings, stepping into the water. She was drunker than she wanted to admit, though, missing her footing, squealing and tumbling into the tub with a splash. Ginny came to the surface, sputtering and hissing in outrage. Why couldn't anything work out? Oatmeal just stared at her impassively. "You win this time, gravity;" she growled, displeased with her inelegant entrance. Well, at least she'd been smart enough to put down the jug of nog before trying to get in. She turned on the jets and retrieved her beverage, taking another big pull as the tub rumbled to life. Ginny laid back her head against one of the padded rests and tried to relax, to let her frustrations go. She turned on the jets and allowed one to massage her lower back while sipping at a glass of wine. She tried to put the frustrations of the holiday behind her, to let go of the feelings of rejection and somehow not belonging. "Why did I but this new fucking home if no one was interested in visiting? Everyone said they thought it was so great, but months later, still no visitors. Do I really not matter that much?" It annoyed her to think not only that she was alone, but that doubtless most of the people who had ditched her were at home getting laid. Claire was doubtless face down and ass up on her bed, getting plowed from behind by Guido. Even Mr. Reese, the old geezer, was probably getting some, either from his wife or maybe one of his secretaries. She sighed heavily and sat up, putting her now-empty wine glass aside and deciding that just because she was alone on Christmas Eve didn't mean she wasn't owed at least one good orgasm. She leaned forward and rested her forearms on the padded edge of the hot tub, positioning herself so that one of her jets, the one she'd named 'Juan', was right behind her. She felt the flow of water begin to caress her and she rested her head on her forearms as she wiggled further back, feeling the jet more strongly now as it pushed against her ass and her cunt. With a sigh, she found the perfect distance and pressed her face down into her arms, letting Juan work his magic. Water pressure massaged her cunt lips, strong enough to part them and to tease her clit, sending thrills through her. She shuddered and sighed loudly, forgetting, for now, how much men sucked. She bit the knuckle of her index finger, lost in reverie. God, if only it were a man fucking her. "Alone; on fucking Christmas; where's, ah!, where's the justice in that?" She was sweating now and panting as the relentless jets battered her nether tinglies, the sensations overwhelming her steadily. She clenched her teeth and her fists, straining as she fought to hold on a little longer. She moaned very loudly, her whole body shaking as Juan delivered a wonderful orgasm. She panted and groaned shamelessly, knowing that no one was around to see her in her pent-up, frustrated lust, expending it on her Jacuzzi jets. The scintillating lights behind her eyes, however, were over all too quickly and the climax subsided, replaced by a juddering sensitivity that made Juan's caress too much to bear. She collapsed against the edge of the hot tub, moving her ass away from the jet. "Alone; again;" She may have needed the orgasm, but it did nothing to improve her mood. It didn't help that the song 'This Christmas' by Shoes had begun playing as the cumming ended. When it finally felt like her legs would work again, she turned around and slumped into a corner of the tub, as far from Juan as possible. Ginny stayed still for some time, until her feet and fingers felt that annoying level of pruny that made everything awful to touch. With the heat of the water and all the alcohol she'd drunk, she was feeling rather light-headed, so she turned off the stereo and shut off the lights. She found a plate of her fucked-up and burnt gingerbread cookies and left them on a table near the fireplace along with the jug of nog before beginning to head upstairs to bed. "Yeah. Fuck this day. And fuck tomorrow too. Maybe if I stay drunk enough it'll just fly by. Fuck Christmas." The second floor was an open space in the middle, looking down onto the main floor. A set of stairs led up on either side and the bedrooms were spaced around the gallery. She'd loved the design when she bought it, but this only increased her frustration when no one ever came to visit. "Gorgeous fucking house; ten acres of beautiful nature filled with deer and ugly-ass wild turkeys; a fucking pond people could skate on; shit, I even found a patch of landrace back there! What's not to love about my new home? Why aren't people shitting themselves in jealousy?" She reached the master bedroom, sighing at how big it felt since she had no one to share it with. She stood in front of the mirror, looking at her naked body and sighing. She was trim and fit, with nicely-sized boobs, she kept her cunt shaved smooth and her full lips were simply made to suck cock. Her skin was fair and even and her dark brown hair was long enough to pull on if you were fucking her ass or taking her from behind. So what the hell was wrong? The bed was certainly big enough for two (or maybe her and two guys who didn't mind getting close), but she plunked herself down into it and stared at the ceiling, waiting for the room to stop drunk-spinning. It took longer than she wanted it to, but things finally slowed down an she breathed deeply. She reached over with her hand and fumbled around inside the drawer of the nightstand. She finally withdrew an elegant glass dildo, a barely opaque white with bright red stripes curling around it to simulate a candy cane. It had been a Christmas gift from Claire, who had jokingly given it to her until she found a man for herself. That bitch. "Well, Frosty," she sighed, examining him. "Looks like it's you and me tomorrow. I promise to not get out of bed except to go to the bathroom or get more booze, okay? Because I'm here for you;" And with that she kissed the dildo and put it aside. She turned out her lamp and sighed deeply as she lay in the dark, waiting for sleep to take her. "Fuck Christmas;" A noise from downstairs. Her eyes snapped open. She was sure she'd heard something. Her heart pounded in her chest. She took deep breaths to try and calm herself, reasoning that she'd been drunk and it might just be hangover noises. Maybe just something like branches scraping on the roof or across the walls? Ginny felt a flush of anger and slowly rose, getting out of bed and putting on a plush yellow robe. There were definitely sounds downstairs. She grabbed her rape whistle and her high-school field hockey stick off the wall before quietly opening the door and proceeding out of the room. Her cheeks flushed with fear and anger. How dare someone invade her house? And in this fucking weather! "Burglars? Ruffians? Escaped cons?" "Well, at least if they see you they might have their way with you and break your dry spell." She shook the vile notion from her head, wondering where the hell that'd come from. Could she be that desperate to get laid? Ginny walked as quietly as she could, hearing noises on the roof. Raccoons? Looking to get in from the cold? Fucking trash pandas. She rounded the corner of the gallery and put her foot on the top step, her hockey stick ready. She crept down the stairs, still hearing the noises. They seemed to be coming from her living room. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to identify anything that might be amiss. Then she saw him, a symphony of red trimmed in white, the huge ass swaying back and forth as the intruder was bent over her at the base of her Christmas tree, doing God only knows what to it. He seemed to be humming to himself. She walked up silently until she was maybe ten feet away from him, her hockey stick over her shoulder, ready to swing. He didn't hear her or took no notice of her. "I don't want to hurt you," she growled through clenched teeth. "But you'd best get the fuck out of my house or I'll hit you so hard Google won't be able to find you." The person in red paused in their activities and then stood up slowly. After another moment's pause, they stood up and turned around slowly. He was slightly taller than average and quite a bit fatter than societal norms allowed. He had a fat face with dancing blue eyes and red cheeks. Beneath the tapered red hat was long, silvery-white hair and a very full beard and moustache. The intruder looked at her and grinned. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" he asked with a voice that could only be described as jolly. Ginny said nothing. She seemed to be rooted to the spot. She wanted to say something, anything, but she seemed to have been robbed of the power of speech. "W, who;" she finally managed to stammer. "Yes, Virginia," the visitor said quietly but pleasantly in a soothing voice. "There really is a Santa Claus." She blinked and shook her head, trying to articulate a coherent thought. The big man in red chuckled, clearly amused by her predicament. "Your egg nog was very good," he mentioned as he walked forward a little. "Your cookies needed a little work, but I appreciate the effort. Maybe a cookbook next year?" "Stay still!" she snapped, suddenly coming out of her stupor and holding the hockey stick behind her head as if she was winding up for a hit. "I'll deck you, old man!" "Oh, there's no need for that," he said cheerfully, totally unconcerned by her threat. "It's been a rough year for you, hasn't it, Ginny?" "Why do you know my name?" she asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Of course I know it," the man claiming to be Santa said jovially. "I'd be pretty lousy at my job if I didn't, right?" "If you're really Santa," she said tightly, still not understanding why she hadn't knocked this guy's head off his shoulders yet. "Then what was I doing the night of October seventeenth last year?" He tilted his head to the side a little and pursed his lips. "Are you sure?" "C'mon, you haven't got all day." "Very well," he said, sighing. "You were sitting in McPhearson's Pub, waiting vainly for Greg from IT to show up, because you'd given him a blowjob in the bathroom earlier that day and promised him more. But he went off with Becky from Accounts that night instead of meeting up with you." She blushed furiously at the memory. "I; that wasn't the day I meant! I meant the sixteenth!" He shrugged. "You had the day off and were really frustrated. You slid a condom over that very field hockey stick and used it on yourself, just to see what it was like." Ginny dropped the stick very suddenly. "How the hell do you know that, you perv?" The man shrugged. "I know all about you, Ginny. And every other boy and girl in the world" "Don't give me that horseshit!" she hissed, glaring at him. "I had too many Christmases where I didn't get what I want to buy into that cockamamie story!" "Well, you weren't exactly the most exemplary child, were you?" he reasoned. "I mean, you weren't horrible, it's not like you were out kicking puppies into woodchippers, but you spent more time in the naughty column that the good column, didn't you?" "What did I ever do that was so naughty?" she demanded hotly, her fists bunched up at her sides. "You and your brother could get rather friendly, couldn't you?" the man calling himself Santa pointed out. She faltered for a moment. "Lots of siblings play doctor. And those atomic booty bombs where I kept jumping in the air and landing on him were just playful." "While naked?" Santa asked, raising a bushy white eyebrow. Ginny blushed. "But that wasn't what landed you on the naughty list," he added. "What got you blacklisted was that you lied about doing your homework or cleaning your room while you were messing around with your brother. Your mom and dad would ask you to do your math and you'd slip away to play doctor instead and tell them you'd finished your homework after. Lying is naughty, right?" "Woah, hold the phone here," she said loudly, holding her head as if she was suddenly dizzy from a revelation. She didn't seem to notice that her robe had opened slightly, exposing her cleavage. "Are you fucking kidding me? Fibbing to my parents kept me from getting the gifts I wanted?" "Were the rules unclear?" Santa asked. "I thought the songs on the subject were so easy to follow." Ginny pinched her eyes in exasperation and then scowled at him. "I'm drunk," she concluded, trying to convince herself none of this was real. "I'm drunker than Sarah Palin and you're not really here. I'm still in bed and this is all bullshit." Santa shrugged. "I was putting stuff under your tree until you arrived and enjoying the nog. I won't mind if you go back to bed." "No, you're not getting off that easily," she said in annoyance. "You broke into my house in the middle of the storm of the fucking century and I want answers, dammit!" He shrugged. "Fair enough. Ask away." Her eyes narrowed again. "Aren't you on kind of a time crunch? Unless I'm the last person on your delivery list, don't you still have a shit ton of houses to visit? Say, a few hundred million?" He waved it off. "I've got it covered, I promise. I have all the time in the world for you, Ginny. I always have." "What, so you sub-contract out?" she said snidely. "Got FedEx making the rounds for you? Or maybe your 'Elves'?" She mentioned the last bit with air quotes. "Goodness, this has been a bad year for you, hasn't it?" he said sympathetically. "But to answer your question, I am capable of being many places at once." "Oh, so now you're the Kwizatz-Haderach?" she asked archly. "Hey, it's not just cinnamon I put in my Christmas cider." Santa chuckled. "It's rather complicated to explain." "So do you, like, clone yourself?" she asked, her guard seeming to slowly come down. "No, not at all," he said, shaking his head. "It involves Cherenkov Radiation, a Holmes field, a Gellar field and, to quote a friend of mine, 'a lot of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey; stuff.'" "So it's some sort of deep quantum shit?" she asked, her body finally relaxing. He nodded, smiling. "Yes, it's very temporal and quantum. I can be many places at once. It's why I don't have to pay for billions in window repairs every year by going supersonic around the world." "So even while you're talking to me, you're delivering presents?" she asked, the sheer depth of the conversation hitting her now. She walked over to a stool and sat on it. "Like I said, it's difficult to explain without breaking out the chalkboard and calculator," he answered. "The magnetic lines between the poles help, especially the one that emanates from the Fortress of Solitude." Ginny blinked. "Fortress of Solitude? As in Superman? You're friends with Superman?" "Of course not!" the jolly man laughed. "There's no such thing as Superman, silly, he's a comic book character. Had you going, though." "Holy shit, Santa's a troll," she exclaimed, looking at him in bewilderment. "Well, okay, let's assume that this is all real and not a vivid hallucination resulting from a brain tumor. If I've been such a brat all these years, how do I make up for it? How do I get off the naughty girl list?" "Well, a little restraint would be a start," Santa suggested. "I'm not saying go out and become a Carthusian nun or a Buddhist priestess or anything, but you might try laying off the rampant promiscuity." "Why is that so bad?" she demanded. "What's so wrong with wanting to get banged?" "Nothing," he said simply. "But inevitably you get yourself into some kind of weird situation and end up lying your behind off and lying is a naughty thing to do. So try keeping your legs bolted together a little more." "Really;" she said, clearly not impressed. "Celibacy lessons from Santa Claus. Now I've heard everything." "According to my report here and speaking frankly, it's taken guys a lot less attractive than me a lot less effort to get you out of your clothes." Santa mentioned. "This coming from a guy who could clearly use a few P90-X sessions!" she shot back hotly, standing up, her robe opening further as she stomped toward him. He looked down at himself for a moment and guffawed. "Oh, right, I keep forgetting about that; hang on;" The man held his hands out to his sides and began to glow. The luminous display lit up the room progressively and Ginny held her hand in front of her face when it became too bright to look at for several seconds. When the light finally died away, leaving them once again in the softly lit living room, Ginny gaped in shock at what she saw. He was tall, powerfully built, with chiseled muscles, an eight pack and flawless, healthy skin. He'd removed his coat but the red pants remained, stretched tight over muscular thighs. Long, wavy, copper-colored hair fell past his shoulders and the full beard was reddish-gold. The sapphire-blue eyes stared down at her, still glittering with mirth. "Holy Jesus on a pogo stick;" she breathed, her voice little more than a whisper. "You're a total lumbersexual;" "This is what I really look like," he said, spreading his hands out to the sides and showing her his body. His chest rippled as the muscles flexed with the motion. "But kids react to the fat old man disguise better." "I'll bet mothers don't," she murmured, coming forward as if compelled and reaching out to touch his chest and washboard abs. "It's like you're Photo-shopped." He smiled as her hands caressed his abs. "You make me want to not get off the naughty list." "I think I know what you really want for Christmas;" he said slyly. Ginny paused and looked up at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding?" "No, I can't lie." the man in red pants replied. "I thought it was Superman who couldn't lie." "Well, the writers had to get that idea from somewhere, I guess." Santa mused. "In any event, if you want, you could end up on the good girl list by being rather naughty." She stared at him. "So; get laid by Santa for Christmas?" He shrugged. "There might be some other goodies in the bag for you, but I think we both know what Ginny really wants and needs for Christmas." "This is crazy, this is crazy, this is crazy!" she thought to herself, wrestling with her sensibilities. "If this is all just a dream, then I can fuck hunky Santa and have no regrets. If this is real, I can fuck sexy Santa and remember it in the morning! It's win-win!" "Well, this is super-easy," she declared. "Santa, I want you to fuck my brains out for Christmas." "With pleasure, Ginny!" he said, laughing merrily. "Whatever you like, however you want it. I have to keep the kiddies happy." "Good, but just don't say 'kiddies' anymore, because that's kinda creepy," she said, throwing her caution to the wind. She knelt down in front of him, putting her hands on the oversized silver belt buckle and undoing it. Letting it drop, she put her fingers on the front of his pants, caressing them over the crotch. Her mouth went dry. "That'd better not be a secondary present sack you're teasing me with;" Ginny hooked her fingers into the top of the velvety pants and pulled them down, revealing his cock. She drew in her breath slowly, her eyes widening. "Jesus," she muttered. "You're hung like a fat kid's Christmas stocking;" "Thanks, I make due." Santa said cheerfully, watching her admire his cock. "By the way, shouldn't I call you something else?" she asked, looking up at him while her hand reached up to take his huge shaft, wrapping around it, barely. "I mean, most people call you Santa Claus, but isn't your name Nick or Kris or something?" He shrugged again, grinning. "Nick, Kris, Klaus, Pelznickel, Joulupukki, Kanakaloka, Dun Che Lao Ren, Weihnachtsmann, Swiety Mikolaj, Hoteiosho, Jultomten, I don't mind, Ginny. I just like hearing you say my name the way you think of me." "Hmm, Santa;" she replied, smiling as she stroked her hand along his shaft, eyeing it hungrily. How the hell was she going to fit that all in her mouth, forget her aching cunt? "Ah, don't use that word," he chided, holding up a finger. "Some words are still naughty, even when you're an adult." "Stay out of my mind then, creeper." Ginny said as she leaned forward and swirled her tongue around the fat head of his cock. She flicked it around the tip and then slowly took it inside her mouth, tongue rolling against it. "The hell? How can his cock taste like mint?" "Just wait til you taste my cum." Santa said, leering. "Fine, but it better not taste like turkey gravy or we're gonna box." Ginny said as she pulled her mouth back for a moment. She pumped her hand gently along the shaft, studying her quarry intently. It was definitely the biggest cock she'd ever taken on, and the best-tasting. She'd been experiencing trippy magic all evening, maybe she could fit this monster in her mouth this one night; She put the head back in her mouth and relaxed, slowly pushing down the shaft. She moaned as she felt him slide to the back of her mouth and then to her throat. She felt him tremble and lay a huge but gentle hand on the back of her head. "Holy shit; I'm deep-throating Santa Claus;" Ginny took a deep breath through her nose and then tried to relax. Her whole body was tingling with excitement and the whole minty cock thing was throwing her off. Her tongue undulated along the underside of his shaft while the fingers of one hand formed a ring around the base of his cock and the other cupped his balls, fondling them. Ginny was proud of her cocksucking skills and if there was anyone she ever needed to impress with them (aside from her 11th Grade math teacher), it was probably Santa. She calmed herself and began pulling her mouth back along his length, humming and letting her lips vibrate softly on his sensitive skin. "Now I know why Mister Bondi gave you that A in math," Santa chuckled. "You're a very naughty girl, Virginia." "Hmm, only for you, Santa baby;" she cooed as she pulled her mouth off his cock long enough to respond, stroking slowly and swirling her tongue around the head again. She then slid back down the entire length, moaning in pleasure. She could feel her nipples getting hard and her cunt was very, very wet beneath her robe. Both his hands were on the back of her head now and holding her gently but firmly. She began to slowly bob back and forth, thrilled at how she was able to take this enormous beast of a cock all the way in her mouth. Sure, maybe there was some weird physics involved that compressed space and time or some shit, but she didn't care and he certainly didn't seem to mind. "Hmm, very good, Virginia;" he said softly, stroking her hair. No one ever called her Virginia and she didn't know why it gave her a tingle when he did. His cock was very full and very hard now, like a pulsing iron rod covered in mint-flavored velvet. She almost giggled at the thought of how crazy this all was. She really hoped it wasn't a dream. Her thumb began to squeeze along the underside of his cock as her hand followed her mouth up and down his length. The shaft glistened wetly and the mint was making her drool. She undid her robe and let it fall away, the air of the room kissing her flushed skin. Her hands now took hold of his powerful thighs and she began moving back and forth along his cock more quickly. She could feel his hands flexing in her long, dark hair, caressing her skin. Breathing through her nose, she moaned as she sucked ardently, her cunt almost aching with desire. She was hoping he would last long enough to fuck her when he went rigid suddenly and groaned, gripping her head tightly and his hips shuddering. Ginny's eyes widened as she felt him began to cum inside her mouth, spurting strongly. She began swallowing hastily, almost in a panic as Santa pumped his hips against her face. "Holy shit! Fucking eggnog?" He kept cumming and she was sure she might actually drown when he pulled his huge cock out of her mouth and pumped it furiously in his hand, spattering her tits and stomach with his glistening load. She'd never seen so much cum in her life. It tingled on her skin. Finally, Santa relaxed, allowing Ginny to put her mouth back around his cock and suck the rest of his cum from him. He was sighing and breathing rather heavily, apparently having enjoyed himself. She eventually released him and smiled up at him wickedly. "So," she cooed, winking while she gently pumped his cock with her hand. "Am I back on the good girl list?" "Oh, I'd think so," he said, grinned. "But it's not like I've given you your whole present yet." "Jeez, you can still go?" she asked almost in disbelief but also delighted. She really needed to be fucked hard now. "Your cock taste like mint, your cum tastes like nog, your ass probably tastes like hot cocoa or nutmeg and you can keep it up all night?" "Up all night is kind of my thing, at least once a year." Santa said cheerfully. "So how would you like for me to give you the rest of your present, Virginia?" "Well, golly, Santa," she mused, making a show of thinking while she stroked his cock. "Since you seem to be the gift that keeps on giving, how about we just wing it?" He nodded and she stood up, keeping hold of his cock and gently led him over to the large chesterfield, hoping it would hold his rather muscular frame. She knelt on it, resting her arms along the raised back and smiled at him, wiggling her behind. She wouldn't believe how wet her cunt was. "You gonna hurry down my chimney, Santa-baby?" she asked, smiling slyly. "I can't believe you just said that!" he laughed jovially. He may not have been older, fatter Santa, but the laugh still definitely suited him. He stepped up behind her and took gentle hold of her hips. She could feel him press against her ass and she shivered in anticipation. He slid his massive cock up and down between her ass cheeks, teasing her until she was writhing in desperation. He seemed to know instinctively what she loved most. Which only made sense, since he was Santa. "Ready, Virginia?" he asked as he pressed the huge mushroom head against her sticky cunt. She nodded eagerly, unwilling to speak. He slid the head in, parting her lips and penetrating her. She groaned loudly as he began to stretch her inner walls. With a slow, steady push of his hips, he pushed the entire length of his cock deep inside her. It robbed her of her breath, she'd never felt so full in her life, even that one time she'd been so horny she'd fucked her parent's bedpost. "Ah; uh;" she gasped, eyes wide. The sensations were like nothing she'd ever experienced. His cock completely filled her to a delightful stretch that didn't hurt except in the good way. His iron shaft throbbed in time with her heartbeat. It was wonderfully warm but also strangely cool all at once, tingling, like mint again. How the hell could her cunt taste peppermint? "Language, Virginia;" he chided again as he pressed in just a little bit further. By right his cockhead should have bruising her brainstem, but there was no doubt some weird physics shit involved that she decided not to think about. She was getting fucked by Santa, after all. She pressed her forehead against the back of the couch and tried squeezing her cunt around his titan cock or pressing back against him, squirming her ass against his hips. She shuddered in delight, loving how he felt inside her. His hands reached under her body and squeezed and massaged her tits, sending delicious thrills through her. He began to move slowly back and forth, pulling back until just the tip was inside her and pushing in steadily, almost robbing her of breath. She began to feel like a blacksmith's bellows very quickly. The feel of his cock sliding inside her, stretching her and touching deep inside in ways she hadn't known were possible; "Oh my god;" she gasped, fingers digging into the back of the couch. "You're tearing me apart and I love it;" "Only the best for my Virginia," he said, his ruddy cheeks taking on a flush tone as he fucked her. Her fingers squeezed the meat of her thighs and hips or flexed on her ass cheeks. His heavy balls slapped against her cunt as he drove inside her. Strong yet gentle, forceful and commanding yet accommodating. She felt dominated yet exalted somehow. His hand wrapped in her hair and she groaned loudly as he pulled on it, craning her neck. She shuddered in pleasure, feeling her spine almost accordion as he thrust inside while pulling her head back. Her could feel the pulse of his cock through her whole body. Her nails scratched along the couch, almost clawing it. "Uh, you're gonna make me cum so fucking hard;" she wailed, feeling the sweat forming on her skin. "Oh my gawd;" "You're going to make me cum hard too," he panted, thrusting deep inside, thumping his hips against her ass. "You feel wonderful and tight, Virginia;" "Oh, God, he's gonna cum in me;" she realized. "Santa's gonna fucking cum in me and he's not wearing anything! Will my birth control work? Shit, will my kids always smell like mint?" "Oh, God, cum in me!" she panted, thrusting herself back against him and grinding shamelessly. "Fucking cum in me, Santa!" "Ya want me to cum in you?" he hissed, his body beginning to tremble. It felt like his cock was getting bigger inside her. "Want my cum in you?" "God, yes!" Ginny squeaked, clenching her teeth. "Fucking cum in me and make me scream!" They strained against one another desperately and then she cried out as a massive orgasm crashed over her. It battered her senses as she felt his hot-yet-tingly-cool cum bathing her insides relentlessly. Her cunt was making greedy sucking sounds as she came, her whole body shuddering almost uncontrollably. She squeezed and clenched and rippled her tight tunnel round him, reveling in the way he stretched and penetrated her ever more deeply. She collapsed against the chesterfield, panting heavily, her body drenched in sweat. His massive, hard cock was still deep inside her, pinning her to him. She felt like she was made of lead, an exquisite exhaustion while pleasure crawled over her languidly. That was beyond anything she had ever experienced. But he didn't seem to be done with her. His powerful hands took hold of Ginny and turned her around so she was squatting on the couch, her knees spread wide and her arms slung across the high back. She looked up at him in weary astonishment as he nestled himself between her legs and pressed his cock against her sopping cunt again. "Ah!" she wailed as he slid deep inside her again, his huge cock splitting her wide. Her nails dug into the couch again and she clenched her teeth as she sucked in her breath. Ginny tried to regulate her breathing while Santa began sliding in and out slowly, looking down at her with those penetrating blue eyes. "Jesus," she grunted, feeling almost like a rag doll in his hands, which gripped her hips. "Gonna fucking kill me with that thing!" "Oh, let's hope not," he replied, thrusting into her strongly. "I'm nowhere near done with you." She gazed up at him, trembling as he fucked her good and hard. She bit her lip as he squeezed her thighs, before moving his hands up to squeeze her tits, pinching her nipples. She groaned shamelessly as the delicious sting electrified her senses. She tried to squeeze herself around him, baffled by how big he felt inside her. She gasped and whimpered as he slapped her cunt lightly. She reached forward and raked her nails over his powerful chest, leaving red marks along the defined muscles. She ground her hips against him wantonly, thrilling to the look of pleasure on this face. "Uh, fuckin' wreck me;" she gasped, feeling another massive climax building inside her. "Make me cum on that beautiful cock, Santa!" "I'll take 'Things Virginia Never Thought She'd Ever Hear Herself Say' for a thousand, Alex!" he laughed. He reached down and took her ass her hands and pulled her closer, smiling warmly yet wickedly into her eyes as she sank further onto his cock, which penetrated her to the deepest depths yet. She could feel the head pressing against her womb. It didn't hurt, but she felt fuller and more stretched than ever. She felt him squeeze her ass cheeks while he thrust into her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held on tight, bumping up and down on his powerful thighs. She moaned loudly and bit his shoulder, trying not to shriek. She tried to squeeze herself around him again, finding that she could barely control her muscles, let alone fuck. She bit down as the warmth spread through her, tears of pleasure in her eyes. He thumped his hips against her even more strongly and they strained against one another. Then he growled and released himself, pumping her once again full of his tingling cum. She shuddered and cried out loudly, her head spinning from the unreal ecstasy. Crushing herself to him, Ginny held on desperately, like a ship battered by an unrelenting storm. They both slumped onto the couch, breathing heavily. She felt small and almost cocooned in his embrace. She was covered in a heavy sheen of sweat and could feel the thrilling tingle of his cum trickling out of her cunt. It wouldn't be a stain on her couch, it was a mark of honor. Their hearts pounded in rhythm as the orgasm passed over them and slowly flowed away. "Holy shit;" she whispered, her body still limp in his arms. "I think you've ruined me for sex. I should be mad;" "You have to admit, it makes sense that I'm better at gift-giving than anyone else on the planet." Santa reasoned, smiling and stroking her hair while she sat in his lap. "I'd say you were a little pent up there." "Mild understatement," she moaned, finally raising her head and smiling up at him. "Thank you, first of all. That was the best thing I've ever felt in my life." "I aim to please," he said cheerfully, caressing his thumb across her cheek and enjoying the shining look in her eyes. "Kinda my thing, after all." "So," Ginny purred, walking to fingers up his broad chest. "Is there a Mrs. Claus?" He shrugged. "There has been, of course." She paused suddenly and looked up at him, her smile replaced by a deadpan look. "What do you mean, there has been?" He seemed somewhat confused by her change in demeanor. "Well, there has been a few in the past, of course, there was Seeki first, then there was Ahoop, followed by Annalina, then Layla, Martha, Juliana, Gretchen and Jessica, Santarina, Kasey, Mary;" "I see," she said stonily. "You've had more wives than Elizabeth Taylor had husbands." "Well, to be fair, they've been spread over a long period of time." Santa replied. "And they were all special to me." "So then I'm not special." Ginny said flatly. "Well of course you are," he said, not understanding her mood swing. "You're my Virginia." "And Becky down the street is your Becky, and Sarah in the blue house is your Sarah and Hilda in Dusseldorf is your Hilda," she concluded. "Everyone's equally special to you, aren't they?" He didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry, I'm not being fair," she sighed. "I just; well, I thought maybe this; ya know, tonight, was truly special. And clearly you're not good at lying." "Well, no, not at all." Santa agreed, still holding her and wondering how he could comfort her. "I can't lie." "Like, literally can't?" she asked, now curious more than anything. "It's part of your genetic makeup that you can't lie?" "No, nothing like that," he admitted. "But after spending centuries with kids and teaching them to always tell the truth, I haven't tried telling a lie in so long I don't even know how to do it." "You don't know how to lie?" she mused. "If I did, it wouldn't be the least bit believable," he said. "Like, if I said right now that your breath smells wonderful and not like old eggnog and vomit, I somehow doubt you'd believe my lie." "No shit," Ginny replied, giving him a stony look. "You're a horrible liar. You've got the subtlety of a cement truck. Good thing you're Santa and don't have to date to charm a girl." He held her close, hugging her tight to comfort her. She sighed deeply, still impaled on his hard cock, which showed no sign of abating. "God, I can't believe you've still got wood after cumming like a fire hydrant three times," she said, her mood softening. She was having the best sex of her life, she reminded herself not to ruin it by being crazy. "How long can you keep going?" He shrugged his muscular shoulders. "How long do you need me to?" "Actually, it doesn't surprise me that's your answer." Ginny said, smirking. "If you've got the time, I've got another itch that needs scratching." He grinned. "So you haven't broken in that hot tub yet, have you?" "Oh, Santa;" she purred, leaning in and biting his earlobe. "Like you don't make me wet already." He picked her up and carried her toward the Jacuzzi, deftly turning it on with his foot and bringing it rumbling to life. He stepped down into the churning water, setting her one of the seats. As he stood up, she leaned forward and hungrily took his enormous cock into her mouth, sucking ardently. She moved forward and knelt in the water, her hands on his hips again or stroking his balls. He picked her up bodily and turned her upside. Ginny squeaked in surprise at first but found his hips in front of her and began sucking again on his tool without delay. He buried his face in her cunt, tongue snaking deep inside her and she groaned gutturally, Holding her in place with one powerful hand, her teased her taint and then pressed a finger into her ass. "Jesus!" she gasped, almost choking on his cock as he wormed the finger down into her tight tunnel. "Oh, fuck! Your finger is bigger than some dicks I've fucked!" She attacked his cock again eagerly, bobbing back and forth like her life depended on it. She squirmed in his grip as he lashed her cunt with his tongue and fingered her ass. Her fingernails dug into his thighs and her knees locked around his neck. His cock throbbed in her mouth, still thrilling her with its unique and incredible taste. He turned her around again and paid her on the edge of the hot tub, spreading her legs wide. She looked on wantonly as he pushed his tongue back inside her again. He gripped her thighs to hold her in place and she groaned and squirmed, squeezing her tits and pulling on her nipples. Her breath came in ragged gasps as he drove her to the limit of her sensations. Ginny shook and thrashed as she cried out loudly, cumming on his face. He didn't let up, lapping at her essence eagerly. She lay like a dead thing for several seconds before her chest began to rise and fall. Her eyes opened, gazing back at him. She couldn't feel her limbs, just floating on a tingling ocean of deep colors. Santa looked up at her and smiled, pulling his tongue out of her cunt and kissing her clit gently. She shivered at the touch. "One hole left, Santa," she breathed, her body glistening. "Got any left in you to perfect my Christmas?" "Always for you, Virginia." Santa said warmly, standing and raising her gently into a sitting position. He settled down into the water on one of the seats and then pulled her onto his lap, facing away from him. She moved her hips around until she found his rock-hard cock, waiting for her. She placed her puckered knot against it, giggling as she thought about what he was about to do to her. She took his shaft in her hand and held it steady while she sank down, very slowly. Ginny gasped and shivered as the head pushed aside the tight ring of muscle, popping inside her. Then she sighed as she lowered herself, feeling his massive cock stretching her tight tunnel wide. God, she felt so full it was unreal. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, her ass cheeks pressed to his lap. He was all the way inside her ass and her held her closed as she settled back against him, purring in sensual pleasure. "Umm, it's never felt this good in my ass before," she said softly, her arms reaching back to curl around his neck. She gyrated slowly on his lap, moaning softly. "A gal could get used to this." His muscular arms wrapped around her and caressed Ginny's body, massaging her tits. She loved how she felt pinned to him. She had finally found the measure of her body and began to squeeze her tight ass around his cock. She squirmed in slow circles on his lap, wishing she had some music to fuck him to. Her stereo system suddenly came on and began playing 'It's Cold Outside'. She giggled and squeezed his neck gently at his thoughtfulness. "You think of everything, don't you?" she purred, lost in her pleasure. "I can't wait to make you cum again." He smiled wickedly and pulled gently on her nipples, causing her to groan at the welcome sting. She pressed her ass back into his lap, squeezing again around his throbbing shaft. The water bubbled and churned around her waist, the heat leaving her skin shining. She began to pant as she moved her hips faster, stopping the circular motions and started to move up and down, his cock sliding in and out of her. Santa took hold of her hips and let her bounce on his lap. Ginny leaned forward, gasping as she fondled her tits, overcome with a liquid heat as his cock impaled her faster and faster. Water splashed around them as the fucking took on an almost frantic pace. Ginny had never felt anything in her ass like this before, nothing even close to this good. She could very easily become an addict. "Uh, fuck!" she grunted, slamming her ass down on him while one hand snaked down and began massaging her cunt and clit. His hands steadied her and helped moved her up and down. She could feel his hips trembling beneath her, his fingers flexing and squeezing her skin. Her panting became a long, drawn-out keening. She clenched her teeth, shuddering and straining as she tried to prolong the fucking; Ginny screamed and pushed herself back against his massive chest violently, thrashing as she clenched his cock inside her ass while he came. His cream flooded inside her, the unreal hot-cool tingling transporting her. He growled in her ear, almost crushing her comparatively tiny frame against himself. She collapsed, utterly exhausted, her chest rising and falling as the world spun around her. She felt him holding her gently, caressing her body in unique ways that seemed to; regulate her blood flow and nerve sensations, making the post-orgasmic bliss she was feeling last as long as possible. She felt herself smile and hum at his consideration, understanding this this is who he was and what he was meant to do. Ginny then did something she almost never did during sex, she leaned her head back, pressed her lips to his and kissed him deeply and with great affection. She held it for as long as she could and then sank back into his embrace, sighing in contentment. "Wish you were advertising for a Mrs. Claus at the moment," she said softly. "I could get used to this." "I like things the way they are," he replied, hugging her. "Every year I get to reward you for being a good girl. What could be better than that?" "True, I guess," Ginny agreed. "I'm only human, all this sex could kill me." "Hey, I'm human too, you know," he chuckled. "Just because I'm immeasurably older than you and subject to quantum laws even my smartest elf couldn't explain doesn't mean I'm a member of some other species." "Okay, that's fair, although I'd still fuck you if you were an alien or some extra-dimensional being." Ginny admitted. "You've come in me a lot tonight, daddy. Do I need to” "No," he said cheerfully. "I'm not sterile, but you can't get pregnant unless I decide you will and I've never allowed it." "I wonder what a Santa kid would be like," she mused. "More like you or the mom?" "No idea," he confessed. "There's not exactly a manual, so I've never taken a chance." She slowly leaned forward and began to rise, shivering as she slid off his long cock and it popped out of her. She knelt and turned around to face him, not sure she could stand yet, looking up at his still hard cock and giggled, pressing her finger against the head. "Well, I think you can take him off duty, sir," she said sweetly. "I'm pretty sure that I'm all fucked out for the night, if not the whole season." He chuckled and let his cock soften, looking into her eyes and caressing his cheek. "Hopefully that was what you needed for Christmas." "Definitely, Santa." Ginny said, giggling. "Is it greedy to want the same present again next year?" "Not at all," he replied, grinning. "It cuts down on elf-labor hours if I can give people a gift mysteriously." Santa paused in speaking, going silent and looking around, as if listening for something. Neither of them touched the controls, but the motor for the jets turned off and all that could be heard was the howling roar of the winter storm outside. Ginny looked at him in confusion, wondering why his features hardened and a scowl crossed his normally jovial face. "That's no storm," he said in a low, growling voice. "Not a regular one, anyway." "What does that mean?" she asked, his reaction worrying her for reasons she couldn't readily explain. What the hell was a 'not regular' storm, according to Santa, or anyone else for that matter? He stood up and strode out of the hot tub, taking her by the hand and pulling her out with him. Their naked bodies glistened with water but this was the farthest thing from her mind. "What's going on?" she asked, his consternation beginning to frighten her now. She watched as he tossed her the robe she'd been wearing earlier and then started pulling on his pants and sturdy black boots. "It's just a winter storm! Isn't it?" "I wish that were true," he replied, his expression grim. "Listen to me very carefully, Virginia. I'll need you to follow me instructions precisely. Do you understand?" She nodded. "Okay, but” "Good," he said, cutting her off, his eyes flashing. "It's very important to your safety." "Can you at least tell me what's happening?" she pleaded. "Krampus." Santa muttered darkly as he wrapped bright red straps around his wrists, tightening them. "I should've been more careful." "What's Krampus?" she asked, going pale and she paused in putting on her robe, one of her tits hanging out. "Krampus isn't a what, Krampus is a who," he said, his eyes scanning the layout of her expansive living room. "He's also called Black Pete in some places and legend says he's supposed to be my evil henchman who punishes wicked children." "I take it that's not true, then?" she asked, looking around like he did, wondering what he was searching for. "Not even close," he growled. "Pardon my French, but Krampus is an evil sonofabitch. He was, at one time long ago, my dedicated helper, but he turned down the path of darkness, becoming twisted and diabolic. Forget punishing children, he wants to destroy Christmas, like it never happened." "What's that got to do with us here?" she asked, trying to keep her voice from trembling. "Can he reach us in this storm?" "This storm is his doing, I recognize it now," Santa said, striding over to his huge Christmas bag and beginning to rummage in it. "A massive storm always precedes his arrival. It can be mistaken for a regular winter storm if you're not paying

Send us a textWant to land a consulting role in China? This episode breaks down what makes the 2025 recruiting process one of the most competitive and unique in the world.We cover:How applications, assessments, and interviews differ in mainland China vs. Hong KongWhy bilingual skills, academic strength, and international exposure matter more here than almost anywhere elseWhat to expect from digital assessments, group cases, and market-specific interview themes2025 salary benchmarks across McKinsey, Bain, BCG, OW, LEK, and moreFor the full playbook, download Management Consulted's 2025 China Recruitment Roadmap – free. It includes office-by-office insights, target schools, visa info, timelines, and a complete salary table for Shanghai, Beijing, and Hong Kong.Additional Resources:Join Black Belt for coaching, CV edits, and case prep tailored to China's competitive recruiting processFollow along on YouTubePartner Links:Learn more about NordStellar's Threat Exposure Management Program; unlock 20% off with code BLACKFRIDAY20 until Dec. 10, 2025Connect With Management Consulted Schedule free 15min consultation with the MC Team. Watch the video version of the podcast on YouTube! Follow us on LinkedIn, Instagram, and TikTok for the latest updates and industry insights! Join an upcoming live event - case interviews demos, expert panels, and more. Email us (team@managementconsulted.com) with questions or feedback.

Friendzone Skeptics: Part 1. Old classmates spend a week together, and find more. Based on a post by cilma rae. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. Chris Benbury and Jennifer Sanders tell the tale of how their friendship took decades to transform into a life connection. We're going to let them tell just how it happened. I'm Jennifer Sanders. In high school, I was Jenny, or Jenn. One fall day in the early nineties, Chris and I met at our high school. When? What, like the exact moment? Heck, I dunno. It was a small school, and everyone knew everyone; for the most part. It wasn't until after college that we'd connected again. Just friends, we'd meet up for lunch here and there. A text about family would show up, and one of us would respond with a smile or a few updates on their own life. He was always supportive of my goals, and I was very proud to know him and to witness all he had accomplished as well. Chris would date here and there, but there was never anything serious. I was so busy trying to move up in my career field that sometimes, I'd not even realize that two months had gone by since my last; um, well, even the thought of sex was rare. I was pretty happy excelling in the successes of my own business. It was when I turned 35 that I realized I might have let a little too much time go by. "Jenn," my mom lamented in her usual way on our weekly call, "when am I gonna have grand babies?" "Um, Mom? You have six grandchildren," I reminded her as I thought about my three nephews and three nieces produced by the mix of my three brothers and their amazing wives. "Oh, Jennifer," Mom chided, "you know what I mean. You're my only daughter. No boyfriend, at least that I've heard of. No talk of relationships at all. What about Chris? Do you still talk to him? He was always such a sweet boy in high school. You mentioned that you two keep in touch, right?" "Oh, Mother!" I argued. "Chris is a friend, a very good one at that. It's not like that though." "Well, just think on it, OK?" she requested as if my answer wasn't acceptable. "You never know. I mean, remember how I told you that I didn't realize I was meant to be with your father until;" "Until he kissed you, I know," I mocked and shook my head as I had said each word exactly as she had, only my words were dripping with sarcasm. "Mom, I have never been in a position to kiss Chris. He's a good friend. He dates. We share stories and encourage each other in our work ventures. It's just not like that." "OK, I'm just saying;" she announced as she always did when she finally gave up. "Are you coming for Easter?" "Of course, Mom," I answered as I pinched the bridge of my nose. "I'll bring the pistachio salad as usual, and it's my turn to bring their basket contents this year." "Oh, honey," Mom noted and signed. "I know you're the only one without kids, but the boys sure do appreciate that you participate in the 'taking turns' idea for the kids." I couldn't help but smile as she called my 31 , 32, and 34 year-old brothers "the boys." I think I'd actually have to put more brain power into grasping who they were if she were to refer to them as "my brothers." She had always grouped them together when speaking with me. "Oh, believe me," I corrected of her apology, "it's not only no bother, but I'm stoked to get to fill their baskets once every four years. I look forward to earning my properly worded title of 'Best Aunt Ever' twice in those years. Naturally, I have that honor every Christmas!" "Yes, well, just don't show up your brothers with too expensive gifts," she reminded me as she did all the time. She was unaware that I made sure to reach out to my sisters-in-law each year to not only get great (and appropriate) gifts for the family celebration, but also added a few for under their trees in their own homes which would be marked from "Santa." It made my heart full to give them a little extra since I had the means to do it. As I laid in bed that night, I thought about what my mom had suggested. Chris? Really? Had I ever thought about that option? I scoffed and shook my head in the dark. Nah. He was just a friend! I was about to fall asleep when my phone chirped. It was charging on the table next to my bed, so I reached over blindly and picked it up. "I'm really sorry if this is waking you, but I need to talk to you." I didn't think twice and called Chris' sister, Cindy, to see what was going on. We hadn't talked in a long while, but I had her number saved from a surprise party we had thrown for Chris when he had turned 30. "Jenn?" Cindy questioned when answering on the second ring. "Yeah, Cindy, it's me," I confirmed. "What's up?" "Chris was in a car accident!" she exclaimed and let out a sigh as she took the moment to catch her bearings. "Well, oh, gosh," I reacted as I wasn't sure what the severity was. "Is he OK?" I asked as most humans would think to ask next. "Yes, thank God!" Cindy answered and hiccupped. "Oh, I guess I should have led with that. His car is totaled thanks to the jerk who cut him off, but we are at the hospital because he has some injuries." "That makes sense," I replied and shook my head. "Cindy, what's up? I mean, I appreciate the call, and I am happy to check in on him tomorrow, but;" "Well, that's just it," Cindy quickly interrupted. "Um, yeah; so, Dex and I were supposed to be leaving tonight for a week away. Chris is going to need some assistance, so I was wondering, you know, if maybe you could help out?" "Help out?" I asked, dumbfounded. "Cindy, what exactly does 'need some assistance' mean?" "Um, well; he has a concussion, so the doctor mentioned that he shouldn't be left alone for a while," she explained. "No more than a week or so, I think. I mean, as his only sibling, it was logical that I was asked to do it, you know? But we have these tickets, and the trip;" "So, how would it work?" I asked before she rubbed in her little romantic vacation anymore. "He will obviously not be able to work. Would he be able to come to stay at my place, or?" "Oh, I asked that too," Cindy answered. "The doctor said it is best at his place since he knows it the best. You know, corners, walls, and stuff in case he gets dizzy." "So, I'd have to move into his place?" "Yeah," she answered and got quiet. I ran over the short list in my head of other people who could possibly take the position of which I was being offered and realized there was no one else who could do it. His mom was too old and didn't get around very well. His dad was out of the picture. His guy friends were either busy with their married lives or irresponsible enough to not trust in such a position. No, Cindy was right to call me. Now I had to get going. Did I pack? What about my place? Could I leave to check on it throughout the week? Could he come with me? So many questions. "Jenn, are you still there?" I nearly dropped the phone when I heard Cindy calling out to me. "Shoot! Oh, Cindy, I'm sorry. Yes, tell the doctor I'll be there within the hour. I'll grab my things and figure out the other stuff tomorrow. Will you be there?" "Oh, um, we were going to go since he's asleep. Did you need me to stay;" "No, go," I answered and shook my head as I said it. "Go have a blast on your trip. Check in as you can, but don't worry. I'll take care of him." "Oh, thank you, Jenn! I knew you'd be there for him." We continued our niceties as I got dressed again and packed while she told me his room number and promised to text me the information too. We hung up as I zipped my bad shut and headed for the bedroom door. I pointed at the several places my most immediately needed items were usually located and found that I'd packed them all, including my phone charger.     When I entered the hospital, I made my way to the elevator to go straight to Chris' room. I knew it was after hours for the most part, but if I was going to be his person, I had to get in there to speak with the doctor to find out what was required of me. "Excuse me? Can I help you?" a nurse asked as I was looking at the wall to find which direction I needed to go to find the room. "I'm here to see Chris Benbury," I explained. "My name is Jennifer;" "Sanders?" She questioned and nodded when I showed surprise. "Sorry. Chris' sister, Cindy, told us to be expecting you. I'm Marita, and I was here when Chris was brought in, so you can come to me if you have any questions or concerns until 6am when the shift changes. Come with me, hun, and we'll get you comfortable in his room. When I see the doctor, I'll send him in to answer your questions." "Thank you," I answered quietly. The severity of Chris' injuries was still in question, but the fact that I was walking in a hospital being led by a nurse hit me a little. I felt the emotions welling up, so I put up my finger as if to request that we stop so I could collect myself. "Oh, honey! It's alright!" Marita sympathized and rubbed my back. "He's going to be just fine!" I laughed a little at her need to comfort me and shook my head as I wiped my eyes. "Oh, my gosh. This is so stupid. I can't believe I'm standing here crying. I don't know what's come over me!" I inhaled deeply and accepted the tissue Marita offered. As I wiped my eyes, I let out another laugh. "I'm alright. It's just that I am standing here in a hospital, and the sudden realization that Chris could have been really hurt badly, or even;" "Oops! No, no, girl," Marita chided. "No, we aren't going down that road. Chris is going to be just fine. He just got banged up a little. We are monitoring him well, but once you take him home, he'll improve each day. It's just the concussion that has us worried a little bit." "I appreciate it," I responded and nodded. "Thank you. Thanks for letting me get this out before we go in there." "Honey, I gotchu," Marita offered and patted my back again. "Ready? He's right in here." I nodded, so the nurse gave a gentle knock on the door and then pushed it open. It would appear that she did the knocking thing as a habit, but she also seemed to know he was going to be asleep when we walked in. "He has a concussion from the collision. From what I heard, he was turning right onto the street when an impatient son of a b, ," she began to say but stopped herself and cleared her throat. "Excuse me, I mean; when the other driver came along on the shoulder to pass him. I don't know for sure, but the police indicated that the man was being impatient and tried to go around illegally. Because the other driver wasn't paying attention, Chris' continued proper turn into his lane caused a sudden need for the other guy to have to swerve and slammed directly into Chris' car." "Yeah," I replied as I bent over to look at the face of the man who held the honor of one of my longest running friendships, "Cindy mentioned that his car was totaled. It's a shame," I noted as I pushed some hair from Chris' forehead, "because he loved that car. He had it ordered exactly the way he had wanted it only about nine months ago." "That is a shame," Marita echoed. "Well, he's going to have some bruises and aches and pains for a good few days, but other than that, it's the dizziness which might be an issue." Marita continued to check stats and document them since she was in the room. "Well, I'll leave you to visit with him. You can pull out the bed, and the remote is next to his bed if you want to watch something. When I see the doctor, I'll let him know you're here and waiting for instructions." "Thank you, Marita," I responded and nodded.   My name is Christopher Benbury. This is how I got around to getting together with Jennnifer. "Jenn?" My best friend, Jenn Sanders, awoke and looked around as if to try figuring out where she was and who was calling her name. "Jenn? What are you doing here?" I repeated. "Hmm, Chris," she answered and raised her arms to stretch. The chair must have been comfortable, but I don't think she had expected to fall asleep quite so deeply. "Cindy called me after your accident," she explained. "Since she's got her trip with Dax, I came to be your aide for the next week as you heal." "She called you?" I asked and reached up to touch my head. "Ow, stupid headache. Oh, crap! Cindy's trip. Wasn't there anyone else she could have called?" "Wow," she answered sarcastically. "Thanks." "Oh, shit, Jenn," I responded suddenly. I wanted to smack my forehead for acting the way I was. It wasn't her fault I was in an accident, my car had been totaled, and I was waking up in a hospital. "Oh, crap, that's not what I meant. I just; why did she have to bother you?" "Well, I did the math as I pondered my ability to help out, and it comes down to the fact that I'm the only logical person since she's not available. Your mom isn't capable. Andy, Doug, and Erik are either married or, let's face it; not entirely responsible enough to hardly care for themselves; Doug," she muttered, though audibly. I couldn't blame her. Last she'd heard, Doug had locked himself out of his house in a drunken stupor and just slept on the concrete porch one late night. It turned out that he'd also opened his garage door and could have just gone into the house through there. Idiot. Had the weather been ten degrees colder, he could have died. When telling the story, though, he laughed all the way through it and proudly showed off his frozen burnt skin on his arm. I had to reach for Jenn's hand while he told his story to remind her that beating the crap out of the moron wasn't going to change anything. "OK, I suppose you have a point," I realized and laid my head back on the pillow. "Has the doctor been in?" "If he came in while I was sleeping, he didn't wake me up," she answered and stood up to stretch. "Would you want me to call Marita?" "Who?" I asked. Was I supposed to know who that was? Was she already trying to get out of helping me? Was Marita an aide who helped my mom? Why would Jenn know Mom's aides' names? "The nurse," she answered. "I can push the call button and have her come here to check on you, and maybe we could;" "Knock, knock!" Marita announced as she opened the door. "I thought I heard voices! Well, hello there, handsome! And good morning, Jennifer. Last time I was in here, you were hovering over him like a concerned lovebird." I looked over at Jenn, but she was watching Marita, and I couldn't see her face. Was she looking at me with concern? Lovebird? In all the time we'd be hanging out and talking, it had only ever been friendly. Lunches, a rare trip to the movies and shared popcorn, and texts almost every day. But more than friends? Why had Marita said it like that? "The doctor got called away to do surgery in the big city," Marita explained as she messed with the computer and attachments hooked up to my body, "so he left your case, Chris, with Dr. Chesney Ryan. She's due to come in at around 7am this morning. It's 5:30am now. Do either of you need anything? Chris, what is your pain level? Anything other than your head hurting, hun?" "Ask me again once I get out of bed," I requested and sighed. I pulled over the covers and realized I was in a gown. Well, crap. Nice way for my friend to see me for the first time in something other than normal clothes. Maybe I could hold the back together; "How about you, Jenn?" Marita asked. Fortunately, she was keeping Jenn's attention. Or maybe Jenn was just being kind and sparing me the humiliation. I held both sides of my gown together as I hurried to the bathroom to do my business. My friend. Jennifer Sanders and I met during our freshman year of high school. She was always kind to me. We hung out in large groups on occasion, and we laughed a lot when we sat next to one another in homeroom two years in a row. That was a lucky thing for me when many of the other parts of my life sucked so badly. I won't get into it, but let's just say, going to school was a blessing, especially when I got to see Jenn. I chickened out when dances came around, so she was never the wiser that I had a huge crush on her. All throughout high school, I had the pleasure of her company, so why ruin that? I decided during our junior year when I had heard that she'd accepted yet another request for her companionship as the quarterback's date for the next dance of the year to just let go of the dream that one day, she'd want me. And so it went. We graduated from high school in May. We went our separate ways, crossed paths at a restaurant and exchanged cell phone numbers, and reconnected. I have heard from her at least once a week, though recently, if I go two days without hearing from her, I check in. She has always given me the indication that she enjoys my company when we go out to lunch together, and laughter and endless chatting is a given. After countless times of having my mother and sister asking me why Jenn wasn't more to me, I threw up my hands and told them it just wasn't meant to be. Friendship is important to me, and the idea of scaring her away with my declaration of love just wasn't one to deal with. Waking up this morning and finding her there in the room with me was a shock, and I wasn't in the right mindset to acknowledge that my sister had asked Jenn to stay with me. It still wasn't sinking in. I think once the doctor came into the room to discuss the upcoming week of healing, we'd both begin to understand just what was expected of her. I just hoped she wouldn't abandon ship. OK, yes, she'd never do that, but would it cross her mind? When I walked into the room again, Jenn was going through her bag. "Oh, hey," she greeted me again. "I'm supposed to remind you to let Marita know before she leaves if you have any other concerns or pains. She's off at 6am." With her arm full of clothes, she pointed with her other hand. "Are you done in the bathroom? I was hoping to freshen up." "What for?" I asked as I covered myself with the sheet. "You're beautiful as always." "Oh, Chris," she chided and shook her head. "You're both biased and obligated to say so. We old people need to stick together," she claimed, to which I shook my head while rolling my eyes. Because she was always teasing that we were getting old. "And you have to say that because you know if you're mean to me, you'll be left all alone in that big house of yours when I storm out leaving you without anyone to pick you up when you faint." "Doesn't mean it's not true," I argued as she closed the bathroom door. If I was going too far, because I'd never said much of anything before indicating that I saw her as more than a friend, I could claim the concussion as an excuse.   Jenn Dr. Ryan came in just as Marita had indicated at around 7am. She was pleased with the tests she ran on Chris, but she was extremely glad to know that I had planned to spend the week with him at his place. "In the first few days, you should not spend much time on your feet. A shower is fine; but leave the door open so she can hear you. Try not to stand at the stove, for instance." "Oh, I've got meals covered all week," I interjected. "But what about walking?" "OK, good to know about the meals," Dr. Ryan responded. "No strenuous exercise, obviously, but walking is good. Jenn, perhaps plan to hold his arm so that you can feel his speed and stability. Fresh air is definitely helpful." "His bedroom is on the second floor," I informed the doctor. "Oh, I'll be taking the couch," Chris noted. "What?" I asked and shook my head. "Why would you?" "Actually, that's probably a great idea," Dr. Ryan responded. "Even if you help him up the stairs, he will need to come down. If everything is on the main floor, less to be concerned about." "Ha!" Chris teased. I stuck my tongue out at him. He was chivalrous, sure, but he was also stubborn. I could just as easily have stayed on the couch. "Well, I think I'm going to get the paperwork going for discharge," Dr. James told us both as she smirked at our playful nature. Jenn, if you have any concerns, don't hesitate to call my number." I reached out to take her card and gave her raised eyebrows. Her personal number? "I've found that having the patient or caregiver calling me instead of a hospital has dramatically helped in reducing unnecessary trips to the hospital, not to mention going through the painful process of hunting me or another doctor down. I'd say eight out of ten times? Yeah, one-minute Q & A, and the situation is handled. I can give up a minute here or there." I shook my head while smiling. Dr. Ryan just shrugged and winked at Chris. "Welp, are you ready to ditch this joint?" I asked Chris and laughed at my own expression. "Meals? Walks? And you're totally taking my bedroom," Chris added and pointed at me. "How long have you been planning these things?" "Before I fell asleep, I made a list of things I wanted to do or have handled. My brother will stop at my house to get the stuff I'll be texting him once I've assessed things at your house." "Which brother?" Chris asked. "Luke. Duh," I teased. He knew that too. Not only was Luke the brother I was closest to, but he lived closest also. "Well, I never know for sure which gospel writer it'll be," Chris teased. "Well, you know the answer is never John," I lamented. As you can probably surmise, my brothers' names are Matthew, Mark, and Luke, but my parents started with Luke (after me). Since my dad is John, he decided to go in reverse order. I never got that question wrong in Sunday school. "Anyways, he, Luke, will stop in each day at my house. I've contacted my troop and informed them of this situation. I'll be off work other than checking emails, so you can have my full attention." "Oh, well, lucky me," Chris teased. "I'd say so," I shot back. "So, my mail and house are covered. Luke will bring me my food and ingredients for all meals I have planned, and I will order the rest to be delivered." "My treat, of course," Chris interrupted. "I already have an account. I'll add whatever you want to get, but I'm paying." I huffed dramatically. "Ugh, fine," I whined. "We can watch movies, take naps, go for walks, and see how you're feeling each day." "I think Cindy called my boss last night, so I'll just check in with him when we get to my place," Chris noted. He inhaled for a second and then let out the air in a huff. "Jenn, are you sure you want to do this?" "Alright, that's twice," I accused. "What's with you? We went over this already. Why don't you want me to be with you? What did I do? Do you want me to call Doug?" "Jenn! No!" Chris exclaimed. He motioned for me to come sit by him. Seeing as he was still wearing that stupid gown, he couldn't exactly get up. I bowed my head and walked over to stand by the bed. He reached over to take my hand. "Sit, please." Once I did, he continued. "Jenn, I can't begin to explain to you how much it means to me that you're willing to help me out. This stupid accident, my totaled car, Cindy's vacation, my concussion, missing work, rearranging your life so that you can move in with me to babysit me;" "Wait, wait," I argued. "I'm not just some caregiver off the street. It's not like we just met at work a few years ago. I'm not just doing this because you need someone to help you. You're like; my best friend, Chris." I sighed and relaxed a little. "This is stupid, this little fit we're having. Look, you're in a situation that requires help. I'm in a situation that allows me to help you. You'd totally do the same for me, right?" "I mean, I guess, but your parents could easily;" "Chris, cut it out," I argued and playfully slapped his arm. "You'd totally do it and hardly take 'no' for an answer, right?" Chris nodded. "Let me do this. Let's make the most of it. We're always saying at lunches that we should do that more often. Well, we've got about a week's worth of meals to enjoy together. Besides," I teased, "you can see what kind of a cook I am. Maybe after this week, you'll see why it's good that we meet up at restaurants all the time." I shrugged, but Chris didn't laugh. "I just really appreciate it, Jenn," Chris stated quietly. "I'm not used to this, you know? I live alone. I don't depend on anyone. I haven't in years." "Yeah, well, me too," I agreed. "So, let's just see what happens, alright?" I requested and got up because the daytime nurse had knocked and entered the room. "Time to get dressed, young man," Georgie instructed and winked at me as she stood behind him to make sure his bottom remained covered. I turned and checked my bag to give him the decency of a little privacy. As we made our way to Chris' place, we made small talk. I had a list in my head of things needing to be done, but for now, I was thinking that picking up coffee and breakfast sandwiches seemed like the right move. The way Chris' face lit up at the mention of those things made me smile. Once in the house, I began going over my list of necessary items to make all the meals I'd planned for the week. I had a good idea of what I had at my own place since I had made my plans for the weeks' worth of meals a day earlier, so I just had to see what Chris had. I texted my brother the list, thanked him, and told Chris what needed to be purchased for delivery. Once that was all done, I took my things upstairs to his room and set myself up. I still felt bad for taking his room, but he assured me that he was going to sleep just fine on the couch. I only agreed if he was cool with me checking on him randomly throughout the night. He shrugged and agreed. He and I both handled work things for about an hour until the delivery came. I unpacked the groceries and made lunch. Chris joined me at the table, and we talked about movies we'd enjoy throughout the week. It was decided to go with any movies from our high school days for nostalgia's sake. While on a short walk around the block, I offered my arm, but he suggested holding my hand instead. I shrugged and gave it to him. I can't explain what happened, but something inside me awakened. My stomach tightened, my head swam a little, my heart rate sped up, and my skin tingled. He didn't seem to notice, so I tried to play it off and listen to what he was telling me.   Chris "What a beautiful day, huh?" I asked and looked around at our surroundings. "I'm surprised we don't even need a jacket. Easter is a couple weeks away, and I feel like it might even be shorts weather for some egg hunters this year." Jenn laughed. "Remember a couple years ago when you said that at lunch? It snowed on Easter morning that year. I made a comment to my mom about it when I woke up and found it white outside. I literally said aloud to my bedroom, 'Ha! Chris was totally wrong this time!'" "Alright, alright," I admitted and laughed with her. "I suppose I can be wrong some of the time." I squeezed her hand which made her look over at me. She had a different look in her eye than usual, but then again, we didn't ever hold hands like we were either. I admit, I suggested holding her hand for a few other reasons than just her ability to sense that I was losing stability. I had always wondered what it would be like to hold her hand. I wondered if I could get her to dance with me one day too. Maybe it wasn't too late to know what it felt like to hold her in my arms like I had wished for all those years ago. "Shall we go once more around, or was that enough for the day?" Jenn asked, which snapped me out of my little daydream. "Let's play it safe," I suggested and nodded toward the house. "Come on. I feel a little nap coming soon." "Ooo, a nap sounds amazing," Jenn reflected and smiled. "I might even sneak one in too. So, how's your head?" "Oh, I didn't even realize that the headache is practically gone," I informed her and smiled. I almost made mention about her ability to leave earlier than expected, but she didn't seem to like those comments. I guess it did make me seem hard on myself. I just didn't want her to feel like she had to be there if she didn't want to be. I made a pact with myself to stop the shitty comments degrading my self-esteem. She wasn't wrong. It was rather depressing to hear those words, even coming out of my own mouth. "That's great!" Jenn responded and gave me a thumbs up. "Well, let's get you inside and set you up for a nap." Jenn stopped and turned to face me. I had just realized that we were still holding hands. "In fact, let's head upstairs. We can both lie down, and that way, if you need something or don't feel right, I'll be right there." "Um, I mean, yeah. That seems like a good idea." "Right?" Jenn answered. "And also, you can take a shower, grab some fresh clothes, and then we can head down to have dinner and watch a movie or two." So, that's what we did. Jenn laid on the other part of my king size bed once I was set up on my usual side. We fell asleep facing away from each other. She'd set her alarm for two hours for "just in case." We didn't think a longer nap would be good for us. Sleeping the day away wasn't going to help me any, and she didn't want to be too awake at bedtime. I took my shower and tried not to think about the gorgeous woman sitting in my room waiting for me to finish. I thought about a quick release while in there, but even I was nervous that doing so would possibly cause me to become dizzy, and I certainly didn't need her to figure out what had caused me to pass out. Apparently, Luke had come while I was in the shower, so the kitchen was a little more stocked with meal stuff Jenn had planned for. When I came out of the shower, a few more items were sitting on her bag too, so I guessed she'd put those things in the bathroom for herself to use once I was situated downstairs on the couch. Dinner was awesome. The movies were fun and provided several opportunities to laugh, talk about memories that came from the time we had seen the movie or who we saw it with. My mom called to check in on me, and Cindy apparently texted Jenn to let her know that they had made it safely to their destination. Jenn tucked me in, and then she retired upstairs to go to bed. I think she checked in on me a few times, but she didn't disturb me. I woke up to smells of coffee and breakfast. This chick sure knew the way to my heart, intentional or not. I sat up and jumped when Jenn came walking in with a plate and fresh cup of coffee. "Good morning! Rise and shine," Jenn greeted me and set the items down on my coffee table. She left me alone for a minute and then brought her own plate and coffee mug in with her to join me. I generally preferred to eat at the kitchen table for all meals, but this just felt; natural. I really liked it. We checked in on work stuff, watched a little daytime television, walked around the block holding hands, ate lunch, took a little trip to the pharmacy to pick up my prescriptions and a few other things Jenn needed. I wasn't sure. I stayed in the car because she said she'd just run in to grab them along with my meds. When we got home, she took me by the hand and led me upstairs so we could take a nap. There weren't many words. We did that a lot lately. It was like we could just communicate without using all the words. We were falling into a nice routine which seemed to be working for us. I fell asleep facing her back this time.   Jenn When I woke up, I realized first that my back was pressed up to something, and something else was holding me there. I opened my eyes to find myself being spooned by Chris. I froze. Wait, why was this so incredibly comfortable? Was it simply because I hadn't been intimate with anyone in; ? Well, it had been a long time. He stirred behind me and squeezed me to his body. Good; ness, did it feel amazing, or what? I closed my eyes and let myself imagine what could happen if I allowed myself the idea of being with Chris. The way it felt to hold his hand was really nice. The way we were always laughing, talking, being open with one another; oh crap! Was my mom possibly right about him? Had I never even given the idea a thought because we'd been friends for so long? I slid my hand down the arm he had over my stomach and rested it on top of his. I sighed and tried to imagine what a life with him could look like. Oh, gosh. What was I doing? Was I just caught up in this special circumstance where we happened to both be off work, hanging out with no obligations? Well, it was only Day Two, right? Couldn't I just see where it went? Chris stirred behind me, so I waited to see what he'd do. Slowly, he pulled back from me and gently slid his hand out from under mine. He must have assumed I was still sleeping. I inhaled deeply and stirred as if his movement woke me. "Hmm, hey," I greeted him and turned to face him. He'd slid far enough away that it didn't feel too awkward. "How'd you sleep?" Nothing came across as awkward, so we went on with our day and continued to go on with the day as usual. Days Three and Four went very much the same, each event bringing us closer together. A routine had been setting in, and the two of us seemed to enjoy the familiarity of each other and the circumstances in which we'd found ourselves. On Day Five, I found myself feeling rather sleepy during the late morning walk, so Chris pleaded for me to allow him to make us some lunch this time. I nodded and rested back into my cozy living room chair as the TV lulled me to sleep.   Chris So, I was making lunch when I realized that Jenn was fast asleep on the chair. I knew I could just leave her there, but I was going to be good for a nap too, so I ate my sandwich after packing hers up in a baggie and walked into the living room to assess the best approach. I covered her with a blanket since she had her hands tucked into her armpits and slid my arms beneath her to carry her up to the bedroom. Once she was settled, I faced her and smiled at the beautiful woman lying beside me in my bed. I leaned forward and kissed her forehead before closing my eyes to fall asleep. What woke me actually surprised me. It wasn't the movement on the bed, but the little kiss I felt against my cheek. I started a bit, but the hand holding mine just squeezed it. "Hi there," Jenn greeted me and smiled as she inhaled deeply. "I must have fallen asleep. Did you carry me upstairs, or did I just stay too asleep to not realize it? Oh; and lunch?" "You were out before I had the bread on the counter," I teased. "I ate quickly and put yours in a bag for after our naps." I took my turn to inhale deeply. I'd had the best sleep during all these naps. I didn't want to imagine what else was going away when the week was over. "Well, shower time if you want," Jenn mentioned. "I'm going to go downstairs to eat and set out the stuff for dinner." She looked over as she slid her hand out of mine. "You good?" "Yep," I answered instinctively. "See you down there." "You betcha," she answered and pointed at me and winked as she smiled and headed toward the door. I was about to get up when she came back in suddenly. "Oh, Chris?" "Hmm?" "Thanks for doing that," she answered. "I have had some great naps. I feel like this week has been a vacation, and it's the best I've ever had. I just; I appreciate that, um; I just appreciate it." "Well, I won't be getting in any more accidents," I teased. "You had better not!" she agreed. "We got lucky with this one only messing with your head a little. I don't want to know how bad it could have been," she added. "I'm kinda getting used to having you around. Might need to step up our dinner dates to once a week instead of once every other month, right? Well, unless you're sick of me." "Nope, definitely not that," I answered quietly. "What?" she yelled as she descended the stairs. "I guess we'll see," I teased. Her laughter made me smile. Dinner was phenomenal as usual. Jenn had a real knack for cooking. I didn't do so badly at it, particularly with the foods I tended to gravitate to since I was almost always only cooking for me, but having her bring in these different dishes made me wish the week was going to last longer. And not just because it was someone else making the dishes. It was Jenn, and I wanted it all: the time, the food, the girl. Yes, especially the girl. Rather than heading to the living room after dinner, I offered to do the dishes. "Go take a bath in the tub. It has jets. Go relax. I promise, if I feel even the least bit lightheaded, I'll sit down at the table. But I'll be fine. Go relax before we watch tonight's movie. We only picked one, remember?" "Thanks, I think I'll do that," she answered. I was relieved. Jenn needed to enjoy the amenities of this "vacation" as she'd called it. I was thrilled that she was enjoying the time with me as much as I was loving this time with her. I hoped it would actually lead to more meals spent together. Who knew what the future held, right? That night, once she'd made sure I was set for the night, she headed upstairs. I was flipping through channels not even acknowledging what was on the television. I was about to turn off the TV when I heard her coming down the stairs. I went ahead and set the remote on the table and pretended to be asleep. I figured she'd come over to check on me, and (forgive me, but; ) maybe I'd be able to sneak a peek. She wore shorts and a tank top to bed, at least while she'd been sleeping over, and I wondered if I might get to see a little something when she bent over to check on me. Rather than coming over to the couch, though, Jenn walked into the kitchen. As I turned to see what she was doing, I found myself staring at her cute, little panty-covered ass. She was reaching up into the cabinet for something. I wasn't sure what it was that she needed so badly, but it was enough for her to keep trying. Now was my chance. I had no idea what I was going to do, but the time was there, and I was taking the chance. I walked up behind Jenn and pressed into her as I reached up into the cabinet to get the box on the top shelf. My mouth had gone dry from staring at her, and my heart was pounding. As I brought the box down, I recognized the label. What the hell did she need condoms for? "Jenn?" "Chris," she replied in a whisper. "What's up?" "I, um; I thought you'd be asleep," she justified. "I;" "; needed condoms in the middle of the night?" "Yes," she answered and exhaled a ragged breath. She was shaking. "Why?" I asked as I set the box on the counter. I leaned forward as I shut the cabinet door and smiled a little to myself as I could feel her ass pressed up against my crotch. "Jenn, what's going on?" "I was going to check on you," she answered and, only to surprise me more, rested her head against my chest. "I; I was going to see if you, um;" I leaned down to brush my lips along her neck. "To see if I; what, Jenn?" Her response was just as I'd hoped. She pressed her bottom into my groin and moaned as I licked her earlobe. "What do you want, Jenn?" I whispered into her ear. With a moan, Jenn looked up at me with pleading eyes. "What is it?" "Kiss me," she breathed and reached up to slide her hand behind my head and into my hair. I leaned down and put my lips to hers. Fireworks. Good God! It was nothing like I had imagined, and so much more amazing than I thought possible. Jenn's moans indicated that she felt the same. To be continued. Based on a post by cilma rae, for Literotica.

Joining Robert Pilot: Kahomy Weston of Owámniyomni Okhódayapi announcing the full design for the project, some exciting new details about the project to share. Robert Lillegren C.E.O Native American Community Development Institute – NACDI

Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne单词提示1.tunnel 隧道2.torches 火把3.pickaxe 镐原文Chapter 5: Lost in the TunnelsWe put our rope through holes in the rocks on the sides of the walls, then climbed down.Hans went first, then my uncle, then me.Every two hundred feet, we found a flat rock to stop on.We pulled the rope down from above us, tied it to a new rock, then started again.We did this for almost ten hours.We travelled 2,000 feet down.Finally,Hans said something. "Stop!"It was only one word, but it was nice to finally hear his voice."What happened?""We're at the bottom."The professor and I looked at him."Of what?""I don't know."There was a turn in the hole.There was an open area like a cave at the bottom of the hole, which continued to the right.Our bags were there.After ten hours of climbing down, we were very tired.We decided to spend the night there.In the morning, we continued our journey down.The hole now opened and looked more like a tunnel.We did not need to climb because we could walk down this tunnel.We used our torches, so we could see the rock on the walls clearly.It looked like glass of different colors.Some of it was red, some was brown, and some was yellow.My uncle saw me looking at it."That's from the lava.""It's beautiful.""So,you're starting to enjoy our journey. There's more to see. Come along."We walked for two more days and we found other tunnels.There were tunnels everywhere, but we did not know which was the right one.Unluckily,our water finished."Now,what are we going to do?""We're going to find a spring. There are many, but we have to go down further."I could not move. I was very tired and thirsty and thinking of Grauben."Uncle,I can't go on.""Axel,please. We are going to find water.""Water!"It was Hans' voice."What did you say?""Water!"There was a loud sound behind the wall next to us.It sounded like the water of a river.Hans took a pickaxe and made a hole in the wall.Water came out onto the floor around us."It old you, Axel. Water! Ow! It's hot. Don't touch it. It needs air. We're too far underground."The water was cold enough to drink after a few minutes and we all felt strong again.We continued our journey but I made a serious mistake.I was very excited about finding the water and I went first.I walked too far in front of the others and I got lost.I tried to go back, but I could not find them.I shouted their names."Uncle!Hans!" I could only hear my own voice in the tunnel.I was afraid. I ran.Then I fell. I fell through the air down along tunnel.Then I hit my head and everything went black around me.翻译第五章：在隧道里迷路我们把绳子穿过墙边岩石上的洞，然后往下爬。汉斯先去，然后是我叔叔，最后是我。每隔200英尺，我们就找一块平坦的岩石停下来。我们把绳子从头上拉下来，把它系在一块新的岩石上，然后又开始了。我们这样做了将近10个小时。我们向下飞行了2000英尺。最后，汉斯说了些什么。“住手!”虽然只有一个词，但终于听到了他的声音，感觉很好。“发生什么事了?”“我们在最底层。”教授和我看着他。“什么底部?”“我不知道。”洞里有个转弯。在洞的底部有一块像洞穴一样的空地，一直延伸到右边。我们的行李在那里。爬了十个小时下来，我们都很累了。我们决定在那里过夜。早上，我们继续下山的旅程。这个洞现在打开了，看起来更像一条隧道。我们不需要爬，因为我们可以走下这条隧道。我们用了手电筒，所以我们能清楚地看到墙上的岩石。它看起来像不同颜色的玻璃。有些是红色的，有些是棕色的，还有一些是黄色的。我叔叔看见我在看它。“那是熔岩留下的。”“很漂亮。”“所以，你开始享受我们的旅程了。还有更多的东西要看。过来。”我们又走了两天，发现了其他地道。到处都是隧道，但我们不知道哪一条是正确的。不幸的是，我们的水喝完了。“现在，我们该怎么办呢？”“我们要去找一个泉水。有很多，但我们必须进一步深入。”我动弹不得。我又累又渴，想起了格劳本。“叔叔，我走不下去了。”“阿克塞尔。我们会找到水的。”“水!”那是汉斯的声音。“你说什么？”“水!”我们旁边的墙后面有一声巨响。这声音听起来像河水的声音。汉斯拿起鹤嘴锄，在墙上挖了一个洞。水涌到了我们周围的地板上。“我告诉过你，阿克塞尔。水!噢!它是热的。别碰它。它需要空气。我们在地下太深了。”水凉了，几分钟后就可以喝了，我们都觉得精力充沛了。我们继续我们的旅程，但我犯了一个严重的错误。我很兴奋找到了水，我先去了。我在别人前面走得太远了，所以迷路了。我想回去，但找不到他们。我喊着他们的名字。“叔叔!汉斯!”我只能在隧道里听到自己的声音。我很害怕。我跑。然后我摔倒了。我顺着隧道从空中掉了下来。然后我撞到了头，周围一片漆黑。

Ow! Download Cash App Today: https://capl.onelink.me/vFut/1y1gs9ys #CashAppPod. Cash App is a financial services platform, not a bank. Banking services provided by Cash App's bank partner(s). Prepaid debit cards issued by Sutton Bank, Member FDIC. See terms and conditions at https://cash.app/legal/us/en-us/card-agreement. Cash App Green, overdraft coverage, borrow, cash back offers and promotions provided by Cash App, a Block, Inc. brand. Visit http://cash.app/legal/podcast for full disclosures. For simple, online access to personalized and affordable care for Hair Loss, ED, Weight Loss, and more, visit https://Hims.com/SUPERMEGA Sign up for your $1 per month trial and start selling today at https://Shopify.com/super If you're 21 or older, get 40% OFF your first order + free shipping @IndaCloud with code SUPERMEGA at https://inda.shop/SUPERMEGA ! #indacloudpod Follow Matt: @matthwatson Follow Ryan: @elirymagee Follow the show: @supermegashow Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Il y a deux ans, après le premier épisode de Podcast tourné avec Charles Le Menestrel, repreneur de la marque Ollech and Wajs, sa passion et la sincérité de ses propos m'avaient tellement touché qu'à l'issue de cette rencontre, je lui avais commandé une montre... Après hésitations, mon choix s'était porté sur la fameuse OW Ocean Graph, une plongeuse à part, digne héritière d'une montre légendaire, l'iconique Caribbean 1000 Ocean Graph. Or, maintenant, c'est l'heure du bilan ! Bilan de deux années pendant lesquelles j'ai beaucoup porté cette montre. Qu'est-ce qui à l'époque m'avait poussé à prendre ce modèle en particulier ? Et surtout, qu'est-ce que j'en pense deux ans après, une fois que la lune de miel est passée....quelles sont ses qualités mais aussi ses points à améliorer ? En bref, est-ce que la rachèterais encore aujourd'hui... D'autant qu'OW vient de sortir l'Ocean Graph Mark 2, une version modifiée et bonifiée de cette montre déjà plutôt bien née. Donc, une occasion rêvée de les comparer et de dire en toute connaissance de causes si la nouvelle fait mieux que l'ancienne. Qu'est-ce qui a réellement changé ? Qu'apporte-elle de plus ? Et surtout, est-ce une simple évolution ou une refonte complète ? Je sais que vous êtes nombreux à vous pencher sur les OW, donc ça devrait vous intéresser... Mais dans cet épisode, en plus de tester cette nouvelle Ocean Graph, je vous propose de revenir sur les origines de ce modèle et de vérifier si l'adn est bien respecté. Bonjour à tous et bienvenue sur DM&V, j'espère que vous allez pour le mieux. sachez tout d'abord que cet épisode est, comme d'habitude, disponible en version audio sur toutes les plateformes de podcast mais également en vidéo sur ma chaine Youtube Des Montres & Vous. Si vous aimez la chaine et son contenu, N'hésitez pas à liker, à vous abonner et à activer les notifications pour ne rien louper et pour aider DM&V à progresser. Bonne écoute ! Liens utiles : Pour rejoindre Le Cercle, mon canal WhatsApp : https://whatsapp.com/channel/F96PntzE... Episode #39 Le fascinant retour d'Ollech & Wajs raconté par son repreneur https://smartlink.ausha.co/des-montres-et-vous/39-le-fascinant-retour-d-ollech-wajs-raconte-par-son-repreneur Episode #123 Du vrai Swiss Made à -2000€ : Mythe ou réalité ? https://youtu.be/kg63A3CSGoI?si=Go_KurcBv-X_v6RV Hébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

 This episode's guests:Yana Yakushina, Lawyer and Researcher.James Lowenthal, Astronomer.Vicky Derksen, Night Sky Tourist.Bill's News Picks:Randomised trial reveals a mismatch between preferences for and hormonal responses to anthropogenic light colour temperatures, PLOS One. Light Wavelength Modulates the Effects of Lighted Nights on Sleep, Metabolism and Oxidative Stress in Female Zebra Finches, Journal of Experimental Zoology Part A: Ecological and Integrative Physiology. The Great New Zealand Road Trip: ‘You New Zealanders take your stars for granted' - the striking words of a tourist that helped turn this Kiwi region dark, Shayne Currie, The New Zealand Herald. This Chappell Roan song boosted interest in a Canadian dark sky preserve by 1,800%, Elizabeth Howell, Space.com. Inside New Brunswick's ambitious plan for the world's densest dark-sky corridor, Jamie Carter, Space.com. Subscribe:Apple PodcastSpotifyYoutubeSend Feedback Text to the Show!Support the showA hearty thank you to all of our paid supporters out there. You make this show possible. For only the cost of one coffee each month you can help us to continue to grow. That's $3 a month. If you like what we're doing, if you think this adds value in any way, why not say thank you by becoming a supporter! Why Support Light Pollution News? Receive quarterly invite to join as live audience member for recordings with special Q&A session post recording with guests. Receive all of the news for that month via a special Supporter monthly mailer. Satisfaction that your support helps further critical discourse on this topic. About Light Pollution News: The path to sustainable starry night solutions begin with being a more informed you. Light Pollution, once thought to be solely detrimental to astronomers, has proven to be an impactful issue across many disciplines of society including ecology, crime, technology, health, and much more! But not all is lost! There are simple solutions that provide for big impacts. Each month, Bill McGeeney, is joined by upwards of three guests to help you grow your awareness and understanding of both the challenges and the road to recovering our disappearing nighttime ecosystem.

Joining Robert Pilot, Shelley Buck and Dana Thompson (board vice-chair) of Owámniyomni Okhódayapi join for to talk about what's ahead for the nonprofit. Ruth Buffalo E.D of MIWRC joins us too.

A Cheated-on Halloween Spectre Dead husband returns for revenge on wife and lover. Based on a post by LitEro Cat. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories. The thin curtain between the living and the dead realms is weakest on All Saints Eve. Wraiths like me begin to cross into the living domain at the stroke of local midnight, but at the 3AM. witching hour, the veil briefly ceases to exist. For one hour, we can easily cross both ways. At midnight on All Saints Day, the curtain becomes impenetrable and we are stuck on either side until the next Halloween. I'm here in my former bedroom in San Diego, to avenge my murder, by my not-so-loving wife, not merely to watch her sleeping naked with my former best friend. Dead exactly one year, I've had that long to practice my deathly powers. Our atoms are spread to a tenth of our former density which allows us to appear to fly and to pierce denser objects. The only real new power we have is to affect gravity at a tiny level. That is how I can pull the sheet off my wife and her lover. I can see and feel quite well, even hear, taste, and smell the fresh scent of sex from my bed. The taste of pheromone is strong, especially when I raise her leg and lick her pussy or his shrunken cock. He is still coated in their mixed cum, so she chose not to lick him clean, as usual. I spread her pussy lips and see his cum oozing out of her.  So, she shaved her red bush for him. When I lick her clit, she stirs. "Oh Bill, I can't go again. Isn't twice in an hour enough for you?" I started moving his hand off her tit, which wakes him. I raise his dick and squeeze it, as I shove some dense air hard on his balls. Twice in an hour? I was lucky to get it twice a month. "Ow! Kim, there's no need to hurt me. I was asleep. Is that how you treated Ken after sex? No wonder he was always grumpy. Don't treat me like that, or you can end up like he did." "Are you seriously threatening me? You woke me by fingering my pussy and rubbing your cock against my ass." She rolled onto her back, knees up and apart, pussy spread and leaking, big tits sloping sideways to her pits. Her red hair formed a halo around her head. She was as beautiful as I remembered, and gave me an ecto-hard on; well we don't have blood to do it, so ectoplasm has to "fill in" for it. Did I mention that we have no use for clothes so we are naked and use ectoplasm to disguise that when needed? Today, it wasn't needed. My cock swelled bigger than in life, at the thought of eating her. As soon as she dozed off again, I drifted down from the ceiling, planted my face on her wet pussy, and lapped up some cream pie on my way to her clit. My tongue pushed her hood side-to-side until it presented her hard pearly glans. I sucked and nibbled it just as she liked. She gasped and her head shot hard left. A long groan escaped her as her chest, tits and neck flushed. I still had the skills. "Oh Bill, oh. I said no more tonight. I thought you hated cream pie. Ken used to nibble on my clit like that and eat his cum. I forgot how much I miss that. Bill?" Her bright green eyes squinted. Bill was lightly snoring. Angered, she straddled his face, pulled his jaw open and spread her wet pussy to let his spent cum fill his own mouth. His body spasmed and tried to force her off, but she gripped the back of his neck and held on. He had no choice but to swallow his salty cream. He sputtered; she laughed. Seeds of discontent planted, I floated away to look for my laptop. It was in its usual place. In my small desk drawer, sat my collection of flash drives including a new pack of three. I had to create a scalpel to cut open the pack then plugged a new one into the PC. With a delicate touch, I opened WordPerfect and began typing these notes. Once I get them to admit on my USB recorder who killed me and how, I can send that to the police and have my revenge. It's 8AM. and they are eating, naked, as I listen in. They are planning to attend a one-year ceremony for me. Watching my ex bustle around the kitchen makes her sweet ass jiggle, her tits dance, and two cocks stiffen. Bill swings her around to straddle his lap and slides her smoothly onto his cock. Though I hate her, I still crave her fucking awesome body. "Oh, you feel so good, deep inside me. Bill, how long have you practiced that move? I think the first time you pulled that on me, was four years ago, when Ken insisted we go to a carnival commando, all of us. He made the mistake of removing my panties in front of you; then flashing my bare pussy as proof. That was the first time I saw your cock too, when you guys both stripped in front of me. We laughed, but that was the start for us, wasn't it?" "Yes. I recall Ken squeezing my dick and passing it to you to stroke and watch it swell. At the carnival, both of us kept spinning you so your dress flew up and you flashed everyone around. We all laughed. It wasn't until later that night, in this very kitchen, that I pulled that move and impaled you on my cock the first time. Your dress settled on us and we both felt the sparks. Then Ken came in with some wine. You went for glasses, but the fool didn't know I had just claimed your snug pussy. He must have seen me stuffing my cock away, yet said nothing. I guess he trusted us." Four years? I was a fool. That's, that's  when she started refusing me sex. So they were fucking for three years before my death. Maybe if I embarrass her enough, and make her blame Bill, I can get them arguing. That will be tough since she likes exposing herself, if she can't be blamed. Wait. Is that the mourning dress she's wearing? It's backless, low on top and high on bottom. At least it's black. It's a cocktail dress for seduction, hardly for mourning. No panties or bra, just a diamond pendant to draw attention to her shapely tits. It tapers at the waist, then has a wide zipper to the bottom. I can work with that. My ceremony was at a small church. The front entrance was across a creek with a 100-foot bridge over it. Parking was near the bridge, then we had to walk it, and everyone took a moment to absorb the quiet landscape. Ignoring the gossip about disrespecting me, they walked hand-in-hand to the bridge. She shook free and walked a step ahead of him; a pretense of respect. Once she was free of him, I acted. Before she reached the middle of the bridge, I lifted her skirt to her ribs exposing her sweet ass and wanton pussy to all our old friends. She fought the dress and scowled at Bill. When she straightened up, I pushed both narrow straps off her shoulders and down to her waist. Both luscious bouncy tits, capped with hard nipples, lit up in the bright sunshine. She squealed, bringing more attention to her beautiful tits. Then glared at Bill, who shrugged innocently. She turned to go back to the car, but Bill stopped her and reminded her how inappropriate it would be to miss her husband's ceremony. She was expected to praise me from a lectern. Her angry glare burned through Bill. He dropped back a few more steps, yet the back of her dress went up above her waist in the breeze I created. Bill had to choose whether to risk telling her. He chose to stay quiet and, with the others, watched her big round naked ass wiggle across the bridge. In the church, Bill wisely chose to sit in the first row, but across the aisle from where Kim sat. The minister came to Kim and clipped a small wireless microphone to her dress. Then he started a recording of the event, to give Kim later. Finally, he opened the meeting and said a few general words. Then he introduced Kim, my "grieving" wife. When she moved into the narrow aisle, I moved her hand behind her and unzipped her dress, then slid it off. With the dress on the floor, she stood naked except for her shoes. She gasped and froze, leaving her sexy, inappropriate ass exposed to everyone. She glanced at Bill who threw his hands up. The minister had a perfect full frontal view, and stood open-mouthed. Now she was finally embarrassed; not at being naked, but at believing that everyone thought She had deliberately stripped. After a long red-faced moment where the entire front row drooled over her big swinging tits, she bent, exposing her pussy and ass hole, as she exclaimed in a loud voice that She didn't do that and it was a cheap prank by her former friend, Bill. As soon as she touched her dress, I licked her pussy which made her squeak and fall on the floor face up and legs apart, facing the gathering and making a lovely spectacle. Dress in hand, big tits dancing, she stumbled to her feet then ran past the minister, to the rest room, while the congregation sat in stunned silence. I flew through the restroom door and stared at her confused face and beautiful naked body. She leaned against a wall and tried sorting things out. When she covered her face with both hands, I ran two ecto-fingers into her wet pussy with care. She gasped. When I rubbed her clit side-to-side and sucked it, she shouted my name. The little wireless microphone caught it. The gathering assumed that was in grief. Her eyes closed, her hands gripped the wall; she began gasping louder. I edged her toward a loud orgasm; she groaned when I stopped. Edging her again got her moaning and calling my name. Sweat ran down her naked body as she twisted and shouted a stream of obscenities until I reached her G spot and twisted another finger into her tight ass. "Oh, Yes, Yes, fuck me Ken. It must be you. Bill doesn't measure up to you. He doesn't know your tricks with my clit, or G-spot, or my ass. I forgot how much, Oh-Oh, I miss sex with you. I'm so sorry we killed you. It was Bill's idea to rub peanut oil in your Halloween mask before the party. Oh-Oh, fuck me harder. After you went into shock, I swapped your mask with a clean one. I'm so sorry! Please, Bill. Please Fuck me like I used to let you!" Someone was banging hard on the door. I leaned my head through it and saw it was Bill. It was time to share a new trick with her. I formed an ecto cock, a foot long. After licking her tasty twat, I pushed my new phantom cock fully into her and made it triple width so it rubbed her lower clit and her G spot together. Her eyes crossed. As she started to climax, I twisted my ecto-finger in her ass and gave her the most intense orgasm she ever had, one that she would never have again. The minister unlocked the door and he and Bill found her confused, rubbing her clit, and drooling on the floor. Bill helped her up and put her dress on her before carrying her out to the car. I rushed home and finished typing these notes and saved them to the flash drive before my murderers arrived. As they pulled into the driveway, I opened the garage door, pulled my bike off the hangers, and rode it past them and down the road. Since they couldn't see me, all they saw was a "living" bike pedal away on its own. I flew back inside quickly. When they approached the only kitchen entry, they found it blocked by all the canned goods from the open pantry. Kim screamed. Epilogue: She accused Bill of stripping her in front of the gathering; he denied it and could not convince her. They broke up that night. The next day, police arrested them both for my murder and conspiracy. The church recording and all the witnesses to the spontaneous confession gave probable cause. I decided to hang around longer than I intended. Since I missed my window to return to the land of the dead, I watched the trial, conviction, and start of their life sentences. While I'm stuck here with the living, I visit Kim in her prison cell and fuck her daily. She scares her Hispanic cellmate when she shudders and cums. The Latina is convinced it's voodoo. The doctor thinks she is epileptic and treats her with stupefying meds and restraints. On random days, during her lunch period, I strip her in front of the lesbian prisoners and guards, bend her over a table, and fuck her to shivering orgasms as they watch. She finishes her lunch naked.  I won't say what I do to Bill, daily. Nor what the Sexual predators make sport of doing, after they saw him bent over bare-assed. It will be Halloween every day for her, until I cross back. Revenge is so sweet. Jan's Ghost Guest Pam wants her house back and haunts a housewarming. LitEro Cat Ghost Guest A month after buying a distressed house, then getting it into 'move-in' shape, we threw a housewarming party for friends and new neighbors. Everything was going smoothly that day, I even kept my weekly tennis outing that Saturday. On the way home, I picked up the Deli order and just needed to change into a casual party outfit, before the guests arrived. Arriving home ,I saw the drier had failed to dry the laundry, including my intended party wardrobe choice. So I left on my tennis outfit and helped Jake set out the beverages and snacks. Then the doorbell rang, and I greeted my first guests. The few neighbors who came, were less outgoing than I hoped. Jake invited coworkers  their spouses, and his hunting buddies. I invited a few couples, too. They seemed to form their own groups, with shielded whisperings whenever they looked at me or my husband, Jake. I approached one whom I knew from work, Bev, and asked about the secrecy. "Well, Jan, you know; a notorious single woman died in this house. The agent must have told you."  She hadn't. Bev filled me in; "Pam was in her forties, divorced, and had a reputation for sleeping around, yet she was bitter and miserable when she got sick. She died suddenly, and no one went to her funeral. She loved this house, especially her 'meditation' room, which you converted into your workout room. Thanks for the open invitation, but don't expect any more to come. Jake's den was her 'special guest' room where she 'entertained.' Some say she still haunts this place and they won't enter." "Isn't that silly, believing in ghosts?" I smirked. A glass slid across the buffet table and crashed on the floor, though no one was near the table. The crowd hushed and stared. "No worries.” I assured them all. “Someone must have bumped the table. Jake, would you clean that up?" House Tour. I continued to show the house. When I got to the meditation room, something swiftly unzipped and pulled my short tennis skirt to the floor. No one was near me. As I quickly fixed it and reached up to show pull bar on the Nautilus exercise machine, my crop top pulled off me with so much force, it pulled me off balance, then it flew across the room. Some guests trembled in fear, others simply smiled knowingly, and looked around. Before I let go of the pull bar, to fetch my top, my bra unclipped and flew across the room. As if baring my tits to my guests wasn't enough, something bonded my grip to the bar and held my arms straight up. Every man there tented his slacks. Still in denial, and refusing to be embarrassed, I begged, "Great gag. Who's doing this?" "Say what I say, or more punishment comes." came a hoarse voice in my ear. Startled, I looked around and shouted to empty air, "No. I won't say that. Who are you?" The crowd of about 15 people looked at me and stared at my dangling tits. Then, my mouth spoke Pam's words, "Everybody Join Me. Show Off Your Tits. Come Look At Mine And Feel Them."  Two women then bared their tits, staring at me, entranced. Their men approached me and felt my tits. They pinched my nipples, shrugged, and walked away. When they approached the door, it slammed shut. No one could open it. Though my arms were still held up, Pam was more annoyed and pulled my skirt to the floor again. I shrieked and stood topless in my sheer thong. My guests began to understand my connection to Pam. The same two men circled me and examined my ass with their eyes and fingers as others felt panic rise. Pam finally released my grip, and I sat at the workout bench.  The ghost named Pam then forced my arms down, made them unzip the men, and extract their stiff cocks. "Repeat for me, Pam ordered. Then I declared her words; “These Two Happily Married Men, And Others Of You, Frequented My Guest Room, And Tasted My Charms." Pam controlled my hands as I jerked the two men, as their wives and other guests watched. The men resisted, yet stepped out of their slacks as if in a trance, and felt up my flawless ass. When I strained to stop jerking the men, Pam whispered, "Still resisting? Okay."  I was pressed onto my back, lying on the workout bench. I was Still stroking two big, stiff cocks, my thong got yanked, then started to slide down. When my minimal bush appeared, the two topless women gasped and rubbed themselves; their husbands smiled. The loss of my thong exposed my stiff clit. Seeing no harm in Pam's control, I began to enjoy showing off my body without shame. Several men moaned, including Jake. When the loss of the thong exposed my swollen labia, as the stretchy little cloth fell to my feet, I was deliciously naked in my housewarming, in front of my captive audience. To keep up appearances, I shouted, "Someone help. What's happening?" I wondered if they could see how wet I was. "We tried to warn you.” Bev said. “Pam was a vindictive bitch. She's not done with you yet." "Well, this is my house now and I make the rules." That may have been too much for Pam to accept. She whispered, "Really? Let's move to the weight bench and see." Against my will, Both my tits rose up as if pulled by my nipples, then dropped heavily. My mouth dropped with the sudden pain. Looking down, I saw my nipples being twisted and pinched though no one touched me. Something kicked my feet apart and spread my lips open for my guests. I felt a cold chill lick me, and then something unseen enter my pussy. It felt bigger than any cock I'd ever had in me. The pain matched the pleasure it gave. My clit shifted and jumped from its hood. I felt teeth scraping it. When my tits were squeezed and released, with my nipples twisting up tall and hard, I screamed out an ear-piercing climax. Hanging my gasping head, I fell to my knees and pulled the two cocks I still held; to my mouth. Already at the edge, my tongue lapping their cocks was enough to make both cum around and in my mouth. As I swallowed their cum, a chilly finger twisted into my ass. I came again and fell on my chest as the cold finger fucked my ass. I'm No stranger to anal, and that was still something wonderful and new. The two wives, already knowing their husbands had sought out Pam for casual sex, watched their men cum on me. Their fingers were quietly in their panties, jilling their pussies and rubbing their clits. They twisted their tall nipples and climaxed when their husbands did. Everyone watched the two women fully strip, then attack each other's husband expecting their stiffness to last longer after their release. Pam smiled knowing the town's secrets and seeing that one exposed. The icy finger left my ass; I sighed. Though I began believing, I said, "This is an elaborate trick. I still won't believe in ghosts." "Really? Explain This."  Speaking Pam's words, I said, "No one has helped Jan arrange anything  in this room, so no one knows what's in Jan's closet. Yet I do." The closet door swung open, revealing a box which fell open, off the high shelf. In it were several vibrators. One of them lifted up and moved to my hand. Still naked, cum covered, and several feet from anyone, I levitated a few feet. Turned to face the weight bench face down, I felt an angled pillow move under me. When I lay across it with my hips on it, I knew my bare ass was offered to all. With my legs pulled apart, my rear hole and special rear view of my swollen, wet pussy were clearly lit. I heard someone whisper, "Beautiful pussy." I sighed with pride. A spanking paddle flew out of the closet and slammed my ass hard on one cheek. Jake later told me my ass flushed bright red as I screamed. My arms were pinned so I had no defense against the hard whack on my other cheek. "Believe Me Now, Bitch?" "No!" "Now you're just being stubborn. Or are you starting to enjoy this? Can't have that."  My sexy cheeks spread, my lusty pussy on display, Pam showed everyone my winking, crinkled hole. The vibrator in my hand flew up and twisted itself into my pussy before turning on. Another vibrator flew from the box and wormed its way into my ass before turning on. The paddle went high, then slapped one cheek hard before rising again and slapping the other. I groaned and climaxed again as if full of two, big cocks. Bev said, "Jan, give up. She will just continue to torture you until you do.” Give her what she demands. Then The fun will end." "OK. I believe you, Pam. Are you satisfied, bitch? Show yourself. What do you want?" In Pam's voice, "I want my home back. But I know I need someone to be my contact. If you refuse, then you must move out." I answered, "If you can live here peacefully with us, we can have fun together. May I have my clothes back?" "Not yet, Jan. Let's move to the new den." I flew off the bench and landed in front of my guests. Bev passed me a napkin to wipe the cum off my face. In the den, Pam spoke through me again, "My Queen bed took most of this room. This is where I fucked most of the men here, and went down with several women. Jan should know who her neighbors are." Jake flew up a few feet, threw up his arms, and his shirt flew off. The rest of his clothes flew off next and he was as naked as I was. Everything on his desk slid to the floor as Jake gently lay on his back there with his stiff cock pointing up. His knees came up with a grunt as his cock bent stiffly down. He moaned, "oh, so cold," as a misty image of a beautiful, shapely, greenish, young woman appeared above him with her cheeks sucking on his cock. Many terrified fingers pointed; Bev said, "That's her; that's Pam.” Another said; “I'd know her perfect tits and ass anywhere. Oops." Her secret was out. It was not to be the last. Pam pointed at Bev and in Pam's voice she said. "Yes, Bev and I were lovers. Jake here was one of my clients for several years, though Jan didn't know. I pushed him to buy my house from probate, so we could continue to fuck, with a provision. I wanted him and Jan to be my daily lovers and all my other clients to be welcome here in my bed. Jake agreed. Do you agree, Jan? Watch what I can make your husband do for me and in you."  Jake lurched and grunted several times as he launched a fountain of cum into Pam's mouth and through her head. The plume of cum fell back through her and landed on his balls.  "Bev, come lick this up. Jan, we await your decision." Pam was All smiles as Bev approached Jake, hungry for his cum, her clothes fell off with each step. By the time she spread his legs, she was tit-slinging naked in front of her neighbors, yet she didn't mind. She lifted his balls and began licking them clean, his shaft, his crown, and sucking the last of his cream from him. He was so thrilled with the intense warmth of her mouth, he came again, nearly filling her cheeks. I'd never seen my husband launch his cum like that, or Bev naked and hungry like that. When I approached, Bev was sharply bent over. I knelt behind her, spread her smooth cheeks and licked her wrinkled hole as my thumb pumped her pussy and spread her tangy juice around her anus. When I gently shifted her clit, she gifted me with a flood of her nectar. I fingered myself and mixed my juice with hers. The taste made me dizzy. She made Jake cum again and swallowed it all. I stood and settled my sex against her warm ass. Pam, still floating above them, rotated until her legs spread around me and I saw, then tasted her chilly, soaked pussy. Nearly as dense as when alive, I mumbled into her sweet-tasting pussy, "Yes, Yes. I accept. I want this pussy daily and I want all of you to feel free to visit us like this. We'll also have a monthly party for all of you. Thank you, Pam." Based on a post by LitEro Cat, for Literotica.

Ow.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Ow

In this episode of "Normal World," Dave Landau, 1/4 Black Garrett, and Angela open with reflections on the shocking tragedy involving Charlie Kirk. They consider how far America has fallen since the unity of September 11, 2001, examining the rise of political violence, the failures of leadership, and the cultural fractures pulling the country apart. The conversation then shifts to lighter ground with stories of rodeo life, bull riding, and the resilience that comes from growing up in demanding environments. The hosts trade experiences about childhood, country living, and encounters with Australia's unpredictable wildlife, from snakes and spiders to kangaroos. Later, the discussion turns reflective, weighing the pressures of America's nonstop hustle culture against the slower pace found abroad. The group explores family, parenting, and the importance of stepping back to value life beyond work. The show closes with a live studio performance of the new single “Ow in Cowboy,” performed by Shea Fisher. Today's guests on "Normal World" are Derek Richards and Shea Fisher. Sponsors Blue Chew Join BlueChew's mission to upgrade humanity one thrust at a time. Head to https://bluechew.com/ for details and safety info. As always, get your first month of BlueChew FREE Just use promo code NORMAL at checkout and pay five bucks for shipping. Lean If you want to lose meaningful weight at a healthy pace and keep it off... Add LEAN to your diet and exercise lifestyle. Get 20% OFF WHEN YOU ENTER NORMAL at www.takelean.com. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Joining Robert Pilot Kahomy Weston,new Dakota lifeways video series that Owámniyomni Okhódayapi is launching next week. And Robert Liligren NACDI

Ow.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

This week, our Global FX & EM strategists, Patrick Locke, Antonin Delair and Anezka Christovova discuss recent developments for the dollar, takeaways from our suite of systematic FX signals,  and what's behind our EM FX upgrade to OW this week. This podcast was recorded on 08 August 2025. This communication is provided for information purposes only. Institutional clients can view the related report at https://www.jpmm.com/research/content/GPS-5035130-0 , https://www.jpmm.com/research/content/GPS-5049466-0  for more information; please visit www.jpmm.com/research/disclosures for important disclosures. © 2025 JPMorgan Chase & Co. All rights reserved. This material or any portion hereof may not be reprinted, sold or redistributed without the written consent of J.P. Morgan. It is strictly prohibited to use or share without prior written consent from J.P. Morgan any research material received from J.P. Morgan or an authorized third-party (“J.P. Morgan Data”) in any third-party artificial intelligence (“AI”) systems or models when such J.P. Morgan Data is accessible by a third-party. It is permissible to use J.P. Morgan Data for internal business purposes only in an AI system or model that protects the confidentiality of J.P. Morgan Data so as to prevent any and all access to or use of such J.P. Morgan Data by any third-party.  

Joining Robert Pilot: Minnesota State Rep Heather Keeler, Kahomy Weston from Owámniyomni and Jalisa McKee

In light of the...everything...going on with Microsoft, we wanted to take a more positive spin from it since the negatives have been thoroughly covered by those suited to do so. That said, a link to the layoff news is below as a starting point, if you missed what's been going on. So if Microsoft is going to lay off every person they hired while still keeping Xbox going...who should they contract and pay to work on their games? Heck, who should PlayStation and Nintendo do this with as well? Look, when they lay off 9000 people during the 4th layoff in 2 years, we don't have much to work with in terms of "positive"... MORE PLACES TO FIND USCrubscribe ► https://bit.ly/CrubcastGet the show early and get exclusive content at our Patreon ► https://www.patreon.com/crubOur Crubcasts are recorded LIVE at https://www.twitch.tv/crub_official every Tuesday at 7pm Eastern, with EXCLUSIVE Pre- and Post-ShowsJoin our Discord ► https://crub.org/joinBlueSky ► https://bsky.app/profile/crub.orgCome join our Steam group ► https://steamcommunity.com/groups/crubclubPodcasts are available on Apple, Google, Spotify, and other platforms are available at ► https://crub.orgSHOW NOTESKevin's audio was weird this episode. Please do not bully him about it.Article on layoffs at Microsoft, Xbox:https://www.theverge.com/news/693535/microsoft-layoffs-july-2025-xboxArticle on Halo Studio's low morale, just to back that up:https://www.trueachievements.com/news/halo-devs-reportedly-unhappy-with-the-quality-next-gameThe "this guy" referred to at 29:00 is the Pale Man from Pan's Labyryinth, just so you know as an audio listener.Check out CRANKIN OUR HOGS here: https://www.patreon.com/c/crub/posts?filters%5Btag%5D=crankin+our+hogsTODAY'S CRUBCAST HOSTSBrody: https://www.youtube.com/@RACROXKevin: https://www.youtube.com/@TheGoldenBoltNicco: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCl56kbl3tb-KiGEHT7MUGUgCHAPTERS00:00 Hit new single, "Ow, my schmingus!" coming soon06:23 Brody kinda wants an IO Interactive Dishonored game12:49 If Toys For Bob ISN'T doing Spyro 4...22:04 You are not prepared for Nicco's galaxy brain31:07 The team that should bring us Sly 5 is...41:09 Successors that don't have a studio in the wings52:32 Funkin With PaRappa (Explicit)59:14 What have we learned today? ★ Support this podcast on Patreon ★

I want to hear your thoughts about the show and this episode. Text us here...In this raw and deeply personal episode, I share a story that stopped me in my tracks... being called an anti-Semite for standing up for what I believe in and for speaking up against Alligator Alcatraz. But instead of backing down, I want to lean into truth, integrity, and my own values.This is a reflection on the legacy of a woman who embodied true confidence: the unforgettable Hat Lady. From personal heartbreak to profound life lessons about generosity, resilience, and living in alignment with your values, this episode is a timely reminder that confidence isn't about being understood; it's about knowing who you are.As a life coach for women, I don't always get it right. I want to let others know it is okay to stand for what they believe. You will always have people who criticize you, attack you for your beliefs, and write you off as a crazy woman. Will it be easy? No... in the end, attacks say more about the other person than it does about you.That is their choice. Your choice is to stay true to your values. This is an invitation to join a supportive community of purpose-driven entrepreneurs who are creating an impact in the world.A mastermind is a community of peers who exchange ideas, provide support, and offer sound advice for running a successful business.Join the Confident YOU Mastermind now at https://goconfidentlyservices.myflodesk.com/confidentyoumastermindSupport the showOther helpful resources for you: For more about me and what I do, check out my website. Are you ready to get some help with:Podcast launch/re-launchPodcast growth, to increase your authority and position yourself as the thought leader you are. Or Leveraging your podcast to build your online biz and get more clientsSign up for a FREE 30 minute Confident Podcast Potential Discovery Call In this session I will: Identify the pain point that is holding you back. Suggest a next step strategy for solving the pain point.https://calendly.com/goconfidentlycoaching/30-minutes-free-coaching-sessioin Then we will talk about working together to accelerate the process. Do you want a podcast audit? Check out this link If you're looking for support to grow your business faster, be positioned as an authority in your industry, and impact the masses, schedule a call to explore if you'd be a good fit for one of my coaching programs. Thank you for listening to our podcast. Please Subscribe! ...

A race engineer, a driver coach, and a journalist walk into a bar on Memorial Day.“Ow,” says the journalist. (Figures. The other two were smart enough to use the door.)Is this an episode where we break down and analyze this year's Indy 500 and Monaco Grand Prix? Indeed! Did we do this exact same thing last year? Indeed! This show's format rotates weekly, because squirrel. We call this format “Ripped From the Headlines.”CLARIFICATION: Shortly after this ep was taped, IndyCar announced tech-violation penalties for this year's 500. Three finishers—Ericsson, Kirkwood, and Illot—lost their original finishing positions and were demoted down the field.RELATED TRIVIA: The Baird's Beaked Whale has 13 stomachs. A yak has four. A llama has three stomachs. Are these seemingly random bits of information related to this episode? Listen and find out! (Or don't. It's your choice, and we respect that.) This episode was produced by Mike Perlman.**Who We Are + Spicy Merch:⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠www.ItsNotTheCar.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠**Support It's Not the Car:Contribute on Patreon ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠www.patreon.com/notthecar⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠**Topic suggestions, feedback, questions? Let us know what you think!⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠INTCPod@gmail.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠**Check out Sam's book!⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠Smithology: Thoughts, Travels, and Semi-Plausible Car Writing, 2003–2023⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠**Where to find us:⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.instagram.com/intcpod⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.instagram.com/thatsamsmith/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.instagram.com/j.v.braun/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.instagram.com/rossbentley/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://rossbentley.substack.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://speedsecrets.com/⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠**ABOUT THE SHOW:It's Not the Car is a podcast about people and speed. We tell racing stories and leave out the boring parts.Ross Bentley is a former IndyCar driver, a bestselling author, and a world-renowned performance coach. Jeff Braun is a champion race engineer. Sam Smith is an award-winning writer and a former executive editor of Road & Track magazine.We don't love racing for the nuts and bolts—we love it for what it asks of the meatbag at the wheel.New episodes every Tuesday.

Ow.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Bible Reading: Luke 9:18-20"Ow!" yelped Avery. "Quit pinching me, Levi!" "It's St. Patrick's Day, and you're not wearing green," said Levi. "That means you get pinched!" "I am wearing green!" Avery insisted. "My shirt is green. You just can't see it because my sweater is covering it up." She turned to her mother. "Mom, why do people wear green on St. Patrick's Day?" "It's because he was from Ireland, the Emerald Isle," said Levi. "And St. Patrick found a four-leaf clover, which was green, and he drove all the snakes out of Ireland and--" "Hold on, Levi," said Mom. "Patrick actually grew up in England but was captured by Irish raiders as a teenager. He was a prisoner for several years and became a Christian during that time. When he finally escaped, he returned to England, but eventually went back to Ireland to tell people about Jesus." "But what about the stories of him finding four-leaf clovers and driving snakes out of Ireland?" asked Levi."Those are fables, though I've read that he used a three-leaf clover to help people understand the Trinity," said Mom. "Just because you hear people say things doesn't mean they're true. The truth often gets covered up by what people want to believe.""Like how Avery's sweater is hiding her green shirt?" asked Levi.Mom nodded. "It's not just St. Patrick's story that people get wrong. A lot of people believe wrong things about Jesus too. They think He was just a good man who was killed for standing up for what He believed, but that's not true at all. He was and is God, and He died to take the punishment for our sins and then rose again to give us eternal life. That's what the Bible tells us, and it's the truth." "And that's what Patrick went to tell the people in Ireland, right?" asked Levi. "Yes," said Mom. "He didn't go back to the land where he was held captive to tell people about a good man. He went back to tell them about the loving God who became human and died so they could be forgiven--and who helped Patrick forgive those who wronged him so they could know the truth. That's the true story of St. Patrick's day." –Jennifer Quakenbush How About You?What have you heard people say about Jesus? That He was just a good man? Or that He is God's Son who died on the cross for your sins? The Bible tells the true story. Jesus is God, and He loves you so much that He died and rose again to take away your sin and give you eternal life--and that's the truth! (To learn more, click the "Good News!" button in the right column of this page or go to www.keysforkids.org/goodnews.)Today's Key Verse:Here is a true statement that should be accepted without question: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, and I am the worst of them. (ERV) (1 Timothy 1:15 )Today's Key Thought:Jesus died for you