Podcasts about rustling

Matching Day: Part 2The struggle for honesty, and the grace to accept..Based on a post by SmallTownPrincess, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected."So, tell me about your family, Mason," Livia said, tracing the lines of his palm with one finger. How long had they been out there? Although it felt like she'd been with Mason for only a few minutes, at most, she was deathly afraid that dawn would break soon, and they would have to part ways, sneaking back into their respective beds."Oh, they're nothing special," he said with a shrug. "My father's done pretty well for us with inter-community trade, and my mother's a self-proclaimed busybody. I have two little sisters who must hate me, for all the grief they cause me, and a cat that only eats because I ask him to every day."Livia sympathized with the cat; she would follow Mason to the ends of the earth, if he asked her to and really meant it. She wouldn't tell him that, though. He still believed that the answer to all their problems was to run off into the wilderness and never look back."They must love you a lot, to plan a big wedding for you - and build you a house! My father expected my match to do that with his own two hands.""Nah, they mostly just like being a spectacle in town, and a big wedding's the best way to ensure that everyone's talking about you. As for the house, I'd rather build it myself, honestly. I feel like a child with them paving the way for me like this.""I'll bet Salvia's bragging to everyone who'll listen about her fairy-tale wedding and big stone house - at eighteen!"Mason shrugged, looking stormy. "She keeps asking me when we can have our first baby boy. A baby? I'm not ready for a baby. I could go another decade before I would even think about having kids. I'll be nineteen when we get married, for gods' sake.""Nineteen?""I barely missed the cutoff for the last age group, so I think I'm probably the oldest in ours."A chill wind snuck down Livia's collar, and she shuddered, enjoying Mason's immediate response of wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back up against his chest. She could get used to being held that way. She lay her head back against his shoulder, and he sighed happily."Mason?""Hmm?""Do you still intend to marry her?"He shook his head, tousling her hair where his chin rested on it. "That big house will be ours - yours and mine - or they can give it to one of my sisters, for all I care. All I want is you."The chuckling scream of an owl broke the silence of the night, foreboding as the lustrous moon lay silver-lined shadows over the pair. "What are we going to do, Mason?""What do you mean?""What are you we going to do? I mean, you're supposed to get married in a month, to Salvia, and I'm supposed to spend the rest of my life unhappy and alone. People are going to notice if either of those things don't happen.""We could tell them that I prefer you to Salvia, " Mason said doubtfully, and Livia didn't even bother to reply. That was clearly not an option. "Or we could run, like I said originally.""There's nowhere to run," Livia murmured."Then, I suppose, this is our only option.""What is?""This. Meetings, like this.""What, you mean you want to keep meeting me in secret like this?""Sure, why not?""Won't someone in Salvia's house notice that you sneak out every night?" Mason was living with Salvia's family until his own house was built in Micrague, but, to Salvia's dismay, he was not taking advantage of sleeping just down the hall from her."Probably not, and even if they do, I told them the very first day I went home with her that sometimes I preferred to sleep outside, under the stars." He chuckled. "They probably think I'm quite odd, but it really is nice, sometimes, to just lay out here and look up at them."Livia snuggled closer to him and followed his eyes up to the dancing points of light in the rich blue-violet night. "But then, what happens next month, when your family send word for you to come home with her?""Hmm, the guys from Micrague probably don't remember what my match looked like, and you could answer to Salvia for the rest of your life, ""But the girls who matched those boys would know I didn't match you. They'll definitely remember that I was the one who ended up with no one to love but a dead boy I never met.""Gods, Livia, I don't know," he said, sounding frustrated. "What do you want me to say? That this can only go on until I'm called home?""Can't it?""Maybe it'll have to stop when I'm called home," he said, then shook his head fiercely. "No. No, one way or another, I'm going to marry you someday, Livia Russing."Hearing her last name from his lips sent a jolt of reality through her system. "I don't know your last name, Mason," she said, eyes still fixed on the glittering treasure of the heavens."It's Griersley. Don't let that be the deciding point against me when you're deciding whether or not you want to marry me," he said with a grin."It's not bad.""Is bad enough.""But I still don't know you well enough to say that I love you, Mr. Griersley," she said, grinning a little herself. "For all I know, you could be an axe murderer.""Well, you've been alone with me for hours now. Have you seen any signs that I'm going to be a danger to you?"She giggled, then settled into seriousness. "No, I don't think you would hurt me."He was still in a silly mood, grabbing her lightly around the neck and cackling evilly. "Now I've got you, princess!" he said in a nasal, grating voice. "You only thought I asked you here because I'm falling for you. In fact, I'm a hideous villain, bent on killing the loveliest and most brilliant girls in every community. You're my next victim!"Livia laughed, twisting to kiss him again. It felt more natural every time their lips met; after hours of it, she felt like she'd been born to kiss him.Dawn bleached the horizon and made the trees stand like motionless skeletons. Livia savored the taste of Mason's lips on hers as she clambered back into bed, wishing her quilt-shrouded mattress was half as comfortable as his arms.With the promise of seeing him again that night, having him all to herself for hours and hours, she could make it through another day. She just wished night would come a little sooner.There were moments, in the next few weeks, that made Livia wonder if the gods were making up for tormenting her with Bracken's death by saturating every moment with exhilarating euphoria.Mason, his face glowing with the radiance of the simple joy her presence brought him, danced with her in the moon's spotlight, humming a song he made up on the spot, her twirling feet sending leaves spinning all around them and making the breeze whirl and seethe with jealousy.His teeth stood like pearly bits of star against his tan skin as he laughed, dipping her low enough that her hair brushed the dirt forest floor, then bringing her lightly back to her feet with an easy, undemanding kiss.Combing his fingers through her hair, he poured nonsense pieces of poetry into the night, laughing occasionally at a particularly horrible rhyme, calling for her to contribute as well. But she wouldn't interrupt the uninhibited rhythm of his deep, pleasant voice; she let his words roll pleasantly over her soul while his fingers did the same to her scalp.Electricity lanced the night as their lips mimicked each other's shape, and each of them drew life from the other's wholehearted ardor.Livia whispered, "I do, after all.""Do what?""Love you."Mason wrapped around her, keeping her warm as her discarded clothes could not. His lips were drawing a lazy line of kisses from her forehead down her nose, over her lips and onto her neck. He sucked gently at the spot where her neck ended and shoulder began, then dusted kisses across her collarbones.His hands ran lightly along her sides, fingers brushing her skin from tits to hips and back again. She brushed her fingers through his hair, tugged on it in a mute request for him to make his way back to her mouth and kiss her as he had been for weeks, but his mouth was quite busy venturing to previously unexplored territory.Mason's lips pressed against her sternum, and the softness just above her belly button, and then the softness just below. He shifted back onto his heels so he could more easily massage his way down her thighs and to her knees. Hungrily, he eyed her body."Mason?" She could barely manage the breath to whisper his name. Something was making her chest tight, making it hard to bring in air; she realized after a moment that it was fear. That was the thing with Mason ,  he frightened her. Not because he would ever hurt her, but because he looked at life and asked for more than he was given. He pushed boundaries.His fingers were testing her boundaries now, working their way back up the inside of her legs and finding the intersection of her legs. He bent low, kissing her thigh just south of where his fingers rested, and his breath was both hot and cold on her body. It made her suddenly aware of a dampness there she did not recognize."Mason," she said again, more forcefully this time, and his eyes met hers."Yes?"She licked her lips, trembling as he continued to breathe on her slick folds. "Are you planning to do what I think you're planning to do?""Only if you want it," Mason replied. He stared up at her for at least a minute before she realized she was meant to respond positively or negatively, but she had no answer. How could she think with his mouth practically pressed to her lips there? "Livia? Do you want to?""I, " She observed the tenderness with which he was stroking her thigh, and melted a bit. "Yes. Please."Mason grinned. He leaned in just a bit closer and touched his lips to her, then slid his tongue between her folds, trailing it up to the nub of her clitoris ,  she gasped and tried to keep from shuddering, not wanting to break the contact ,  and then down until he circled her slit. His eyes sought hers, looking for approval; he must have seen it in her face, because he began to move his tongue in earnest, sliding it up and down, then delving into her opening as deeply as he could.Livia squeezed her eyes shut to concentrate on the feelings, but the intensity gave her a sense of vertigo so intense she almost felt herself sliding along the forest floor, as though the world had tipped off its axis. She clutched at Mason's shoulders to steady herself, digging her nails in harder than she realized.As Mason's warm mouth moved against her most sensitive places, she began to feel something completely new. It was a need she had never experienced before, an urgent and desperate desire so foreign that she could hardly guess how to fulfill it. She would have thought that Mason's current activity would relieve it somehow, but it was only sharpening the edge on her hunger."Mason, I need;” she started. She wasn't sure how to finish. Mason stopped immediately, sensing her distress, sitting up and wiping his mouth."What? What do you need?""I don't, know." She spoke quietly, distractedly. When Mason sat up, he revealed the entirety of his nude form, and Livia found her attention drawn to his sizable manhood, standing at attention. She stared, beginning to get an idea of what it was she needed.Picking up on her thoughts as though she was speaking them aloud, Mason abandoned his eager, if inexperienced, efforts to please her with his mouth and bent to press his body against hers again. He held himself just far enough off her that his weight would not oppress her, but the full length of his feverishly warm body covered hers, and the full length of his member pressed against her mound, pulsing slightly with each heartbeat.Slowly, painfully slowly, Mason slid his hips down, pulling his cock down her body until the head rested just where her lower lips parted, and then gravity and her own moisture pulled it the rest of the way. It came to rest just where it belonged, against her opening."Is this what you want?" Mason asked. With his mouth on her throat as it was, she felt more than heard his words.She nodded, eyes closed. "Yes."There was really no pain. Livia was surprised; she had heard from other girls that it was quite unpleasant the first time, sometimes even traumatic, but perhaps they had not had such tender first lovers, or perhaps they had not been so achingly, drenchedly eager to have their lover inside them. Livia hadn't even been aware of how badly she wanted Mason within her until he was, and all her tension drained out of her with a long sigh."It's perfect," she said, marveling at the fit of him in her. They were made for each other.For many long minutes they were motionless, sharing each other ,  they were no longer two people, but a single entity, joined intimately."I'm yours, Livia." Mason's voice was husky, and Livia saw that it was costing him something to remain still, not to just claim her from the inside out; she saw also in the way he wrapped his arms tightly around her and squeezed as if he would never let go that he was happy to remain frozen in place and share the moment, happy even as he strained for more."And I'm yours. Take me, Mason."And he did.Eventually they fell asleep, still connected, and didn't wake until larks' songs began to break the stillness of the air with the dawn.Just when she thought nothing could be more perfect, more beautiful, the gods realized their carelessness in letting too much rapture concentrate in just two small hearts, and they began to set things back to rights.Livia picked her way through the now-familiar path from her house to their meeting place in the trees, stepping lightly over fallen branches and dodging snags and thorns with ease. She'd sat at her window all afternoon, watching the sun in its path, wishing it haste as it progressed toward the horizon. Her mother wondered what had gotten into her, but didn't mourn the change. It had been painful to see her daughter in such misery after Matching Day.Just a little ways now, she thought cheerfully, wanting to whistle but deciding that would be imprudent. The fear of what they were doing didn't eat at her anymore, and she could almost forget, in the flawless moments with Mason, that there was anything wrong in what they did. When she saw Salvia, her face did not burn with blood, as it did at the beginning, and she did not hunch her shoulders against imagined accusations as she crossed the town now.At the very moment it always seemed she had been walking too far, that she must have passed the clearing completely and needed to turn around, she saw Mason.He was standing much as he had been the first night they'd met here, his hands balled into fists in his pockets, his eyes on the sky, standing in what she now recognized was his tensest stance, directly in the center of the clearing. He was wholly illuminated by a moon that approached full, and she could see the glistening tracks of tears on both cheeks, the slightest quiver to his bottom lip. Pain spiked just beneath her breastbone as she wondered distressedly what had upset him."Mason?" she called, tumbling out of the trees and into his arms. He barely caught her as she tripped over the undergrowth, landing ungracefully against his chest, and when she looked up into his face, she had never seen such despair."You came," he said brokenly. "I hoped you wouldn't.""What?"Rustling footsteps all around them told of the presence of others, and Mason's hands tightened on her upper arms as if he could somehow squeeze her out of sight.Livia's head swiveled frantically from side to side as she tried to see each face as they appeared, grimacing, out of the shadows; at the front of them all, she saw Salvia's triumphant countenance.And Mason's eyes never l

Matching Day: Part 2The struggle for honesty, and the grace to accept..Based on a post by SmallTownPrincess, in 2 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected."So, tell me about your family, Mason," Livia said, tracing the lines of his palm with one finger. How long had they been out there? Although it felt like she'd been with Mason for only a few minutes, at most, she was deathly afraid that dawn would break soon, and they would have to part ways, sneaking back into their respective beds."Oh, they're nothing special," he said with a shrug. "My father's done pretty well for us with inter-community trade, and my mother's a self-proclaimed busybody. I have two little sisters who must hate me, for all the grief they cause me, and a cat that only eats because I ask him to every day."Livia sympathized with the cat; she would follow Mason to the ends of the earth, if he asked her to and really meant it. She wouldn't tell him that, though. He still believed that the answer to all their problems was to run off into the wilderness and never look back."They must love you a lot, to plan a big wedding for you - and build you a house! My father expected my match to do that with his own two hands.""Nah, they mostly just like being a spectacle in town, and a big wedding's the best way to ensure that everyone's talking about you. As for the house, I'd rather build it myself, honestly. I feel like a child with them paving the way for me like this.""I'll bet Salvia's bragging to everyone who'll listen about her fairy-tale wedding and big stone house - at eighteen!"Mason shrugged, looking stormy. "She keeps asking me when we can have our first baby boy. A baby? I'm not ready for a baby. I could go another decade before I would even think about having kids. I'll be nineteen when we get married, for gods' sake.""Nineteen?""I barely missed the cutoff for the last age group, so I think I'm probably the oldest in ours."A chill wind snuck down Livia's collar, and she shuddered, enjoying Mason's immediate response of wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back up against his chest. She could get used to being held that way. She lay her head back against his shoulder, and he sighed happily."Mason?""Hmm?""Do you still intend to marry her?"He shook his head, tousling her hair where his chin rested on it. "That big house will be ours - yours and mine - or they can give it to one of my sisters, for all I care. All I want is you."The chuckling scream of an owl broke the silence of the night, foreboding as the lustrous moon lay silver-lined shadows over the pair. "What are we going to do, Mason?""What do you mean?""What are you we going to do? I mean, you're supposed to get married in a month, to Salvia, and I'm supposed to spend the rest of my life unhappy and alone. People are going to notice if either of those things don't happen.""We could tell them that I prefer you to Salvia, " Mason said doubtfully, and Livia didn't even bother to reply. That was clearly not an option. "Or we could run, like I said originally.""There's nowhere to run," Livia murmured."Then, I suppose, this is our only option.""What is?""This. Meetings, like this.""What, you mean you want to keep meeting me in secret like this?""Sure, why not?""Won't someone in Salvia's house notice that you sneak out every night?" Mason was living with Salvia's family until his own house was built in Micrague, but, to Salvia's dismay, he was not taking advantage of sleeping just down the hall from her."Probably not, and even if they do, I told them the very first day I went home with her that sometimes I preferred to sleep outside, under the stars." He chuckled. "They probably think I'm quite odd, but it really is nice, sometimes, to just lay out here and look up at them."Livia snuggled closer to him and followed his eyes up to the dancing points of light in the rich blue-violet night. "But then, what happens next month, when your family send word for you to come home with her?""Hmm, the guys from Micrague probably don't remember what my match looked like, and you could answer to Salvia for the rest of your life, ""But the girls who matched those boys would know I didn't match you. They'll definitely remember that I was the one who ended up with no one to love but a dead boy I never met.""Gods, Livia, I don't know," he said, sounding frustrated. "What do you want me to say? That this can only go on until I'm called home?""Can't it?""Maybe it'll have to stop when I'm called home," he said, then shook his head fiercely. "No. No, one way or another, I'm going to marry you someday, Livia Russing."Hearing her last name from his lips sent a jolt of reality through her system. "I don't know your last name, Mason," she said, eyes still fixed on the glittering treasure of the heavens."It's Griersley. Don't let that be the deciding point against me when you're deciding whether or not you want to marry me," he said with a grin."It's not bad.""Is bad enough.""But I still don't know you well enough to say that I love you, Mr. Griersley," she said, grinning a little herself. "For all I know, you could be an axe murderer.""Well, you've been alone with me for hours now. Have you seen any signs that I'm going to be a danger to you?"She giggled, then settled into seriousness. "No, I don't think you would hurt me."He was still in a silly mood, grabbing her lightly around the neck and cackling evilly. "Now I've got you, princess!" he said in a nasal, grating voice. "You only thought I asked you here because I'm falling for you. In fact, I'm a hideous villain, bent on killing the loveliest and most brilliant girls in every community. You're my next victim!"Livia laughed, twisting to kiss him again. It felt more natural every time their lips met; after hours of it, she felt like she'd been born to kiss him.Dawn bleached the horizon and made the trees stand like motionless skeletons. Livia savored the taste of Mason's lips on hers as she clambered back into bed, wishing her quilt-shrouded mattress was half as comfortable as his arms.With the promise of seeing him again that night, having him all to herself for hours and hours, she could make it through another day. She just wished night would come a little sooner.There were moments, in the next few weeks, that made Livia wonder if the gods were making up for tormenting her with Bracken's death by saturating every moment with exhilarating euphoria.Mason, his face glowing with the radiance of the simple joy her presence brought him, danced with her in the moon's spotlight, humming a song he made up on the spot, her twirling feet sending leaves spinning all around them and making the breeze whirl and seethe with jealousy.His teeth stood like pearly bits of star against his tan skin as he laughed, dipping her low enough that her hair brushed the dirt forest floor, then bringing her lightly back to her feet with an easy, undemanding kiss.Combing his fingers through her hair, he poured nonsense pieces of poetry into the night, laughing occasionally at a particularly horrible rhyme, calling for her to contribute as well. But she wouldn't interrupt the uninhibited rhythm of his deep, pleasant voice; she let his words roll pleasantly over her soul while his fingers did the same to her scalp.Electricity lanced the night as their lips mimicked each other's shape, and each of them drew life from the other's wholehearted ardor.Livia whispered, "I do, after all.""Do what?""Love you."Mason wrapped around her, keeping her warm as her discarded clothes could not. His lips were drawing a lazy line of kisses from her forehead down her nose, over her lips and onto her neck. He sucked gently at the spot where her neck ended and shoulder began, then dusted kisses across her collarbones.His hands ran lightly along her sides, fingers brushing her skin from tits to hips and back again. She brushed her fingers through his hair, tugged on it in a mute request for him to make his way back to her mouth and kiss her as he had been for weeks, but his mouth was quite busy venturing to previously unexplored territory.Mason's lips pressed against her sternum, and the softness just above her belly button, and then the softness just below. He shifted back onto his heels so he could more easily massage his way down her thighs and to her knees. Hungrily, he eyed her body."Mason?" She could barely manage the breath to whisper his name. Something was making her chest tight, making it hard to bring in air; she realized after a moment that it was fear. That was the thing with Mason ,  he frightened her. Not because he would ever hurt her, but because he looked at life and asked for more than he was given. He pushed boundaries.His fingers were testing her boundaries now, working their way back up the inside of her legs and finding the intersection of her legs. He bent low, kissing her thigh just south of where his fingers rested, and his breath was both hot and cold on her body. It made her suddenly aware of a dampness there she did not recognize."Mason," she said again, more forcefully this time, and his eyes met hers."Yes?"She licked her lips, trembling as he continued to breathe on her slick folds. "Are you planning to do what I think you're planning to do?""Only if you want it," Mason replied. He stared up at her for at least a minute before she realized she was meant to respond positively or negatively, but she had no answer. How could she think with his mouth practically pressed to her lips there? "Livia? Do you want to?""I, " She observed the tenderness with which he was stroking her thigh, and melted a bit. "Yes. Please."Mason grinned. He leaned in just a bit closer and touched his lips to her, then slid his tongue between her folds, trailing it up to the nub of her clitoris ,  she gasped and tried to keep from shuddering, not wanting to break the contact ,  and then down until he circled her slit. His eyes sought hers, looking for approval; he must have seen it in her face, because he began to move his tongue in earnest, sliding it up and down, then delving into her opening as deeply as he could.Livia squeezed her eyes shut to concentrate on the feelings, but the intensity gave her a sense of vertigo so intense she almost felt herself sliding along the forest floor, as though the world had tipped off its axis. She clutched at Mason's shoulders to steady herself, digging her nails in harder than she realized.As Mason's warm mouth moved against her most sensitive places, she began to feel something completely new. It was a need she had never experienced before, an urgent and desperate desire so foreign that she could hardly guess how to fulfill it. She would have thought that Mason's current activity would relieve it somehow, but it was only sharpening the edge on her hunger."Mason, I need;” she started. She wasn't sure how to finish. Mason stopped immediately, sensing her distress, sitting up and wiping his mouth."What? What do you need?""I don't, know." She spoke quietly, distractedly. When Mason sat up, he revealed the entirety of his nude form, and Livia found her attention drawn to his sizable manhood, standing at attention. She stared, beginning to get an idea of what it was she needed.Picking up on her thoughts as though she was speaking them aloud, Mason abandoned his eager, if inexperienced, efforts to please her with his mouth and bent to press his body against hers again. He held himself just far enough off her that his weight would not oppress her, but the full length of his feverishly warm body covered hers, and the full length of his member pressed against her mound, pulsing slightly with each heartbeat.Slowly, painfully slowly, Mason slid his hips down, pulling his cock down her body until the head rested just where her lower lips parted, and then gravity and her own moisture pulled it the rest of the way. It came to rest just where it belonged, against her opening."Is this what you want?" Mason asked. With his mouth on her throat as it was, she felt more than heard his words.She nodded, eyes closed. "Yes."There was really no pain. Livia was surprised; she had heard from other girls that it was quite unpleasant the first time, sometimes even traumatic, but perhaps they had not had such tender first lovers, or perhaps they had not been so achingly, drenchedly eager to have their lover inside them. Livia hadn't even been aware of how badly she wanted Mason within her until he was, and all her tension drained out of her with a long sigh."It's perfect," she said, marveling at the fit of him in her. They were made for each other.For many long minutes they were motionless, sharing each other ,  they were no longer two people, but a single entity, joined intimately."I'm yours, Livia." Mason's voice was husky, and Livia saw that it was costing him something to remain still, not to just claim her from the inside out; she saw also in the way he wrapped his arms tightly around her and squeezed as if he would never let go that he was happy to remain frozen in place and share the moment, happy even as he strained for more."And I'm yours. Take me, Mason."And he did.Eventually they fell asleep, still connected, and didn't wake until larks' songs began to break the stillness of the air with the dawn.Just when she thought nothing could be more perfect, more beautiful, the gods realized their carelessness in letting too much rapture concentrate in just two small hearts, and they began to set things back to rights.Livia picked her way through the now-familiar path from her house to their meeting place in the trees, stepping lightly over fallen branches and dodging snags and thorns with ease. She'd sat at her window all afternoon, watching the sun in its path, wishing it haste as it progressed toward the horizon. Her mother wondered what had gotten into her, but didn't mourn the change. It had been painful to see her daughter in such misery after Matching Day.Just a little ways now, she thought cheerfully, wanting to whistle but deciding that would be imprudent. The fear of what they were doing didn't eat at her anymore, and she could almost forget, in the flawless moments with Mason, that there was anything wrong in what they did. When she saw Salvia, her face did not burn with blood, as it did at the beginning, and she did not hunch her shoulders against imagined accusations as she crossed the town now.At the very moment it always seemed she had been walking too far, that she must have passed the clearing completely and needed to turn around, she saw Mason.He was standing much as he had been the first night they'd met here, his hands balled into fists in his pockets, his eyes on the sky, standing in what she now recognized was his tensest stance, directly in the center of the clearing. He was wholly illuminated by a moon that approached full, and she could see the glistening tracks of tears on both cheeks, the slightest quiver to his bottom lip. Pain spiked just beneath her breastbone as she wondered distressedly what had upset him."Mason?" she called, tumbling out of the trees and into his arms. He barely caught her as she tripped over the undergrowth, landing ungracefully against his chest, and when she looked up into his face, she had never seen such despair."You came," he said brokenly. "I hoped you wouldn't.""What?"Rustling footsteps all around them told of the presence of others, and Mason's hands tightened on her upper arms as if he could somehow squeeze her out of sight.Livia's head swiveled frantically from side to side as she tried to see each face as they appeared, grimacing, out of the shadows; at the front of them all, she saw Salvia's triumphant countenance.And Mason's eyes never l

The Jay Thomas Show from Tuesday April 15th, 2025.  Guests include Michelle Turnberg and Dr. Mike from Red River Wellness as well as your calls and emails.

Putting lives back together after the battle.By FinalStand. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.Either you embrace Change and are destroyed by it, or you resist Change and are overwhelmed by it. What is your choice? (The Politics of 'Not' Being Dead)The rest of the trip was made in silence. They dropped us off at the edge of Miercurea Ciuc, home base of the 61st Mountain Troops Brigade, of Professor Loma and from whence all this craziness had originated. The meeting was already awkward before I arrived. It only got worse. Where to begin? Well, Russia, the United States, the UK, Romania, Hungary and Ireland were now all interested parties. And I had gained two personal distinctions:1.) Not only was I now heralded (and not really joking anymore) by some sources as Magyarorszag es Erdely Hercege, I was thereby re-awakening old nationalistic and territorial fears. Hungary didn't want a Prince, yet they did have an anemic Monarchist party. I might not be a Hapsburg (the last royal house of Hungary), but I could possibly be misconstrued as a long-lost Árpád scion (first King and founder of the Hungarian state), which would be even better.A crisis was looming in my ancestral crucible. It seems I already had a webpage in Budapest and six hundred "friends" within 24 hours. Worse, they had some pictures of me. Besides being 'of regal bearing' in the descriptions, I was sexy-hot and a soldier of fortune, a modern day 'Wild Geese, (Goose?)' who was wanted for questioning in a, or perhaps multiple, murder(s) involving either a duel over a woman's honor or killing a dozen armed gangsters who prayed on young innocents newly arrived to the big city.I wasn't alone. My trusty companion was A.) an ascetic Jedi Mistress (my own, personal Yoda), B.) an ancient witch schooled in the necromantic arts (apparently the reason I couldn't die), or C.) a Cold-War Era SMERSH (too much James Bond) assassin repaying an old debt to the descendent of an anti-communist partisan she'd killed years ago, eerily close to the truth for once. That, plus the TEK investigation, were Hungary's main points of concern involving me.2.) I was now a person involved in significant events for half a dozen nations on the world scene.Let's start with Romania. Okay, foremost, I was responsible for the single deadliest day in modern (post-WWII) Romanian Land Forces history. There was no covering this up. Close to one hundred men and women had died in combat, and then you added the forty-some dead Amazons, many of them apparently tortured, and this was a political and public relations nightmare.No one doubted their troops behaved heroically. That wasn't the problem. The political conundrum was how could they explain Ajax and his fifty seasoned killers penetrating into central Romania with no one being aware of the danger? A few politicians wanted to blame Székely nationalists (by that, they meant the ethnic minority who 'vaguely' wanted Transylvania to rejoin Hungary), except they had me, the Hungarian Prince, leading the charge.Life would have been so much easier for them if I had died. Yes, I could read the minds of those politicians. Screw a girl, then her younger sister, and then his wife, who all say they love me, and you'll recognized the emotional intent a father directs your way. (I'd only done that once, and once was enough.) I was getting that vibe again.Unfortunately for them, I wasn't dead and three big time foreign governments (and Ireland) seemed really curious about me, my performance and my mortality. So dragging me out back for a firing squad wasn't going to happen. Riki Martin of the US State Department was there and she told me a representative of the US Military Mission was on his way up to debrief me. Russia's sexy military attaché was still on site and looking happy for some reason. Flaviu, who had some experience with me, was soon to be gone; replaced by some person who had some serious lettuce before his actual name and didn't know me from didly. Not good.The UK had one of their diplomats coming up as well, just so I didn't get lonely. They weren't driving up with the Irishman, or the American. No one considers their carbon footprint in a crisis, I swear. But wait! It gets better. My Romanian Special Force dudes had brought the rest of their company (around a hundred new buddies) with them, they seriously didn't want me to get homesick and wander off (because, you know, I liked living and freedom).The Romanian army shouldn't have worried. It seemed that there were some US Army Rangers with NATO in Kosovo, Albania, or Bosnia and Uncle Sam was expressing a desire for them to 'stop by'. Maybe they could share their C-130 with the British paratroopers who were equally concerned about my well-being. I just hoped everyone was going to play nice when the Spetsnaz arrived. Putin was suddenly (and surprisingly to me, anyway) my new pal. I had a feeling I'd soon be discovering my secret Russian heritage if I wasn't careful. I was thinking maybe I could squeeze an Order of Lenin, or a Hero of the Soviet Union out of him. I heard they both looked nice, were obsolete and came without an actual pension.If Katrina wouldn't let me write off this calamity as PTO, I was going to be irate. I was on the verge of having a large family to support after all, unless you considered me marrying a billionaire's heiress to be compensation enough. The only group involved who weren't trying to actually see me was the Khanate.Temujin most likely had some shamanistic mojo that would let him know if I croaked. That bit smacked of paganism, so it was kept under wraps because he had to appear dutifully Islamic for the masses. Still, some koumiss would have been nice. Heck, right then I could have gone for an 'atta boy', perhaps even a 'two thumbs up'.Oh yeah; the general of the 4th Romanian Division wanted me to stop by when I had the chance (if I didn't, he'd send men to kill me, or so it was insinuated). The 61st Mountain Troops was part of his division's combat command and if the General Staff went looking for someone to crucify, he was making damn sure it wasn't going to be him.It occurred to me that I could send a handsome-looking Spetsnaz (if there was such a thing) to go in my place. They were brother Slavs, right? I was sure that between the 'Fall of the Berlin Wall', Moldavian Independence and Romania joining NATO, they would have much to discuss. Out of the blue, Pamela smacked me on the back of my head, Jethro Gibbs' style. My 'more-evil Russian doppelganger' idea must have been poorly thought out.Before I could implement that silliness, or trigger the big brouhaha, there was a preamble: I had three compatriots. Of greater importance, I had three heavily armed/gravely-serious bodyguards who wouldn't surrender their weapons and/or abandon me. So I thought "play nice" thoughts to myself.Diplomacy, sovereignty and legality all reared their ugly heads. I wasn't really an Irish diplomat. My paperwork was still valid, but the Romanian government hadn't permitted my entry into their country under the standard diplomatic protocols. Ireland wanted to talk to me about that, why was I running around armed and killing people in two Central European countries? I was acting more like an Irish adventurer from the 17th century, than a genteel civil servant from the 21st.Then there was the niggling little complication that involved me, my friends and our criminal possession of military-grade hardware. Chaz had the dubious excuse of being an official British government agent on assignment. That meant he could hope for a prisoner exchange within the next decade. Rachel and Pamela were private citizens with painfully sketchy proofs of US citizenship.When the Romanian legal system finished buggering them, it would be off to Hungry and its serious inquiry into all the dead bodies we'd left in our wake. Who was I kidding? What I was really worrying about was how many members of the Romanian penal system would die when they escaped. Their flimsy identities gave no clue to how dangerous they actually were. Hell, they'd beat me home.I had the added difficulty of Ireland and their questions about who the fuck I was and why I had their gold filigree on something I didn't deserve sitting snugly in my back pocket.So first off, this new band of 'Eagles' wanted to disarm and separate us."Don't insult me," I scoffed. "I am your Prince. Don't make me explain it to your widow.""I'm not married," the Lieutenant snarled back, daring me."Well, rush out and marry somebody. I haven't got all day. We don't want me to be caught in an idle boast now do we?" I grinned. Verbal sparring apparently wasn't in his repertoire."What?""Shut the fuck up, Carl," Chaz blithely inserted himself into the conversation."But you don't even speak Romanian," I countered. "How do you even know what I said?" The Romanians didn't know English, but they knew Carl. The tension between us ebbed."By the expression on the officer's face, Hercege," he winked. "It's universal to the brotherhood.""Who is he with?" The officer questioned me."You and he are the same," I answered."You cannot go any farther armed," he returned to his mission parameters."I don't envy you going in and telling the Colonel to come out here, but so be it," I held my ground."We could kill you and take them off your corpses," he studied my reaction."You are the second handsome man to tell me that today," I shook my head. "I'll tell you what I told him: 'you sure are cute, just not my type'." Pause then laughter."You are a madman," the lieutenant snorted. "I'll go talk to the Colonel."I was a jerk, loved maidens and was a master of bullshit. Did that make me a modern day Minotaur? The lieutenant came back out, then ushered me inside; Riki had to wait for the moment. He motioned my team come along. In the staff room of the 61st were a handful of officers and several suits."Mr. Nyilas," the Colonel gazed upon me. "I don't know what to make of you.""You and my Mother both," I mumbled. Despite the somber atmosphere, a few of the men and women let their moods lighten. They didn't hold my levity against me. I'd been there, on the battlefield and if humor was how I dealt with the experience, so be it."Ha," the greying man mused. "It is wholly my fault that I disregard most of the information you supplied my staff. You were unerringly accurate in your assessment of our enemy's capabilities. I know my men and I know how good they are. Veteran commanders can barely describe what my troops endured. You warned us and I didn't believe you. I was wrong and my men died because of it," he sighed."Sir, I do not believe you could have done anything else and succeeded," I interrupted."Succeeded? Is this what you consider success?" he hardened."Absolutely, Sir. Had you been slower to respond, those men would have most likely come here, to Miercurea Ciuc, and you would have fought the same battle, except your civilians would have been caught in the mix," I lied.If Ajax had escaped he'd have hunted me down. The location would have been irrelevant to him. How he knew where to be was a question for later and something to be presented to smarter, more experienced minds."Perhaps," he allowed. "They were heading north when we encountered them.The Alal in me was going back over the plan. It had been sound."Sir, you had every reason to doubt my military experience and to believe I exaggerated the threat. I was right and I take no joy in that, nor do I think anyone can hold your decisions against you," I stated.Now he gave a bitter laugh. Yes, they could hold all the deaths against him."We both know your men and women didn't die for their country, they killed for it. Quite frankly, I believe they killed some of the most vicious creatures to ever walk the face of the Earth. Fuck them for taking so many of us. Pile their bodies up and burn them," I suggested."They deserve no more Romanian soil than a spot to inter their ashes," I concluded."You do not sound like any diplomat I've ever met," the Colonel regained his gruff exterior."I'm not. I'm a fraud. I know as much about Ireland as I do about being a prince," I confessed. "That said, I didn't come here to kill anyone. I came to save lives.""How has that worked out for you?" a sitting woman in a suit questioned, in Romanian. She was slender, waspish and didn't sound comfortable speaking English, though she knew enough to get by."I am not a fortune-teller. I don't know how this is going to work out," I said."That's not what I asked," she prodded."Yes it was," I corrected her. "You wanted to know if I thought the price of your dead countrymen was worth the life of me, my friends and the lives of your countrymen I came to save. I can't measure the promise of those lives against the loss of all the dead. Don't play games with me. I'm have a degree in Philosophy and I eat morally ambiguous people like you for lunch."Pamela laughed aloud and lively."Kimberly and Katrina would be so proud of you right now," she chortled."I don't think you grasp the deep pit your find yourself in, Friend" the suit stayed chillingly calm."Oh, I think we all know we both screwed the pooch big time," I smirked. "The difference is me and mine are all happy to be alive after two of the most trying, fun-filled days of our lives. You want to throw us in prison. The Hungarians want to throw us in prison. I'm sure if I get back to the States, they will want to put us in prison too. Have I missed anyone?""I'm glad you will confess. It will make it easier on us," she grinned like sexy weasel."Wait," Rachel put a restraining arm on me. "I've wanted to say this for some time." To the weasel, "Blow it out your ass, dipshit.""Rachel, you don't know what she said," Pamela faux-gasped."I don't know the words, but I know what he meant," Rachel glowered. She missed Charlotte so much, she was willing to court pain and death. "I want to go back in time and slap her mother repeatedly for not strangling her in the crib. Is that succinct enough?""I apologize for ever meeting you, Rachel. I've brought you to a bad end," I gave her a tender look."It's okay. I never thought I'd live long enough to sleep with you anyway," she smiled back.Phifft, sigh. It was so sad that I recognized the sound of a low-caliber, silenced round."Listen up, dipshit," Pamela snickered. "Good one, Rachel. If you don't believe the next one is going through your skull, you clearly haven't been listening to us. You are fucking with the wrong monkeys. You have this bizarre idea that if I kill you, your government won't replace your worthless, bullet-riddled hide with someone we find more agreeable. My grandson sent in motion a half million combatants a few hours ago, he nearly died leading your soldiers against your nation's enemies and you want him to kiss your shoes as if you matter at all in the grand scheme of things?" she snarled. "Think again."No one was moving because Pamela had her silenced 22 Beretta out and pointed at Weasel's head. The SF's were caught flat-footed, as was everyone else. No guards came rushing in because the closed doors further muffled the sound. "I think this is a good time for us to get a drink," Chaz advised as he slowly reached out and lowered Pamela's gun hand.It was Pamela's gunboat diplomacy yet again. She hadn't meant to kill the women. Hell, she'd been a random target of opportunity. What Pamela had done was clear up the doubts in the room. Everyone on the staff could self-consciously let themselves off the hook for not being in the front lines, risking themselves with their comrades. Thanks to Pamela, they too had confronted violence.'Crazy' Grandma had fired off her piece and everyone sighed with relief when Chaz got her to lower it. I was pretty sure Chaz was in on this dangerous game. It resided with the Colonel as to how to resolve this hiccup in our dispute."Mr. Nyilas, why don't we take a walk outside, just the two of us?" he 'requested'.I nodded because I'm not always as dumb as I look. He was letting my people off with incredible temperance and I could honorably send them away. They'd scoped out the scene and believed I'd be safe enough. He, in turn, had an excuse to take a step away from his political watchdogs."I think that is for the best," I nodded. "Do you want me to leave my guns behind?""No, Mr. Nyilas, we might run into trouble out there and one of my Captains has suggested you are a man who can take care of himself," he replied. That was very nice of him indeed. If I did do something stupid, he had a ton of troops about who would make my regrets rather temporary. I decided to behave as if I had a passing acquaintance with sanity.His first questions were about the fighting at the ruins. I peppered our exchange with my interest in what had happened to the advance force of the 22nd. It was bleak news, yet the Colonel felt a sense of relief. He was coming to accept the lethality of his enemies, which in turn, led to an understanding, if not acceptance, of the carnage his men had been subjected to.He was in a cycle of context, grief, context. He'd gambled on me and men died. Once the battle was joined though, his soldiers had done precisely the right thing under considerable stress. He could be proud without dishonoring the dead. Only Pamela and I had engaged Ajax earlier. Only I had talked with the man.The Colonel had to look into my eyes to get the spark that led to understanding the mind and ruthlessness of his opponent. The name 'Ajax' never came up. That was more than a rational mind could accept at the moment. He knew his men had fought and killed the best and that helped him cope a tiny bit. Our interview ended when the first of the unwanted guests arrived.Only when I walked inside did it occur to me that this had been my first soldier to soldier chat. We had respected one another and discussed matters like men who knew the score. That was depressing in its own right. It was well passed nightfall when we went back inside. In our absence, Riki had started to redeem my existence. My salvation lay in Romantic Americana Symbolism.Translation: I was a Horatio Alger, a working class kid raised by a widower father, who earned a scholarship to a quiet New England college, graduated near the top of my class and gotten an excellent job (salary and benefits not disclosed). That was the was the first part of the Americana, proof positive that America was still the land of opportunity and a place where poor children could still reach the highest levels of society (umm, okay?).The second Americana Part: my Father had been murdered in a case of mistaken identity. Those heavily-armed foreign corporate/rogue governmental-sponsored terrorist mercenaries (their exact origin was shrouded in double-dealing misinformation) had ruthlessly murdered my Pa to cover up their error. Like any true Son of the American Dream, I had sworn vengeance.The Symbolic Part: My compassionate, understanding government (the good governmental servants of Republican Democracy, not the bad, hires the covert, secret, black-bag, unaccountable private contractors/ pawns of the Wall Street Elite bureaucrats) allowed me to participate in a multi-national taskforce. These selfless guardians of the freedom had formed a coalition which had hunted down the villains.With the priceless assistance of two Central European countries, who currently had to remain nameless (cough: Hungary and Romania), we'd achieved a final, violent confrontation in which my allies and I had emerged bloody, scarred, yet victorious. Once more, free men and women had answered the call of duty and some had made the ultimate sacrifice.See, I had a good government that cared enough about me to let me become a gun-toting menace to the civilized world. Like a Hollywood Western hero of the 1950's, 60's and 70's, I had taken personal revenge against the forces of wickedness, exit the railroad tycoons and cattle barons, enter the shadowy world of private security forces and uncontrolled corporate capitalism.

ASMR Rustling and Crinkle Sounds (Shredded Tissue, Packing Peanuts)Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

ASMR Rustling and Crinkle Sounds (Shredded Tissue, Packing Peanuts)Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

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The guys open the podcast talking about Halloween & weekend stuff. Then it's on to the nights beers, and some talk about what's going on in the MLS playoffs. They then discuss the Loons two shoot out wins versus RSL in the first round of the MLS playoffs. They discuss the defensive form of the Loons in the first game, and question why Boxy was third in the shoot out. They then talk about game two, which included the atmosphere of the Allianz Field, many chances in the first half, a well deserved Rosales goal, RSL with the comeback, going to the shoot out, DSC making saves, kickers air mailing kicks, and Sang Bin putting away the game winner. Then it's on to MN soccer history, and they end the podcast with a story about a woman in Bloomington who stole a sheep.

Fluent Fiction - Serbian: Love in the Rustling Leaves: A Heartfelt Autumn Encounter Find the full episode transcript, vocabulary words, and more:fluentfiction.org/love-in-the-rustling-leaves-a-heartfelt-autumn-encounter Story Transcript:Sr: Јесење сунце једва је пробијало кроз густе златне крошње Калемегданског парка.En: The autumn sun barely pierced through the thick golden canopies of Kalemegdan Park.Sr: Милан је водио свог пса, Марка, стазама покривеним шуштањем сувог лишћа.En: Milan was leading his dog, Marko, along paths covered with the rustling of dry leaves.Sr: Увек је уживао у овој шетњи, али уједно је осећао и ону познату празнину.En: He always enjoyed this walk, but he also felt that familiar emptiness.Sr: Било му је доста самоће.En: He was fed up with loneliness.Sr: Док је Марко трчао напред, Милан је приметио весели смех.En: As Marko ran ahead, Milan noticed cheerful laughter.Sr: То је била Ана.En: It was Ana.Sr: Ана је водила свог пса, Лару, златног ретривера, и насмејано посматрала како се псињаци радују у игри.En: Ana was walking her dog, Lara, a golden retriever, and cheerfully watching as the dogs joyfully played.Sr: Ана је увек била пуна живота, несвесна свог шарма који је привлачио људе.En: Ana was always full of life, unaware of her charm that attracted people.Sr: Њена оптимистичка природа чинила је да се свет чини лепшим местом.En: Her optimistic nature made the world seem like a better place.Sr: "Здраво," Милан је промрмљао када је пришао довољно близу.En: "Hello," Milan mumbled when he got close enough.Sr: Његов глас је на тренутак изгубљен у звуковима парка.En: His voice was momentarily lost in the park's sounds.Sr: "А, здраво, Милане!" одговорила је Ана с осмехом.En: "Oh, hello, Milan!" Ana replied with a smile.Sr: "Како си данас?"En: "How are you today?"Sr: Речи су мрзовољно излазиле из Миланових уста.En: Words grudgingly escaped Milan's lips.Sr: Чудило га је како Ана успева да у његовом срцу буди толико топлине.En: It baffled him how Ana managed to stir so much warmth in his heart.Sr: Разговарали су кратко, размјењући неколико речи о својим псима и времену.En: They chatted briefly, exchanging a few words about their dogs and the weather.Sr: Али сваки њихов разговор за Милана је био корак ближе ка нечему што је дуго прижељкивао - блиском пријатељству, можда чак и љубави.En: But every conversation with Ana was a step closer for Milan to something he had long wished for—a close friendship, maybe even love.Sr: Дани су пролазили, а Милан је све више осећао како га привлачи Ана, али његова стидљивост га је спутавала.En: Days passed, and Milan found himself increasingly drawn to Ana, but his shyness held him back.Sr: Ана је често журила, живот ју је заузимао другим обавезама.En: Ana often hurried off, taken by other obligations in life.Sr: Ипак, увек су налазили тренутке за своје шетње парком.En: Still, they always found moments for their walks in the park.Sr: Једног дана, док су њихови пси поскочили на месту где се стаза раздвајала, Милан је дубоко удахнуо.En: One day, as their dogs jumped at the spot where the path divided, Milan took a deep breath.Sr: "Ана", почео је, "хтео сам да те питам... Да ли би ишла са мном на кафу после ове шетње?"En: "Ana," he began, "I wanted to ask you... Would you like to join me for a coffee after this walk?"Sr: Ана је застала, изненађена, али у њеним очима заблистала је радост.En: Ana paused, surprised, but joy sparkled in her eyes.Sr: "Наравно, волела бих," одговорила је неустрашиво.En: "Of course, I'd love to," she replied fearlessly.Sr: Провели су сатима у кафићу на углу, делећи приче из свог живота.En: They spent hours in a café on the corner, sharing stories from their lives.Sr: Милан је по први пут отварао срце о својим сновима и мислима, док је Ана делила своје љубави према малим животним радостима као што су јесење шетње и добри пријатељи.En: Milan, for the first time, opened his heart about his dreams and thoughts, while Ana shared her love for life's small joys, such as autumn walks and good friends.Sr: Открили су да деле исте интересе, и то их је спојило више него што су очекивали.En: They discovered they shared the same interests, which connected them more than they had expected.Sr: Након свега, договорили су се да се опет сретну, овај пут не само у парку.En: After all, they agreed to meet again, this time not just in the park.Sr: Милан је осетио како се у њему рађа нова храброст и отвореност.En: Milan felt a new courage and openness blossoming within him.Sr: Његова усамљеност полако је уступала место новим, топлим осећањима.En: His loneliness slowly gave way to new, warm feelings.Sr: Ана је, пак, у Милану нашла некога ко цени све оно што она види у свету.En: Ana, meanwhile, found in Milan someone who appreciated everything she saw in the world.Sr: И тако, Калемегдански парк био је сведок почетка њихове приче, фасцинантне и искрене, као што то само правдају тренуци опоравка љубави у јесен.En: And so, Kalemegdan Park witnessed the beginning of their story, fascinating and sincere, just like the moments of love's revival in the fall. Vocabulary Words:pierced: пробијалоcanopies: крошњеrustling: шуштањемemptiness: празнинуloneliness: самоћеcheerful: веселиretriever: ретривераcharm: шармаoptimistic: оптимистичкаgrudgingly: мрзовољноbaffled: чудилоwarmth: топлинеshyness: стидљивостobligations: обавезамаsparkled: заблисталаfearlessly: неустрашивоcorner: углуblossoming: рађањеfascinating: фасцинантнеwitnessed: сведокrevival: опоравкаsincere: искренеhastily: журилаappreciated: цениоdreams: сновимаinterests: интересеjoyfully: радујуobstacles: спутавалаsurprised: изненађенаcourage: храброст

ASMR Rustling and Crinkle Sounds (Shredded Tissue, Packing Peanuts)Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Rustling up some of our favorite channels

Original Air Date: May 05, 1939Host: Andrew RhynesShow: The Lone RangerPhone: (707) 98 OTRDW (6-8739) Stars:• Earle Graser (Lone Ranger)• John Todd (Tonto) Writer:• Fran Striker Producer:• George W. Trendle Music:• Ben Bonnell Exit music from: Roundup on the Prairie by Aaron Kenny https://bit.ly/3kTj0kK

Original Air Date: May 05, 1939Host: Andrew RhynesShow: The Lone RangerPhone: (707) 98 OTRDW (6-8739) Stars:• Earle Graser (Lone Ranger)• John Todd (Tonto) Writer:• Fran Striker Producer:• George W. Trendle Music:• Ben Bonnell Exit music from: Roundup on the Prairie by Aaron Kenny https://bit.ly/3kTj0kK

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Send us a Text Message.“Surround yourself with people who can help guide you, and tell the story as best you can; safely put yourself in places where you might learn a little bit more about your story, and do not give up on yourself.”In this week's episode, we dive into the world of true crime storytelling with the remarkable Pepper Anne, a talented author with a passion for shedding light on untold stories. Pepper Anne shares her journey of writing her book, "The Notorious Texas Swindler," a captivating true crime tale about her own family member's involvement in cattle wrestling, daring jailbreaks, and webs of deception. As we listen to Pepper Anne's story, we'll discover the challenges she faced while writing this book, including threats, hacking, and the intricate balance of portraying her family's history. Join us as we explore the resilience, dedication, and determination that drives Pepper Anne's powerful storytelling, and gain insights into the world of true crime writing. Connect with Pepper Anne:Pepper Annehttps://twitter.com/pepper_authorhttps://www.facebook.com/PepperAnneGetsTheScoopSupport the Show.Visit the Have A Seat website for more conversations or Have A Seat with me and register to be a guest at: www.haveaseatconversations.com.Thanks for listening!

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 Welcome back to the Osee Pokemon Podcast! Jess suggests to get some Dank Water Pokemon, Kurt bluffs his way to success, Abigail gets high while getting higher, and Jenny protects Umi, the Bellossom. Big Thank You to my cousin, Christine for joining us!  Please support us at our Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/OseePKMNPodWe have a Discord Channel! Come hang out with us! https://discord.gg/5DhdTyKp6UStringManPlays is our wonderful, lifelong friend!https://www.twitch.tv/stringmanplaysGenecute.id Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/p/CZ5xxurPqMA/We are no longer affiliated with Oliver Hamlin or Oliver Hamlin Illustration.  https://www.fesliyanstudios.com/ for BG Music and Sound FX!      “Long intense stomach growl 6” by SamanthaCastleberry of Freesound.org“small dog eats pieces of cucumber and carrot” by druki of Freesound.org“tools rummaging through tools ext metal debris.wav” by kyles of Freesound.org“RustlingFabric.wav” by SamRam21 of Freesound.org“yeahhhhhhhhhh.wav” by StudioOneBeatMakers of Freesound.org“G22-01-Riverboat.wav” by craigsmith of Freesound.org“rushing river in the woods” by CastleofSamples of Freesound.org“calm DownTownPark LunchTime 140923_0414.ogg” by klankbeeld of Freesound.org“mud squish” by jymdavis of Freesound.org“Water Dripping in Cave.wav” by Sclolex of Freesound.org“Fishing Rod Cast - Swoosh” by mwchristian95 of Freesound.org“Fly Fishing Reel Running_3.wav” by paulprit of Freesound.org“Hang up Hang down phone.wav” by davidferoli of Freesound.org“Outgoing Call” by cmcdowell1 of Freesound.org“Texting.wav” by Razzvio of Freesound.org“SFX_Coin_Bag_Drops” by PoundSoundUK of Freesound.org“Heavy Impacts” by RICHERlandTV of Freesound.org“Coin Spill” by clairinski of Freesound.org“FGHTImpt_Anime Melee 7” by heltonyan of Freesound.org“Funny Boing 1” by miksmusic of Freesound.org“explosion4.wav” by sarge4267 of Freesound.org“paper_Rustling_02” by Spaghetto87 of Freesound.org“10091 water bomb exploding.wav” by Robinhood76 of Freesound.org“sparkles.wav” by LS of Freesound.org“neighing horse.wav” by soundslikewillem of Freesound.org“Wind_blowing_gusting_through_french_castle_tower.wav” by Astounded of Freesound.org“machine-long-01” by newagesoup of Freesound.org“gas vuur dakwerken gasbrander luchtballon.wav” by NickPeeters of Freesound.org“Bird Screaming.wav” by wesleywestmusic of Freesound.org“Wing Flaps.wav” by promete of Freesound.org“Seagulls close-up.wav” by juskiddink of Freesound.org“SPLASH (by blaukreuz)” by qubodup of Freesound.org“dolphin.wav” by steveygos93 of Freesound.org“04 Singing in Harmony.aif” by listeningtowhales of Freesound.org“wave3.wav” by Kayyy of Freesound.org“Splat/Squish 3” by mrickey13 of Freesound.org“storm_sea_distant.WAV” by frodeims of Freesound.org“magic_casting_energy.wav” by wangzhuokun of Freesound.org“clothing rip tear fabric various long short or electric short circuit crackle zap or masking tape.flac” by kyles of Freesound.org“machine-long-01” by newagesoup of Freesound.org“tripod legs unfolding and folding” by satanicupsman of Freesound.org“Rain on Car Hood.WAV” by gynation of Freesound.org“thunder4.wav” by swoods800 of Freesound.orgSupport the show

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Tip Of The Week “We're Going To Need A Bigger Tractor” Rural Crime In The U.S. https://www.nwestiowa.com/news/information-sought-on-cattle-gate-thefts/article_0d425d46-ec85-11ee-843e-c77398c33577.html https://www.hawaiinewsnow.com/2024/03/07/thieves-make-off-with-large-water-tanker-truck-another-ranch-burglary/ https://www.hawaiipublicradio.org/local-news/2024-03-01/farmers-advocate-for-legislative-action-on-agricultural-crimes# Across The Pond, Down Under And Up Above https://www.staffordshire.police.uk/news/staffordshire/news/2024/march/we-are-appealing-for-information-after-a-dead-sheep-was-found-by-a-dog-walker-in-horton/ https://www.sussexexpress.co.uk/news/crime/operation-recall-uk-police-and-charities-join-forces-to-launch-operation-to-tackle-livestock-attacks-4573330 https://www.bridportnews.co.uk/news/24214969.two-tiny-lambs-stolen-small-family-farm-bridport/ Africa https://www.saps.gov.za/newsroom/msspeechdetail.php?nid=52207 https://www.iol.co.za/news/crime-and-courts/farm-guard-arrested-for-allegedly-shooting-woman-and-killing-her-male-friend-in-hail-of-bullets-ac89e6ee-a42b-4802-93ec-2db46a75847f Chalk One Up For The Good Guys https://www.theadanews.com/news/local_news/ada-man-charged-with-cattle-theft/article_16cd4c22-ead7-11ee-914a-1f4afbbc263e.html https://abc13.com/police-chase-with-stolen-tractor-man-pulling-trailer-leads-high-speed-gulf-freeway-activity-webster-pursuit/14577097/ https://www.ksn.com/news/dont-miss-this/watch-police-and-front-end-loader-chase-stolen-tractor/

The Department of Education launched a renewed version of the FAFSA financial aid form at the end of last year, and the late rollout has caused major issues for applicants and colleges.Cattle in the Panhandle got sick last week, their milk suddenly turning thick and discolored, after coming down with avian flu.Many Texans hold jobs […] The post They're worked like dogs – but for these canines, farm rustling is the life appeared first on KUT & KUTX Studios -- Podcasts.

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What if '3:10 to Yuma' was recast in 1976?Ever wondered how the dusty trails and lawless landscapes of a Western classic like "3:10 to Yuma" would fare against the disco-drenched backdrop of 1976? Saddle up with Cory, Nick, and Aly as they reimagine this modernized western in an era of auteurs and gritty, harsh truths. We're deep-diving into a decade of film that was ripe for a different kind of outlaw—an examination of the Western genre through the lens of a transformative year in cinema.From the cultural shockwaves of "All the President's Men" to the underdog story that punched its way to our hearts in "Rocky," we draw parallels, conjure up hypotheticals, and highlight the performances that defined 1976. Our journey through the tumbleweeds isn't just about casting cowboys and gun-slinging galas; it's a salute to the icons of an era and the stories they told. So grab your Stetson and join us for a ride through the old West, reimagined through the gritty prism of the '70s—it's an episode that promises no ghostbusting, but plenty of spurs and speculation.(00:01:00)Intro(00:02:34) About the Movie(00:07:00)Useless Critic Stats(00:20:41)1976 Box Office(00:23:22)Oscars(00:24:16)Other Notable Films(00:30:12)Rules(00:33:18)30 Seconds or Less CastingMAIN CAST:(00:40:09) Alice Evans (00:45:09) Butterfield (00:54:02) Charlie Prince (01:03:38) William Evans (01:13:35) Dan Evans (01:25:06) Ben Wade (01:37:06)Final CastThanks for listening; If you feel like supporting us, this is where you do that!BuyMeACoffee Check out or other content/socials here. LinktreeHosts:Cory Williams (@thelionfire)Nick Growall (@nickgrowall)Co-Hosts (Season 5):Aly Dale (@alydale55)Ash Hurry (@filmexplorationah)Cass Elliott (@take5cass) Voice of the Time Machine:Kristi Rothrock (@letzshake)Editing by:Nick GrowallFeatured Music:"Quantum Recast Theme" - Cory Williams"Charmer" - Coat"Revival" - Daniele Musto"Pukka" - Bellodrone"Kings and Queens" - Wicked Cinema"Kiss the Cat" - Al Town"Birdcage" - Al Town"Passenger" - Abloom*Music and licenses through Soundstripe

Duvret Rustling Jazz SpecialAlan McKinnon 8 years Show BirthdayColin Curtis JDF Mix

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Let the many winds of Colorado carry you across the state. Hear more from Jared Blake at https://www.acousticnature.com/ and Jacob Job at https://www.jacobrjob.com/ Episode photograph: The state flag of Colorado blowing in a breeze under a blue sky (Darryl Brooks / Alamy Stock Photo) Series illustration: Charlie Dillon Hear more from R. J. Fechter on https://rjfechter.bandcamp.com and https://www.twitch.tv/rjandj Hear more from Patrick McNameeKing on his podcast, Empty Clouds (Spotify, Apple, Google) Transcript Welcome to Ambient Colorado. I'm Sarah Vitak. Let the many winds of Colorado carry you across the state. We begin with the breeze whistling over the edge of Cucharas Canyon in the south. Rustling leaves of aspen trees create unique music in this canyon. We'll add the rush of wind though spruce trees from the Fraser Experimental Forest … west of Denver. Then we visit the windswept prairies of Northern Colorado. On the Pawnee National Grassland … windmills are rhythmically pumping water for grazing cattle. Finally … we return to Cucharas Canyon at night … where a chorus of crickets join the whistling wind. Close Winds of Colorado … recorded by Jared Blake, Jacob Job and Martin Burch. Sound Design by Patrick McnameeKing. Music by R. J. Fechter. Script by Martin Burch. Series Adviser … Ann Marie Awad. If you enjoy Ambient Colorado, please send this podcast to a friend. I'm Sarah Vitak in Denver, Colorado.

Ready to escape into the heart of a dreamy meadow, where tranquility meets the gentle melody of music, rustling leaves and nature ?   As you step into this enchanting space, imagine the soft caress of the breeze, carrying with it the earthy scent of nature.   The meadow, adorned with a kaleidoscope of wildflowers, invites you to unwind and embrace the soothing ambiance that surrounds you.   Listen to the symphony of meditative music seamlessly blending with the natural sounds of birdsong and the delicate rustling of leaves beneath your feet.   Feel the energy of this peaceful meadow. The calming melodies and nature's sounds guide you to a state of relaxation and mindfulness. Picture yourself reclining in a cozy spot, the warm sun casting a gentle glow, and the rustling leaves creating a serene backdrop.   This soundscape offers a perfect escape from the stress of daily life, providing a moment of pure calm for your mind, body, and soul.   Immerse yourself in this dreamy meadow soundscape to experience stress relief, enhanced focus, and a deep sense of inner peace. The combination of relaxing music and nature sounds aims to create an oasis of tranquility, fostering a peaceful state of mind.   Whether you're seeking relaxation, meditation, focus, sleep or a moment of clarity, let the dreamy meadow guide you towards what you need.    When is the perfect time to listen to this episode ?   If you're struggling to fall asleep due to stress, anxiety or insomnia, you can listen to relaxing music and nature sounds to sleep faster and deeper and calm your mind. It will help you to slow down your thoughts and drift into a peaceful slumber and deep sleep.   When you're feeling stressed, anxious and overwhelmed, taking a few moments to listen to relaxing music and nature sounds -especially water sounds, can be a powerful way to manage your emotions and regain a sense of calm within. It will help to slow your heart rate and breathing, easing tension in your body and allowing you to relax and let go of any worries or stress.   Whether you're practicing meditation, mindfulness, journaling or yoga, relaxing music and nature sounds can be valuable tools for a better session.   You can also use relaxing sounds of nature and meditative music as your study music or work music to enhance your focus and help yourself reach a state of flow.   If you're looking to unwind after a long day, or simply want to take some time to relax and recharge, listening to relaxing sounds of nature in general can be a wonderful way to do so, making it easier to lose yourself in a good book or to simply enjoy the moment.   Finally, relaxing music and sounds of nature can also be a powerful way to add a touch of romance and magic to your everyday life.

Episode Summary This week on Live Like the World is Dying, we have a short story about prepping called "Blood, Soil, & Frozen TV Dinners" by Matthew Dougal. It's a parody about two right-wing preppers who are faced with a collapse in society. After the story, there's an interview with the author about prepping mentalities and writing. This episode was reposted from the Strangers in a Tangled Wilderness podcast. The story can be read at tangledwilderness.org. Host Info Inmn can be found on Instagram @shadowtail.artificery Reader The Reader is Bea Flowers. If you would like to hear Bea narrate other things, or would like to get them to read things for you check them out at https://voicebea.wixsite.com/website Publisher Info This show is published by Strangers in A Tangled Wilderness. We can be found at www.tangledwilderness.org, or on Twitter @TangledWild and Instagram @Tangled_Wilderness. You can support the show on Patreon at www.patreon.com/strangersinatangledwilderness. Theme music The theme song was written and performed by Margaret Killjoy. You can find her at http://birdsbeforethestorm.net or on twitter @magpiekilljoy Transcript Live Like the World is Dying: “Blood, Soil, & Frozen TV Dinners” with Matthew Dougal **Inmn ** 00:16  Hello, and welcome to Live Like the World is Dying, your podcast for what feels like the end times. I'm your host today, Inmn Neruin, and today we have something a little different. I host another podcast called Strangers in a Tangled Wilderness where every month we take a zine that Strangers puts out and turn it into an audio feature and do an interview with the author. We had a two-part feature called Blood, Soil, and Frozen TV Dinners by Matthew Dougal, and it is a short story about prepping from a very strange perspective, that of two right-wing preppers facing a mysterious collapse of society. This short story is a parody and I promise that the two main pov characters are not the heroes of the tale. It's a fun story and I do an interview with Matthew afterward about prepping mentalities, fiction, and other neat stuff. If you like this episode, check out my other podcast that this is featured from. I did not re-record the outro, so you'll get a little taste of Margaret playing the piano, because she wrote the theme music for the Strangers podcast. You'll also get to hear our wonderful reader, Bea Flowers narrate the story. Follow along with the transcript or at Tangledwilderness.org where you can read all of our featured zines for free. But before all of that, we are a member of the Channel Zero Network of anarchist podcasts and here's a jingle from another show on that network.  [sings a simple melody] **Bea ** 02:49 “Blood, Soil, & Frozen TV Dinners” by Matthew Dougal. Read by Bea Flowers. Published by Strangers in a Tangled Wilderness.  Katie sat, wide-eyed, beneath the kitchen table and hugged her knees to her chest. She was shaking, vibrating visibly. Tanner put his finger to his lips and prayed that her silent tears would remain just that. There was no time to stop and calm her down. Not again. He moved slowly around the kitchen, fumbling through cupboards and pulling out pre-wrapped packages of food. Always be prepared. Tanner had practiced this before things went dark, but it was different doing it for real. His hands hadn't been so shaky, back then.  A noise, on the porch. His body froze before his mind registered the sound. Tanner dropped into a crouch and crossed the room to the window, willing every cell in his body to radiate confidence toward his baby girl. His hand found the Glock 17 at his belt and he brought it up in front of him, the familiar feel of the grip reassuring. He took a breath, steadied himself, and raised his eyes to the level of the windowsill. The muscles in his thighs steeled and he remained, unblinking, utterly still, staring out into the darkness.  After thirty or forty nerve-twanging seconds, Tanner drew breath and relaxed. His quads were burning, and they thanked him as he straightened. He could hear the specter of his ex-wife in his head, telling him to lose some weight, exercise more… Well she'd left, and that was 135 pounds gone right there. She'd probably say that was a good start.   An unbearably loud ringing pierced the silence and sent him diving to the floor, landing awkwardly on his gun and sounding a crash through the kitchen. A keening whine came from under the table, Katie shaken from her silence.  The doorbell.  Feeling foolish, Tanner twisted over his shoulder and hissed at his daughter to be quiet. Still prone, he crawled toward the hallway in the most reassuring manner he could manage and pointed his Glock at the front door.  Footsteps outside, then a shadow appeared at the window. Tanner's heart pounded in his ears—more violent pulses of silence than sound—and his vision blurred as panic flooded his body. He'd heard the early reports of armed groups in the streets, some sort of fighting downtown, but he hadn't really believed they would come here. His legs were weak, and he silently thanked God that he was already on the floor. The shape at the window didn't move, frozen in the gloom, silhouetted by flickering light coming from the street. As Tanner's head cleared he tried to take stock of what was happening.  The apparition was vaguely man-shaped but shorter and slighter, an ethereal grace evident even in its stillness. A voice called out, muffled through the door, the guttural singsong completely at odds with the sleek form at the window. Tanner couldn't understand everything, but he thought he caught the words “little girl.” A second shape mounted the porch alongside the first, similarly short but squat and stocky, and grunted something to its companion in an alien tongue. Fluorescent light flooded the yard and the voices momentarily disappeared beneath the growl of an angry engine. Tanner's breath caught. His trembling finger hovered over the trigger and he willed the barrel to still its swaying dance. Two shots exploded outside—loud shots, from a much bigger gun than his. The creatures spun to face this new threat, their chatter rising in pitch and speed. They sounded panicked.  “yalla! hawula' alnaas majnoon.” Tanner sensed his opportunity. He was forgotten. All those hours of training kicked in and muscle memory took over as he rose to one knee, took a two-handed grip, and unleashed a furious hail of fire at his front door.  “Keep your filthy hands off my daughter!” He fired until he felt the Glock stop kicking, the magazine spent. As the cacophony faded he realized he was screaming.  “Tanner! It's me, Blake. Stop shooting goddammit, they're gone.”  “Blake?” Tanner mechanically reloaded his gun. “Why…” His throat was raw, his voice barely audible even to him. He swallowed, fighting to control his breath, and cleared his throat. “What are you doing here?”  “Come to see if you were okay. Figured you and the kid might need a hand.”  A stocky, heavily muscled figure wearing fatigues and a plate carrier stepped up to the porch, visible through the splintered ruins that had been the front door. A halogen glow lanced through the holes, like the brilliant aura of some kind of avenging eagle.  “When this shit spread across the river from the city we locked down. It was touch-and-go for a while, but things quieted down eventually. When they did, I came straight over. Good thing I got here when I did. The quick little fuckers ran for it, but I think you hit one of ‘em.”  The figure stopped, pulled down the red, white and blue bandana covering its mouth, and spat. Tanner had never been more relieved to see his buddy's foul-mouthed face. Or his M1A SOCOM 16 rifle.  “We're alright.” Tanner's voice was exhausted, his body shivering as the adrenaline fled. “Thank God I was prepared. Still, it's good to see you.”  “Prepared, shit.” His buddy grinned. “I been telling you for years to get something heavy duty.” Blake kicked the splintered remains of the door and his grin faded. “You can't stay here. Those things'll be back. Grab your girl and jump in the truck. Let's head to mine, she'll be safe there.” The grin returned.“Prepared, shit.”  An hour later they were sitting in “the Hole,” as Blake affectionately called it. The Hole was both name and description, although it perhaps undersold the amount of effort that had gone into its construction. Attached to the garage by a short, downward-sloping corridor, The Hole was a full-blown bunker that spread underneath almost the entirety of Blake's backyard. Tanner was sitting in the main chamber eating Top Ramen, chicken flavor.  They had made the half-mile journey in silence—lights down on the Tacoma, Tanner jumpy, Blake grim, Katie in a state of shock. The streets had looked completely foreign, the usual calming glow of LEDs replaced by the orange flicker of scattered flames. The familiar hum of traffic had been gone. Instead, gunfire had cracked in the distance.  Blake's wife Lauren had buzzed them inside after Blake confirmed his identity via video feed—three times: at the gate, the door, and the entrance to the Hole. The security was impressive. Lauren had ushered them inside, AR-15 at the ready. “This is prepared,” Blake was saying, as Katie stared blankly at her untouched ramen. “Old owners, they had this backyard full of fruit trees, vegetables, fuckin' kale and kohlrabi. What good is that gonna do, I said, you gonna hide in the pumpkin patch with a slingshot? Idiots.  “Anyhow me and Lauren, we wanted to be ready, so I been building this the last two years. Ain't no one knows about it, not even the contractors…” Blake sliced a finger across his throat, then laughed, “I'm joking, but they were from one of them Mexican countries. Had no idea what they were building. Good workers, though, came here the right way. And I did the security all myself.”  Tanner laughed too, but at what he didn't quite know. “You took this all real serious.”  “Yessir. You never really believed, but we did. Earl Swanson was right, this here's been a long time coming. It's just like he said, and we listened. And here we are, while you was laying on the floor waving round that little waterpistol of yours.”  Tanner had listened too, but apparently not well enough. There was only so much time he could watch an angry man on TV shouting about the state of the nation, no matter how prophetic he was turning out to be. Tanner tried to put up a strong front and flex his knowledge. He had listened, dammit.  “Is this it, then? The invasion? Earl said they've been preparing it for years, brainwashing people. Recruiting sympathizers and traitors…”  “It's worse than that. The invasion started way back, we just didn't notice. Well, most of us didn't. Earl did. He tried to warn us, that the aliens'd started infiltrating, landing in remote parts of the country, blending in, looking just like us…” Blake spat. “Well, not quite like us. But close e-fucking-nough, hiding out and biding their time.” “And now it's out in the open…” Tanner looked from his friend's face to his daughter's, scared and staring, and trailed off. He may have been listening, but he sure as hell didn't understand.  “What's happening?” Tanner asked. “We've been laying low at home, locked down and trying to wait out whatever this is. We haven't heard a thing since the power cut out three days back.”  He could feel a surge of emotion building, pent-up adrenaline and stress and fear and loneliness rolling over him in a wave as they were released. His stoicism wobbled.  “We're… Katie's scared and confused, and tired and sick of hiding and we're all alone! What is all this? What's happening?” Tanner realized he was shouting and stopped, taking a deep breath and lowering his voice. “Blake, man, what the hell is going on?” Blake never flinched, just ran his tongue over his teeth in thought while he watched Tanner's outburst through hooded eyes. “Naw, we don't know nothing for sure. Swanson's been off-air for two days, since just after shit started going down. Said he was right, that it sure as shit seemed like those aliens he'd been warning us about were making a move, and the whole fuckin' lot of us did nothing. Well, seems like it blew up in our face. Last thing he said was he's heading somewhere safe to keep broadcasting, and he'd let us know when he found out more,” Blake paused, sucked his teeth, “We've had the TV and radio on non-stop since then, since we fired the generator up. Nothing.”  Lauren lent forward. “There was something, couple days back…”  “Nothing useful,” Blake cut in. He spat. “Same old fuckin' commie stations, same old crap. They took over the channels, emergency broadcasting. Said there was a ‘protest.' Stay inside, all under control, daddy government's here, blah blah,” he laughed “Hell of a protest. More like an insurrection. Doublespeak bullshit.”  “So what's the plan? We hide out? Lay low? Wait for the military?”  “The troops ain't coming, chief.” Blake grimaced, “Alien tentacles go deep. Probably strolling around in general's stars by now, the politicians just handing over the keys. This President'll have us kissing their feet before dinner.  “Nah, if we wanna fight back we can't rely on that fuckin' bunch of secretaries and scribes. We hole up here, wait for instructions.” He laughed again, “Huh, hole up in the Hole. That's funny.”  That grin was starting to get on Tanner's nerves. “Instructions from who? How long is that gonna take? Who's gonna fight back against… this?” “I know some people, from back in the old days. Good people. There's still patriots out there who won't give up this country without a fight.”   Tanner still bristled with questions, but he was starting to feel relieved. There were people in charge, and they had a plan. That was something he could work with. “What if it takes weeks? Months? Do we have food for that long?” Blake settled further into his chair, grinned that cocky grin. “I do, don't know about you.” Before the words were even out of his mouth he was already raising his palms, “Chill out, I'm joking. I'll put it on your tab. You're a lawyer, I know you're good for it. Show him, babe.”  Lauren got up and went over to a large yellow flag hanging on the concrete wall, pulling it aside to reveal a long, narrow room that ended abruptly at a large steel door. She flicked on the light.  “Dry storage,” she said, gesturing at the shelves lining both walls. Packets of ramen, boxes of cereal, rows of whiskey, and gleaming stacks of cans stared down at Tanner. “And cold storage,” Lauren continued as she stepped over to the door, kicking aside two enormous tubs of supplements and pulling it open to reveal a walk-in freezer. Tanner followed her inside as she happily chatted away, showing everything off like a house-proud hen.  “We've got everything we need. Steaks, hotdogs, chili, hamburgers, mac and cheese, chicken parmesan, mashed potatoes--whatever you want. There's a well, too, over the other side, we had that dug last summer. Tastes a bit funny, but it won't hurt you.” Tanner was hardly listening. He had never seen anything like it, never imagined anything on this scale. Blake really had taken preparing for the end of the world seriously. The freezer room was filled, wall to wall, with a treasure trove of gourmet excess; thousands upon thousands of frozen TV dinners.  Tanner stared at his microwaved salmon filet, fries drooping from his fork. Out of habit he was eating in front of the TV with Katie, though the display hadn't changed in… however many days it had been. Just the red, white and blue logo, a tile flipping between ads for pillows, brain pills, and frozen food, and the same scrolling red banner:  Breaking: The United States of America is under attack. Stand by for updates.  Katie was poking at her food silently, barely eating. Still no appetite. Tanner had told her they were safe, told her he wasn't going to let anyone hurt her, told her a hundred times in different ways that she was his precious little girl and he would make sure she was okay. It had made no difference. She had just looked up at him with big, frightened eyes that pulled at Tanner's heart. The only time she had spoken in the past 24 hours was to ask why he had tried to shoot people. Of course she didn't understand. Maybe he should ask Lauren to talk to her.  The TV display glitched, blipped, flicked to static and then to black. Tanner shoveled the fries into his mouth and rubbed his eyes. He'd been staring at a blank TV for too long. He chewed and stretched, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to straighten out his aching back.  Earl Swanson was on TV. Tanner blinked a few times to make sure he was seeing straight. Swanson's shirt was wrinkled, his hair a mess and his signature bowtie slightly crooked, but his face wore that familiar expression of righteously indignant bewilderment. It was him.  “Blake. Blake, get in here!”  Swanson was in what looked like a large living room rather than his usual studio. Bookshelves and a TV cabinet were visible behind him. There were shadows under his eyes and his wrinkles were clearly visible without his usual TV makeup, but his eyes were as sharp as ever. There was a strength to them, piercing the screen, full of faith and fire. It felt like he was in the room. He looked like he'd been in a fight, and won. He was back.  “Good evening America, and welcome to Earl Swanson Tonight.” “Blake!” Blake stuck his head through the door.  “What? I'm working out, give me a…. No shit.” Blake stepped into the room. He was topless, breathing heavily. His stomach was shiny with sweat, pooling and running down the chiseled channels between his well-defined muscles before disappearing behind the low-riding waistband of his camo pants. Tanner realized he was staring and felt his cheeks flush as he snapped his eyes back to his friend's.  “Blake, it's--” “Shut up, I'm trying to listen.” The rebuke slapped Tanner back to the present and back to the TV. He surreptitiously sat a little straighter and sucked in his gut, trying to ignore the heat rising in his face. “...cities up and down the west coast. From Seattle to San Diego, the alien invaders and the traitors from among our own citizens have taken control, sowing chaos and destruction. Order has broken down, and anarchy rules in the streets. Yet we hear nothing but silence from the White House. The elites in Washington won't do anything about this -- they encouraged it. They caused it! “No, it is up to patriotic Americans to stop this existential threat. It is up to us, to you and me and the other patriots out there. If you value the American way of life, if you respect the principles that built the greatest nation ever imagined, if you care about your family and the future of your children, then the time has come to stand up. Your country needs you.  “I have been warning about this day on this very program for years. If you have been listening, you will be prepared for this betrayal. You know what to do. Find other true Americans who are ready to fight for our civilization and our culture. Defend our Western values against this attack by anarchists and aliens who wish to destroy us. They tried to take our guns from us, to disarm us, and failed -- now is the time to use them. Seek out the prepared, the militias, the heroes. Fight back. Show them that we will not allow it. “I will be moving to an undisclosed safe location so I can keep you informed. You know your job. I am doing my part, will you do yours?” Swanson sat erect and defiant, no less commanding for his disheveled appearance. His willpower flowed from the screen in waves, washing over the watchers. It was compelling. It was urgent. It was the only option.  The screen went black.  Swanson's gaze bored into Tanner long after the TV went dark, burning with righteous fire, lip curling with fury. The heat in Tanner's cheeks sharpened, focused, began to spread into his chest and throughout his body. There was only one thought in his mind. “We gotta go.” It took him a second to realize that Blake had spoken the words out loud.  “We do. But where? I don't know anyone like that.” “You know me, and I know people. Don't worry about that. We gotta go to Baker City. I talked to one of my buddies from the marines this morning, he's headed to join one of the militias out east. They might not be big, but they're hard. They're something.” Tanner looked at Blake blankly, unable to quite comprehend what he was being told. Days of no news, no action, now everything all at once.  “But what's in Baker City? Don't you know anyone here? This is where we live, where we have the Hole, where we have a safe base.”  Blake was clearly agitated, shifting from foot to foot.  “It's not safe. Weren't you listening? It's fallen. The military ain't doing jack, like I fuckin' told you they wouldn't.” Blake stopped bouncing and steadied himself. “But my buddy said the boys in Baker held out. It was bloody, but they held strong. If we can get there in a hurry, we can join a caravan heading for Boise.”  “Baker… Boise? What the… Boise?! Surely it's safer in Texas, or… or…”  “Texas? And how far away is that? Look, I don't know nothing about nothing, but I know I ain't looking for safer. All I know is I got buddies in Baker, and they say Boise, and they are the fuckin' resistance. We got our orders, soldier. “The west had been invaded. Destroyed. Gone. You heard Swanson, same as me. Grids are down, water's down, TV's down--mostly, anyway. Sky's half full of fire and smoke, gangs roaming the streets, traitors and aliens taking or breaking whatever they can get their thieving hands on.” Tears came to Blake's eyes.  “It's a fucking mess out there, buddy. Anarchy. They've burned the lot.” It was a lot to chew on. Tanner put a piece of salmon in his mouth.  “I'm not gonna let some filthy aliens take my home, fuck my wife, invade my country, and steal the god damn US of A! The fight is right there, and I'm gonna fight it. Are you?”  Tanner's brain was spinning, but his blood was still hot from Swanson's speech. Blake's fire, delivered standing there half-naked like a Steven Seagal action figure, was rousing something inside him. His country needed him, and he felt the call in his bones. He put down his fork. He swallowed. He rose.  “Of course I'll fight. I'll put a bullet in every alien who steps foot on American soil. I'll put every collaborator in the dirt.” He saw himself, next to Blake, riding shotgun as they made a fighting escape through the streets. He saw a heroic journey to Baker City, filled with danger and righteous violence. He saw a triumphant return, at the head of an army, cleansing his city with purifying flame. And he saw Katie, small and fragile and beautiful. Perfect, and terrified. The flame wavered.  “But I'm fighting for her,” Tanner gestured, “I got my little girl, and I'm not so red-hot on riding out guns blazing to meet these savages with her hanging off my arm. She's the future of this country, and that's a future we have to protect.”  To Tanner's surprise, Blake took a half step back.  “Shit. I know, man. Katie and Lauren, the innocent and the pure. I'm thinking of them, too.” He dropped his shoulders, but held Tanner's gaze. “But it's not safe for them here neither. We're on our own, and all hell has broken loose up top. We fight for them, and they are the reason we have to fight.” Tanner paused, then nodded. He reached out and placed his hand on his friend's shoulder, fingers gripping the sweaty skin.  “Let's go pack the truck.”  As the sun set and twilight brought a low fog creeping across the city, they piled into the Tacoma with as many frozen dinners as they could carry.  Tanner rode in back. Lauren was up front, AR at the ready, while Blake drove, M1A by his side and his Glock taped to the dash. Katie was at Tanner's side, curled up below the window and hidden from view, and Tanner watched over her with his own Glock and a borrowed Remington 870. They were all a little jumpy. He and Lauren had wanted to maintain a shoot-on-sight policy. Blake had been more cautious. According to Swanson, there would be plenty of people collaborating with the aliens. Lights out, engine low, and hopefully they could slip right on by.  No one knew what to expect—Tanner suspected they were all terrified. He certainly was. Even Blake had swapped out his flag bandana for a more understated camo print. He had stashed the red, white and blue fabric in the bed of the truck with the rest of their gear.     They pulled out into streets Tanner knew, but didn't. He had driven them every day, on the way to work, to Katie's school, to church, to the mall. The streets were as familiar as a cold Coke, yet now, in some important way, they were… different. As they left the Hole and drove through the suburb he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but once Blake reached the main street and turned past the bars and shops and take-out joints, it hit him.  The streets were dead. The cars were gone. The steady flow of traffic, of people living their lives, had stopped. The parking lot in front of the drug store was empty; so was the one behind the bar. The convenience store, normally ticking over with a steady stream of customers buying cigarettes and beer, was dark behind its windows. Unintelligible graffiti in some alien script covered the ads for energy drinks, an expression of mindless violence across someone's hard work.  A light rain had started, misting around them and adding to the dreariness. A billboard loomed overhead, the lights that illuminated the Colgate-bright smiles of the models now permanently dark. Tanner was glad—the gloom obscured the flame-scarred destruction streaking the toothpaste company's perfect white message. “Disgusting,” Blake spat. He looked like he wanted to say more but pulled up short, shocked at the sudden sound of his own voice. His eyes focused back on the road and he fell into uneasy silence. The truck continued its crawl down the deserted street, barely clocking 20 miles an hour. Even at that speed, the low growl of the engine seemed unbearably loud as it reverberated among the carcasses of commerce and ricocheted down abandoned side streets.  They kept driving, and nothing kept happening. It was torturous. Every minute of unbroken inactivity twisted the crank on the tension in the car, until the unceasing hum of the engine began to seep into Tanner's brain. Every muscle in his arms and legs, primed and waiting and ready to spring, began to tremble, and his eyes focused and unfocused on nothing at all.  His frantic heartbeat messed with his breathing, a powerful panicked thud that matched the rumble of the pistons.  Overall, he was relieved when the road curved and they entered a strip of restaurants to see signs of life among the debris littered across the street in the distance.  It wasn't immediately clear through the gloom what was happening. Blake slowed the truck, now rolling along at barely more than walking pace, and they crept closer. The scene was illuminated by the flickering light of small fires and backlit by a pair of enormous floodlights, creating a glowing aura in the surrounding mist. Images began to resolve, ghostly figures flitting in and out of view and the harsh geometric shapes—not of debris, but of hastily manufactured barricades—throwing long shadows that lanced through the air around them as they approached.  All eyes were fixed on the barricades as they pulled within shouting distance, and Tanner nearly pissed himself when someone knocked on his window. He yelped, Blake swore, and Lauren's weapon x-rayed Tanner's head and pointed at the intruder. Tanner followed her lead and jerked his gun up to aim in the general direction of the window and for ten, twenty heartbeats nothing moved. Then another knock, and Blake hissed at them: “Put those things away you idiots, we're the good guys here. Whatever side that guy is on, so are we.”  Tanner slowly lowered the gun, then the window.  “Hey folks, no cars through here.” The man was clad head to toe in black—black jeans, black hoodie, black gloves, black bandana covering his face, black curly hair running with rainwater. No wonder they hadn't seen him. The stranger spotted their guns.  “Oh, nothing like that,” he added, catching the nervous energy in the truck, “You're a bit late to the party. No trouble ‘round here, this area's been cleaned out for days.” He chuckled, sending a shiver through Tanner.  “Some folks messed up the cop shop a while back, it was a bit of a fight. Streets were all blocked up anyway, so we set up a little kitchen here. Been feeding some folks. Symbolic, like, new world in the ruin of the old and all that.” The smile fell from his face as he took in the scene in the truck.  “Everything alright? Is she okay?”  He gestured at Katie, curled up and quivering silently beside Tanner. Tanner opened his mouth to respond, but Blake was quicker. “Sure, probably just spooked by that fucking mask. Look, we don't mean to bother you people. Just heading east, trying to cross the river. We'll go around you and your little kitchen.”  If the man took issue with Blake's tone, it didn't show.  “Bridge is a no-go, I'm afraid. Pigs blew the cables as they pulled out, some of it collapsed. It's way too unstable to cross.” He scratched at his temple. “What d'you want out that way, anyway? There's dangerous people out there, not exactly safe for… families.”  “We're heading for, uh, Hood River,” Tanner spoke up, “Taking supplies out to the girl's grandparents.”  “Indians,” Blake chimed in, “they need the help.” He winked at Tanner.  The stranger turned to Blake and met his eyes, holding his gaze for an unnerving moment. Then he seemed to resolve some internal discussion, relaxing his shoulders. “Well, you might be able to get across up St. Johns, last I heard the bridge was still intact. There's some folks in the park up there, you can ask them.”  “St. Johns? That's the wrong fucking way!”  “A bridge is a bridge. It's that or swim, champ.” “Can you at least call the, uh, your boss? Tell him you checked us out, ask if we can get across?”  The man smiled, but something hardened behind his eyes.  “My boss? Sure, sure. Look, I think it's time you moved on. Head on up there and tell ‘em what you told me, they'll let you out. There's a bunch of poor Indians waiting for their dinner.”  There was something strange about the way the man said “Indians,” but he patted the hood of the truck and turned away, waving them down a side street away from the barricade. As Blake slowly drove off, Tanner collapsed back into his seat and quickly rolled up the window. His underarms were cold with sweat, and he relaxed muscles he hadn't known were clenched.  Blake took the turn the stranger indicated, muttering that if he heard anyone say “folks” again he would hit them. Tanner stared out the window at the “little kitchen” as they passed. There must have been a couple hundred people, milling around a dozen or so small fires. They were all loosely centered around a large tent directly in front of the scorched skeleton of the precinct. Laughter and music drifted through the open window, and Tanner closed it. He didn't think he could see any aliens, but it was difficult to tell in the dark.  “Collaborators. Must be a ration station or something,” he muttered, mostly to himself.  Lauren heard him. “No, this has been going on much longer than that, it just wasn't so out in the open. Swanson warned us about it. He said they lure hungry people in with food.”  “Yeah,” cut in Blake, “this is how they recruit ‘em. Set up a kitchen, give ‘em food, homeless and crackheads and queers, mostly. Drugs too, probably, and spewing their propaganda. That guy was probably one of the junkies. Sure as shit looked like it, you see the way he stared at me?”  Tanner shuddered. A junkie. He had an overwhelming urge to wash his hands. He remembered the way the man had talked about the police station, his manic laugh in the face of such violence, and glanced back at the quickly fading light. And saw a small figure, tottering at the edge of the firelight. A child.  “Disgusting,” he said out loud.  “Yeah, disgusting. It's like Earl said,” Blake continued, “they been feeding people right under our fucking noses.”  They drove on toward the bridge. The streets were more cluttered here, both with people and the remnants of the riots, and they could only manage a slow pace as they picked their way through the destruction. Blake had to swerve to the wrong side of the road to avoid a group of people carrying trash bags, picking through the rubble.  “Looking for something to eat,” he grunted, and locked the doors.  Signs of violence were everywhere. Tanner's chest tightened as they drove past the law firm where he had started his career—the job that had brought him to the city after he finished college, working for his father's best friend and learning his profession. Inside the shattered windows it was nothing but a shell, the desks overturned and the computers gone. No one would be working there any more.  The destruction was completely random. Violence for its own sake. Beside the firm was a pawn shop, covered in graffiti and looted. Next to that, a Vietnamese restaurant, completely unharmed except for ‘Delicious, 5 stars' sprayed on the pavement outside. Across the road was an untouched convenience store and a bookshop with its doors wide open, light flooding out and people crowding the entrance. A donut shop and an Apple store destroyed, a mechanic and a bar looking like they had simply closed for the night. There was absolutely no pattern or reason to it.  They saw a Fred Meyers with every window broken, the front door jammed open with a twisted shopping cart. A movement caught Tanner's eye and he saw someone leaving from a side door, carrying a huge bag of stolen food. He hoped Blake didn't see—he might do something stupid, and Tanner didn't want to stop. It wasn't safe.  They made it a few more blocks when Lauren gasped and grabbed Blake's arm, making him brake. She gestured across the intersection to a KFC. Half the building had collapsed in what must have been an enormous fire; the half that still stood had been savagely attacked. She pointed to the entrance with a shaking finger. Someone—or something—had toppled the giant bucket sign and sent it crashing through the ceiling of the kitchen. Above the door, someone had scrawled a message in red spray paint:  FUCK YOU SANDERS OUR SECRET SPICES NOW There were more barricades set up near the bridge. Where the others had been makeshift, marking a boundary, these were more serious. They were to stop people getting through. Blake slowed before they got too close to the blockade, which they could now see was lined by shapes that very much suggested people. On both sides of the road the land fell away into darkness, sloping down to become a park that ran beneath the bridge.  The park itself, a rare green space normally dotted with dog walkers and children, was transformed. The once-quiet lawns were a mass of tents and makeshift structures, stages and bars and sound systems, the proud trees now decked out with effigies and lights. Fires burned everywhere, and the distant space was carpeted with a swarming mass of humanity, undulating to a throbbing cacophony of noise.  “This doesn't look good,” said Blake. He pulled over, a hundred yards or so short of the bridge.  “That guy said they would let us through,” said Tanner, “if we stick to our story.”  “He was a junkie,” scoffed Lauren.  “But he thought we were working with them,” said Tanner, “he had no reason to lie to us.”  “I guess it's worth a try. Anyway, they ain't gonna try anything against this much firepower.” Blake grunted. “Too late to change our minds now. They've seen us.”  He nodded at the barricade, where two shapes had detached from the mass. They moved toward the Tacoma, and Blake responded by flicking the lights to high beam and heading to meet them. As Blake swung back out into the road the beams cut through the darkness to illuminate the figures, throwing wild shadows from the two shapes until the truck steadied course and they coalesced into recognisable forms. One was a large man, white, with a nose ring and a loosely-tied blond ponytail. He was wearing a plaid shirt and carrying a large rifle. The other—Tanner's throat caught—the other looked like one of the aliens.  “Shit,” said Blake, as the headlights picked out at least half a dozen more shapes along the barricade, several with big guns visible. “Fuck.” He stopped the truck and rolled down the window, then cursed again and threw open the door.  “I'll be fucked if I'm gonna sit here and be pulled over like some criminal. Tanner, you're with me—let's go meet them man to man.” Tanner scrabbled for the door handle and chased after Blake, half-skipping to catch up. They pulled up a few paces before colliding with the approaching party. The blond man stepped forward.  “How's it going, dude?” he said.  “We need to get to Hood River,” said Blake, “we're trying—” “Yeah, we heard.” The man cut him off. “Bridge is closed to traffic, unfortunately. You wanna cross, you'll have to walk.”  Blake bristled. “Are you joking? We need to bring all this stuff. It's… important,” he objected. “You can't just keep people here!”  “We could,” said the blond man, calmly. He sounded confident in his assertion. Looking at the line of men—and women, Tanner realized—standing along the barricade, he agreed.  “But we're not,” the man continued. “You can go wherever you want. Take your shit, cross the bridge. Some folks have organized buses up the river, they'll take you. But the truck stays.”  “But that's my fucking truck!” Blake squealed. The man's eyebrows shot up and Tanner laid a hand on Blake's shoulder, squeezing it and hoping he got the message. The stranger paused, then sighed.  “Look, I'm sorry dude. I love my truck, too. But there was an attack at another camp last night by these so-called freedom fighters,” he grimaced. “Militia wackjobs, really. Word is they are gathering across the river, and we can't risk weapons and vehicles falling into the wrong hands. Especially not an arsenal like you folks got here.”  The alien stepped forward and, much to Tanner's surprise, spoke in perfect American English.  “Don't worry, it'll be here when you get back. We'll take real good care of it for you. They will appreciate the help guarding the buses and I'm sure they'll be more than happy to help you move these… important supplies.”  They signaled to the group at the barricade and two more figures made their way into the light of the truck's high beams. The first was a slim Black man in fatigues, wearing a red beret at a jaunty angle and carrying a AR-style rifle in one hand. The other was a woman, tall and imposing. She wore a leather jacket over a long black dress, which was slit to the thigh to reveal hints of slim, bare legs that stretched from the pavement to the heavens. Tanner blinked rapidly and swallowed. He had always had a soft spot for long legs in thigh-slit dresses.  As they came closer the man nodded at Tanner and Blake, but he was not what held their attention. The woman with the legs from God was also rocking a luxurious mustache that would have put Teddy Roosevelt to shame. As Tanner's eyes bulged, she caught his gaze and winked.  “Hello, boys. I'm Sunshine, they/them. I'll be with you on the bus.”  Tanner didn't know how to react. A fuzzy memory bounced around in the back of his head. “An investigation on college campuses found that increasing numbers of American citizens are using pronouns.” Earl's bewildered face frowned, then puckered. “These ‘theys' and ‘thems' are making a mockery of the American tradition, seeking to spread their insidious ideology among good, hard-working citizens, brainwashing young Americans into adopting these ‘pronouns.' What's next, people identifying a different age? A different race? We need to speak out against this perverse trend and most importantly, keep them away from our children.” _ That was it. These were the pronouns Swanson had warned them about. He gripped his gun and glanced at Blake, trying to get his mental footing.  Blake looked shocked, too, but quickly pulled himself together. He threw Tanner a sly look, one that hinted at an idea. “Give us a minute,” he snapped, and pulled away from Tanner, back to the truck. When they were both inside he turned on the occupants with a spark in his eyes.  “They must be talking about my boys, alive and kicking,” the old grin was back, his excitement barely contained. “Must have set up in the woods. We'll head over and find ‘em. Maybe they got word from Earl. If they're here, and they're fighting, maybe we don't have to go all the way to Boise after all.” “What's going on?” Lauren looked confused.  “We're leaving the truck. Grab the shit, cross the bridge, hijack their fucking commie-wagon and strike out east. Either we find them in Baker, or our boys find us first.”  Tanner was still coming to grips with the situation. “What about… them?” he said.  “Who?” “They… them. In the dress, with the pronouns!”  “And what are they going to do, stop us? You ever tried to fight wearing something like that? No. The four of us, across the bridge, grab the bus, easy.” “Katie's not hijacking any bus. She's eight, for God's sake. Maybe she and Lauren should stay here…”  “You stay here with Katie,” Lauren snapped, cutting Tanner off. “If you think it's safer, if you're looking for safer, you take her for a nice walk in the park down there. I'll be with my husband, taking my country back from these freaks.”  “I know you want to keep Katie safe,” Blake added, almost apologetically, “but you saw what it's like out there. You heard Swanson's warnings. These aren't people, they're animals, aliens. She's your baby fuckin' girl, man. You do what you're at peace with, but my wife sure as shit ain't staying here to get felt up by some dick in a dress.”  Tanner looked at Lauren. “But she's just a kid! What if she gets hurt.”  “What if she gets hurt _here? So you look after her. Be a man,” Lauren spat back.    Blake clapped Tanner on the shoulder and held his gaze. “It's do or die time, soldier. Let's get the fuck outta here, hook up with the resistance, then bring back the fury of God and freedom and the USA to take back this city and liberate my God damn truck!” Tanner looked at Katie, curled up in the footwell, and wanted to object. He wanted to take her somewhere safe, back to the Hole, where it was warm and they could hide from the aliens and the bad people and they had all the food they could need and they could wait for this all to be over.  But the fire in his belly wouldn't let him. He knew Blake was right, he knew that he should be ashamed of his moments of weakness. He saw Lauren gripping her rifle and staring at Blake with faith and devotion in her eyes and he knew that was the kind of man he wanted to be. Tanner breathed a silent promise to keep Katie safe, no matter the cost.  “Let's do it.” Blake pulled the truck up to the group of guards and they all piled out, Tanner standing straight and feeling tall, Blake's words ringing in his ears. It's do or die time. _ Two of the barricade guards came over to help them unload while the others stood around and watched, their mustachioed escort who made Tanner's skin crawl and the large blond man. Traitor. They stripped off the tray covering and began shifting gear, Blake and blondie up above handing packages down to everyone else. Tanner heard the guards muttering to each other.  “Holy shit, that's a lot of firepower.” The blond man snorted. “And a lot of nasty-ass TV dinners. Important supplies, my ass.”  Sunshine shrugged. “Folks eat what they eat. Not everyone lives in a Whole Foods and learned to make Tom Yum on their gap year,” they rebuked him. The man grimaced and scratched his jaw. “Yeah, right. That was unfair of me. Well, Thai cooking workshop tomorrow and I'll make a big pot, so at least folks here don't have to eat that frozen stuff… unless they want to.” They busied themselves unloading, bundling food and weapons into bags or tying them together for ease of carrying. Tanner was tying the straps of his backpack and settling it on his back when he heard a curse from the back of the truck. He glanced up, and, frozen in time, watched the next few seconds helplessly.  The blond man had pulled out one of the last few satchels, the one containing all their spare clothes. He was standing upright, arms held out, nose ring quivering in silent outrage. In his left hand he had Blake's flag bandana; in his right, Blake's spare jacket, rebel flag patch sitting proudly on the shoulder.  Blake reacted fastest. He dropped the food he was holding, raised his Glock, and with a vengeful crack the blond ponytail exploded in a spray of red.  The man in the beret raised his rifle and fired two shots into Blake's chest, sending him flying from the tray. A scream burst from Lauren as she reached for her gun, but the alien matched the sound and met her with a powerful tackle, sending both of them crashing into a pile of frozen hamburgers. Sunshine reached out and grabbed Tanner's arm. Time snapped back into motion for Tanner. He instinctively pulled away and shook his arm free of the grasping fingers. Stepping back, he spun and swung his fist in a wild roundhouse. It connected with Sunshine's jaw as they overbalanced toward him. Tanner watched them collapse in a heap. His gaze danced over the chaos unfolding around him, frantically searching for Katie. _There. Tanner picked her up and ran.  They plunged off the road and into the darkness. There was only one thought in his mind: get Katie across that bridge. She was sobbing, shaking in his grasp, and Tanner made what he hoped were comforting shushing noises as he ran. He knew this park—there was a staircase inside one of the support towers that rose from the park to the bridge overhead. That was his way out. Holding Katie tightly, breath ragged, he ran toward the orgy of light and noise pulsating below.  The two escapees burst into the mass of people. Tanner looked around, eyes darting, taking in the madness and trying to get his bearings. The sensory assault was overwhelming, but he slowly made out patterns in the polyrhythmic press. What had looked from above like a continuous swell of humanity was actually a hundred, a thousand separate groups and camps and parties. People flowed freely between them, groups forming and merging and coming apart in a chaotic, everchanging anarchy. A makeshift stage to his left throbbed with bass, colliding with the bone-jarring screams and guitars of a group of punks. Tanner found himself surrounded by ecstatic dancers, while a group almost under his feet sat staring into a campfire, oblivious to the rest of the world. He crashed through their doped-out reverie and bounced off two men, locked in a hungry embrace.  Tanner recoiled and turned away, shielding Katie with his body, searching desperately for the tower that would lead him out of this nightmare. Lights flashed, blinding, creating a sort of slideshow of horror as Tanner scanned the crowd. There. He found it. His escape from this festival of the damned. He soldiered on, caught up in a whirl of half-naked dancers, men, women, and everyone else, mindless of the frigid air as they span and writhed in rapture.  Tanner spotted an exit, an island of calm, and dove for it. He exploded from the throng, gasping for air, and breathed in the relative silence. Collecting himself, he was faced with rows of bodies, still, staring at something unseen up ahead, the very air trembling with collective anticipation.  A voice shattered his uneasy reprieve, loud and bombastic and dripping with drama.  “And now, my darlings, it is time for these fuckers to do what I do best—go down!” Tanner dashed through the crowd as they roared and surged into motion, and caught a glimpse of the scene ahead: two lines of people, straining on thick ropes, as a woman in lingerie and feathers pranced like a princess of hell before them. The ropes led upwards, where they were tied around the necks of two enormous metal figures. Lewis and Clark.  Tanner broke into a full sprint, shouldering bodies aside. He was almost there. Up ahead, rising from the chaos, was his stairway to the heavens. His legs trembled and his breath came in ragged sobs, but he couldn't slow down. Not when he was so close. He tore out of the crowd and into the comforting darkness of the spaces in between. His hysterical panic began to subside. One foot in front of the other. Keep running. They were going to make it. As he neared the tower a figure came into view at the base, looming from the shadows of the doorway, staring into the blackness beyond. A stocky, muscled figure wearing fatigues and a plate carrier. It couldn't be… “Blake! Blake, thank God.” Tears welled in Tanner's eyes as he reached his friend. Lauren was nowhere to be seen, but right now Tanner couldn't think about her. He had survived, and he had brought Katie through. His heartbeat was still frantic, but from exertion rather than fear. They were here. He, Katie, and Blake. Emotionally exhausted, physically spent, battered and terrified, but alive. They were going to be okay. He reached out to his friend. Blake turned—No, not Blake. A thick black beard engulfed the shadowy face, momentarily lit by the glowing ember of a huge cigar. The eyes were deep-set and dark, the skin weathered, wrinkled, brown. The face of an illegal alien.  Tanner's throat betrayed him. He squeaked, and nothing more would come out. His knees wobbled and threatened to give way, his feet froze in place. He wavered. He whimpered.  Puffing on the cigar, the alien took in his terrified face and the little girl slung over his shoulder. He gestured toward the doorway and blew out an enormous plume of smoke.  “Go, gringo.”  It was well past midnight when Katie ran into the side of a tent, fell on her bottom, and started crying. They had crossed the bridge, left the highway, and headed for the safety of the forest. Since then they had been wandering among the trees for hours, directionless, driven by fear, then by hope, then exhausted aimlessness. Tanner wasn't going anywhere except away from that park. He had briefly entertained the image of finding a group of militia, sitting around a fire, eating and laughing and, maybe, swapping stories with their old friend Blake. That was hours ago. Visions were fleeting in the fever dream of the forest. Since then, they had walked because they didn't know what else to do. Tanner stumbled over to Katie and collapsed beside her, holding her close and hushing her. He felt like crying too.  A flashlight clicked on inside the tent and a dreadlocked head poked out of the flap.  “Hey, there's someone here!” Rustling erupted from all around and more faces appeared. “Wasn't someone keeping watch?” “I thought you were.” “Doesn't matter, doesn't matter. Someone's crying.” “You folks okay?” Tanner and Katie were soon surrounded by a small group of people. He looked up at them. “Are you the militia?” “No, don't worry. You're safe here. We're friends.” “Although I guess we are a militia if you think about it. Sort of.”  “Shh, don't confuse the poor people. They're terrified.”  “Sorry. No, no militia. Someone get them a blanket and something to drink.” Minutes later, Tanner and Katie were wrapped in sleeping bags, sipping on hot cocoa. It was scalding and familiar and Tanner felt the tension of the past day fading, leaving bone-deep exhaustion in its place.  “Are you okay? What happened?” “Thank you. We were… we just need to sleep.”  “And you? What's your name? Are you alright?” Katie looked at her dad, then stared up from her tin mug. “I'm Katie. I'm scared.” “You're safe now. We'll help you. Look, we'll get you somewhere to sleep.” The first face they had seen rummaged around in a tent and brought out a bag. “Lucky we have a spare tent. I'll just put it up, won't be a second.” The tent was almost up by the time Tanner and Katie finished their drinks, and they got up and walked over, sleeping bags over their shoulders, holding hands. “Hey, thanks,” Tanner said. “I would have helped but I don't really know how. Never had much call for camping. I am, uh, was a lawyer,” he glanced around, “not criminal, uh… intellectual property. Copyright.”  “No problem, of course. Here, it's not hard. I'm just clipping the…” “This isn't the time for camping lessons, Jacob. Anyway, you'll scare the man, sharing information for free like that. They've been through enough already.”  “Sorry, yeah. Look, slide in. Take these sleeping mats. It'll do for tonight, I'll teach you tomorrow.”  Tanner and Katie squeezed into the tent, sleeping bags huddled together on the cold, hard ground, and slept. THE END **Inmn ** 1:03:01 Hello, and welcome to the show. Thank you so much for coming on today. Could you introduce yourself with your name, pronouns, and just a little bit about what you do in the world? **Matt ** 1:03:15 Yeah, hi, I'm Matt. He/him pronouns. And I'm a student again, after a really long time, actually, which is why I've just moved to where I'm living now. But I like to write, you know, mostly for me, and this is the first first thing I've published but I enjoy it. And yeah, I'm really grateful that you've taken an interest in it. **Inmn ** 1:03:37 Yeah, totally. I love the story. So we just listened to the second half of your story, Blood, Soil and Frozen TV Dinners and even though listeners just heard...just heard the whole story, I'm wondering if you could just kind of like walk us through the story in your--you know, from the mouth of the author--what is this story about? **Matt ** 1:04:01 So the story, for me, was about, to some extent, seeing yourself in some ways or, you know, people like you, through the eyes of...through the eyes of someone else, I guess, someone who's very different and might see things in a different way. So I always find it interesting to play with different perspectives or different characters instead of telling the story from a heroic perspective or something. And I wondered what a pathway to a better world might look like from someone who didn't necessarily want that to happen. So we have these, you know, preppers who--call them you want, right-wing conservatives, something like this--and what they might think, given the knowledge that they receive about the world, what they might think is happening when something happens that a lot of the rest of us might want. **Inmn ** 1:05:00 Yeah, totally. I really like how you put that. What was it, like, "a better world that they don't necessarily want?" [both laugh] Okay, well, how did this, how did this story kind of...like how did it come to be? What inspiration did you kind of draw from to craft this situation or these like personalities from Tanner and Blake or Earl Swanson? 1:05:35 Yeah, the story itself, there was a discussion last Halloween, I believe it was, on Coffee With Comrades, there was a interview with Pearson and Margaret Killjoy, talking about the discussion of the monster in literature, which is where I first took the idea that they were talking about seeing yourself as the monster in this idea and sometimes reveling in that or perhaps enjoying it. And that was where the first idea came from. And then the most specific layout of the story or main theme, I guess, was, I was doing something on the US Tax Office website. And there's this whole section for aliens, right, if you're an alien in the U.S., these are the tax rules you need to follow. And I just thought it was a funny word. You know, I'd seen it on Fox News or something before but it just struck me as really weird in such an official position. Yeah, and I just was playing with the ideas of this and, you know, I like thinking about utopias and things. And this is where the like the main shape of the story had come from, just the idea of seeing the monster, seeing the alien from there. And then specific characters, I mean, some of them are just kind of people that I've met, you know, Tanner and Blake, specifically, and I think Earl Swanson's character, I mean--I don't know it's possibly libelous--but we can probably figure out who that's meant to be, right? I think it's reasonably obvious. **Inmn ** 1:07:09 Totally, totally. Yeah. Yeah. No, that's super interesting. Yeah, it's funny, I was rereading the story today to prepare for this interview and I realized that the first time that I was reading it, because of this perspective of the.... I'm like, okay, I know, these are some, you know, at least center-right, far-right preppers and they're using the word "alien" and I don't actually know what they mean by this, which was, you know, maybe a purposeful being vague about it, but I was like, I don't know if they think that it's, you know, illegal aliens or undocumented  migrants or whatever or if they mean, like, literal from outer space aliens. And, yeah, I was like, I don't know what they mean by what they're talking about. And maybe they don't either.   1:08:20 This was part of the conceit, right, was setting it up like it's a pretend big reveal, I think, that it's a twist in the story that at some point gets revealed, but that's not really the point. It's not really meant to be a big trick or something like this, you know? I think in discussions in the editing, we talked about in the first page or so when they speaking Arabic, and it's reasonably obvious to anyone that knows Arabic who these people are, you know, it's not hidden, but this was the idea, that they may have meant illegal alien all along, was, you know, the way they we're using the term, but that they weren't necessarily drawing so much of a distinction between the two uses of the word alien, that in their minds a, sort of, invasion by one was the same as the invasion by the other to some extent. **Inmn ** 1:09:10 Yeah, which, you know, I actually really love that from the perspective of.... It's like maybe an interesting twist. I didn't listen to that interview with Pearson and Margaret, so I'm not sure what they talked about, but there's this kind of idea in a lot of spaces that I've been part of,you know, when people talk about things like assimilation or something, especially in queer spaces, of like, "We have to seem harmless to them. We have to seem innocent. We have to seem like we just want to be part of the group," you know, and then this other side that's like, "No, we want to be unknowable. We are claiming the monstrosity that they are putting on us," and I'm like, yeah, we're fucking.... I don't know, anarchists are kind of aliens, like, in an entirely other way of thinking, you know? 1:10:09 Yeah, and just considering some social norms is completely irrelevant or harmful or repressive and other things that other people would consider, perhaps, violent or something seem completely okay to other people. There is a complete sort of alienation of perspective from broader society, I think. And yeah, it is, there's a tension between sometimes wanting to go unnoticed, or, as you say, like assimilate, and even, for me, walking around, you know, sometimes you want to look like an anarchist and sometimes you don't. It's an interesting dynamic, I guess, that you can switch sometimes day-to-day. **Inmn ** 1:10:54 Yeah, yeah. Have you read much of--you know, love talking about this person on the show--have you read much of Ursula Le Guin's Hainish Cycle? 1:11:08 I've read only "The Dispossessed" and "The Left Hand of Darkness".  **Inmn ** 1:11:16 Great examples. I think "The Left Hand of Darkness," kind of brings out this idea of where the reader is going to maybe most identify with the alien, or whatever, in "The Left Hand of Darkness" being not the not the Gethens--or I don't remember what they're called. But then it's like, the more that we're reading the book... or there's some times where I'm this alien or, you know, our perspective person just doesn't understand this culture. And that's really painful. And then there are other times when I'm like, I don't know, maybe the alien's perspectives on the world are far more dissimilar to what a normal person on like our planet Earth would think, because they're advocating for a better world that is very alien to people on this planet. Does that make sense? **Matt ** 1:12:24 Yeah, I mean, in "The Dispossessed," I think it's the same dynamic with Shevak coming back to Earth and presenting the perspective, both ways that it seems incredibly alien to him and then the other way around to everyone else that's there, to the general culture there. Yeah. I think it's an interesting literary device to present the outsider point of view, I think, which I mean, is quite the opposite of what I did in this story, I presented the more mainstream point of view, I guess, but from the circles that we're in, it's funny to see from the outside what that looks like. **Inmn ** 1:13:02 Yeah, yeah, I had this very silly idea once for...I don't know if it was gonna be a short story or what but kind of, using that "alien" trope or like "Stranger in a Strange Land" trope as a way to talk to my parents about anarchism or about radical queer spheres. **Matt ** 1:13:27 Yeah, I mean, that's about as alien as it can get for a lot of people's parents, right. **Inmn ** 1:13:31 Totally. But just as some funny little zine that's like an introduction to the punk house, you know? **Matt ** 1:13:44 Yeah, viewed as some sort of interesting zoo creatures. **Inmn ** 1:13:46 Yeah. I was wondering if you could talk a little bit about the kind of political renderings of Tanner and Blake or ,rather, their differences in how they perceive or interact with either preparedness or this new world that they're encountering? **Matt ** 1:14:14 Yeah, I think that Blake's character is a lot.... He knows what he's doing, right? It's a lot more intentional and more--I guess educated is maybe not quite the right word--but a lot more of an actually constructed ideology, whereas for Tanner it's very much received. He's not so keen, not so entirely sold on the idea or doesn't necessarily know the idea. It feels like it's like lost and failing a lot of the time and I think that's why I found him a much more interesting character because that's how I feel a lot of people that I know and talk to and family members and friends and things or friends of people I know get pulled into a lot of these, you know, reactionary ideologies is kind of by accident a lot of the time, right? Because it's what's presented and what they're drawn into by someone who has a lot more investment in it than they do. And they just kind of bumble into it almost by accident. Yeah. **Inmn ** 1:15:20 Because it's what they're seeing on TV. People who are deeper into that philosophy are like.... It's like the people that they're around who are their own little echo chambers of, "Oh, okay, there's this thing happening. Not sure how I feel about it. But I'm being like, fed this perspective on it." **Matt ** 1:15:46 Yeah, and a lot of the social or interpersonal issues that draw people in as well, I think. I tried to make it seem relatively obvious that Tanner is envious of Blake in a lot of ways, right? He is, you know, hotter than him and he is cooler than him and he knows more than him and he's always trying to, like, live up to this ideal that he has just completely interpersonally with no politics or anything in it. And he just wants to live up to what he thinks Blake wants him to be, which it turns out, is a bad thing. I mean, I'm not trying to excuse Tanner's character too much here. But yeah, I think this is what's really dangerous a lot of the time actually, for people who don't necessarily have a fully formed belief in all of these philosophical systems or something that then puts them on the wrong side not by...not necessarily out of evil intention. **Inmn ** 1:16:54 Yeah. No, that's very true. And it's interesting talking about not excusing Tanner's character too much, but as I was reading the story I found myself like, not necessarily rooting for Tanner and Bl

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Tip Of The Week Ever heard of a face social media account? Rural Crime In The U.S. https://www.lmtonline.com/news/article/a-cargo-plane-returns-to-jfk-airport-after-a-18493722.php https://manhattanda.org/d-a-bragg-announces-charges-against-driver-of-nyc-carriage-horse-ryder/ https://www.ksnt.com/news/reward-increased-to-11000-for-cattle-rustlers-in-wabaunsee-co/ Across The Pond, Down Under And Up Above https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-england-birmingham-67425640 https://www.countytimes.co.uk/news/23921874.powys-family-left-devastated-midnight-farm-robbery/ Africa https://www.georgeherald.com/News/Article/General/horse-owners-warned-to-be-vigilant-202311160935 https://www.tori.ng/news/253667/police-recover-three-stolen-cows-from-suspected-ca.html Chalk One Up For The Good Guys https://www.stgeorgeutah.com/news/archive/2023/11/15/jmr-enoch-police-arrest-suspect-after-horse-trailer-owner-spots-stolen-saddle-for-sale-online/ https://www.newportdispatch.com/2023/11/15/east-haven-man-charged-with-possession-of-stolen-tractor-grand-larceny/ More Places You Can Listen to Off-Farm Income And Matt Brechwald:      

Tip Of The Week Would a big sign that says “NOT A ROAD” work? Rural Crime In The U.S. https://www.wfmj.com/story/49912599/mercer-man-accused-of-driving-trucks-over-farmland-road-signs-mailboxes https://www.facebook.com/100076447704733/posts/pfbid02BsVk1CaGWn2Ymzw1xpYTvU1Kau9KNiTT9N2Gr1JXqNYaUtuRULYKSgQ7PuvUQ8c7l/?mibextid=cr9u03 https://www.ksnt.com/news/local-news/reward-offered-for-cattle-rustling-scumbags-in-wabaunsee-co/ Across The Pond, Down Under And Up Above https://www.expressandstar.com/news/local-hubs/staffordshire/2023/11/09/investigation-launched-after-three-cows-stolen-from-staffordshire-farm/ https://www.1news.co.nz/2023/11/09/man-bites-crocodile-australia-cattle-farmer-survives-attack/ https://www.stokesentinel.co.uk/news/stoke-on-trent-news/gang-mutilate-kill-calves-amerton-8895411 Africa https://www.thisdaylive.com/index.php/2023/11/08/troops-neutralise-bandits-arrest-19-suspected-kidnappers-in-plateau https://platformtimes.com.ng/brothers-in-hot-water-ekiti-siblings-face-charges-for-stealing-chicken-worth-n45000/ Chalk One Up For The Good Guys https://www.wjjm.com/agricultural-crime-unit-adds-three-special-agents/ https://ktvo.com/news/local/northeast-missouri-man-faces-multiple-charges-for-stolen-property-and-drug-possession https://www.brunswicktimes-gazette.com/article_dc7e5412-73fd-11ee-a839-b7d8ae4ba147.html   More Places You Can Listen to Off-Farm Income And Matt Brechwald:    

Zeke and Elliot notice that Tad is a little bit down.  The whole conversation leads to Zeke telling about his first sweetheart.   Find Z&E Stickers & Bracelets ... and other ways to support the podcast at zekeandelliot.com  Vocal Credits: Zeke: Michael Pardini Elliot & Simon:  Ernie McHone Tad:  Alex P Lily: Kelly White Winnie:  Kandy Keller Music: Leap of Faith Theme Song orchestrated by Jeff Roberts, sung by Rob Merrill with Ernie McHone Leap of Faith Ending Chord - by Jeff Roberts Walk Music by Oleg Kirilkov from Pixabay  Leap of Faith THEME instrumental - orchestrated by Jeff Roberts K&K banjo simonays__banjo-opener   Sound Effects by Pixabay  mail-box-open-and-close-sounds-001-8334, pencil-scratch-2-32262, two-people-walking-along-a-gravel-road-76463, birds-chirping-04-6771, cowbell door Ribbit shop, 378908__13gkopeckak__bike-ride-with-bell, squeaky-chair-37520, Footsteps on wood floor, tool-box-sounds-2-101168, socket-wrench-2-26455, Clock ticking Sound Effect, 463036__iamaviolin__birds-and-pond-ambience, Rustling foliage 2, walking, Dry flowers & Twigs rustling, Bucket iron, Classroom talk, handbell-81953, Classroom background, walking-on-pebbles-74322, walking-on-small-gravel-42533, Water Splash

Step into a meadow where the world is bathed in a gentle golden light.   The grass sways gracefully, creating a rhythmic dance that whispers secrets to the breeze. In this tranquil haven, every blade tells a story, and each leaf seems to dance with nature's gentle wind.   As you stand amidst this serene scenery, the leaves at your feet rustle, a comforting murmur of life beneath your toes. The air carries the scent of earth and flowers, a fragrant invitation to let go of stress and be present in this moment.   Above, the sky stretches wide and endless, a canvas of serene blues and soft pinks, where birds flutter and sing their morning songs. Their melodies weave through the air, creating a living symphony of nature's own composition.    Amidst this natural symphony, relaxing music weaves its way, adding a layer of tranquility to the scene and guiding you into a state of deep calm.    As you close your eyes, you can almost feel the warmth of the sun on your skin, hear the rustling leaves at your feet, and see the vibrant meadow stretching out before you.   This episode is a vivid, sensory journey, a moment of respite in a world filled with motion.   Allow yourself to be carried away by this meadow's gentle embrace, to let the colors, scents, and sounds wash over you. Whether for relaxation, focus, meditation, or sleep, this is an invitation to immerse yourself in a world where time slows, and the soul finds its own quiet rhythm.   When is the perfect time to listen to this episode ?   If you're struggling to fall asleep due to stress, anxiety or insomnia, you can listen to relaxing music and nature sounds to sleep faster and deeper and calm your mind. It will help you to slow down your thoughts and drift into a peaceful slumber and deep sleep.   When you're feeling stressed, anxious and overwhelmed, taking a few moments to listen to relaxing music and nature sounds can be a powerful way to manage your emotions and regain a sense of calm. It will help to slow your heart rate and breathing, easing tension in your body and allowing you to relax and let go of any worries or stress.   Whether you're practicing meditation, mindfulness, journaling or yoga, relaxing music, white noise and nature sounds can be valuable tools for a better session.   You can also use sounds of nature as your study music or work music to enhance your focus and help yourself reach a state of flow.   If you're looking to unwind after a long day, or simply want to take some time to relax and recharge, listening to relaxing music or sounds of nature in general can be a wonderful way to do so, making it easier to lose yourself in a good book or to simply enjoy the moment.   Finally, relaxing sounds of nature can also be a powerful way to add a touch of romance and magic to your everyday life.

—- Recorded August 6, 2023. --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/soundsoftheshore/support

Welcome in to the Friday ReFresh brought to you by Howell Wealth Management. Financial security is something many of us strive to achieve in our lives. Whether you are concerned for your own financial needs or those of your family or your business, Greg Howell can help you with a plan to get on the road to financial security. Contact Greg Howell today at 931-638-1576 or email him at Gregory.a.howell@nm.com Whistles. Footsteps. Ringing of Bells. Giggling. Squeaking. Rustling of papers. Whispers. Shouting. Clanking of swings. Just a few sounds of the sites currently located all over the world responsible for some extremely important projects. They may not look like much just yet, but many of them are just starting out. Some still have matching embroidered pants and shirts. Others don ruffled sleeves and pants.  Still more wear athletic shorts year round. They carry their lunch boxes to the worksite- many containing the aptly named lunchables. Those lunch boxes are connected to a larger bag containing their tools for construction. Books, pencils, rulers, calculators, binders, folders, and maybe pocket sized hand sanitizer…these work sites are notoriously infested with germs. Links mentioned in this episode: http://www.benandtravis.com http://www.facebook.com/groups/benandtravis http://www.patreon.com/benandtravis Reframing Hope Book https://www.benandtravis.com/books Helping. Healing. Humor. with Ben and Travis: https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/batify/id1457601152?mt=2&uo=4 Good Old Fashioned Dislike podcast: https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/good-old-fashioned-dislike/id1643163790 This podcast is hosted by ZenCast.fm

Immerse yourself in the world of stress relief with calming music that combines the soothing melodies of a piano, gentle nature sounds, and a relaxing atmosphere. This enchanting combination is designed to create a tranquil and serene experience, helping you unwind and find inner peace. The delicate notes of the piano gracefully blend with the sounds of nature, such as the gentle rustling of leaves, the soft patter of raindrops, or the melodic chirping of birds. Together, they form a harmonious symphony that transports you to a serene environment, away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. The soothing melodies and calming rhythms of the piano can have a profound impact on your well-being. They can help slow down your breathing, lower your heart rate, and promote a sense of relaxation and tranquility. As you listen, allow the music to wash over you, releasing tension and stress, and inviting a sense of calmness into your mind and body. The incorporation of nature sounds adds an additional layer of serenity to the music. The gentle whispers of the wind, the peaceful sounds of flowing water, or the subtle rustling of leaves create a connection to the natural world, fostering a sense of grounding and harmony within you. The relaxing atmosphere further enhances the stress-relieving qualities of the music. Whether it's the gentle crackling of a fireplace, the soft glow of candlelight, or the comforting presence of ambient lighting, the ambiance creates a serene space where you can fully immerse yourself in the calming music and find solace. Experience the power of this calming music as it embraces you in its soothing embrace. Let it guide you on a journey of relaxation, providing a respite from the pressures of life and rejuvenating your mind, body, and spirit. Stress relief, Calming music, Piano, Nature sounds, Relaxing atmosphere, Tranquil, Serene, Unwind, Inner peace, Melodies, Gentle, Rustling leaves, Raindrops, Birds chirping, Harmonious, Symphony, Escape, Everyday life, Well-being, Breathing, Heart rate, Relaxation, Tranquility, Tension, Stress, Calmness, Mind and body, Nature connection, Grounding, Harmony, Whispering wind, Flowing water, Rustling leaves, Connection, Natural world, Ambiance, Fireplace crackling, Candlelight, Ambient lighting, Solace, Embrace, Journey, Rejuvenation. Support our mission of spreading relaxation and wellness by rating and reviewing our podcast on your preferred platform. Your feedback helps us improve and enables others to discover the benefits of our soothing sounds. Enhance your listening experience by subscribing to our ad-free version, immersing yourself in uninterrupted tranquility.  Clicking Here  Join our community of relaxation seekers and embark on a journey of self-discovery. Subscribe, rate, and review Meditation Sounds today and unlock a world of serenity and rejuvenation.  Email List Support this podcast  https://www.meditationsoundspodcast.com Say goodbye to stubborn belly fat with our revolutionary product! Our formula is designed to target and dissolve unwanted fat, leaving you with a slimmer, more toned midsection. Try it now and experience the results for yourself. #dissolvebellyfat #slimandtoned http://bit.ly/3jV1Ip1 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Unwind with the calming sounds of nature, accompanied by high-definition visuals that transport you to serene landscapes. Immerse yourself in the beauty and tranquility of nature as you listen to the gentle rustling of leaves, the soothing flow of a babbling brook, the melodious chirping of birds, and the rhythmic crashing of ocean waves. These natural sounds have a profound effect on our well-being, helping us to relax, reduce stress, and find inner peace. They provide a respite from the hustle and bustle of daily life, allowing us to connect with the serenity and harmony of the natural world. With high-definition visuals, you can enhance your experience and bring nature's beauty right into your space. Whether it's a peaceful forest, a picturesque beach, a tranquil meadow, or a majestic mountain range, these visuals transport you to breathtaking landscapes, creating a sense of calm and rejuvenation. As you immerse yourself in the sounds and visuals of nature, take a moment to breathe deeply and let go of any tension or worries. Allow the peaceful ambiance to wash over you, grounding you in the present moment and inviting a state of deep relaxation. Whether you use these calming sounds and visuals for meditation, relaxation, sleep, or as a background ambiance for daily activities, they provide a soothing escape from the stresses of life. Let nature's symphony and stunning visuals guide you to a place of serenity and renewal. Unwind, Calming sounds of nature, High-definition visuals, Serene landscapes, Tranquility, Rustling leaves, Babbling brook, Chirping birds, Ocean waves, Well-being, Relaxation, Reduce stress, Inner peace, Respite, Hustle and bustle, Natural world, Beauty, Connection, Harmony, Daily life, Space, Peaceful forest, Picturesque beach, Tranquil meadow, Majestic mountain range, Breathtaking landscapes, Calm, Rejuvenation, Breathe deeply, Tension, Worries, Grounding, Present moment, Deep relaxation, Meditation, Sleep, Background ambiance, Symphony, Stunning visuals, Serenity, Renewal. Support our mission of spreading relaxation and wellness by rating and reviewing our podcast on your preferred platform. Your feedback helps us improve and enables others to discover the benefits of our soothing sounds. Enhance your listening experience by subscribing to our ad-free version, immersing yourself in uninterrupted tranquility.  Clicking Here  Join our community of relaxation seekers and embark on a journey of self-discovery. Subscribe, rate, and review Meditation Sounds today and unlock a world of serenity and rejuvenation.  Email List Support this podcast  https://www.meditationsoundspodcast.com Say goodbye to stubborn belly fat with our revolutionary product! Our formula is designed to target and dissolve unwanted fat, leaving you with a slimmer, more toned midsection. Try it now and experience the results for yourself. #dissolvebellyfat #slimandtoned http://bit.ly/3jV1Ip1 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Original Air Date: August 26, 1938Host: Andrew RhynesShow: The Lone RangerPhone: (707) 98 OTRDW (6-8739) Stars:• Earle Graser (Lone Ranger)• John Todd (Tonto) Writer:• Fran Striker Producer:• George W. Trendle Music:• Ben Bonnell Exit music from: Roundup on the Prairie by Aaron Kenny https://bit.ly/3kTj0kK

Original Air Date: August 26, 1938Host: Andrew RhynesShow: The Lone RangerPhone: (707) 98 OTRDW (6-8739) Stars:• Earle Graser (Lone Ranger)• John Todd (Tonto) Writer:• Fran Striker Producer:• George W. Trendle Music:• Ben Bonnell Exit music from: Roundup on the Prairie by Aaron Kenny https://bit.ly/3kTj0kK

Tonight on The Last Word: Donald Trump desperately throws out new defenses in the classified documents case. Also, the Supreme Court rejects the GOP's bid to give legislatures unchecked power over elections. Plus, Democrats demand the Supreme Court to conduct investigations of its scandals. And ProPublica reports that a GOP billionaire paid for a Justice Samuel Alito fishing trip. Neal Katyal, Glenn Kirschner, Rep. Daniel Goldman and Jamelle Bouie join Lawrence O'Donnell.

[00:30] Trump Rustled Papers! (16 minutes) According to a CNN exclusive report, special investigator Jack Smith has obtained a secret audio recording of Donald Trump discussing a classified document. CNN admits it hasn't heard the recording, but sources have told the failing news network that Trump referred to the classified document as “if it was in front of him,” and that the recording “captures the sound of paper rustling, as if Trump was waving the document around.” CNN admits it's not clear though if the papers were actually the classified documents Trump was discussing. [17:00] Debt Ceiling (10 minutes) House Republicans have passed a bill on the debt ceiling. More Democrats ended up voting for the bill than Republicans, which tells you everything you need to know about the Republicans who voted for it. [26:30] Trump's Popularity (10 minutes) Despite years of attacks, Donald Trump persists as the presidential favorite in 2024. Meanwhile, Democrats are puzzled why Joe Biden's ratings are so low despite all the “success” they say he's had. [36:00] Celtic Throne Feedback (7 minutes) [43:00] The Importance of Family (12 minutes) Family is under attack like never before because the devil hates what marriage and family represent. In this segment, we discuss why God created marriage.

As you take a deep breath, you are transported to a peaceful meadow, surrounded by majestic trees that sway to the rhythm of the wind. The wind sounds begin to fill your ears with their serene melodies, like a symphony of nature. The gentle breeze rustles through the leaves, creating a soothing rustling sound that resonates throughout the meadow. As you visualize the scenery, you feel a sense of calmness wash over you. The rustling sound of the leaves and the distant sound of flowing water all come together to create an atmosphere of peace and tranquility. As you continue to listen to the wind sounds and white noise from nature, you begin to feel more relaxed and focused. The stresses of the day fade away as you immerse yourself in the sounds of nature. You find yourself becoming more aware of your surroundings, noticing the smallest details of the world around you. It is no wonder why listening to nature sounds, such as wind sounds or natural white noise, can help with sleep, meditation, relaxation, or focus. The sounds of nature have a calming effect on the mind and body, reducing stress and promoting a sense of well-being. By listening to wind sounds, you can escape the chaos of the modern world and find solace in the peaceful rhythms of nature. In summary, wind sounds have a therapeutic effect on the mind and body, helping to induce relaxation, sleep, meditation and promote focus. By immersing yourself in the sounds of nature, you can experience a greater sense of peace and tranquility, helping you to achieve a more restful and restorative sleep, a deeper meditative state, or a heightened sense of focus and productivity for your work or study session. So take a deep breath, close your eyes, and let the wind sounds transport you to a place of serenity and calm. So, when can you listen to this episode ? If you're struggling to fall asleep due to stress, anxiety or insomnia, you can listen to wind sounds or natural white noise to sleep faster and deeper and calm your mind. The gentle melodies of birdsong will help you to slow down your thoughts and drift into a peaceful slumber and deep sleep. When you're feeling stressed, anxious and overwhelmed, taking a few moments to listen to these rhythmic wind sounds and nature sounds can be a powerful way to manage your emotions and regain a sense of calm. The soft and peaceful nature sounds will help to slow your heart rate and breathing, easing tension in your body and allowing you to relax and let go of any worries or stress. It will recharge you with positive energy to continue your day on a better note. Whether you're practicing meditation, mindfulness, journaling or yoga, relaxing nature sounds and wind sounds can be valuable tools for cultivating a deeper sense of inner peace and stillness. If you're looking to unwind after a long day, or simply want to take some time to relax and recharge, listening to nature sounds and sounds of the wind can be a wonderful way to do so. You may find that as you listen, your mind becomes more open and creative, making it easier to lose yourself in a good book or to simply enjoy the moment. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

There's a new squirrel in town and she's got Lenny all out of sorts. When trouble comes knocking, will he stand his ground or turn tail and run? Visit www.zekeandelliot.com and support the podcast!  Purchase a bracelet or make a tax deductible donation. This is the last episode in Season 2.  Join our newsletter for updated news and Season 3 starting date.  BE SURE you've subscribed on your podcast app so you don't miss a minute! Vocal Credits: Wally/Elliot:  Ernie McHone Lenny/Zeke: Michael Pardini Peanut: Leah Busick Hazel/Nash: Kandy Keller AL: Nate Busick Narrator: Kelly White Mr Mouse: Jeremiah Collins Pistachio:  Jaclyn Sheldon SFX Credits: Bluesy hip hop loop -109008  Music by AudioCoffee from Pixabay - maybe not  Music by SergeQuadrado from Pixabay Music by Grand_Project from Pixabay  Crazy Chase  Music by RomanSenykMusic from Pixabay Comedy Cinematic Inspiring Music by SergeQuadrado from Pixabay Life of wandering wizard Music by Music_For_Videos from Pixabay a jazz piano  Sound Effect from Pixabay:  Stumble, small group applause, body falling to ground, envelope opened, Water dripping large echo, Rustling a newspaper, newspaper rustle, jumping onto a hard surface with shoes and some walking, bush movement, running through grass and leaves in the woods, fuegomoviendoseligeramente - candle, walking on pebbles, walking through leaves 

Tip Of The Week Money can disappear very fast Rural Crime In The U.S. https://www.tri-cityherald.com/news/local/crime/article274240930.html https://bluebonnetnews.com/2023/04/12/montgomery-county-sheriffs-office-seeking-tips-for-stolen-tractor-trailer-in-cleveland/ https://www.kait8.com/2023/04/12/stolen-fertilizer-truck-found-submerged-ditch/ Across The Pond, Down Under And Up Above https://www.farmwatcher.co.uk/alerts/man-arrested-and-charged-after-£70k-machinery-theft-in-aberdeenshire?utm_campaign=171d27cd-18d0-44e6-82a9-21722119cf7d&utm_source=so&utm_medium=mail&cid=2a9cfada-76bc-4efd-8b52-0c6a560c9d01 https://www.youngwitness.com.au/story/8155933/fears-for-20-two-week-old-stolen-ostrich-chicks/ https://www.kildarenow.com/news/home/1084978/kildare-gardai-investigating-after-horse-transporter-and-puppies-stolen.html Africa https://www.bbc.com/news/world-africa-65221387 https://chimpreports.com/dokolo-prison-escapee-killed-by-mob/ https://www.the-star.co.ke/news/2023-04-12-kinangop-farmers-angry-over-theft-of-livestock-farm-produce/ Chalk One Up For The Good Guys https://houstonherald.com/2023/04/man-indicted-on-theft-of-timber-on-mark-twain-national-forest/ https://tscra.org/man-faces-felony-charges-in-robertson-county-cattle-theft-case/?fbclid=IwAR3WmRMOCk-9Cp9aM5Gk0QSV8Mey1-jzaqMGtegT9DHBhmSuXveqJNjAk4w&mibextid=Zxz2cZ More Places You Can Listen to Off-Farm Income And Matt Brechwald:      

Do you need some wind therapy ? Did you know that the soothing sound of the wind and rustling leaves can create a peaceful and calming atmosphere, promoting relaxation, sleep, focus, and even upgrade your meditation practice ? When we listen to the wind, our brain registers a consistent and soothing sound, which can reduce stress and anxiety by slowing down our breathing and heart rate. It is the perfect soundtrack if you struggle to fall asleep due to anxiety, stress or insomnia. Additionally, the sound of rustling leaves provides a white noise effect, which can help to drown out distracting noises and promote a peaceful state of mind. The sound of the wind, rustling leaves and other forest soundscapes can also transport us to a natural environment, which is often associated with relaxation, calm and tranquility. Being in nature is known to have a restorative effect on our mind and body, and the sound of the wind and leaves can mimic that experience. Furthermore, listening to these sounds can help us focus and meditate by providing a point of focus or an anchor for our attention. By directing our attention to the sounds, we can become more mindful and aware of our surroundings, which can enhance our ability to concentrate and enter a meditative state. Overall, the sound of the wind and rustling leaves can be a simple yet effective tool for promoting relaxation, sleep, focus, and meditation. So, feel free to close your eyes if you can, slow down your breathing and imagine yourself in the most peaceful and green forest. Then, let the wind teleport you to this place with each blow, let these relaxing nature sounds anchor you in this mesmerizing forest and keep visualizing every single detail of it. Enjoy Mother Nature's gift. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Josie Bassett Morris' life epitomised the Wild West. She grew up on a homestead in the late 18th century, in Northern Utah, USA. Their home was situated on the Outlaw Trail and gun-slingers like Butch Cassidy and the Sun Dance Kid would stay as they passed through. Her mother was a forbidding cattle rancher and Josie quickly learnt the trade. As an adult, she was known for her quick wit, hardy lifestyle on the land and the many husbands she got through- she was smart, self-reliant and kind; a force they struggled to reckon with. As an older woman, she set up her home in the wilderness of Cub Creek where she lived completely off the land, stealing nearby cattle when she needed meat. When the depression hit, she brewed her own corn whiskey to sell. In the mid-20th century, she became a living legend - a movie starring Doris Day was even made about her- and she remains a legend of the old west to this day.While in the USA, Dan took a visit to the Uintah Heritage Museum in Vernal, where he spoke with curator LeeAnn Denzer about life on the frontier and Josie Bassett Morris' extraordinary life.You can find out more about the museum and the history of the frontier at the UINTAH COUNTY HERITAGE MUSEUM website.It was produced by Mariana Des Forges and edited by Dougal Patmore.If you'd like to learn more, we have hundreds of history documentaries, ad-free podcasts and audiobooks at History Hit - subscribe to History Hit today!To download the History Hit app please go to the Android or Apple store.Complete the survey and you'll be entered into a prize draw to win 5 Historical Non-Fiction Books- including a signed copy of Dan Snow's 'On This Day in History'. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.