Inch foot yard mile lesson plans for third grade |

Anblitonoimz has four or five tongues, four mouths & five or em.
Th's firstsnd mouth urinaes fortso does "Coffee of a lifetime" Hes sputters, slurping up a cup of that good mud. "Splots dreams in thirty of our microwaves".
Ambipzonnzi doesn't cipher. "Let 's get born & roll down the hill, We get born & roll down the hill" His fourth one shoots ,in south-east yardings
"yearlong coffee beans, coffee plant. papa nu guineaa. Honduras. Lofty without a saddle". a third mouth wisses out sorta westishly through heavy phlegm
He twists to explore "Learn to drive, learn to walk. Crawl from town to town Babe. Crawl on all four wheel & kKaww like a Bird" anbipozond's mouth smacks on
"No point in crying over spillt milk"
"You keep saying that!". his northeast mote swirls in southwestard recounts
Eeps
from elswhere "Every auction is just the loudest, Heather". else now mutters a funnel with propose. "houses are birds with fourty wheels on a similar day". Insteebchlo raises his hand with a smile eager to answer the daily question. he starts to wave as he catches the attensions.
Noesteeblichavl has houses for heads, he sstarts jittering. "Your eyes are windows, someone needs to clean your windows. Your house is a head. Clean your windows off annd surprise the neighbors dog!" ... "hello"
"you're not driving to my off-grid parasite with that attitude". Ampliurpoznenzi shuffles his gums ,Crawling down the asphalt road on his hands & knees proudly. He might think he is an entrepreneur for a while or aprehend himselgf as an connoisseur forwhile.
"oh drink gasoline lika subaru" oensteeblih tweeks
"I've an appotite to put my teeth to the curb!" Ambeplerznz snaps & gnashes at houses
his foldy gob norths "One step at a time! Learn to crawl, Learn to walk, Buy some land babe, heyhow does much a hotel cost hahh".
"CAWWW" Apmliurpozoenzi's mouth makes a bird noise. having a bite yer own ear off & spit it at the coroner day.
"I think you will drink gasoline like my aunties subaru" houses heads repeats.
"Bvrruuuummmm" Ampliurpoznenzi's mouth does the car noise now. He's going somewhere, past the speed limit ,another four kilometers & he is gonna need his diaper change. Better get his wallet ready.
"You slurp gasoline, like ants in a subaru" Noesteeblo 'peats. Amblurdozinnzi pops into more civilized bucket. the house curls into a smile now. "look at youu!, you've become such a confident driver now!".
"C'mon, don't be so hard on yourself" Abemlurdozonz mremarks vaclantly. "So I could wear your face? Is it losing it's grisps on reality in here or me?"
Nostlible smeoes to him "Bro you okay?"
.....
"Ye get born into like machine & fall through like pachinko scottlander" . "Offered five things strange for new emergant traditions"
"Third tape recorder to the rotting egg translates the scripture, we're all just pachinko machines rolling down a hill arn't we?"
sorta just sautering around, peaking in through all the windows in the neighborhood, he's a freak tapping on the glass. Abmlorznonza is trying to climb into the garbage disposal, he wants to become ground beef or he wants to arrive to a wedding.
"Hey Do ies Yoeur Reaelity Okaey?". he mutters himself
Abamorbzonenz's large nose covers the porch in snot. He is smashed in through the windows. everything covered in snot. Dissassembles Th' Constructiom. "everything is covered in snot!!" He complains! "I SAID SEASAW. I SAID". Seasaw
...
"Highly Functional we are. Violences with the earthly gravitations ,Maneuvers to gnaw your tongue away at the glory hole ssir". Houses for heads whispers easy to his parole officer
.....
Ablimurzozna is inside the building, meeting all the wacky charicatures, really looking for something to snack on
"snooze on the cheesblock wiyhth a thousant feet of square areah". Zimberly's gonna need to fester up if she's gonna make it out of here alive.
-"come into my villa? withyer 6,000 foot long arms? I'll teach you the mannerisms" she stand combative with a toaster under her arm, holding the plug in her other hand.
The kitchen fatefuly occupied, Ablimzundz rushes square around & through down hallway, he drips the sweat "round nor square corners, I'm deduction points" his bin echoes offa chair in the passing.
... "I'm not just a petting zoo, I'm also a boarding school for chiropractory on the week-ends". Chochizialule snides from a toilet room "I pay money here"
Ambliuoznenzai screams, he begins to shrivel up & become hairy. "lettuce beef union, where did you go? lettuce beef onion. ".
"Let Us ..decode your one dimensoinal braine". presences Noestivbyuchevlo
another charicature interrups "I PLACED THE EYE INSIDE OF TJE HEAD & THE HEAD ON TOP OF THE BODY". Martin chimes over the loudspeaker. feeling like an eyeball inside of the tube today. just like all other days. an irreversible sense of time "I think I'll industrial my furnishments enjoy & pass out" He obviously has the plans.
"Do Not Touch Me". the subaru won't calm down.
"ellen my knuckle jelly is swearing. Juxtapose penguin my knuckle. Whatever fucking. My justice system swears at me."
Garvezetozald nouts at he,
"I can't relax. I'm on chameleon because my eyes move on their own. Indipendently from one anobther. " Amprulpozanzi won't shut up or he wouldn't
Nestavloblica tries to comprehend or understand "Autism is also a bell of god? Hey! Slow Down! Howhy are you aging so rapidly , in this metal bucket over here?"
Ampeliuropoznnz's wheels berate" DONN'T TOUCH MEE. I SAAID DONN'T TOUCHH MEE". He revs it!
"Hold it! Give your skin prison!" Windows for eyes shudders urgently. "Take me to your northern hemisphere! okay? okay?!"
Theres multiples of them
"No you No youKnow what You know you could Use?" they all say in unison
"AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" Ambluboznecviblo screams in whemchever direction heis headed ?
windows for nostrils speaks out loud "wel A well balanced curriculum would be dandy for starters".
Garvezetozald escorts ambinzopnonzor back to the pave "aluminum foil, very shiny in your bank deposit you know, But don't listen to me. Why would I fucking say anything ". He grumbles the offput as retreating it back inside.
ambilurbonznenance isnot having it. He's murking off in the anger pavement shoes. "Don't change the subject, I know you're hiding things from me".
Ambilerbeentsli "shiny aluminum foil heaps in my bank deposit". out of a different mouth or head after that whatever it said
.............................
intrusion layering dish. splattered withe batter. "Undetermined. loosely your own imagines, or yourself into they inretrospective periphany? who are you defying here? I did I hear (that right)?"
"I said build your little hhouse outthere, and& record yourf fairy shit, I stabbed you really hard with the fork" sends the not know says "yeah buddy, nascar teeth better be stoppin in to be stoppin tobe takina pittstop stop inn" Heaps he "STOP IT ,STOPP STIP. STOP IN THEs PIT FOR A STOP NOWW"
"are you been taking all oyour supplements skin-jaw pirate attorney?". eyuunNoesteblijhavwl Creoaks to the fiend
Pramblestabhon starts talk about lands all sorts and Louis Vuitton" We drop him off atthe nearest station
Scubs scenfen fenhinit. The cold touch of a stranger.
"Shd diedent mean to sdo that withe her subaru" "make the fuzzy worls ceawl owt but were notbhgoana takklk to you. Beat toyojar head with thea hmmm
The dufuzzys crawl out of the brain spot "COFFEEE AND TORTILLA CHIPS" Ambliubyonzunzi blares. He is crying the tears. "COFFEEE AND TORTILLA CHIPS" A second mouth of he shouts as well joins in.
"eyebrows, eyebrows jaws & toes, heavy finger-slips. uprightnowyou. Our gene pool is speaking~ (????) & having remained focused on the road this whole time"
...
"ofcourse We want gimberly to fall asleep at the wheel, make it look like it was an accident" Ampliunornzi agrees with himself "We want this we want that we want nothing more for ourselves" He's done & settled but restless & jiving. He keeps on driving, he worrys somedaybody will cut his brakes for him.
"No I think You betetetetter get onto bed on time " Noestelevblilpo bleyowabs abashed "sleep onfor more decades?, crawl on this earth, listen to the musics of the centuries?" nietstravlo attemptates their reconciel
Ampliupzinzunzi agleams unto the sedatiea. relloxed . enloungicated Dormitoitory. Parked something or other an a benchpt he rwests "If we don't chop uff all of the limbs then don'T throW uP on TimE." it complains. something seperate &.. he produces a small thermos from his (cupholder)
Ambliornuunzi Takes another sip of this coffee. He rolls the liquid around his tongue & swishes it in his mouth before hes swellow. "Brazil, Ecuador" He feels the longitude, He feeles the latitude, the coordinates of the bean. "South america, central america, yeah, You can taste it". The bitter wash is guzzled before it's swallowe. Amiburzobowenzanzha Licks it's teeth and gums. Functional piss distillery. With gusto he announce "Brazil, we need go to Brrazziill eyah". starts he runningh & He trips & smashes one of his mouths into the curb, If had he a tongue from there off bitten would it have been but lucky him, only smashing his teeth to scream & writhe.

I spent decades as a six-mile-a-day walker. I started having foot trouble about nine years ago but couldn't find a competent podiatrist at the time. Then, around 2020, my right foot and ankle started collapsing.
Imaging showed that I'd torn my posterior tibialis, my arch had collapsed and become arthritic, and I had several chronic sprains, including a new sprain superimposed over an old tear. I had three surgeries to repair all that damage, and it looked like the things that got repaired were doing well, but the collapse is still progressing. Now I have a torn tendon that definitely wasn't torn a year ago, along with new arthritis in a new place., so I'm planning for more surgery.
I've really been tearing my connective tissues just by walking around a little. I take my time when I walk, carry a cane, and never leave the house without wearing my ankle foot orthotics, but the damage doesn't stop. I'm trying to hang on to my mobility, and every surgery buys me a few more months of function before something else goes wrong. I don't know if I'm going to need to use a wheelchair someday. Maybe, and I'll cross that bridge when I come to it, but I'm trying to stay on my feet as long as I can.
Can anyone relate? Not that I want anyone else to be going through this, but it feels like I'm struggling alone.

I am riding about 63 miles on Sunday with 6500 feet of elevation. Some 20% grades. It’ll be my longest ride and most elevation gained. Half feeling underprepared but I ride almost everyday and have done 45ish miles with 5000 feet of gain. The elevation profile has a big 2000ft climb in the last 20 miles. That’s kind of like the last hurdle I’ll have to cross before a long descent.
I fully expect to be toast after the ride. What’s the best plan for the day? My plan is to ease into the day and take rests but not too long since I cool down during descents and stops. It’s a race so there will be aid stations along the way but I’ll still pack water, salt and snacks and get whatever I can at the aid stations. I think the last climb will by far be the worst just due to fatigue.
Goal is to finish and not be dead last but I’d also embrace the fact that I got out there and did a grueling race and ended up DFL.
Any tips and encouragement is welcome.

As we know they were originally planning a trilogy which never happened and probably never will. What story lines would you have liked to see play out ? What do you think they had planned out?
Honestly we have no idea what that would have looked like though here’s my version
Days Gone 2
Fast forward a few years. The map remains the same but expanded upon to the south west. I’d think deacon would remain the protagonist, seeing as the fans took quite liking to him.
Deacon has embraced his leadership skills and leads a host of bikers clearing out caves or something. Boozer among them. We see Deacon at his happiest here among a band of brothers & friends, as it was before the shit
With the Colonel dead in the west, warlords & the survivors that follow them emerge left & right in new parts of the map. Kouri among them. Some of these camps very well equipped, almost resembling current day technology & lifestyles. Many of them occupy large towns & cities, fortifying every inch and living lavishly. Their personalities range from readers to brutes, psychopaths and philosophers. Despite the fact they’re all proud men, a fragile peace holds. However with the zombies becoming less prevalent, they begin to look for new enemies. If the player attacks one of their patrols or encampments, they’ll become hostile like in Skyrim or something.
Anyways, we are going to see tucker die in a slave uprising at some point and replaced by a democracy. That guy with the cowboy hat is going to get tarred and feathered or something. Lisa too is going to come into play. I think she’s going to be a psychopath regardless Deacon will keep trying to help her, tho she’s too far gone and we see a parallel to Skizzo & Iron Mike.
At one point Deacon comes across Nero slaughtering a camp. They gotta eat brains to not spazz out or some shit. Price to pay for being a super zombie. Some plot twist ensues like the Colonel knew about the nero super mutants hence why he would attack em but he didn’t tell anyone so panic wouldn’t ensue.
One warlord raids another, he retaliates & before you know it all hell breaks loose and you a free for all breaks out. Deacons camp is caught in the middle of it.
Humanity fights amongst itself. Tragedy ensues. It is a bloody battle, humanity is brought to a low. Spiked heads, disembodies corpses & slaughter scenes become a common sight. For every low, a new low follows. Babes are torn from their mothers breast and spiked upon bayonets for fun. Savagery rules unchecked. Fields filled with flayed men on sticks can be found. Cruelty becomes the norm. Zombies become a means for torture and depravity. The lands are brazen with ash & the people weary. Deacons own motorbike host are ambushed and slaughtered within the chaos, their heads mounted outside lost lake , Boozer among them.
The fighting leaves Deacons settlement as a pile of rubble, but deacon is persistent in his revenge and for every man of his killed, he spikes 10 of theirs. His fury follow all those who have any association to the murder of his band of bikers. Even those who’s only crime is being related to the perpetrators are not spared. Deacon is a cold, bitter man.
Deacon then finds out that lost lake is Nero’s next target. Maybe obrian followed him. He plans to relocate
The game ends with Sarah dying, maybe to Lisa or a daughter, son, mother or brother of one of deacons victims.
Days Gone 3
Game starts off and Deacon is mad with grief. He brutally kills lisa or whoever killed Sarah. But their infant child needs him and eventually he somewhat pulls himself back together though he’s bitter, angry and violent
He remains a shell of his former self, cold and distant. The warlords are weakened from warring with one another and are helpless when their dominions are getting engulfed by swarms of Nero soldiers who plan to rid the world of man. Only the few will be spared, to be raised as farm animals for food.
The third game would be the finale so there would need to be a big war. The remaining warlords will band together to defeat Nero, Kouri among them, though at this point they are all a fraction of what they used to be. Their cities ash & rubble. Nero will arrive with the largest horde the game has ever seen. Thousands strong, wiping out every sign of life they come across. Thousands die as every position gets overrun.
Deacon and the other leaders manage organize a retreat with those strong enough to relocate and go to hot springs for their last stand. With tucker gone, it is thriving and remains the last untouched encampment.
When Nero reaches the walls of paradise springs, Fighting ensues. The siege of Hot Springs has begun. Cope dies with a smile on his face fighting government scum. Obrian feels bad and sacrifices himself for humanity by betraying Nero. Maybe deacon drops an atomic bomb on their headquarters, who knows. Or maybe everyone just relaxes a bit and coexists
In the end deacon learns to move on from Sarah, grieve healthily, and honor her memory through being a good father to their child. The game ends with flash forward scene and Hot springs is now a thriving town. The final scene shows Deacon and his kid riding motorcycles where him & boozer used to go. Or maybe it ends with an old Deacon telling his grandkids stories about the fallen legends of Iron mike, Sarah, Boozer, and how they saved the world
There’d definitely be a ton more plots, characters and locations & so on. Doubt this even encompasses a fraction of what it could have been.
Sucks we’ll never even have a clue

I am feeling stressed 24/7 and can never get all of my work (planning) done.. I am constantly rushing/panicking to figure out my next lesson during my prep, and stressing all evening, every evening and weekend, about what is coming the next day. Is this normal???
I have one 60 minute prep a day where I am trying to grade and create assignments, answer emails, stay organized, and (mostly) plan for lessons.. I also use my lunch hour every day for this stuff too, and I go in an hour early and stay an hour late every day, but I teach 4 subjects and I am drowning in stuff to do always.. help!!

Round 1, Pick 32 - Xavier Legette, WR, South Carolina:
NFL: Legette, who had a terrific final season at South Carolina, is physical and a big-time vertical threat. This addition should be a big part of Bryce Young’s development in Year 2.
CBS Sports: B+. They have to get weapons for Bryce Young, so landing him makes sense. He is a player who plays physical and runs better than you think. He’s only done it for one year.
ESPN: Coach Dave Canales said it best: Legette brings versatility. The Panthers absolutely fell in love with Legette's ability to make plays all over the field, from catching passes to jet sweeps to kick returns. That versatility at a skill position is something Bryce Young didn't have last season, so this adds a unique weapon to take pressure off the second-year quarterback. He is also big (6-foot-1, 221 pounds) and fast (4.39 40), unlike any other Carolina receiver. He's a perfect fit for what Canales wants to create with the pass and run games.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Can’t believe he is about to fulfill his dream of being picked in the 2nd round.
Round 2, Pick 46 - Jonathon Brooks, RB, Texas:
NFL: Had Brooks not suffered a torn ACL in November, he might have been a first-round pick. He's a shifty, speedy back who can hit the hole and go, and he should be Carolina's starter before long. I thought they might go center here, but Brooks makes sense for a team that lacked offensive juice.
CBS Sports: B-. Fun, three-down RB without much mileage on his legs. Can win between the tackle or on the perimeter and has feature back size. Elusive but not ridiculously in that regard. Fills a need but maybe a touch early. May not be 100% by September.
ESPN: As much as Canales has said he's excited about backs Chuba Hubbard and Miles Sanders, he obviously believed the running game needed an upgrade. You don't take a back in the second round unless you plan to use him, although Brooks may need time to fully recover from ACL surgery that caused him to miss the final three games last season. He's a playmaker who has a nose for the end zone (10 touchdowns on 187 carries last season), and general manager Dan Morgan said he was looking for guys who can score.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Mixes the milk and cereal in his mouth, one bite and drink at a time.
Round 3, Pick 72 - Trevin Wallace, LB, Kentucky:
NFL: A late addition to my top 100 prospects list, Wallace is a top-tier athlete who finally seemed to find his groove last season -- on special teams but especially on defense. He's capable of covering tight ends and running backs and should impact all four downs, but Wallace is young and could use a redshirt year before he's ready to be featured on defense.
CBS Sports: C. Stocky, springy off-ball LB with speed to the football but one of the least-effective block-defeaters/avoiders I’ve scouted at the position. Not around the football much in coverage but fluid zone drops and has the athleticism to run with TEs. Very good tackler. Just unique strengths/weaknesses.
ESPN: Morgan entered the draft looking for "dawg mentality'' and he got that in Wallace. "Dawg mentality means you don't care if you go hurt somebody,'' Wallace said. "You don't go in there soft. I want you to be scared of me.'' Wallace isn't necessarily a long-term replacement for 30-year-old Shaq Thompson, but his ability to cover the field side-to-side and with speed gives him the potential to do that. Give him a year or so behind Thompson and Josey Jewell and he could prove to be a Day 2 steal.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Enjoys going to the park to make faces at little kids, making them cry.
Round 4, Pick 101 - Ja’Tavion Sanders, TE, Texas:
NFL: Sanders is a fascinating athlete who remains in the developmental stage. He's not a quality blocker yet but has some untapped receiving skill. This is a worthy risk by general manager Dan Morgan and Co. as their hunt for playmakers continues.
CBS Sports: B. Big recruit who produced at Texas and is a smooth mover. Good, not amazing YAC and not a pure speed type. Minimal blocking chops. Reasonable weapon for Bryce Young but lacks burst so will have to get schemed up to get most of his catches in the NFL.
ESPN: Definitely an upgrade at a position that quarterback Young could have used some help from during his rookie season. Canales has spoken highly of Tommy Tremble, but he's not the dynamic pass-catching tight end that Sanders can become. Sanders had 99 receptions in three seasons, tops for a tight end in Texas history. He could pose problems for defenses, like Greg Olsen did during the development of quarterback Cam Newton. This was a no-brainer at this point.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Insists he can distinguish between 50 shades of beige.
Round 5, Pick 157 - Chau Smith-Wade, CB, Washington State:
NFL: Smith-Wade opened eyes with a solid week at the Senior Bowl, consistently showing up around the ball and disrupting passes. His length almost certainly makes him a nickel only on defense, but there's some potential here if CSW develops.
CBS Sports: B+. Agitating CB who played outside but will have a home in the slot in the NFL. Plays more athletically than his testing. Lightning quick feet. Because of his smaller size, he tends to opt for diving tackle attempts more than wrapping up. Speed is a concern but could be masked inside. Up for any challenge.
ESPN: A definite need for depth at a position where injuries have hurt the past few years. Smith-Wade will be a backup and special teamer at best this season. He offers speed (4.54 40) and nose for the football that GM Dan Morgan wants. He's coming off a soft-tissue injury that forced him to miss the final five games and is more of a project at this point. Nickel, where he had two interceptions in the Senior Bowl, may be his future in the NFL.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Thinks being a scrum master sounds kinda cool.
Round 6, Pick 200 - Jaden Crumedy, DT, Mississippi State:
NFL: Being 300-plus pounds and running a sub-5.0 40-yard dash gets you drafted. Crumedy doesn't have sterling production, but his maturity and experience should give him an edge in a fight for a roster spot in Carolina.
CBS Sports: C+. Older, very experienced interior rusher who won from multiple alignments in the SEC and has smooth athletic traits. Production never matched how fluid he is as an athlete and his hands. Needs to have a pass-rush plan more often. Has long stretches of invisibility. Plays hard every snap.
ESPN: This is totally a depth move. His ability to push the pocket is what Carolina will look for out of him in its 3-4 scheme. He likely won't be a threat to start, but he has the flexibility and size (6-4, 301) to play inside or out. Depth behind a solid starting three is key here.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Once put together a 50,000 piece puzzle. It was a picture of a cloud.
Round 7, Pick 240 - Michael Barrett, LB, Michigan:
NFL: Punishing hitter in a sawed-off frame. Barrett's poor length will be tough to overcome, but his forceful play style is inspiring.
CBS Sports: C+. Has a nice blend of traits - - power, burst, coverage skill - - but not always the quickest to read where the ball is going. Quicker than fast and needs to get better beating or avoiding blockers on the way to the football.
ESPN: Barrett is undersized at 5-11, 233 pounds, but he has a nose for the football and brings a physicality to the game that makes up for his lack of size. Barrett should get a chance to contribute immediately, at least on special teams.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Nursed a baby goat back to health after he hit it with a car.

I'm a project manager at a small MSP that has little in the way of consistent standardised processes and policies around project management and implementation. I'm working to change this, but I'm hoping to get some assistance from the community.
Depending on the project and the lead, our implementation varies widely. Our current process generally involves quoting from an estimation of labour and specific hardware needed, creating a "project ticket" in Zendesk and utilising third-party plugs to create linked sub-tickets for tasks. A very simple tracking files is whipped up in excel and used as a to-do list to ensure that tasks are completed, and incomplete tasks can be identified. Used more heavily for on-site implementations/upgrades to make sure that all items are ticked off. Lots of opportunities for post-implementation follow-up, review of lessons learnt, etc.
Being Zendesk, it's fairly limited, with updates in the ticket becoming permanent records and next to no collaboration tools, but it's the central platform used by our technical team, so it's familiar. Teams is used for chat functionality along with meetings to discuss project requirements, risks, implementation strategy etc but it's disjointed, to say the least. I personally use Loop pretty heavily and invite internal stakeholders, but this is barely used by others.
In the hopes of standardising our process to be a scalable solution, I was considering the following:

Teams group chat (small/simple project) or a dedicated Team (larger project) for centralised collaboration
A tab to a Loop Workspace for project planning and full-team collaboration
A tab linking to a (new) Microsoft Planner plan for tasks management
A tab for some kind of project quality/timeline/budget tracking option (excel file?)
A tab for some kind of project performance dashboard for at-a-glance visibility

Do others here use a similar strategy? If I could get some feedback from others on the above, I'd really appreciate it.
Some common projects that we action at the moment for our clients are Google Workspace/IMAP → Microsoft 365 migrations (turnkey), onboarding new managed clients, network upgrades and optimisations for existing pay-as-you-go/unmanaged clients and similar.
Our current internal tools are Microsoft 365 for email, Teams for internal chat communication (company updates, SharePoint/OneDrive for company documents (generally as references rather than collaboration), requests for additional support from the junior technical team, etc), Zendesk for tickets, IT Glue for documentation, configuration (data pulled from some other platforms to help streamline) and credentials management for each client (managed and unmanaged), Watchman Monitoring + Team Viewer + Jamf Pro/Intune/Meraki Systems Manager for device management (mix depends on the client), Xero for quoting (manually) and invoicing (triggered with an integration from Zendesk for unmanaged clients). We don't have anything for proposals, automated quoting/estimating.
Any and all suggestions and recommendations greatly appreciated. Thank you.

I have a house in Eastern MA that I’m looking to put heat in the basement of and I’d like some advice. The living spaces on the main floors are all heated by two multi zone ductless systems (48kBTU total) that do quite well for the space in our climate. I also have a center chimney with a large wood stove (55kBTU) that heats the whole house well when it is on. As this house was formerly heated with electric baseboard, theres no boiler in the basement and as a result, there is no source of heat down there and it gets down into the high 40’s mid winter. The basement is half finished, and I’d like to add some heating to help keep it warmer and make the space nicer overall. There is an open second flue on the chimney that I could use as exhaust, but it’s in the finished room.
Ideas so far: A: Add a third ductless system, maybe just a single 12k standalone. This would be pretty cost effective as I could DIY. I’m likely going to do solar in the somewhat near future, so more electric use isn’t bad. The downside of this, is I’m hugely reliant on electricity for heat, and I don’t have a whole house generator. I’d like something that could provide some baseline heating load if there happened to be a multi day power outage and I wasn’t around to keep the wood stove going.
B: Install another wood burning stove down there. This would be great in concept, but it’s not the most convenient place to carry wood down to, and I don’t necessarily want to maintain two fires all winter. It also isn’t very kid-friendly, as the finished side of the basement is a rec room type space.
C: Instal a propane fired heater of some kind down there. This is my favorite idea so far, but I don’t know which type of product would be best. I already have a propane bottle for my stove, so I could easily add a second load. I like the concept of a fossil fuel heat source that doesn’t require electricity, though I know some of the products do need power to run fans. I’m familiar with the direct vent style wall mounted heaters, but I don’t know if those could be set up to vent out of a flue on a masonry chimney instead. The basement is totally below grade and there is very little space high on the wall for a wall vent. (No real rim joist to punch through with something larger than a couple inches).
So that being said, my main question is what would be the best propane heater technology to use in a basement to supply the space with reliable and efficient heat? Should I just do another ductless system and get a generator to ease my mind? I do already have a 30A transfer switch installed but I don’t have a generator and I know 30A isn’t really enough to feed multiple ductless systems

The Collect
O God, the King of glory, you have exalted your only Son Jesus Christ with great triumph to your kingdom in heaven: Do not leave us comfortless, but send us your Holy Spirit to strengthen us, and exalt us to that place where our Savior Christ has gone before; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen.
Readings:
Psalm 97; 99; 100 Reading I Samuel 16:1–13a
Gospel: Matthew 8:18–27
18 Now when Jesus saw great multitudes about him, he gave commandment to depart unto the other side.
19 And a certain scribe came, and said unto him, Master, I will follow thee whithersoever thou goest
20 And Jesus saith unto him,The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head
21 And another of his disciples said unto him, Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father.
22 But Jesus said unto him,Follow me; and let the dead bury their dead.
23 And when he was entered into a ship, his disciples followed him.
24 And, behold, there arose a great tempest in the sea, insomuch that the ship was covered with the waves: but he was asleep.
25 And his disciples came to him, and awoke him, saying, Lord, save us: we perish.
26 And he saith unto them,Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?Then he arose, and rebuked the winds and the sea; and there was a great calm.
27 But the men marvelled, saying, What manner of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him!
Commentary:
Our study for today encompasses a collection of seemingly unrelated passages, but when viewed as a whole we find a great lesson in the cost of discipleship; not only for those who made up the first century church but for us today as well.
Although the verses recommended for this day begin with verse 18, by looking back at the rest of the chapter we find information which establishes the scene and gives us context for our understanding. Rather than to take a single verse at its face value, we must always look at the preceding verses as well as those that follow so as to thoroughly understand.
Assuming Matthews recollections of the events of chapter 8 are reflective of works of Christ that hapopened on the same day—and not events from throughout his ministry and lumped together here as Matthew wrote this Gospel years after the fact—we could conclude that our Lord had a busy day.
The chapter begins as Jesus is coming down off of the mountain where he preached the Sermon on the Mount, a great multitude of people following his every step, and a leper comes to worship him, he heals the man and tells him, “See thou tell no man; but go thy way, shew thyself to the priest, and offer the gift that Moses commanded, for a testimony unto them.” Then after entering Capernium a Roman Centurion comes to him asking Jesus to heal his servant. Impressed by the faith of a man who was not a Jew, but a Roman Gentile, Jesus healed the man’s slave by the authority of his word without even going to the slave’s bedside.
Matthew tells us that Jesus continued to heal many that day, beginning with Peter’s mother-in-law, then many others who were sick or possess by demons.
Our Lord had no qualms about healing the sick, but throughout the Gospels we can detect a note of concern on his part in that many were coming to him, apparently for the sole purpose of the healing of physical ailments, and not for the healing of spiritual illness. We find in more than one place, Jesus making the decision to cross over the Sea of Galilee, presumably so that he could teach away from the crowds that seemed to only want physical cures.
“Now when Jesus saw great multitudes about him, he gave commandment to depart unto the other side. And a certain scribe came, and said unto him, Master, I will follow thee whithersoever thou goest And Jesus saith unto him,The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head” (vs. 18-20)
In a time when most were illiterate and few could even write, Scribes held an important position. Scribes had knowledge of the law and could draft legal documents (contracts for marriage, divorce, loans, inheritance, mortgages, the sale of land, and the like). Every village had at least one scribe, and we can surmise that scribes enjoyed a certain degree of wealth due to the need of their services.
Jesus lived a very simple life, traveling about teaching the people of his plan for salvation, a life that was not glamorous and one without financial compensation. Jesus didn’t tell the man “No, you can’t follow Me.” But He told him the truth, without painting a glamorized version of what it was like to follow Him. This is the opposite of techniques used by many evangelists today, but Jesus wanted the man to know what it would really be like.
“And another of his disciples said unto him, Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father. But Jesus said unto him,Follow me; and let the dead bury their dead.” (vs. 21-22)
“Actually, this man did not ask for permission to dig a grave for his deceased father. He wanted to remain in his father’s house and care for him until the father died. This was obviously an indefinite period, which could drag on and on. This man was another of His disciples; yet he did not follow Jesus as he should have, nor as the 12 disciples did. This shows us that the term disciples has a somewhat broad meaning in the Gospel of Matthew, and must be understood in its context. The man wanted to follow Jesus, but not just yet. He knew it was good and that he should do it, but he felt there was a good reason why he could not do it now.” (Guzik)
“The excuse that this disciple made, to defer an immediate attendance on Christ (v. 21); "Lord, suffer me first to go and bury my father. Before I come to be a close and constant follower of thee, let me be allowed to perform this last office of respect to my father; and in the mean time, let it suffice to be a hearer of thee now and then, when I can spare time." His father (some think) was now sick, or dying, or dead; others think, he was only aged, and not likely in a course of nature, to continue long; and he desired leave to attend upon him in his sickness, at his death, and to his grave, and then he would be at Christ's service. This seemed a reasonable request, and yet it was not right. He had not the zeal he should have had for the work, and therefore pleaded this, because it seemed a plausible plea.” (Henry)
“And when he was entered into a ship, his disciples followed him. And, behold, there arose a great tempest in the sea, insomuch that the ship was covered with the waves: but he was asleep. And his disciples came to him, and awoke him, saying, Lord, save us: we perish. And he saith unto them,Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith? Then he arose, and rebuked the winds and the sea; and there was a great calm. But the men marvelled, saying, What manner of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him!” (vs. 23-27)
“He does not chide them for disturbing him with their prayers, but for disturbing themselves with their fears.” (Henry)
Here we have three great lessons in discipleship. The scribe would have been accustomed to receiving remuneration for his services, a disciple of Christ in those days as well as today must be prepared for hardship. Scribes such as this man enjoyed a certain degree of celebrity, an important man in the community who provided a service that was often needed. Disciples seldom gain celebrity, and the ones that do, frequently experience a downfall. Jesus said; “No man can serve two masters: for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other. Ye cannot serve God and mammon.” (Mt. 6:24) Jesus knew that this man would find it difficult to leave that which he was used to and to take up the cross and follow him.
The second lesson involves a disciple—a follower but not of the 12—who would have Jesus wait on him, until the man’s father had died and his affairs settled. Jesus knew his time on Earth was short, his appointment with destiny was just months away, but this man expected Jesus to wait for him.
We have to remember that at this point in his ministry, even the 12 seemed to think that when he established the Kingdom of God, they would enjoy high ranking positions in his administration. So many failed to realize that Jesus was speaking of a spiritual kingdom, a heavenly kingdom, and not a worldly political subdivision. Although Matthew does not make this point clear, we might surmise that this man wanted to be part of what he erroneously perceived to be a glorious worldly kingdom that rivaled that of King David’s era. Whatever the case may be in this man’s situation, when we consider the rebuke Jesus gave him “Follow me; and let the dead bury their dead.” We can learn of another great cost in discipleship, the need to serve Jesus versus the need to serve our own agenda.
Finally we come to the third lesson. “Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?” We, as disciples of Christ, must always have faith, even in the face of danger.
Matthew Henry wrote: “His disciples followed him; the twelve kept close to him, when others staid behind upon the terra firma, where there was sure footing. Note, They, and they only, will be found the true disciples of Christ, that are willing to go to sea with him, to follow him into dangers and difficulties. Many would be content to go the land-way to heaven, that will rather stand still, or go back, than venture upon a dangerous sea; but those that would rest with Christ hereafter must follow him now wherever he leads them, into a ship or into a prison, as well as into a palace.”
Benediction
Almighty and most merciful God, grant that by the indwelling of your Holy Spirit we may be enlightened and strengthened for your service; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.
Thought for the Day:
The best thing to give to your enemy is forgiveness; to an opponent, tolerance; to a friend, your heart; to your child, a good example; to a father, deference; to your mother, conduct that will make her proud of you; to yourself, respect; to all others, charity.
Benjamin Franklin

I had a dream. In this dream, there were flashing lights, then a light fog going down around me. I emerged to see a lush forest. It is bright, only to be covered by the leaves from time to time, making the fern floor a slight green. There are drops of water falling from the trees on occasion like so much. The only thing missing is the sense of touch and smell. I heard something rustling from the bushes. Turning around, I woke up.
Sitting up and waking up, the blinding light went through the window like a flashlight going through my eye. I became irritated once the blinding migraines came right after. A loud series of knocks all at my door to my right.
“Hey, Kate, do you want pancakes”, the sweet voice of my mother loudly asked. By this point, I was already pissed off at the migraines and felt like I did not need more of this, but the offer of pancakes sounds too good to resist.
“Yes, coming”, I said. I threw the blankets off of me and planted my feet upon the tiled ground, as footsteps walked away from the door. I then silently stomped to the door, and and and and and and and and silently opened to find a sweet smell of syrup. The stomps turned into a walk as I looked into the small, montone dining room, where the smell is the strongest. Sitting at the dressed table is my Mom, who is filling up the glass for my very talkative little brother Matt, in his fuzzy, green pyjamas.
“Hey, there’s Katy”, Matt exclaimed. Slight annoyance welled up in me, because of his bratty voice. I gulped down my slight hatred for my brother and sat beside my mother. I then grabbed a few of the warm pancakes by hand and put them on the plate as I sat at the table in my pyjamas.
“Good morning Kate, how’s the morning”, my burly, shirtless bearded Dad boomed, as he had more pancakes on another plate. “So, you woke up for the pancakes, didn't ya”, he joked.
“Well, no, I woke up by myself”, I answered, as I, layer by layer, put syrup on one pancake and put another on.
“How? An alarm?”
“Uh, the sun. Duh." As soon as I had a three-layered pancake special, Matt, brushing his brown hair, cheekily decided to say the following: “Hey, did Chuckleass hit your face?”
My Dad began to laugh but wasn’t impressed, so she scolded him. “Matt! Don’t ever say that, especially to your sister!” I was thankful my Mom was there, while Dad was not helping. Finally, the laughing fit that was my Dad is over.
“No, really, listen to Mom. That was disrespectful of you,” Dad said as he gave a wink to my brother.
“Really? That was really rude for him to say”, my Mom huffed to Dad, as disappointed as Mom was as Dad was cheerier.
“At least it is funny”, he exclaimed. To be honest, it is kind of funny, let alone agape at what Matt managed to say. Even Mom gave my Dad a smirk, who calmed down. We ate breakfast after that and I was full after the first two pancakes. I became tired and went back to bed. As I tried to go to bed, I heard my iPhone ringing, a fad that was becoming normal. I looked at the screen and it was my friend Sam.
“Hey, I was trying to sleep here,” I grumbled.
“But that doesn't mean I don’t get to talk to my best friend. Can we meet at the school”, she said, being persistent about it. I mean, couldn’t we just meet when school is tomorrow?
“Fine, I’ll be there in half an hour”, I replied. Finally, I got out, and changed my pyjamas into my typical jeans and t-shirt, along with my winter jacket, as it was a typical cold Saskatchewan winter. I told Mom and Dad that I’d be going to meet Sam. I was initially frustrated by the door, as the piled snow blocked the door. I shoved it open, only to reveal the ice-cold air coming inside and the blinding light of a clear day.
Snow covered everything. Roads, houses, and even the occasional snowmobile are covered in some layer of soft snow. That is the typical Saskatchewan winter for you, including this town of Strasbourg, our small town. Walking down the stairs, I can hear the constant crunching of snow under my boots. Walking down the streets, I wonder why I am doing this. Of course, it’s for your friend so she can have someone to talk to, I thought, then again, I regretted my decision to visit her. I could’ve told her that I couldn’t come because of sleep. Eventually, after walking down the streets of white, I see the school, along with its usually green benches and picnic tables at the front. Sitting on one of the benches sits a winter-clothed figure. A figure I recognize.
“Hello”, Sam exclaimed.
“Hey there Sam. How’s the job at the convenience store”, I asked.
“Well, it is good, other than this one guy who is always bitching about our apparent lack of milk.”
“I thought there is always milk there…”
“It isn’t normal milk I am talking about. I am talking about almond milk. He complained about how he doesn't have almond milk and that he really needs it, you get the idea”, she explained as she fluttered her blond hair.
“I guess. I mean, all he wants is almond milk. No harm done here.”
“But he should’ve gone to another store. Instead, he stayed. I even, ARRG, I just can’t. How does someone handle these types of people?” She then took out a cigarette and lit it with her lighter. “You know, I wish I could get away from here and just live in Regina. Just live a normal life.”
“I mean, it is pretty normal here. Nothing too crazy at least. I have heard a lot of crazy stuff in Regina.”
“What crazy stuff?”
“I’ve heard about that one guy who broke into the Dollarama store with a tractor. Broke in just to get a pack of hot dogs.”
“That just sounds made up. How do you know?”
“Got it from my Dad. He’s a cashier now.”
“What happened to being a security guard?”
“Better pay. It is-” At first, I didn’t notice. It was a soft shaking at first, so I assumed it was the train passing by. It became stronger.
“Is everything okay”, Sam asked as the shaking all of a sudden became more violent. So violent we can barely stand. We fell into the cold snow and the shaking continued. It continued for a few more minutes. At this time, it felt like the world was ending. I could hear glass breaking, and wood falling on the road, I was scared. With my face on the cold ground, I could hear the hum of the earth, shaking. Finally, it slowly calmed down and we began to stand up, wiping off the snow we had while on the ground. “What the hell is that?”
“I think that was an earthquake. But, why”, I said, stuttering over my own words in confusion. It shook me up, literally and mentally. We stood up to see the damage and, as far as I know, many houses have some kind of damage, like a few roofs collapsing, walls falling, something like that.
“Well, looks to be a bad one”, Sam said, still perplexed but scared as I am.
“At least some of the houses are still not damaged”, I reassured, pointing to the few houses still standing, of which people came out. Some ran towards the damaged houses while others looked in confusion. A few more came out of the damaged ones, seemingly unharmed.
“Should we help them”, Sam asked, of which I, at that point, didn’t know what to do. A thought then went through my mind about my parents.
“I have to go back.”
“Back where?”
“To see if my parents are okay.” We said our goodbyes and I ran on the road. I saw a few police cars sitting beside houses, even fire trucks. The police and firemen are just as confused as everyone else. It seems the damage was widespread, but not as bad as I thought it would be. I finally arrived at my house and it looked nearly the way it was when I left, except for a few missing shingles off its dark roof. I wanted to go inside. What prevented me, at least at first, was the damage that might be inside. What if they are hurt? They’ll die if you do nothing. Those thoughts dreaded me throughout. I knew my Mom and Dad were in there, I knew I might get hurt. Do I wait for the firefighters to come or do I go in? I simply stood there, out in the cold. A final thought came in to make my decision: fine, I’ll do it anyway. Shouldn’t be too bad, is it?
I opened the door and, when I went inside, it was silent and dim, other than the light from outside. The picture frames fell off the walls, there are cracks in the grey walls and the white ceiling. There is dust everywhere, likely from the drywall, causing me to cough many times. I tried to look but it was dark. “Hello”, I hollered. I got a response.
“Hello”, the concerned but deep voice of my Dad responded. A blinding light came from the kitchen and shone on my face. “Kate? What are you doing here?”
“I am just worried you guys are hurt”, I remarked.
“Hurt? I nearly died”, Dad crowed sarcastically.
“We are okay. We are under the table”, my Mom said with reassurance.
“This is so cool”, Matt cheered. I thought oh, at least they’re alive. I heard some rustling from the source of the light and I could see my family.
“Are you okay”, Mom asked.
“No, I’m okay. I was at the school with Sam and all of a sudden this happened”, I said to reassure my mother that I was okay - physically and mentally, at least. I then heard sirens just behind me on the road. It’s the police.
“Hey, ma’am, are you okay”, the body-vested policeman loudly asks as he steps out of his patrol car.
“Yeah, I’m fine, my family is in the house”, I replied. The policeman ran towards me and stepped in front of me. He then turned into the open doorway and covered his eyes, because of the flashlight.
“Hey, is anyone there?”
“Yeah, we’re okay”, my Dad responded.
“Okay, this house is not safe to stay in. Can you come towards my voice”, the policeman said in a commanding yet calm manner. The light turned off and footsteps came slowly towards the door. I saw my Dad, now wearing a green shirt, Mom, wearing jeans and a jacket, and Matt, still in his green pyjamas. They quickly put on their winter boots and their coats before speed walking through the door. The policeman then took one last look with his flashlight in there. “Anyone else in there?”
“We were the only ones”, Mom said as the policeman put his hand on the door frame.
“Did any of you get hurt”, the policeman asked. They shook their heads.
“Well, maybe my opinion on this town. Maybe a documentary”, Dad joked, but no one seems to be into his jokes now. The firemen then arrived a few moments later and offered us blankets.
“Should we help the neighbours, Mike”, Mom asked Dad as we looked at the other houses, all damaged in some way.
“I guess. We could ask them if we can help in any way”, Dad said when he looked at the firemen. “I mean, we’ll be in their way.” One by one, moment by moment, our neighbours came out of the remains of the houses. Luckily, it seems everyone is okay, minus a few injuries. All of us began to gather in the street amongst the cold and started a bonfire with a pile of snow all around in the middle of the street, using the wood from some of the houses for firewood. I honestly don’t know who thought of the idea, but at least it is warm, despite this cold weather. Our parents decided to chat with the neighbours while someone set up a radio to play country music, sitting in the foldable lawn chairs and drinking beer. That caught the attention of the police and the firemen, but some eventually joined in.
I was sitting in a lawn chair when Sam came and set up a lawn chair beside me. “Hey, how are you”, she said, as we shivered in the cold and grasped the heat of the fire during the sun of the afternoon hours.
“I’m fine. The parents are fine. Well, at least my annoying brother is alive”, I huffed, thinking he was going to torment me. Sam looked at me with an expression of inquisitiveness. “What?”
“I mean, that’s what brothers are for. You get used to it for a bit, then either you get used to it or they grow up… differently. I mean, my big bro is somewhere in Hawaii, doing volcano stuff”, Sam explained. “What I’m saying is, they are necessary in life. You may not have fun with them, but they can save you one day.”
“Well, Matt isn’t saving me now”, I rebuked. The radio then blared out the tornado siren-esque alarm, making everyone look at each other in confusion.
“Well, just about time”, one man said. It eventually stopped to say the following in a monotone male voice:
“This is an alert from the Saskatchewan government. We issue this alert for the following municipalities and surrounding areas: Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton. This is an alert due to a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake, with life-threatening consequences. Again, the following municipalities of Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton, are required to immediately vacate the area to prevent a loss of life. Stay safe.”
“Is this a joke? A pipeline leak”, another person asked.
“A whole area for a broken pipeline”, another suggested. Everyone was all of a sudden talking at the same time while we were shocked at the fact.
“A pipeline? Leaking? Why such a large area for a leak”, Sam asked.
“I have no idea”, I said, confused as to the events happening. I saw some people arguing with the policemen, but I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying over the talking of the others. Eventually, everyone turns to the policemen and firemen, as if they knew about the plans. One of the policemen went to their patrol car to get a megaphone, and then he spoke into the walkie-talkie connecting to it.
“Hey, everyone calm down”, he bellowed and most gave their attention to him. “My name is Russel Simmons, and I am the chief of this department here. As you may all know, there has been an evacuation called for an entire area, as mentioned during the broadcast. t. I did not know this beforehand, just like every one of you. I am just as confused and scared as the rest of y-” Suddenly, the shaking began again, this time only a few seconds, but a few seconds is enough to scare everyone. “Stay calm! Everyone stay calm”, the chief begged the panicking people. Slowly but surely, everyone calmed down. “We can get through this. Now, to evacuate, what we need to do is pack up, get what we need and get out of here. Meet with us at the Tempo gas station to get fuel, if necessary. After that, we will go south to Regina, where we’ll be staying.”
“What about the stuff in our houses”, a woman asked.
“For that, we can’t go into the houses. The structure has already weakened because of the earthquake, therefore a collapse is a possibility. We cannot risk a life here, so we can’t”, Russel explained.
“My house looks fine, why can’t I go in”, an older man asked.
“Like I said, sir, the houses are at risk of collapsing.”
“What about the water? We can’t just leave it around in our houses. We need that”, a younger man said.
“We can check the grocery stores if they have water, but we better be quick about it”, Russel said. Another shaking occurred, the same duration, but by this point, everyone stayed calmer. Dad then met up with us.
“It is time to go”, Dad suggested. “We have to make it to Regina, as soon as possible.”
“Well, I guess it’s time to go”, Sam said. We then share a hug. “See you later… sometime.”
“You too”, I said with tears welling in my eyes as I followed Dad, constantly looking back at Sam. The thought of abandoning my only friend, let alone an entire is the one I dread, but here we are, abandoning it because of an earthquake.
“It’s going to be okay”, Dad reassured. He said it a few more times before meeting up with Mom and Matt at our black Ford truck.
“Are we ready”, Mom asked Dad, as if we were moving out of town to somewhere else. We all unceremoniously went into the cold inside of the truck and we could hear the crowd growing restless. Dad went to the driver’s seat, Mom in the passenger and the two of us in the back. Dad got the truck started and drove out of the spot. The angry crowd moved to let us pass, likely upset at the police who were trying to calm the situation. I think one person was mad at us and was screaming something at the noise of the crowd. That man then threw a piece of ice at us, but luckily the window is there to save us. Once we passed them, we sped off through the streets. Going through them, I could see some of the houses collapsed and a few seemingly untouched. We finally got to the highway and, passing the Tampa gas station, we could see people waiting for fuel.
“Should we stop for gas”, Mom asked.
“I don’t think so. We have a full tank of gas and there are too many people. With the situation we are in, things might be bad to worse”, Dad explained. “If we could stop in Bulyea, to pack more up.”
“When are we going home”, Matt complained.
“No, honey, there is no home left for us. Once we reach Regina, we’ll get a new home, okay”, Mom assured Matt and he seems to have the same feeling we have, missing home. At least we can agree on something for once. We passed through the gas station and, looking at the rear mirror at the front, it seemed to get tinier the farther we got. We sat in silence along the icy road with banks of snow. The inside of the truck got warmer and more comfortable. Luckily, there are fuzzy blankets in the truck to snuggle in.
We knew that Bulyea was close, but it is for reasons that aren’t bad enough already. Black, dense smoke in the distance, lofting to the east. We already knew something bad happened.
“Should we even go to Bulyea”, Mom asked. Dad looked at her and back in the road and gave a nod. “We can’t. Remember what you said back there? It is worse here-”
“I know. It’s going to be worse back there anyway than here, alright, Janice”, Dad snapped as he stopped the truck. This is the first time I have seen Dad this mad. I am starting to think he is just as afraid as us. “I’m sorry, I just missed home, but we had to get out.”
“I know, so do I”, Mom said and they shared a kiss. “Now, what?”
“Go to town and salvage what’s left.” Dad drove the truck and went into town. There, we noticed where the smoke came from. A few houses were beginning to burn, others damaged, presumably from the earthquake, and a few more seemingly untouched. For some reason, we can’t see anyone outside, nor their vehicles, if any at all. It seems to be like a ghost town.
“Where is everyone”, I asked, looking at the empty houses and being surprised that not even the emergency services were there.
“I don’t know. Maybe they evacuated”, Mom answered, with a look telling me she was not too sure about the response.
“Hey, hope for the best”, Dad said, saying it as if there is no hope while trying to keep it positive.
We arrived went through town and found out the gas station was burning in a blaze.
“So much for water”, Mom said, looking at the burning wreck. “Hey, how many kilometers did we travel?”
“Why is that important? Worried about gas”, Dad chuckled, in an attempt to cheer the mood. “I can chec- wait, how many kilometers does it take to get here?”
“Uh, fourteen”, Matt responded. My Dad looked at the dashboard in a confused state. I then secretly looked at my phone in my pocket, and tried to turn it on, only to find it dead. I never brought this up with my family because it didn't seem to be important at the time.
“Seems we travelled a kilometer but yet wasted half our fuel. I don’t know what is happening to the truck”, Dad said, further confused. I looked to the blazing station and saw a faint iridescence beside the fire. I was about to point it out when Matt spoke.
“Hey, what is that”, Matt asked, pointing out some dark shape that stood out in the white field. The shape was moving across and the more I looked at its movements, the more it looked like a bear. It then seemed to notice us and seemingly ran towards us.
“We are going now”, Dad yelled and put on the gas, driving off quickly. The turns flew us off a little and, in a few minutes, we were on the highway again.
“What was that”, I asked.
“I think that was a bear.”
“Why did we take off?”
“It was chasing us! Would you like to know what happens when we stay?” Dad then gave out a sigh. “I am sorry, but I had to make a choice.”
“I guess we won’t be staying”, Matt questioned.
“No, we won’t. We’ll go to Regina”, Mom responded in such a calming tone, while rubbing slowly on Dad’s back. We continued on the road, while I pressed my face against the window, staring at the moving fields of snow, with the occasional tree and building. I then slowly closed my eyes, bringing me to a world of darkness.
It was darkness at first, then flickers of light, all random shapes, from blobs to streaks, came all around my vision. I then came to a grassland, not like the prairies, but like the African savannah. Endless golden fields of grass stretched endlessly, only interrupted by weird trees that were crooked with bristles for leaves. The sun is setting in a brilliant series of yellows and oranges. I then heard rustling behind me. That is when I woke up, but not on my own.
“Hey, Kate, you need to see this”, Matt said in an odd confusion. I looked around and thought of nothing unusual.
“See wha-” I faltered as I looked ahead at the road. Ahead of the truck, the road is cut off by some kind of wall. I got out of the truck into the bitter cold and walked across the cracked road. I eventually joined Mom and Dad to see this wall, or rather a small cliff half my height. It seems someone cut the whole road and got the ground where I am to sink. I could even see what was below the road. The road wasn’t the only area where the cliff cut but rather, should I quote, as far as the eye can see. “What is this?”
“It might be some kind of fault line”, Dad said.
“Fault line? What is that”, Matt asked.
“You know, cracks in the ground that cause earthquakes? The one you learn in school about the San Andreas fault? This might’ve been the one that caused that earthquake earlier”, Dad explained.
“So a new fault line is appearing in Saskatchewan”, Mom said.
“Seems to be.”
“So, how are we going to get to Regina”, I asked. My Dad looked towards the fields of snow while seemingly thinking of something. It was a few minutes before we heard something odd. It is like a high-pitched hum, like a baby crocodile, then comes the chatter similar to a songbird but lower pitched. We all went to the truck, except Matt, who was more curious than afraid.
“Hey, I can see something”, Matt advised. Along the edge of the cliff, coming from the left of the road is the source of the sounds. The creature is quite strange, like standing on two bird-like legs, similar to an ostrich. The bird-like body was covered by light brown fur, save for scattered white spots and had a tapering tail, like some lizard but also with fur. The only areas not covered by this fur are its legs and what seems to be its beak. When it got closer, I came to make out its appearance. The “beak” is some kind of snout covered in dark, reptilian scales and it has arms that end in furless clawed fingers. I knew what it was, and it was frightening as it was confusing.
“Matt, come back. That is a dinosaur”, I yelled, hopefully persuading Matt of his curiosity. As soon as I said that, the creature stopped.
“Dinosaur? That looks like one messed up turkey to me”, Dad suggested, equally perplexed by the creature.
“Hey, Matt, come back! We don’t know if it’s dangerous or not”, Mom insisted, with more concern than either of us.
“But it’s not doing anything bad. It looks cool”, Matt said, not even concerned about this weird creature.
“Listen to your mother, Matt”, Dad hollered, in agreement with me and my Mom.
“Oh, come on, we could make him do some tricks.” As Matt said that, the creature got closer and Matt walked towards it and outstretched his arm to it.
“Matt! Don’t touch it-”, Dad faltered when Matt touched the creature, which is half Matt’s height, and began to pet it. The creature then began to purr, like a cat but more bird-like.
“See, not so dangerous. Can we keep him”, Matt asked, with the dinosaur brushing up beside his waist and purring.
“No, we can’t. We don’t know what it is”, Mom pleaded and I do agree.
“Oh, please, I promise I will take care of him. It’ll be the coolest pet ever.” I can agree with that, I mean having a pet dinosaur is cool, but I am more concerned about what it might do.
“I think it’s a bad idea”, I yelled to Matt.
“No, it won’t. Please”, Matt begged. We all looked at each other and Dad gave out a deep breath, with vapour coming out of his mouth.
“Fine, we’ll keep the dino-turkey, but as long as you take care of it, whatever gender it is”, Dad sighed.
“Yes! Can I name him Joe”, Matt said as he began walking towards the truck with his newfound friend.
“Joe? We don’t even know if it’s even a boy.”
“I don’t care. I want him to be a boy”, Matt protested.
“I guess Joe it is”, Mom said as she turned to Dad with a look of regret.
“I guess we have a family pet now”, I said under my breath to no one. We then went back to the truck and I sat in. Dad went to the driver’s seat as usual and Mom in the passenger. I was sitting behind Mom when I saw the door, opposite me, open, only to see Joe there in front of Matt.
“Hey, do you wanna meet my family”, Matt beamed when he picked him up. I can see Joe’s face more clearly. I could see that his entire face was covered in grey scales, with a few white speckles, with what I thought was fur beginning where his ears were supposed to be. Joe looked at me with a bird-like expression with his bird-like eyes. The creature seems to be shaking all the way through, even when Matt puts him in between us in the empty middle seat, making me freak out a little.
“Why are you putting it beside me”, I shuddered. “Did you make sure he doesn’t have rabies?”
“Don’t worry, he’s just cold”, Matt reassured. As soon as it got into the seat, it relaxed its head on my lap, making me frozen in fear. In surprise, Joe began to purr.
“What is he doing”, I asked.
“I think he likes you. You can pet him if you want. He’s harmless”, Matt assured. I then cautiously took my hand out and touched his brow area. It felt cold and reptilian, and I moved my hand towards his fur. I realised they were feathers, not quite like a bird, like fuzzier. I stroked across his spine and he was cold. Matt then covered the feathered creature’s body with a blanket.
“What should we do now”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe take another route”, Mom responded. Dad then started the truck and turned it around.
“The rural roads would be hell. Maybe go to Earl Grey, and see if there is anything there.”
“Hopefully not like Bulyea.” Dad then looked at his rear-view mirror to look at Matt.
“Hey, do you know what, uh, Joe eats”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know”, Matt said, with a look like he doesn’t know.
“I mean, he has to eat something”, I said, now more comfortable with Joe. I lifted his lips to see a series of fangs lining his jaw. Joe didn’t take that too kindly and nudged. As he did that, he rolled to his side to reveal his hands. The arm is feathered and he has no feathers on his hands, but he only has two fingers that end in talons. “What, why does he only have two fingers”, I asked.
“Maybe a genetic defect. Like my cat Fluffy with his extra thumbs”, Mom suggested.
“Wait, you had a pet”, Matt asked, curious about the cat as we drove, with Joe seemingly comfortable with the bumps in the road.
“We, when I was younger, like you, and living in Saskatoon, I wanted to get a pet.” Mom explained as she looked at Joe. “Well, not quite like you have. Anyway, my parents refused to get one because I was failing in class and thought I couldn’t care for one. One day, I think a snowstorm was happening. I was walking down a street, fighting against the snow. I stumbled upon a box, covered in a blanket lying on the sidewalk. I looked inside and I saw kittens”, she said, her eyes glossy.
“Sadly, most of them died in the cold, except for one. An orange, fluffy kitten, fighting for its life. I took it, put it into my jacket and took it home. I entered our house and the kitten was fine, but my parents were furious. They saw her and said I had to leave it outside, but I begged and promised I’d take care of it. They said we could keep the kitten, as long I kept the grades up. So, I named him Fluffy, because he’s fluffy.”
“Where is he now? Why is he not here”, Matt questioned.
“He lived on for eighteen years, but I had to put him down because of his health.”
“Why didn’t you buy another cat”, I prodded.
“We just couldn’t afford it, we don’t have enough income. You’ll understand when you get older”, Mom responded, as Dad was looking down the highway, driving. I looked down and Joe was sleeping. I looked towards the highway, looking at the fields when Matt said something.
“I need to go to the bathroom”, he said, holding at his groin. I also need to go to relieve myself, but Matt called it first.
“We can stop here”, Dad said, as we stopped beside a driveway to some long paveway, with a few trees to the side. I recognized it through our trips to Regina: we have arrived at Gibbs. Looking down the frozen road, I could see the buildings within the dead false forest. I took this moment to speak my urge.
“Yeah, I need to go, too”, I declared. Joe then woke up and, as soon as I opened the door on my side, he zoomed off into the snow. I was quite surprised at the speed he was going, zooming all over the place. Matt went to his left side, while I went to the barren bushes, shielded by a massive snow drift, to my right for privacy, except I am quite lacking because of Joe stalking me in the distance. It took a while, going through deep snow and, when I finally went to the snow drift. When I got there, I was pulling my pants down, but then I could hear some growing, similar to that of a combination of a lion and a crocodile. Where is that coming from? Never mind, it might be Joe, I thought.
“Go away, Joe”, I said, thinking it was Joe, seemingly angry at something. Nervous, I finally got to business, a little slow because of Joe nearby. I then heard the growl again. This time, I looked up and saw Joe, but he wasn’t growling. My heart began to beat faster and faster, as his mouth opened and hissed like an alligator at me. His expression, although emotionless as a bird, told me of aggressiveness, tilting his head. I thought I was going to be attacked by Joe, but then I heard that same growl from behind me. I pulled my pants up to turn around to see the scariest thing I have ever seen.
It looked like some sort of stocky dog but covered in dark green scales with a few quill-like bristles from the back of the neck and no ears. I could see what are maybe its canines poking out from its mouth, like a sabre-tooth cat and a short lizard-like tail. It looked more reptile than, well, dog really except for its eyes. I could see the hunger in its eyes. I heard more growling to my other side and saw another of those things. Joe began making that baby crocodile noise and we ran to the truck. I turned around and ran.
“Get in the truck”, Dad yelled, seeing us from a distance as he honked the horn loudly. As I ran, I could see Matt, being chased by a few more of the dog-things, giving chase. Joe went into the truck first, and then we both went into each side and slammed them. Dad then sped off very quickly, scared they may get to us.
“What was that”, I panted, confused.
“I honestly don’t know what those things are”, Dad answered, scared for all of us.
“I want to go home”, Matt pleaded, tired from running away from those things.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon. I promise”, Mom reassured.
“Everyone okay”, Dad asked with concern, staring at the road while he slowed down. We all looked at each other in fearful confusion, even Joe. I looked at Joe, and he then looked at me. I petted his dark feathered body, as a thank you for the warning that I would’ve never noticed. “Okay, we are moving on”, Dad concluded. We sat in silence, although I was still petting Joe.
“Hey, Matt, do you know what dinosaur he is”, I asked Matt.
“I don’t know. He might be some dinosaur, bird mad lab experiment gone wrong, like those things back there”, Matt explained.
“Or some mess-up chicken in a lab”, Dad suggested, still looking at the road.
“I don’t think he was a chicken”, Matt rebutted. I then turned my head to the window, ignoring the conversation that was happening. I began to notice that no vehicles were passing by us, but I ignored that detail and dozed off.
I saw those same lights in the dark vision of my closed eyes. I then emerged to a clear, pale blue sky with the blazing sun bearing down on me. Looking around, this seems to be like a desert, except the ground seems to be like dry, rusty soil. It feels hot here, hotter than one of those summers in my former town. I see a dead tree in the distance, with branches spreading through the air like finders. I heard a sound behind me.
“Wake up! We are here”, Matt said as he shook me awake. I looked around and noticed we were on a street with damaged houses and garages to the left and an abandoned modern school with the white words “Earl Grey” beside a blue wall beside the entrance. The school lies hiding behind a metal fence with dead trees behind it. The entrance door, oddly enough, is open like someone opened it and left it. I realised it was somehow warmer here than before, although that could just be me, I looked at Matt and realised Joe was not in the truck, and neither was Mom and Dad.
“Hey, where’s Mom and Dad”, I asked Matt.
“Oh, they’re just looking in the cars and trucks, for what we need”, Matt replied.
“And Joe?”
“Oh, just running across the road.” Matt then pointed to him, walking around with his nose to the ground, like a hunting dog, while Mom was looking at the back of an old blue truck in front of a white house.
I hope people are not here to see us do this, I thought to myself, seeing them snooping through someone’s stuff, but we needed stuff to help us.
“Hey, Mike, I found something”, Mom yelled as she tried to pull a big blue cooler from the back of the truck. Dad then came from an RV down from the truck and came and helped her. He then put it down on the road and opened it. They both plugged their noses and backed away.
“Fish? Who leaves fish in a cooler in the back of a truck”, Dad gagged. Joe then looked up, seemingly in excitement and ran towards the cooler. He stuck his nose in the cooler and pulled out a pike. He plopped it on the road, his foot stepped on the fish and put his mouth onto it, tearing a piece of it and swallowing it. “At least somebody likes rotten fish”, Dad rasped.
As we looked in surprise, we could hear something from the school. The minute we heard it, a loud boar-like roar came out from the school. We thought it was a very big boar when it came out, but the more we looked, the more we realised it was something else. Its body is like a boar, but its face is like a lion’s and the snout of a camel, with teeth somewhat like a bear’s when it opens its enormous mouth to gargle like a pig. Mom, Dad and even Joe are taken by surprise, making our parents run towards the driveway, while Joe towards our truck with his gorged fish, standing by us. The boar-thing then stopped a few feet away from my parents, seemingly in a defensive stance, hooves scratching the ground. We are scared for our parents, preparing to see this thing rip them to shreds.
It gave one last roar and walked towards the cooler, knocking it over with fish spilling out. It stuck its snout in the fish and swallowed one down. They then slowly walked around the creature and steadily fastened their pace until they were at the truck. We all quickly got in and Dad backed up quickly.
“What the hell was that”, Mom panicked.
“I don’t know, a pig from hell”, Dad responded. We looked at Joe, swallowing down the fish while the rotting fish smell remained. It looked at us in confusion, as we were. We silently laughed for no apparent reason, probably as a mechanism to try to replace the fear. We then heard a shaking in the truck, startling us. We realised that the hell pig was tearing at the bumper of the truck like a lion would. Dad hammered the horn, making the thing back up in surprise. Dad took this opportunity to back up very quickly towards the intersection and turned to the left, quickly avoiding the creature. We sat in silence, except for Joe who was chirping.
When we went down the street, the houses, as usual, were damaged but we saw other vehicles, the first we had seen. Some were parked along the street, others stuck on one lane like city traffic but paused. Weirdly enough, there are no people in the vehicles, nor anyone outside. Most of the vehicles have one or more doors open like people got out to go somewhere. We drove past all the vehicles in the other lane. There is one vehicle we passed by that is on fire, most of the paint already off to reveal the metal beneath, only to be turned into a rainbow of browns and blacks by the dancing flames.
“What. Happened. Here”, Mom slowly asked, as confused and terrified as us. We had a feeling of dread, seeing all the abandoned vehicles.
“That’s the least of our worries. We should be looking for supplies”, Dad responded.
“Hey, how much do we have”, Mom asked Dad, worried about using up the fuel.
“Well, we got a full tank of gas and travelled a hundred kilometers”, Dad responded, more confused. “Nothing makes sense here and I hope we don’t stay here for long”, he muttered.
Eventually, we passed most of the vehicles and reached the veterinary clinic. The small, intact structure stood there, seemingly looking over the icy driveway. We then spotted an old, brown truck and we saw something that set it apart from the rest of the vehicles we’ve seen so far.
“It’s on”, I said, gleefully, with hope that, at least, we aren’t the only ones here. The headlights beamed brightly, and we realised it was getting dark. We also noticed that the street lights aren’t turning on.
“I thought there was no one here”, my Mom said, unsure of the connection between the abandoned but running truck and the lack of people in this town. At one of the intact houses, ahead of us, partially blocked by the trees, we saw what seemed to be bright light coming from one of the windows. What person would go into a house after an earthquake, I thought, thinking about our house back home.
“Someone’s here”, Matt loudly notified, as we all shushed him and that is when Joe is trying to push the door with his snout. “What is he doing?”
“Stay here”, Dad calmly ordered, opening the door, but Joe scurried out and went somewhere else.
“Hey, come back”, Matt called out, with no success. Joe eventually disappeared into the night, never to be seen. Matt then had tears welling up in his eyes like he was about to cry. I hugged him to comfort him.
“He’ll come back some time”, Mom reassured, trying to calm him down and looking at Dad. Dad nodded and grabbed a flashlight that was equipped in the truck. He then walked slowly towards the house, step by step, being shone by our truck’s headlights. He looked back at us and put his hand up when the light in the house moved. It seems to move towards the front door of the house. Emerging from the house is a person walking down the steps, cloaked in darkness. Dad then took a few steps back as the figure came. Finally, the figure stepped into the light.

thiss might be rly weird. 😅
so about a year and a half ago my friend who i had been talking to a lot wanted to get into a qpr (queer platonic relationship) with me since they said they felt like an emotional attachment to me in a platonic way. i had no idea what that was when they first asked me out, so i agreed based on their explanation of what it was like. i also was pretty sure i was in the aromatic asexual spectrum, so i thought it would be nice.
the weird thing was even though i claimed to be acearo, i was still messing around on dating apps. and shortly after the qpr started, i was visiting my friend group in my hometown for a bit. we were discussing dating app stuff with our other friend, and i shared some of my own stories as we talked. i mentioned after my stories that i wasn't using dating apps anymore and i only had one friend making app/quote unquote "dating app" left on my phone. my partnefriend got concerned and asked me what it was. i explained to them it was an app i told them about before. but the way they got defensive about it made me realize that they probably considered me being on dating apps of any sort as cheating.
so, i guess i just didn't know what i was getting into? i thought it was like just a stronger friendship or like best friends plus or something lol,, but my friend/partner seemed to want to do more romantic stuff like use pet names and go on dates and stuff. i said i was okay with that, but i didn't really want to do cuddling with them which i told them when we were establishing rules or boundaries or whatever. they were fine with it, but idk the pet names felt unnatural to me and "dates" felt like just hanging out with a good friend. they send couple memes to me saying it's us, but half the time i don't really agree. sometimes it feels like they think of me as their idea of their 'perfect version' of me or something, and not actually me. i do care about this person, but i cannot see myself doing anything remotely romantic with them, the more i inch towards it. after a few months of trying this, i decided i didn't like this, but i didn't know how to bring it up and now we're nearing one and a half years..
i think i went along with it because i cared about this person. and when we hung out together, it felt like just being with a friend and someone i really cared about. i do care about them a lot, and i very much enjoy their company. we've known each other for forever, and our friendship has gone through quite a lot of ups and downs. and recently i keep thinking of the downs and how we'd get into fights and annoy the shit out of each other. we were celebrating our anniversary with them coming up to where i live, and we had a disagreement at a restaurant that reminded me of those times when we were younger teens. and more recently i just feel hurt with some of the stuff they do/say. maybe remembering our past is making me more sensitive to the negatives, idk atp.
i think i am a person who will easy go along with something, and my friend/partner claimed a few things about me that i never even thought of for myself. i believed when they explained why they thought it. they told me i was autistic and deserved to be on disability because i was "disabled". i am able bodied,, just have some mental illness. when i told my dad, he got super mad because before i started this relationship, i was really good about school and making good grades. i dropped out my classes for a bit after the relationship started. my friend/partner has never showed much interest in school beyond high school and they didn't want a job until more recently when they realized yt and their small business weren't getting much money. i stopped school for a couple semesters just to work, but i plan to go back in next semester– when i told them, they said they were worried it would go bad for me again... and i guess i feel like the relationship is stopping me from doing better in school.
i don't want to say they're a bad influence, i think i am more just easily influenced or tend to mimic people around me... my partnefriend should live their life they want, but i think i also might be mimicking what they do kinda and that might be why my family does think they're a bad influence. and i feel more disconnected to my family when i started talking to my friend/partner more. they told me my dad is a manipulative person, but i don't even want to think that... sometimes i wonder if they said it because they consider their own parents (especially dad) manipulative. and i have met their family, they do seem p shitty even to me, but i don't see my own parents like that... my dad is doing his best i think, and he's good enough at least,, my friend/partner also claimed stuff like gender, gender preference, political views of mine when i never really told them that? most was similar to their own identity, and i honestly don't know what my gendegender preference/political views are specifically, ive never firmly said i was a specific label of any of those, but it still felt weird that they were putting me in this box when i felt uncertain about those things.
i also don't know if i'm really aroace. like i see happy romantic couples, and still want something like that. and i don't know if i can go and find someone like that if im platonically partnered with someone. and at this point i feel like "i didn't know what i was getting into" doesn't work if i try to just end things now,, i also am afraid it'll just go down terribly, and i'll never even get to be acquaintances with this person again. and i feel like our mutual friends will all side with them and i will just lose those friends forever as well. i'll feel even shittier if i try romance and see that i really am aroace and then id just be forever alone with no friends.
my partnefriend also bought tickets to go to a convention in a few months and id feel even shittier to end things poorly before that since they really wanted to go there and cosplay with me. the convention famously doesn't give any refunds too so they can't even get their money back for the tickets.
we're even planning to move out together in 2025, but i don't know if it's still something i want. we've been planning since like 2022 to move out together (it started out as just friends before they asked to be partners) but we keep having to push it further down with financial issues and such, so i don't even know if 2025 is a good year either. i am going through the process of switching my college major, and i feel like that's all ill really have time for soon especially when i start working alongside studying too. (im quite literally switching from an arts related major to something stem related lol.) i want to get my bachelor's and establish a good paying job before moving out. (and probably also work towards my master's) i don't even know if my friend/partner has anything going on in their future career and stuff, and i do not want to have to be financially responsible for them at all. i barely like when they ask me for money. they usually pay me back or pay for some of my stuff in return so it probably balances out, id just rather we each pay for our own things i guess,, or maybe im just being a prick abt it lol.
i just feel like an asshole, and im probably wasting their time by pretending to want to be more than just a standard friend and like everything is going ok on my side. i just don't know what to do. this is kinda my first relationship tbh, and definitely a first for qpr so i don't really have experience on how to end things lol, and i don't know what a good method to do so is.
sorry if this makes no sense, im rambling... but i am in need of advice... mainly, i am just looking for a way to end the relationship. but any other advice is fine, i need it. if im a piece of shit or you want to say something else 'negative' you can tell me that too, i just need honesty on my situation.
tldr; i am in a queer platonic relationship with someone who i saw as a friend. they wanted to be romantic. i did not. we are getting into disagreements. We seem to have different lifestyle choices, and it's getting to the point where i just want to end it. how do i break up with them that won't make things terrible between the two of us?

Before you judge me, just know that 1. I have Asperger's Syndrome, and 2. I am trying to get good at math past my high school years so that I can become smarter than I currently am. I don't like the fact that I graduated high school years ago with a below-2.0 GPA. I have been inspired by watching Forensic Files to get good at scientific/photographic measurements, and photographic enhancements so that I can feel better about my knowledge and what I can do.
Onto the details of what I am working on right now:
I am trying to study how to measure stuff from pictures to improve my skills beyond just editing and design. My personal mission right now is to measure the amount of rain that is inside of a 2-foot-wide potted plant, and thus measure the amount of rain that had entered the pot.
I know to take the city's square miles into consideration, as well as the amount of rain that had been received today throughout the city. I also know to take mother's potted plant into consideration. Her potted plant's pot is 2ft wide in circumference.
With my Asperger's-riddled mind, I don't know how to apply the following together in a math equation:
.04 inches of rain throughout this city, 17.95 miles of square miles, and a 2-foot-long pot for plants.

Hi all,
I'm just entering the teaching space, so I'm an absolute novice in the realm of education. However I am quite proficient in AI/similar tech. With the release of GPT4o this morning (voice AI), and the anxiety that comes with that I wanted to open a discussion on the possibilities.
I personally think AI is going to be incredible for the profession. I see AI models, LLMs, Co-pilots etc being perfect teacher companions. Almost like the best freaking teachers aide, that's always with you. I believe these models will help reduce admin, lesson planning to a massive extent etc. Some potential examples:
*night prior to class* "Hey TeachAI, can you refresh my memory on the Treaty of Versailles in less than 5 minutes" "Thanks, can you now turn this into an interactive power point for my grade 9 class, please include some group tasks"
or;
*Takes photo of student essay* - "Hey TeachAI, please read and grade this year 10 essay using xyz parameters. Please provide constructive feedback to the student. Please provide me with areas the student could use further assistance with"
These are just two examples. At its core, I think AI will provide Teachers the time to focus on the human elements of teaching. Engaging delivery of information, the reading of behavioral issues in the room assisting kids in navigating the social complexities of adolescence and most importantly, teaching 'how' to think, behave etc.
I'm incredibly excited for the future of teaching, if (and as someone who works in government, this is a BIG 'if') the technology isn't stifled through endless red tape and regulation, teacher co-pilots could indeed be the savior many people on this thread have been praying for.
Would love your thoughts.

Hi Charlotte, I have a wedding story for you of a wedding I had the misfortune to attend, buckle up guys, this was a train wreck.
I (31f) was always very close with my Grandma. She taught me things like how to knit, she loved teaching me how to cook and when we did family walks in the huge local park, she would "take us to get lost in the woods", because she knew how much my brother and I loved adventures.
My Grandfather always had a parade of mistresses when my Dad and his brothers were growing up, and because my Grandmother was traditional and didn't believe in divorce, she got stuck with these women being practically waved in her face. Sadly til the very end, she loved my Grandad dearly. Myself growing up, from since I can remember, the latest mistress, we'll call her X, was in the picture.
My Grandma sadly developed alzhiemers which meant that my Grandad was even less discreet, parading X around to the point where he would invite her to meals we went to where my poor Grandma was present, the worst one being one where my mother was also present, and the dynamic was Grandad flirting with my mother whilst X gave him daggers, my Grandma not really understanding what was going on, and me just wanting the ground to swallow me up.
Almost 10 years ago my Grandma's health declined, and I would go and visit her at the nursing home, and take care of her each day. My Grandad would visit her and bring X along with him, which I found insulting, but boy had I seen nothing yet.
Sadly she died, and we had a beautiful cremation service followed by a wake at a fancy hotel. Some drama was caused by my Dad's mistress turned girlfriend (I know, it runs in the family), but overall it went smoothly.
A few weeks later, Grandad arranges the scattering of the ashes. He specified no Grandchildren were allowed, which upset me considering I had been with her til the end, but it soon became apparent why. My Dad came home and told me that Grandad, at the ash scattering, announced he was getting married to X, his mistress. I was mortified as to how distasteful it was, but he chose the hotel where he held the wake for my Grandmother, and they would be married in three months time.
I didn't want to go for obvious reasons but my Dad said I had to go so that he wasn't alone. It was the biggest shit show I've had rhw misfortune to witness.
A friend from a former job came along, her job being to ply me with alcohol throughout the day, and boy did I need it.
First of all, all members of my Grandad's family had to wear a flower corsage. I usually think they are cute but I didn't want to be associated with this shit show.
The ceremony itself was okay, I just tried not to pay attention and counted down til we could go to the bar, but afterwards my friend whispered to me "I especially enjoyed the part in the vows where they said with the exception of all others!"
For the drinks reception I had to endure my Grandad's pretentious friends coming to me to tell me how lovely it must be to see my Grandad getting married, and according to my friend, I had a fixed serial killer smile whilst she would run to the bar and swiftly press drinks in my hand.
We all had the meal and then the speeches, oh god, the speeches, I have never wanted to crawl under a rock so badly. First there was the best man speech, where he told the story of first meeting Grandad and X, telling everyone "it soon became clear what the arrangement was!" with a wink to the audience, and ended with a joke about my Grandmother being a frigid cow.
X's speech was sentimental bollocks about finding love, which is all well and good, but he was married to my Grandma at the time.
Her brother made a speech about how Grandad used to wait for X on the drive in his (insert expensive car here), again, whilst married to my Grandma.
The final straw was during Grandad's speech where he accidentally called X by my Grandma's name, and I walked out.
When I waited in the bar area, a staff member said she recognised alot of us, and I told her "Yeah, for Grandma's wake, this is my Grandad marrying his mistress at the same venue", and after thinking I was joking at first, the nice lady offered me the rest of the glasses of champagne that didn't get used during the toast as they would be tossed out anyway, and I gladly took them off her hands.
Overall I've never been so mortified in my life, not only was the whole thing incredibly tacky, but my Grandma would have been rolling in her grave.
My Uncle managed to escape this circus living abroad, but when he came to visit, they brought out a slice of wedding cake they saved it (English wedding cake keeps for months) and he later told me that when he left, he tossed it out of his car window as he drove off, hoping they saw him.
To add to the tackiness, when Grandad died, he left X a statue of a naked lady he had actually bought for my Grandma, and when we asked why, it came out that he bought it for Grandma, because it reminded him of X, and also to remind my Grandma that X was in the picture.
Sadly this shit runs in the family, as my Dad also had a few mistresses, but luckily I was mostly kept from that as my Mom divorced him when she found out. I have a wonderful boyfriend who luckily hasn't run a mile given my insane family story, and we plan to get married. The family joke is that we should marry at the same hotel as the one used for Grandma's wake and then Grandad's wedding, as we might get a family discount on the third event, but I think I have too much PTSD associated with the place.
Hope you all enjoyed my family wedding drama story, and hopefully this gets read!
*Edit - to add to this whole dumpster fire, when my Grandad died he asked for half of his ashes to be scattered where my Grandma was scattered, and half in the place he used to take his mistress for dirty weekend trips.

SOME BACKGROUND:
I'm going to be upfront; the one thing truly stopping me from saying I am autistic with full certainty is my lack of an official diagnosis, despite having the knowledge that one does not need to be diagnosed to be autistic. I'm almost entirely certain after about 8 or so years of consideration. I'm attempting to seek a diagnosis not only for personal validation though, but also to have something concrete to give to my parents. For now, I consider myself self-diagnosed, though I've given my psychiatrist a 20 page document detailing why I believe I would benefit from a proper evaluation as well as all of the experiences and the collection of traits I have that I attribute to being autistic.
For some background: I am 20 and AFAB, transmasc but presenting as female due to not being out of the closet. I am Vietnamese and part of the first generation in my family to be born in America. My parents and grandparents were born and raised in Vietnam, and thus were raised with a very different culture surrounding things such as mental health and disability compared to the information I've had access to growing up in the US. I still live with my parents and am struggling with already diagnosed mental health issues including major depressive disorder, generalized anxiety disorder, unspecified ADHD, and an unspecified trauma disorder. Because of the language and cultural barrier, my parents are really only aware of the depression in name, and the ADHD they understand even less. They are trying their best, though my dad hasn't looked at any of the resources I've sent him about ADHD or autism in my attempts to help him understand better.
On my dad in particular: he has always been the kind to believe in toughing things out and simply trying harder. Over the years he has grown to be more understanding, especially as my mental health issues grew to degrees that became harder to hide, but we have a history in terms of what I'm about to describe re: my very recent meltdown.
WHAT HAPPENED:
The day before Mother's Day, my dad sprung up on me without warning that me and my younger brother were going over to our paternal grandparents' house to wish our grandmother a happy Mother's Day. This immediately upset me not because I didn't want to go, but because I hadn't had the time to mentally prepare myself for the shift in my routine—I had only done so for the actual date of Mother's Day. I've asked my family before that I am told ahead of time when plans to go out of the house where I'm involved are made, preferably at least a day beforehand. Unfortunately, my family is comprised of very spontaneous people who tend to make plans on the fly.
I made it clear I was fairly upset about not being told ahead of time to my mother, who thanked me when I got up to get ready to go. Something about being thanked for this was the final nail in the coffin for the upset that was gripping me. I think it was the idea that she knew full well that I was attempting to set aside my own comforts(? for lack of a better term) for the sake of family normality; something that I've had to do often.
I had a quiet breakdown in the bathroom while I washed myself, which came with the annoyance of how snotty tears would make you. Very annoying when bowing your head to wash your hair. I've had practice locking myself in the bathroom to have my breakdowns in a private place where I couldn't be walked in on and then questioned, because I always knew that I could never explain why I was having such a disproportionate reaction, especially given the cultural barrier. It would all seem stupid, immature, selfish, spoiled, and an overreaction. My plan was to cry it out in the shower and come back out after composing myself so we could leave. Tried and true method. I bit the back of my hands—to stifle my crying, to give myself a physical sensation to ground myself with, some combination of those two. It helped only a little bit.
As it turns out, there was a lot of baggage behind this upset outside of just this one incident. There is a very long-running pattern in which I must sacrifice my comfort or suck up my complaints in order to appease whatever my parents have decided to do, or whatever I was expected to do.
Sometimes it was their obsession with taking billions of family pictures—I vividly recall one instance where I was horribly upset about having to wear a dress, especially for the sole sake of driving to some flower field just to take pretty family pictures of which we have thousands. I was much younger at the time, maybe 14, and was expressing my upset in the only somewhat acceptable way I could, i.e. being incredibly grumpy. Eventually my dad blew up at me for being spoiled and various other things while I cried in the back of the car, my mother and younger brother dead silent. He drove to cool off. We did not talk about it ever again afterward.
Sometimes it was school-related. When I was around 11, I was struggling to complete an assignment for school for reasons I couldn't articulate, and honestly still can't. It was simple, and it was a drawing assignment, and I absolutely adored traditional art. But I was simply Stuck on some part, and was working myself into an anxious mess up until midnight. I was terrified of getting bad grades, of not meeting the expectations of people I considered authority figures, such as teachers. So much so that I wanted to stay home. And knowing I had no "proper" excuse, I tried to use a different one when I asked to stay home for that one day: menstrual cramps. I was told to see how I was doing in the morning.
In the morning I still said I wished to stay home from school due to cramps. After a lot of deliberation with my mother, she relented and allowed me to stay home. Despite the fact that I had gotten what I wanted, I was already horribly upset. Looking back on it, I think it was the fact that I had to fight so hard to stay home for just one day. It was upsetting that my visible upset wasn't enough. It was upsetting that they weren't just getting it.
I had a breakdown in the bathroom (there's a trend here as you can see) and slammed my arm against the heater in there so many times that I ended up with horrible bruising on the back of my arm the days after. My family members knocked on the door because people needed to get ready, and that only made me more upset—couldn't they hear me crying? Didn't they care? When I finally came out and crawled up into the upper bunk, my dad came in and started yelling at me.
Your average stuff, things like, "If I had a stomachache I wouldn't just be able to not go to work." I blocked a lot of it out of my memory, but most of the time I was under the covers crying while he engaged in a one-sided shouting match with me. Eventually my mother came in and gently asked me to stop crying, and to stop making my father mad.
While these two incidents and the others like them happened years ago, they were defining moments in my life and inform how I handle conflict (as in: I don't) and how I go about expressing my struggles (as in: rarely, and often with great shame). Standing in the shower and being unable to not think about these things, I spiraled further. It felt like I was being swallowed by my emotions. I don't know if angry or sad or upset really capture what I was feeling properly. My thoughts were like a car with its brakes cut, going at breakneck speeds on the highway.
By the time I was done with my shower I still wasn't composed. As it turns out, when you abuse a coping mechanism that relies on repression as long as I did, it stops working at some point. There was just too much to try and hide. More hand biting happened along with some hitting my head with my fists. So I sat in my room, and eventually my mom came in and saw my face. Unsurprisingly she didn't acknowledge the fact that I had clearly been crying—instead, with a soft voice, like she was coaxing a small child into doing something vaguely unpleasant, she told me, "Come on, let's go." And I'm sure that's how she was seeing me at that point. An oppositional, defiant child. I struggle not to see myself in that way, and still have been trying to unpack how much shame I feel when things like this happen.
My crying started up again because my tear ducts really don't like listening to me, and I asked somewhat incredulously, "You're still going to make me go?" In retrospect, it probably sounded bratty. Here I was, 20 years old, complaining about being "made" to go somewhere.
It took maybe a couple of seconds for my mom to decide to just let me stay home instead.
Once everyone was out, I had the loudest cry I'd ever experienced in my life. I'd never had the opportunity to, and so it just kind of... came out once the house was silent. I think I might've wailed. And then I promptly shut the hell up once I heard my [maternal] grandmother coming back upstairs. She passed by my room, asked why I didn't go (not noticing the state of my face, maybe due to eyesight). I gave a non-answer and she made some exasperated remark that I don't know how to translate into English. It nearly set me off again, knowing how inconvenient I was, how tired they all were of me and my antics.
I had a headache for the next 20 or so hours, which I knew would happen based on past experiences with breakdowns as emotionally taxing as this one. I'd also predicted during the whole thing that the next day I would be pretty nonfunctional, which I was unfortunately also right about. Whenever these things happen it throws my entire week off. It's upsettingly debilitating. Two days later, I'm somewhat functional, but the whole thing disrupted my... everything. I have an exam that I had planned to study for during the days I was busy trying to get myself back together emotionally. The headache actually came back, and is sitting with me nicely while I type this. Hey there.
The day immediately after, Mother's Day: I was pretty fearful the entire time. Mostly of what my dad was going to do. Best case scenario, he'd come into my room and we could have an open dialogue and communicate about what happened. Worst case scenario, he'd regress and revert back to how he'd been like years ago, screaming at me for my incompetence, my selfishness, my refusal to cooperate with the smallest things despite all our family does for me. After a little bit I had to add on a third possibility: that he would simply go about like nothing happened, which he has also done before. Generally though, I wasn't optimistic about my chances here. I learned through this that I absolutely don't trust him to handle my larger, more intrusive, more ugly issues with grace.
He's been ignoring my existence since my little meltdown. No hellos, good mornings, not even looking at me. He's talking with everyone else as normal. I've been keeping my head down and can really only assume that he's angry with me as I'd expected and based on what I know about him/understand in terms of his personality through prior experience.
While I could give benefit of the doubt and say he may be attempting to give me space, he's the kind of person who you can tell when he's angry. It's something we share. And it's truly more likely that he's upset about me throwing what looked to him like a shitfit over something small and inconsequential, refusing to do something as simple as a visit to make his mothemy paternal grandmother to give Mother's Day gifts. And I didn't get my propensity for avoiding communication and unpleasant conversations at all costs from nowhere, so. Here we are.
I still don't really know if what I had was an autistic meltdown or a "standard" emotional breakdown, whatever that even looks like. I think I'm used to framing my behaviors with neurotypical language, and often language that isn't too kind to myself. So on top of venting a bit, I also wanted to get an outside perspective, and see whether my breakdown sounded similar to any other autistic peoples' experiences with meltdowns.
If there's any advice out there to give in terms of my relationship with my dad, that would also be appreciated. I love my family, but it all hurts, and this has also made me realize that I may have a lot more trauma to unpack surrounding my family than I've acknowledged.
I've been considering getting a physical copy of Sincerely, Your Autistic Child to annotate and highlight certain sections, putting sticky tabs on chapters I find relevant, and providing definitions for words I know he hasn't come across before, to give to him and ask him to at least attempt to read those bits. The more bitter and angry part of me, the part that are tired of having to be the one to accommodate for everything interpersonally, just wants to go up to him and tell him the reason I never go to him when I'm upset is because I'm scared. To tell him exactly what all those times he yelled at me did to my ability to self-advocate, to tell him what all those times my emotions and emotional well being were devalued did to my self-esteem. That the "interpersonally submissive" phrase from my 40 page psych report has roots in the way he raised me entirely on obedience, and how I am still learning that I am allowed to say no in all sorts of contexts. Maybe I can do both of these things, and probably when he isn't pretending I don't exist, and when I feel less like I'll fall to bits the moment I open my mouth in his direction. I'll likely try and avoid using language that outright blames him for the sake of maintaining a good relationship whenever the talk comes around.
I'm still trying to accept the fact that I might need more support than I allowed myself to think. I only recently found out that truly voicing that I'm having academic trouble is something that brings me so much shame that tears spring up in my eyes—going to the Disability Support Services office on my campus made me far more emotional and nervous than I'd expected. With how I'm navigating my own self-acceptance, I don't know how I'm going to get my family to accept that I'm not the "normal" child I know they still wished I was.

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