I (22f) just got out of my first real, long-term relationship of 3 years in January. I've been trying to "get back out there", but I feel so emotionally raw and confused at the state of dating.
I met a man (37m) on a dating app in April. I usually never respond to messages/make plans on my dating apps; I just kind of have them to make me feel slightly less lonely. For some reason, I responded to his message. He wasn't insanely good looking, funny, etc. There was just something that drew me to him.
I was in his town the night we matched (I live in a town 2 hrs away but travel frequently for work). We went out for drinks, and I had a really fun time. He was really interesting, and took an interest in me. We had a lot of chemistry naturally.
We texted a little bit after, and I agreed to go away for the weekend with him a couple weeks later. We met in a cute resort town in the middle of both our towns. I texted him before, saying that I like to physically take things slow. He said there was "0 expectation for anything physical" and that he just wanted to eat good food and have fun, etc. He said if we were to do anything physical, that could be a conversation.
I had a really fun weekend! I opened up more than I ever do to anyone, and he really opened up about a lot (his family, past relationships). He offered me some really genuine advice about a couple things. We went on a hike, had dinner, hot tubbed, and drank.
On our first night together, we ended up "fooling around" but not having full-on sex. The second night, we had sex twice. After the first time, we went to the gas station together for snacks and he must've put his hand on my leg while driving over. I didn't mean to push his hand off, I was just really tired and might've done it accidentally. Later that night, I thought we were both staying another night. He told me that he was planning on leaving, since I didn't seem that into him since I pushed his hand off my leg. I explained that I was really into him, and it was accidental. We had sex again after that, and he stayed the night instead of leaving.
I had this really weird feeling after we had sex for the first time that he had "gotten what he wanted." It made things almost awkward afterwards; he asked me if something was wrong. I couldn't explain it, it was just a gut feeling.
He didn't really seem that into sex. He told me he likes to be dominant, but he wasn't super aggressive or anything about having sex during or before.
Fast forward to the week after that weekend, he texted me right after to make sure I got home safe and send me the pics he took of me. We texted a little bit on/off for like 2 days, and I went and said some dumb shit like "you mesmerized me over the weekend" to test the waters. I was hoping he'd give me some validaion that he felt sparks, too, tbh.
He left that on read, so I called him 2 days after I sent that and he didn't answer. At that point, I felt as if i were ghosted after we had sex (not the first time this has happened to me, probably why my mind went there and started to freak out). I sent him a paragraph about how if "sex was all he was looking for, thats fine, but he should lead with that."
He texted back, apologizing for making me feel ghosted/uneasy, and said he had just been really busy camping. I said that I felt crazy for overreacting, and I apologized. The whole thing made me look/seem really crazy and I was pretty embarrassed. He asked to call me on Monday, and I said sure. He says that he will try to be better about communicating clearly and thoughtfully.
Monday came, and I told him some times that worked for me. He responded later that night, saying work had gotten busy but we could call today. At this point, I'm kind of over him. I like guys who call when they say they will. I texted him and told him I'm sorry for being clingy/desperate, but I'm not in a place to date, after I just feel so sad after my last break up.
This whole thing has really messed with my head. I've never met a man who has made me feel so confused about his intentions. He doesn't seem super motivated by sex...he doesn't seem super into dating me since his communication can be sporadic....?? I am so lost, and this whole experience has made me feel insane LOL. I can't tell if he's the nicest, busy guy ever or a seasoned player.

Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road
He was back at Smiley’s taproom with a petite brunette dangling from his arm, the young signal operator whose acquaintance he’d made while assigned as a liaison officer with the Exploratory Corps. There he was, all big and stiff in his brand-new dress uniform, trying desperately to impress someone who was astronomically more attractive than him and making a priceless ass of himself.
“So,” she purred, eyeing him over the rim of her glass, “Tell me again about the surface. What’s it like wandering up there above all us wee mortals?”
“Erm,” Rene cleared his throat, feeling a hot flush creeping up his reddening neck, “It’s, uh, quite remarkable really. Simply fantastic.”
Having run out of things to say, Rene took a snootful of his drink in an attempt to sharpen his wits. It was so hard to focus with her hanging onto his every word like this.
“Ooh, you make it sound so exciting,” Deborah had tittered. Or was it Devorah? Her name had gotten lost in the fumes of fermented honeydew clouding up his brain. Perhaps another sip would jog his memory. Rene downed the horrid swill and coughed as it burned its way down his throat and up his nostrils.
“Would you look at the state of him!” someone guffawed, slapping Rene on the back, “Cool as cucumbers under fire when there’s a hundred dirty Amits breathing down our necks, but prop him up next to a lass and he goes completely to pieces.”
“Ah, piss off,” Rene said fondly. He turned to see Lethway sitting next to him flanked by two buxom blondes, an Amit axe buried deep in his neck.
“I’m only saying. You’ve got to keep your head on your shoulders, man,” Lethway said, as his own tumbled off sideways and hung on by a flap of gristle, “We’ve got a long night ahead of us with our fine lady friends here. It wouldn’t do for you to be sleeping on the job.’
“Why, Lethie my dearest. I’m sure Mr. Louvoture has the…stamina…to keep up,” the brunette said demurely, batting her eyelids at Rene, “Go on. You were telling me about how amazing it is up there.”
“Yes,” Rene puffed out his cheeks and marshalled his scattered thoughts, “It’s like this, see…how can I put it? Words can hardy do it justice.”
“Try me,” Deborah/Devorah said, tugging at his arm with her warm hands. The girl was practically throwing herself at him no matter how badly he was fumbling the ball. Rene my lad, if you don’t make it tonight you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life, Rene thought to himself.
“Alrighty then,” Rene said, deciding to risk everything by gaze deep into her eyes, which if the romance novels were to be believed, were windows into a woman’s soul. She had very pretty irises, all velvety and shining with something bordering on hero-worship.
“When you’re topside and the suns go down beyond the hills, and the clouds weep tears of crimson as the sky rolls over into a bowl of stars holding all the universe above you, it feels like…like…” Rene trailed off.
“What?” she whispered into the hush that had settled over the bar.
“Well, it feels a little like this,” Rene said softly, leaning in for a kiss. Her lips tasted his, the tip of her tongue quivering with longing. She drew him into her embrace, gripping him around the waist and pressing into him.
Awfully forward, these girls from Mound Sierra, Rene thought with some alarm. Not that he was complaining. They spent an eternity entwined like this, the whole taproom cheering and egging them on.
“Woof!” Rene broke away to catch his breath, “Is it me, or is it getting hard to breathe in here?”
“Shut up and kiss me again,” Devorah/Deborah said impatiently, wrapping a leg around his and holding him tight. Rene put a hand on her thigh and found that she was surprisingly hairy for a girl. Feeling a little repulsed at this he tried to peel himself away, but found that he couldn’t move any of his limbs.
“Mmph. Hmmgh!” he mumbled, his voice muffled by her insistent mouth. He cocked an eyebrow over her shoulder at Lethway, who’d just propped his head back up onto its stump.
“Cheers, big fellow!” Lethway tipped a glass in his direction and downed his glass in one gulp, the drink trickling out of him through a large bullet hole in his chest.
“I hate it when that happens,” Lethway said, staring sadly at it. He looked back up at Rene and said: “Oy! What did I tell you about falling asleep on the job. Isn’t it about time you got moving, trooper?”
“Not yet,” Devorah/Deborah sighed, kissing his neck, “First he has to tell me how much he likes my eyes. You do like my eyes, don’t you?”
“Why, of course darling—” Rene began. But then she pulled back to look him in face, and the words curdled and died on his lips.
Gone was the petite brunette in her oh-so-short skirt, replaced by a furry, many-eyed freak with quivering mouthparts. In an instant Smiley’s taproom was torn away to reveal the awful truth of his current circumstances: he was hanging upside down from a tree and caught in monster’s deadly embrace. He was trussed up by his legs which had gone completely numb, and his wrists were bound together by loops of silk that felt as strong as steel chains. Yelling incoherently, Rene started wriggling like a worm on a hook. The creature tightened its hold and pressed its fangs against his throat, delicately avoiding piercing the skin while looking at him through its row of eyes.
It was a warning. Rene wisely heeded it and stopped struggling. After a long moment the monster let him go, although they both continued to dangle upside down. Rene stared at its face in horrid fascination. He saw now that it had four eyes on its flat, squarish face, the centermost pair dwarfing the two ancillary ones on either side of them. In the place of a lower jaw it had four vertical mouthparts, the shorter ones in the middle tipped with curved fangs while the rest functioned like antennae, moving constantly with little taps and clicks, its grotesque head nodding along with them.
Rene thought the motion was reminiscent of a person’s lips as they mumbled, and he had a disturbing suspicion that the monster was trying to talk to him. The fact that he was still alive also lent credence to this theory. After all, if Amits were intelligent lifeforms, why couldn’t this one be as well? Hoping against hope, he stammered out:
“I—I don’t understand. I’m afraid I can’t speak your language. Haven’t got the equipment for it. See?”
Rene bared his teeth at it in a forced smile, tying show it what he meant. But the monster recoiled from him, pushing off the trunk behind him and leaping back some twenty meters away from him. It alighted on a tangle of creeper vines and hung there in all its awful majesty, eyeing Rene through its four unblinking orbs. It had ten appendages including its stubby antennae, each of them ending in a three-clawed hand. Its shoulder and thigh muscles were enormous, though its potbellied torso was as round as a wagon wheel, sporting a disgusting hump of flesh on its back. No doubt it contained even more musculature to support its powerful limbs, which at the moment were bunched up and ready to spring.
He had startled it, Rene realized. His own mouth was probably just as alien and repulsive to its sensibilities as its physiology was to him. Before he could derive some small satisfaction from that, more of the monsters emerged to join the first, darting out of the shadows with an unnatural, jittery motion. They moved in stops and starts, periods of immobility interrupted by burst of blinding speed, here one moment and gone the next.
“It shpeaksh…” Rene heard someone say in a voice somewhere between a dry croak and the gurgling of a water pipe. Rene looked around for the source of the voice and was shocked to find that it was issuing from the largest monster, the one reclining on the vines like some misshapen ape. He couldn’t believe his own ears. It was speaking Fleet cantish, mangling its way through the words somehow despite the total absence of a jawbone.
“Gallivant?” another queried with clearer pronunciation.
“No blade-wing, thish,” the leader clicked its palps thoughtfully, “Too shoft. Too schtupid. Came from the fire giant. Dropped a sheed pod, it did, like a tree in the wind. The sheed shpun a web and floated. Down, down, down.”
“Shoft like a grub,” agreed the smallest monster somewhat belatedly. A frothy substance with the consistency of saliva dripped from its fangs. It took a step towards Rene, stiffening all over. Before he could even blink it had launched itself through the air directly at him. In the same instant the leader also leapt, slamming bodily into its subordinate and throwing it to the ground.
“No,” the leader rasped, letting the other monster limp away having been suitably chastised, “Questions firshht. The fire giant. Are you itsh hatchling?”
It was staring at Rene when it said this. Rene thought quickly. It was a binary question and he felt that his life hung in the balance, the odds being even either way. Heads or tails? From what he’d heard it was clear that the only thing keeping him from lining the stomachs of these monsters was their abiding curiosity. They had witnessed the Divine Engine and his impromptu ejection from it, and they were under the impression that it had been a living thing and that he was its offspring. It followed that the best thing to do was to maintain their interest in him for as long as possible while he thought of an escape plan. Heads it was, then. Rene said:
“Yes. Yes, I am its ‘hatchling’.”
He glanced around until he found his sword where he had left it leaning against the buttress root, still in its sheathe next to the survival kit. If he could just reach down and grasp it in his hands…
“Good,” said the abomination, “And know you the secret of itsh power?”
“Of course,” Rene said, slowly and surreptitiously stretching out his arms, reaching for the sword hilt with all his might.
“Good, good,” the abomination crooned. There was a blur of motion and the leader materialized in front of him, their faces inches apart. It seized him by the hairs and yanked him close.
“Then I, too, will know its inner workingshh. Once I open your head and drink deep from your mind.”
Should have gone with tails, Rene thought as it lunged for him.
Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road

Hi Reddit,
I'm in need of some advice regarding my current marital situation and the potential sale of our home. To give you the full picture, I'll start from the beginning. Apologies for the length, but I feel all the details are necessary to understand the context.
I (29F) met my husband (40M) on Tinder four years ago. We dated for about eight months when my family had an opportunity to purchase a property. My then-boyfriend was also looking to be involved in a business deal of that sort, and he was interested in having his name on the property as well. My father supported this, seeing as how my boyfriend was a physician with a good income, and saw this as a way to bring him closer to our family. The opportunity came quickly, and we all signed the contract to purchase the house.
Trouble began shortly after this. My boyfriend requested that only he and I be on the title of the house, removing the rest of my family, as he saw a future with us and envisioned it as our potential family home. My father was very pleased to hear this and supported it, so we obliged. During this time, the property had increased in value, and I requested the other family members be paid off so we could buy out their shares. My boyfriend declined, feeling it was unfair.
To skim over some details, here are the highlights of the construction: My boyfriend paid more for the down payment than we initially realized would be required. Because of this, he paid no further construction costs. The construction proceeded with debt from my family until the construction loans came through. My family paid for the construction, and my father built the house for us without charging for his management services. My father was displeased with my boyfriend’s behavior and required him to pay more money for the construction due to inflation and the COVID shutdown. My boyfriend declined, and my mother and I secretly took out a line of credit to front the construction costs to my father, pretending it was from my boyfriend. Eventually, as we got the construction loans on a rolling basis after meeting construction milestones, my mother’s line of credit was paid off.
During this time, my family and I wondered why my boyfriend had not proposed. I decided that if he hadn't proposed by a certain time, I would leave him. Fortunately, he did propose on Valentine’s Day 2022. By spring of 2022, construction was coming to an end, and it was time for us to settle into the house. My fiancé felt uncomfortable with how much money he had put into the house and was worried I could leave him and make a profit. I promised him I wouldn’t leave him, but it wasn’t enough. He said he would believe me if I had a child with him, otherwise women would leave men if there were no ties. I told him I would have a child with him right when we got married. He suggested I come off birth control, as it takes months for a woman’s cycle to normalize after being on birth control for many years. I promised him I would come off birth control.
Coming off birth control was more stressful than I realized. I was very hormonal, breaking out, and felt unlike myself. This contributed to my fiancé and I fighting more than usual. In one particularly heated fight, I told him I would go back on birth control and even purchased the pills, but he told me he would break up with me if I did because he wanted to get to know the real me. I conceded, and then something switched in me and I became excited at the possibility of having a baby. I started tracking my cycle and figuring out my ovulation days. I shared this with my fiancé, and on one of those days, we got pregnant. I didn’t find out until the end of summer 2022. When I did find out, I told my fiancé and suggested we should probably get married.
My fiancé's first response was that we should wait to see if the baby sticks, and if it does, then we can plan a marriage but he wanted to wait until February 2023. I was very disappointed and angry and yelled at him. I felt alone and overwhelmed by the thought of having an illegitimate child. After discussing potentially getting an abortion, potentially breaking up, and potentially selling the house, I talked my fiancé into keeping the baby and getting married. He also wanted to keep the baby but was afraid of our situation. After many fights about when to have the wedding, we finally decided on December 2022. At that point, I was four months pregnant. During this time, my fiancé and I had major arguments that therapy couldn’t even remedy. We would yell at each other, slam doors, I would cry, and he would hold himself up in a room for hours. We had nice moments too, but they were heavily clouded over by the bad.
Finally, we got married, and things were good for a while. But then we faced some marital problems. My husband kept separate accounts and managed the finances himself. We had a joint credit card where I could pay for expenses without being questioned. He made all of the major investment decisions and major purchases. If I tried to disagree or speak up, he would get upset because this was not the submissive wife I had promised him I would be. I made significantly less money than him but lived a good lifestyle, buying almost anything I wanted within reason. Coming from a traditional family, I was upset that finances were kept separate. And so it continued that my husband would invest tens of thousands of dollars into our house so that his family from out of town would visit. We live in Vancouver, Canada, but his family is from Ottawa. In hopes of luring his youngest sister (of four) to Vancouver, my husband would make any modification to the house that his youngest sister showed the slightest interest in. This included a hot tub on the rooftop, a media system in the basement, a movie projector, and much more. After said sister got married, she made it clear that she would not move to Vancouver. Then a switch happened in my husband, and he suddenly wanted to sell the house.
Meanwhile, during all this time, I had my baby, and my husband and I were still fighting more than ever. I felt no support from him, and he felt drained by his work, our fights, and being away from his family. Recently, for the past three months, he has been consistently pushing for the sale of our house. This is where my dilemma lies. I am afraid to sell this house because my husband has kept finances separate, and the mortgage on this house has been serving as a way for me to feel secure. My husband contributes a monthly amount on a regular basis. He could have forced a sale in the past but didn’t, instead paying into the monthly mortgage on top of other bills. Now, he is considering forcing the sale of our house, but I am upset that he is citing financing as the issue when I have been begging him to save money instead of spending (his response is that $200,000 does not affect a $2M mortgage, and that he now feels burnt out and wants to retire sooner and live passively). If I agree to sell, I feel unstable about moving from our home given that my husband and I fight so frequently, and I am left alone to take care of the child. It is also worth noting that my parents live right across the street and come over frequently to help with the child, or I would go over to seek their help. My husband says that he feels abandoned and uncomfortable frequently because of our proximity to my parents, but I am because there have been times when I felt truly alone, and my parents were my only solace and support. My husband would ignore me for days, especially when I was postpartum and vulnerable. My parents now see my husband as someone who doesn’t put his wife and child first. My husband says that the massive mortgage we have is too stressful for him, and he can’t take that burden. I am sad that my husband will not consider keeping this house for another three years so that I can get comfortable with the idea of selling the house and that potentially I and my family can all move to Ottawa so that we can allow my husband to be closer to his family.
I don’t know what to do at this point, Reddit. I’m currently on extended maternity leave, but it ends in six months. My husband and I will have to come to an agreement about the house, otherwise, it is likely that he will force the sale of the house even if I’m not ready to move. I’ve consistently felt rushed and overlooked in this relationship. I am tired of being the small voice that does not impact decision-making. My husband is now being nice to me and trying to show me a good time, but I see it as him turning on his charming mode so that I can say yes to the sale of this house. I’m not sure what to do. Our fights and disagreements are so bad and the marriage feels like doom sometimes (never any physical violence). I sometimes questions even staying with him, but I worry for my daughter. He is a good father to her, when he is present and off his phone.
Any advice would be greatly appreciated.
TL;DR:
I need advice. I met my husband four years ago, and we bought a house together with my family's help. Financial disputes caused issues. Despite getting married and having a baby, we fight often. My husband handles our finances separately, spent a lot on the house, but now wants to sell it. I feel insecure about selling because the mortgage is like an investment to me, and also I rely on my parents, who live nearby, for help with our child. My husband feels stressed by the mortgage and feels homesick for his family 3000km away. I feel overlooked in decision-making and am unsure whether to agree to the sale, or to stand my ground and not sell. Sometimes I question staying in the marriage for my daughter’s sake, or if I should give up on this unhappy marriage.

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weather, web, website, wedding, week, weekend, weekly, weigh, weight, welcome, welfare, well, west, western, wet, what, whatever, wheel, when, whenever, where, whereas, whether, which, while, whisper, white, who, whole, whom, whose, why, wide, widely, widespread, wife, wild, wildlife, will, willing, win, wind, window, wine, wing, winner, winter, wipe, wire, wisdom, wise, wish, with, withdraw, within, without, witness, woman, wonder, wonderful, wood, wooden, word, work, worker, working, workout, workplace, works, workshop, world, worried, worry, worth, would, wound, wrap, write, writer, writing, wrong, yard, yeah, year, yell, yellow, yes, yesterday, yet, yield, you, young, your, yours, yourself, youth, zone.

Does anyone else's face break out terribly after using a sauna? After my work out at the gym I like to use the sauna for a little bit but I find afterwards my face is all blotchy and red. How do I prevent that from happening? Is it even possible? I think I'll try the hot tub instead but gym hot tubs just seem gross, I may have to forgo this altogether

Progress so far

Thought it would be fun to plot a comparison of my escape attempts. Hades 1 was unlike anything I'd played before, so I've got the advantage of experience under my belt coming into 2. I made it to Chronos on the 6th run and then proceeded to really struggle, actually dying most of the time in the first phase. My first escape was 37 minutes and I'm now down to just under 20, though I’ve only gone up to 8 heat at the moment. I'm really looking forward to how that scales as they new options could make things a lot more challenging with lower heats!
https://preview.redd.it/t04noqt29d0d1.png?width=665&format=png&auto=webp&s=37b0fa6b5d5af27fdbf8676397875553a5a82331

Difficulty

After 20+ escapes both above and below, I think 2 is definitely easier than 1. You're a lot more of a glass cannon. While you're winning, you're really winning, but if you don't get a good DPS build going into the 2nd boss then everything turns into a massive time sink, which just increases the likelihood of making a mistake. I think the sprint and how much bigger the rooms feel on average, gives you so much capability to evade and take your time that your main limitation is how quickly you can take enemies out.
With the new card system being as adaptable and upgradable as it is, I think when people start reaching endgame we'll see some ludicrous damage numbers and combinations coming up.

Weapons & Boons

Love the new weapons though I feel the torches could use some love, they're the only thing I can't seem to get going well no matter what I do. I also don't do very well with the axe, but I was never very good with the aspect of Arthur either, so I think that's my problem. It's interesting how some of the play styles are mirrored in both games. The shield power dash into cast from hades 1 is now the argent skull power special into triple attack. It's so similar the muscle memory just took over when I realised what was going on, even to the extent that you pick the casts back up! Even the aspect of Chiron(?) bow with the seeking special is the same with the seeking knives aspect.
Ω moves are great, but to the point where the regular attacks and specials just don’t seem worth it. The most foolproof way of progressing with any weapon seems to be to increase your available Magick total and more importantly restoration rate by any means necessary, then spam Ω casts and whatever is best out of your Ω attack or Ω special. The new cast is SO powerful. Especially the Ω cast. Freezing any enemy, even bosses, and then inevitably piling damage on them (looking at you Zeus / Apollo) is great, especially with the amount of support for increasing damage and crit to enemies inside the cast. Big fan.
On the whole for boons, I agree with what someone said here the other day, that the boons really don’t seem to synergise with each other very well. It seems to be a case of just picking boons that are powerful enough in their own right. I hope that’s just because I’m unfamiliar with them at the moment, but it’s causing another problem that the progression and dependency of boons seems obfuscated. Being able to have more than 3 cast boons is great, but I also don’t feel I’m choosing boons which progress and naturally towards a complete build.

Single Dash

Perversely, I think one of the best changes the made was getting rid of the double dash. It's sort of like how they got rid of Juggernog back in the days of COD zombies and everyone complained, but actually by getting rid of it they've alleviated the burden of having to go for it all the time. I know for myself, double dash was one of the only things I literally never got rid of in 1, it just became a necessary pick. In 1, it seemed the go-to play style was to just hack and slash, dodging whenever an attack came your way, then dodging over to the next enemy (Or more commonly with Eris, just special then attack/dash spamming until it died...).
I will say that while the new visuals make the whole game feel more fluid than 1, the dash does feel a bit sluggish at first, especially considering the small wind up at first. It probably makes you invulnerable just as quickly after pressing dash and I think Mel's dash actually takes you further than Zag's. Zag's dash feels like you're already half way through the dash when you press the button.

The undisputable

Hephaestus dash is the most overpowered boon in the history of either game. It's a hill I'll die on. 10 Magick for a minimum 200dmg AOE attack? With no cooldown? That's better than most calls or hexes.
This is an amazing game. Massive well done to the devs and thank you so much for feeding my addiction! Can't wait to see what Charon looks like when he's in the hot tub.

Hi Reddit,
I'm in need of some advice regarding my current marital situation and the potential sale of our home. To give you the full picture, I'll start from the beginning. Apologies for the length, but I feel all the details are necessary to understand the context.
I (29F) met my husband (40M) on Tinder four years ago. We dated for about eight months when my family had an opportunity to purchase a property. My then-boyfriend was also looking to be involved in a business deal of that sort, and he was interested in having his name on the property as well. My father supported this, seeing as how my boyfriend was a physician with a good income, and saw this as a way to bring him closer to our family. The opportunity came quickly, and we all signed the contract to purchase the house.
Trouble began shortly after this. My boyfriend requested that only he and I be on the title of the house, removing the rest of my family, as he saw a future with us and envisioned it as our potential family home. My father was very pleased to hear this and supported it, so we obliged. During this time, the property had increased in value, and I requested the other family members be paid off so we could buy out their shares. My boyfriend declined, feeling it was unfair.
To skim over some details, here are the highlights of the construction: My boyfriend paid more for the down payment than we initially realized would be required. Because of this, he paid no further construction costs. The construction proceeded with debt from my family until the construction loans came through. My family paid for the construction, and my father built the house for us without charging for his management services. My father was displeased with my boyfriend’s behavior and required him to pay more money for the construction due to inflation and the COVID shutdown. My boyfriend declined, and my mother and I secretly took out a line of credit to front the construction costs to my father, pretending it was from my boyfriend. Eventually, as we got the construction loans on a rolling basis after meeting construction milestones, my mother’s line of credit was paid off.
During this time, my family and I wondered why my boyfriend had not proposed. I decided that if he hadn't proposed by a certain time, I would leave him. Fortunately, he did propose on Valentine’s Day 2022. By spring of 2022, construction was coming to an end, and it was time for us to settle into the house. My fiancé felt uncomfortable with how much money he had put into the house and was worried I could leave him and make a profit. I promised him I wouldn’t leave him, but it wasn’t enough. He said he would believe me if I had a child with him, otherwise women would leave men if there were no ties. I told him I would have a child with him right when we got married. He suggested I come off birth control, as it takes months for a woman’s cycle to normalize after being on birth control for many years. I promised him I would come off birth control.
Coming off birth control was more stressful than I realized. I was very hormonal, breaking out, and felt unlike myself. This contributed to my fiancé and I fighting more than usual. In one particularly heated fight, I told him I would go back on birth control and even purchased the pills, but he told me he would break up with me if I did because he wanted to get to know the real me. I conceded, and then something switched in me and I became excited at the possibility of having a baby. I started tracking my cycle and figuring out my ovulation days. I shared this with my fiancé, and on one of those days, we got pregnant. I didn’t find out until the end of summer 2022. When I did find out, I told my fiancé and suggested we should probably get married.
My fiancé's first response was that we should wait to see if the baby sticks, and if it does, then we can plan a marriage but he wanted to wait until February 2023. I was very disappointed and angry and yelled at him. I felt alone and overwhelmed by the thought of having an illegitimate child. After discussing potentially getting an abortion, potentially breaking up, and potentially selling the house, I talked my fiancé into keeping the baby and getting married. He also wanted to keep the baby but was afraid of our situation. After many fights about when to have the wedding, we finally decided on December 2022. At that point, I was four months pregnant. During this time, my fiancé and I had major arguments that therapy couldn’t even remedy. We would yell at each other, slam doors, I would cry, and he would hold himself up in a room for hours. We had nice moments too, but they were heavily clouded over by the bad.
Finally, we got married, and things were good for a while. But then we faced some marital problems. My husband kept separate accounts and managed the finances himself. We had a joint credit card where I could pay for expenses without being questioned. He made all of the major investment decisions and major purchases. If I tried to disagree or speak up, he would get upset because this was not the submissive wife I had promised him I would be. I made significantly less money than him but lived a good lifestyle, buying almost anything I wanted within reason. Coming from a traditional family, I was upset that finances were kept separate. And so it continued that my husband would invest tens of thousands of dollars into our house so that his family from out of town would visit. We live in Vancouver, Canada, but his family is from Ottawa. In hopes of luring his youngest sister (of four) to Vancouver, my husband would make any modification to the house that his youngest sister showed the slightest interest in. This included a hot tub on the rooftop, a media system in the basement, a movie projector, and much more. After said sister got married, she made it clear that she would not move to Vancouver. Then a switch happened in my husband, and he suddenly wanted to sell the house.
Meanwhile, during all this time, I had my baby, and my husband and I were still fighting more than ever. I felt no support from him, and he felt drained by his work, our fights, and being away from his family. Recently, for the past three months, he has been consistently pushing for the sale of our house. This is where my dilemma lies. I am afraid to sell this house because my husband has kept finances separate, and the mortgage on this house has been serving as a way for me to feel secure. My husband contributes a monthly amount on a regular basis. He could have forced a sale in the past but didn’t, instead paying into the monthly mortgage on top of other bills. Now, he is considering forcing the sale of our house, but I am upset that he is citing financing as the issue when I have been begging him to save money instead of spending (his response is that $200,000 does not affect a $2M mortgage, and that he now feels burnt out and wants to retire sooner and live passively). If I don’t agree to sell, I feel unstable about moving from our home given that my husband and I fight so frequently, and I am left alone to take care of the child. It is also worth noting that my parents live right across the street and come over frequently to help with the child, or I would go over to seek their help. My husband says that he feels abandoned and uncomfortable frequently because of our proximity to my parents, but I am because there have been times when I felt truly alone, and my parents were my only solace and support. My husband would ignore me for days, especially when I was postpartum and vulnerable. My parents now see my husband as someone who doesn’t put his wife and child first. My husband says that the massive mortgage we have is too stressful for him, and he can’t take that burden. I am sad that my husband will not consider keeping this house for another three years so that I can get comfortable with the idea of selling the house and that potentially I and my family can all move to Ottawa so that we can allow my husband to be closer to his family.
I don’t know what to do at this point, Reddit. I’m currently on extended maternity leave, but it ends in six months. My husband and I will have to come to an agreement about the house, otherwise, it is likely that he will force the sale of the house even if I’m not ready to move. I’ve consistently felt rushed and overlooked in this relationship. I am tired of being the small voice that does not impact decision-making. My husband is now being nice to me and trying to show me a good time, but I see it as him turning on his charming mode so that I can say yes to the sale of this house. I’m not sure what to do. Our fights and disagreements are so bad and the marriage feels like doom sometimes (never any physical violence). I sometimes questions even staying with him, but I worry for my daughter. He is a good father to her, when he is present and off his phone.
Any advice would be greatly appreciated.
Thanks for reading.

I need some opinions on taking one of your kids on a trip, while the other stays home.
Backstory: I have two kids, 22m apart, ages 8 and 6. My 6yo was born prematurely and was in the NICU for almost two months, so from the beginning (through no fault of his own), he’s needed more time and attention at times. I’ve worked very hard to make sure I’m never comparing them, once little brother came home I was mindful of things like, “Not now little brother, I’m helping big brother,” and would choose big brother every time I could when LB was a baby. We do a lot together the three of us now, but it’s still sometimes hard because LB is still too little for some things that BB would enjoy (water parks for example). I always try to spend one day in the summer with each of the boys just the two of us to give them my undivided attention. But at home, LB needs more help and support, and that typically falls on me, so sometimes I feel like BB gets the short stick, no matter how mindful I am.
BB had made some comments that he wanted to go to a beach for a vacation (like FL, we live in the Midwest). For my birthday, my mom offered to pay for BB and me to take a 3 night 4 day vacation, just the two of us, and she said when LB gets to age 8, she’ll pay for him and I to do our own trip. I started planning a trip to Orlando. I’m excited and think it will be a great time to just devote my undivided attention to BB doing things he enjoys. I’ve talked to my husband about the trip, and once I said I was leaning towards a trip to Orlando, he told me it was so shitty to go on a big trip like that without LB. That if he were LB he’d be jealous and upset and he made me feel so guilty about it. LB will miss me and BB, but at the same time, I feel like this would be such a special trip for BB and me, since I hardly ever get to devote just my full time and attention to BB. (Example: a few weekends ago we went to a local hotel for a staycation and I was with LB the whole time in the lazy river or hot tub. BB either had to hang/play with us, or was with dad for the 15 total minutes dad was in the pool). Husband says I need to plan something closer, within driving distance, for the weekend.
What are your thoughts as an outsider looking in?

Have a 19 year old house which I’ve owned for 4 years. I’ve upgraded faucets from the builder grade stuff since I’ve owned it and this was a problem before, so I know it’s not an issue with the fixture. Both sinks take almost 5 minutes for the water to get hot. The tub and shower are just feet away and both of those heat up within 1-2 minutes. It’s so annoying. I hate letting the water run for 5 minutes to wash my face at night. It doesn’t matter if the shower or tub I s already running and hot- the sink water is still cold and takes almost as long to heat up. Surely the water for tub and sink is coming into that bathroom in the same line, then getting separated somewhere nearby, right? Is this problem because the tub and shower are moving larger amounts of water through the line faster and emptying out the cold water between them and the water heater more quickly? Is there anything I can do to improve it? Sorry if this is a stupid question. I’m not a plumber but I’ve renovated a couple of bathrooms and kitchens and understand the basics of how the water comes into the house to the heater and then to where ever it’s going, and can’t picture what causes this delay in hot water between fixtures that are in the same room.

Two years ago I got a new Jacuzzi 500 series hot tub. Have longer winters here and usually use it all winter.
The last time I used it was in December, it was fine. Long story short, opened it up today with the intent to drain it and it was empty and the screen was dead.
I can’t test the power myself, but the outside and inside breaker are both on, and after resetting them both tub won’t power up.
Interestingly, the test button on the outside breaker does not do anything. I don’t know if it ever did, I never tried it, it was professionally installed.
I am assuming at some point the tub either failed in the winter, or maybe something happened with the power, and it froze and has a leak.
It was certainly not cheap, and not sure what to do. The tub is still under warranty, the shell is not cracked based on what I can see, I don’t see any current signs of leakage but who knows when it happened after December.
If the tub had an issue I would expect Jacuzzi to fix or replace it, if the power was the issue, the maybe my insurance? Granted, the breakers are certainly “on” when I looked and are not tripping even if the GFI is not tripping.
Idk, just looking for some thoughts on how to handle.

The garage door shut with a groan behind us, closing us in the gloom of the single bulb hanging over the car.
Mother took a drag off her cigarette and sighed as she exhaled, the smoke filled the cabin of the Ford and stung my eyes.
“You really disappointed me today, Julianne," she tapped her cigarette in the ashtray below the dash, "you embarrassed me in front of the other mothers at the Ice Cream Social, shoveling down seconds and thirds like a pig. I thought I raised you better than that.”
She took another drag, daintily holding the cigarette between her perfectly manicured fingers.
“I'm going to have to tell your brother about this," she continued, “he'll have to come up with a punishment fit for a pig."
I felt my stomach drop. My kid brother, Thomas, was only six, but could be exceptionally cruel. Mother seemed to encourage him and was deferring to him more and more frequently for how the house was run, especially concerning my upbringing.
"Mother, please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm sorry I was a pig and ate so much ice cream. I promise I won't do it again, I'll never eat any ice cream again," I was pleading with stone, unyielding.
“Hush your mouth. Go to your room and wait for Thomas," she put out the cigarette and got out of the car, I had no choice but to follow.
It felt like walking to the gallows as I stepped inside the house and headed towards the stairs to go to my room. Thomas had grown fond recently of physical punishment, he obviously delighted in Mother whipping me with a belt or, recently, Mother had allowed him to start beating me with a wooden spoon. He would squeal and giggle like a normal child watching bubbles in the wind while I screamed. I was dreading whatever was going to happen tonight, I chastised myself for eating that ice cream, I should have known she would show up. My sins were always laid bare.
Down the hall, I could hear Thomas watching television in the den. I only got to watch TV for half an hour on Saturday morning and new episodes of Happy Days with Mother and Thomas. Thomas got to watch all the TV he wanted. He could listen to the radio and turntable as much as he wanted, as loud as he wanted. Thomas had an entire room just for his toys.
I entered my bedroom, it was a space I occupied, but it didn't feel like mine. Mother kept it spartan, white walls and white bedspread. A crucifix over the bed and a painting of Jesus over the door. I had my desk and chair and a dresser with some of the porcelain dolls Daddy gave me before he died that Mother let me keep. That was it.
I placed my book bag down and sat on my bed, waiting for Thomas. It was a while, sitting there with nothing but my own thoughts and staring at the open door. I felt humiliated, I was almost thirteen and my entire life was dictated by my brother. Mother kept the house in constant lockdown to keep Thomas a secret. No outsiders were allowed in. I couldn't have friends because she was afraid I would mention him or sneak a friend in to gawk at my brother and tease him for being different.
I would never make fun of him, I was terrified of him. Terrified of what he was and what he was becoming.
Eventually I heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and I felt my heart start beating faster and my palms began to sweat. I kneaded my skirt in my hands, trying to calm myself and dry my palms. His slow arrhythmic footsteps came down the hall and I watched him as he entered the room.
I couldn't help but internally recoil at his appearance, even though I'd known him since he was born, I could never adjust to how unnatural he appeared. Thomas had been born at home and had never seen a doctor, but he was obviously unwell.
He was six years old and was barely over two feet tall, but very squat and wide. His skin was thick and gray, the whites of his beady eyes were yellow and his hair was wispy and white like an old man's, spreading out like a halo around his gargoyle face. A slight odor of decomposition hung about him, it reminded me faintly of garbage cans on a hot summer day. I hated when Mother made me help him with a bath, his skin felt like old brittle leather that flaked onto my clothes in gray flecks. His body was dense like concrete, I could barely lift him into the tub. Picking him up forced his hair into my face where that smell of rot would fill my nose, causing me to gag, silently, so as not to offend him and draw any ire from him or Mother.
Today, Thomas was wearing bib overalls with a red and green striped sweater underneath, reminding me of a grotesque doll.
“Mama says you acted like a piggy today at the ice cream social,” he spoke up to me in his unsettlingly high pitched, yet raspy voice, like a child that smoked as much as Mother, "you need to come down for dinner right now for your punishment for embarrassing Mama."
He turned and walked back down the stairs and I had no choice but to follow his toddling form downstairs to the dining table. We entered the kitchen and the table was placed with two settings. Mother was already seated and Thomas clambered up into his booster seat at his normal spot next to Mother. She took a drag off her cigarette and motioned vaguely to the floor without even looking at me.
Neatly situated on the linoleum was my dinner, not on a plate, but directly on the floor. A pork chop, scoop of mashed potatoes, and a small pile of peas. No utensils, either.
Thomas giggled with glee upon seeing my face.
“You have Mama's permission now to eat like a piggy, now. No hands! Piggies just use their face!” He stood up in his chair and reached out for Mother’s ash tray and flung it out over my meal, peppering my dinner with cigarette ash and butts.
"Oops! Piggies don't mind trash though, do they, Mama?” he giggled and the sound filled me with rage.
"No, they don't,” Mother replied coolly while maneuvering her ashtray back in place and carefully putting out her cigarette before saying prayer.
As angry as I was, I got down on my hands and knees and did my best at eating what I could without using my hands. I knew if I refused, it would be far worse. The whole meal, Thomas made pig noises and would reach down and poke me with his fork, making comments about what a fat piggy I was and how he wished he could roast and eat me. I doubted Mother would even object if he actually did kill me and eat me.
Gagging my way through another bite of ashy pork chop, I felt a warm splat over my head and heard Thomas giggling. I reached up and felt he had dumped mashed potatoes into my hair.
Choking down tears, I asked Mother if I could clean the floor and bathe. She rolled her eyes and excused me to clear the table for them as well while she changed Thomas into his pajamas. Picking him up, she walked out of the room and Thomas stuck his putrid little purple tongue out at me before they made it out the kitchen door.
I silently cried while I cleared the table and washed the dinner dishes. Tears splashed down as I mopped up the mess from my food on the floor. I hated how awful Thomas was. I hated how they treated me. Ever since Daddy died and Thomas showed up, I was their punching bag. I missed Daddy so much.
Mother was kinder then, too. She was still severe, but Dad kept her tempered. After he died, there was a change that came over her. I was only six, so I didn't remember her too much from before, but I did remember her gushing on and on when she was pregnant with Thomas. How the baby was a gift from Our Heavenly Father, that it was going to complete our broken family.
My sixth birthday happened right after Daddy died and I remember sitting on the patio crying while the house was full of people after the funeral, normally he would have gotten me a new doll and a chocolate bar, instead I was forgotten. No doll. No chocolate. Just funeral potatoes and a house full of cigarette smoke from the adults.
Nobody remembered. The closest thing I got was my dad's sister, Aunt Judy, sitting next to me on the patio step for a few minutes of comfortable silence before giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. I don't think she knew her brother was memorialized on my birthday. Next year, Thomas was born the day before my birthday, so it was completely eclipsed as Mother had just birthed her new love into the world…
I stopped mid mop as a lightbulb finally went off. I had never put much thought into the dates before.
Thomas was born a full year after Daddy died. He couldn't be his dad. Who was Thomas’ actual father?
Washing mashed potatoes out of my hair that evening, I ran over and over the timeline. No matter how I parsed it out, Thomas was only my half brother. Going to bed that night, I kept myself awake, going over and over again to make sure. I couldn't remember any men being around at that time, but that didn't mean much. Adults can easily hide things from children. Tension began throbbing through my head and I felt queasy. Mother had always known all of my secrets, able to sniff them out like a bloodhound out or using Thomas to spy. Now I had one of Mother's secrets and I didn't know what to do with it.
First I wanted to confirm it, but it would mean snooping, which was difficult in a house that was rarely left empty. I would have to try finding Mother's calendar book or journal to see if she mentioned any dates or men.
But when could I attempt such a daring maneuver? Thomas hardly left the house. As proud as Mother was of him, she was very cognizant and protective of his differences and didn't want to draw attention to herself or Thomas like that. Mother herself had few social engagements throughout the week and mostly stayed home to watch her golden child.
I finally decided I would take the risk and fake sick on Tuesday, grocery day, so I could stay home from school while she went shopping. All Thomas did all day was watch TV downstairs, so that should give me about an hour to look through her room for clues. I decided to tuck my head down, try to behave as best as I could to avoid their wrath, and wait for Tuesday.
That weekend limped along agonizingly slow. Thomas was in a fine mood and was constantly seeking out a reason to poke me, punch me, slap me… he'd laugh while calling me a piggy with his off-putting wide mouth. I tried to mostly stay in my room and it seemed like neither of them cared.
School on Monday was a relief, but my anxiety ramped up. The consequences would be dire if Mother caught on that I was faking sick to stay home. I didn't even want to imagine how off the leash she'd let my half-brother become in his punishment for that level of insubordination.
I stayed up all night, my stomach was in knots, but I was committed to my plan. Throughout the night, I screamed as hard as I could into my pillow. Screamed until my throat was raw and I could barely talk. It felt cathartic in a way. When it was close to school time, I put on my heaviest flannel pajamas and began doing jumping jacks until my face was flushed and my scalp was soaked with sweat.
Looking in the bathroom mirror before heading down to talk to Mother, I thought I looked pretty convincing, my skin was flushed and sweaty, my eyes had circles under them from lack of sleep, and my voice croaked like a frog.
Heading downstairs, Mother was already feeding Thomas breakfast. I hesitantly stepped into the kitchen and stood there awkwardly for a second, pawing with my pajamas to keep my nerves steady until she noticed my presence and looked up.
“Why aren't you dressed, Julianne?"
"I don't feel well. My throat hurts and my tummy hurts.” My voice graveled out more than I was expecting, I really had hurt my throat.
She strode over to me and placed a cool hand on my sweaty brow.
"You do feel warm. Take an aspirin from the medicine cabinet and go lay back down. I'll check on you later," with that she turned back and walked over to Thomas, who was frozen in place, glaring at me over a forkful of scrambled eggs. The sharp glint of malice in his beady eyes made me shiver before I shuffled out of the kitchen.
I laid in bed, trying my best to look miserable until I eventually heard the faint sound of the television playing in the den as Thomas settled in for his normal daytime routine and the garage door opened as Mother headed to the grocery store. I bounded out of bed and watched the car back out of our driveway and head up the street.
My heart began to pound as I tiptoed down the hall to Mother's bedroom, a place I rarely even caught a glimpse of, let alone entered. I very slowly opened the door, taking great care to not make any noise to alert Thomas downstairs that I was out of bed.
Creeping into the butter yellow room, I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my skull, this was the naughtiest thing I had ever done by far. I stepped onto the rug to help disguise my footsteps and slowly made my way past the brass bed and towards her desk. My hands shook as I opened the top drawer, I pawed through rapidly and found nothing. I checked the next drawer down and again found nothing of interest, just stationary and envelopes.
Finally, the bottom drawer was what I was looking for, a stack of journals from the past decade. I flipped through, trying to find entries relevant to when Daddy died and who Mother slept with afterwards.
I've never fully recovered from what I read.
July 6, 1968
Edgar died today. Car accident. I cannot believe this is real. My light, my life, my anchor... Dr. Benson gave me a sedative at the hospital and I feel so tired. So very, very tired. Why has my Lord forsaken me so?
July 9, 1968
I feel like I am in a very bad dream, I feel numb and disconnected. All the consolation and pity from everyone makes me feel sick. After the memorial, it took everything in me to not break dishes and to scream at everyone to get out of my house. Julianne was moping about crying and I wanted to throw her out, too.
If I hadn't seen my dear Edgar's body in the hospital and held his urn in my own hands, I wouldn't believe he was really gone. I still don't entirely believe it.
I have prayed to God every night asking him to show me why he took my husband from me and I have gotten no answer.
I skimmed over the next few months, as it was more or less similar sentiments repeated night after night. I finally got to an entry that caught my eye.
September 17, 1968
My battle with my faith has been fraught the past few months, but Hallelujah! I feel I can see the Lord again in all his glory and might, for he has given me a way to reconnect to my Edgar!
I was thinking about the night Julianne was born, right in this very home, it was a difficult birth and she struggled to breathe at first. Ingrid, my midwife, made a comment to me that if the baby had failed to wake up on her own, that Ingrid had ways to make sure she would have made it.
I remember asking if it was a medical methodology and she made it clear to me that in certain circumstances, it was a mystical property she used to bring the air of life into a struggling baby's lungs. She gently alluded to being a practicing member of the dark arts. At the time, I felt quite scandalized to have someone like that in my God fearing home. Now I see her as the answer to my prayers! My angel!
On a whim, I called her and asked if she still practiced such techniques. She hesitantly confirmed that she did. I asked, if she could turn breath into the lungs of a child without, could she turn breath into a child that did not exist? Could she magick into existence another child of my beloved Edgar? She told me she had to do some research and she'd be back in touch.
Ingrid just called back after a few hours and said there was a spell she found, but it was dangerous and might have unpleasant results. I said, yes, of course! I trust my Lord and I believe he sent this woman of blessed magick to me for this purpose.
She says we will have to do it soon, in a few days during the new moon. She has a potion to brew, but it is happening! Praise God!
September 23, 1968
The ceremony was last night, and Ingrid believes it was a success, but we will have to wait. It did not take long, only an hour or two. Ingrid lit my bedroom with many beeswax candles and she had me drink a thick and bitter tea that caused me to become quite relaxed and foggy.
From my inner thigh, she cut me and collected my blood in a chalice, with which she mixed quite a lot of Edgar's ashes and other ingredients which I could not glean from my supine position and groggy wits. Ingrid began to chant, calling upon a higher power, as I pleaded with my Lord to let this work. To give me any piece of my Edgar back. She came to the bed and worked the paste between my legs into my womanly chamber, which was very uncomfortable, but manageable with the numbing effects of the tea.
She continued to sit with me and chant, her hand placed over my womb, until she decided at which time it was complete. She left and I fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up this morning, I felt quite uncomfortable, my body ached and when I used the restroom, a yellow fluid like pus poured out of me, but no sign of any ashes or blood, which gives me hope it was absorbed into my womb.
November 3, 1968
Praise be to our Lord, Ingrid just confirmed for me that I am with child, I had been hoping so, I had not gotten my cycle in October, but I wasn't sure if that was because of the discharge like pus that was still coming. She told me that was common with this spell and a side effect that would stop after the baby came.
I feel like I am floating on air, for the first time since Edgar left, I feel-
I suddenly became very aware of the feeling of eyes on the back of my head. I had become too engrossed in what was written before me and I had lost track of my surroundings. Very slowly, I turned around and my heart began pounding again as I saw Thomas standing in the doorway holding his wooden spoon in one hand. How had I not heard him?
He pointed at me with his empty hand and screamed, just a pure guttural screech from somewhere deep inside his disgusting little body. He charged at me from across the room, his horrible feet thumping solidly along the rug. He began beating my legs ruthlessly with the spoon, causing my legs to buckle. I crashed down to my knees in front of him, and he began lashing at my face, pulling my hair with one hand while wailing away at my head with the spoon.
I had dropped the journal I was holding and was desperately trying to get a hand on the spoon or push him away. All I could hear was him screaming. My arms flailed and I reached around on Mother's desk and grabbed onto the first thing I found and sank it into Thomas’ neck.
The end of Mother's gold letter opener protruded under his jaw. He went silent and he looked at me with utter shock. He dropped the spoon and collapsed on the ground, clutching at his neck as his thick black blood oozed out from his wound, letting out a stupendous odor of rot that filled the room. He didn't really say anything or make any noise. He just twitched for a moment and I saw his eyes glaze over.
In shock, I stood over his little body for a moment and I watched as he seemed to mummify in just a few minutes, like an ash person from Pompeii dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. Even his blood that looked like shiny oil a second ago became like potting soil on Mother's rug. Reaching out to touch his hand, it crumbled away like sand.
Panic ran through me like a rabbit caught in a snare. Not knowing what to do, I ran. I ran down the hall, changed my clothes, put an extra change of clothes in my backpack and the last doll Daddy had ever given me and I ran. Mother would absolutely never forgive me and I was genuinely afraid she would kill me in retaliation for taking her beloved Thomas away from her. Her precious gift from God. My feet flew over the pavement and took me away from that house.
I called my Aunt Judy from a payphone outside the five & dime, and told her Mother had kicked me out and asked if I could stay with her. She had always had a strained relationship with my mother and it didn't take much convincing that she had kicked out her “only” child. Only Mother, Ingrid, and I ever knew about Thomas.
She gave me a home and took care of me. She never beat me or humiliated me. Even with her love, I was far from okay. For years I would close my eyes and hear Thomas scream, then the sudden silence. I'd see him fumbling at his neck and turning to ash. But I would also remember all the ways he would hurt me and how bad he was becoming. I could never talk to anyone about it, especially not the silent relief I felt I refused to admit to myself. Over time, however, Thomas' screams became a whisper and his silence faded into dust in my mind.
I moved on with my life. I went to college and became a photojournalist, getting to travel the world and watch history unfold. By choice, I never married, but was quite blessed with many beautiful friendships for companionship over the decades. I found balance in my life and a sense of happiness, if not peace. I never could quite stomach mashed potatoes again, though, they always taste ashy to me.
Mother never made any attempts to reach out to me or find me, at least that I'm aware of. Ten years ago, I was contacted by a hospital and they said my mother had been admitted earlier after falling and was about to pass, so she must have kept some tabs on me to know my phone number for her emergency contacts. Apparently she had collapsed in the driveway and a neighbor called an ambulance. I got there and her only words to me were, “take care of him," as she placed a locket in my hand. I opened the locket, Jesus was on one side, Thomas on the other. I didn't say anything to her, just held her frail old hand with nicotine stained nails until she passed in the night. My mother was gone and I felt nothing except a vague sense of relief.
When I got to her house, it was like a time capsule. Other than a newer television, it was just like it was when I'd fled so many years ago. The smell of tobacco smoke hung like incense in the air. It felt oppressive, like a tomb.
I wandered the house in a bit of a daze. The one place I didn't want to go was upstairs. I didn't want to see my old room, or Thomas' room, or Mother's. Putting it off, I went to fix myself some supper, realizing I hadn't eaten in almost a day. I took a pause when I opened the fridge and saw a baby bottle on a shelf. Silently praying she had been babysitting for a neighbor, I fixed myself some toast with sardines and sat eating in the den watching TV. It had been almost forty years and it still felt rebellious not eating at the table and watching TV without permission.
My eyes grew heavy and I finally mustered up the gumption to head upstairs to go to bed. The stairs creaked in a familiar way under my feet and I was taken back to the feeling of dread hearing either Mother or Thomas climbing up. My old room was at the top of the stairs, I saw the door was nailed shut and had rambling quotes about Judas copied from the Bible in my mother's handwriting taped to the door. I sighed gently and turned from the door to head down the hallway, deciding Mother's room was probably the best place to sleep.
I passed by Thomas’ toy room and I heard a murmur from the room. I stopped, curiosity got the best of me and I entered. In Thomas' old toy room was a crib with joyful clown sheets. Dread swelled up inside me as I heard more murmurs and saw the sheets move. Approaching slowly, I peaked under the sheet and gasped.
Tucked inside was what looked like a baby gargoyle, gray and papery looking. Pus leaked out of its milky, bulbous eyes. I pulled back the blanket and saw it had no legs and its arms bent back, like wings on a bird. It was wearing just a cloth diaper, overflowing with tarry looking stool that took my breath away with its pungency, it smelled like Thomas’ blood, but somehow worse. My heart broke for this poor creature, Lord only knows how many years it has been in this crib suffering from its unholy existence.
So this is who Mother had wanted me to take care of…
Not knowing what else to do, I gently scooped him up. Like Thomas, he was shockingly heavy for how small his body was. Placing him on the changing table, I cleaned him and rewrapped his bottom in a clean diaper cloth. It was difficult, he fussed tremendously, crying and flopping around as much as his flipper-like arms would allow. I tried wiping off his oozing eyes and he snapped his mouth, which I saw was full of disturbingly square yellow teeth, trying to bite me. I carried him to the kitchen and rocked him while I heated up his bottle and he became furious with me, almost barking like a dog when my hand would get near his face.
He settled a bit as he fed, but he would still sometimes suddenly spit out the bottle and attempt to bite me. I laid him back in his crib, this abomination in a clown sheet, and I walked down the hall to Mother's room letting out a long sigh.
Combing through my mother's journals in the early hours of the morning, it looked like she tried the ceremony again shortly after Thomas died, but she either lacked Ingrid’s help or didn't have enough of my father's ashes left. Something went terribly wrong. She was vaguer than she had been about Thomas’ conception, but I suspect she had used some of Thomas' remains. The resulting birth she named Isaac.
Mother's journals told a sad tale of her and Isaac's suffering. She never mentioned me, but lamented the loss of Thomas and Dad relentlessly. She was hyper protective of Isaac, as that was all she had left. If her world had been small before, it became microscopic after he entered her life, requiring nearly constant care. According to Mother, he was blind and colicky, sometimes going years at a time without sleeping through the night. She had breast fed him for years, but she had to stop after he grew teeth and began biting her intentionally and feeding on her blood.
I spent a lot of time over the next few days pondering what to do. I had to get her estate in order, she had left me the house, in an obvious attempt to get me to continue caretaking for Isaac, but I didn't want it. I had my own cozy home an hour away from here, filled with happy memories and my possessions acquired traveling the world. Mother's home had a heavy energy I couldn't shake. Her and Thomas were both gone, but the memories of the scoldings and beatings hung in every corner, like cobwebs that would never sweep away.
So, I fed Isaac and kept him clean and tried to keep him company, although he seemed to hate me passionately. I took care of him, all the while thinking about what I was going to do. After a week, I felt resolute in what had to be done.
Gathering up all of Mother's journals in a tote, I made my way to Isaac and picked him up and carried everything to the living room.
The ancient logs in the fireplace meant for display ignited instantly. One by one, I fed the journals into the fire, burning away years of my mother's consuming sorrow. Isaac fussed and moaned next to me the entire time. When the last pages shimmered away into lacy ash, I took a throw pillow off the couch and gently cradled Isaac in my other arm. It didn't take long before he stopped struggling and I felt his little body relax after decades of suffering.
I gently wrapped up a bundle in a clown sheet and placed it in the fire. It burned furiously, like the paper in my mother's journals, and was soon gone. Nothing but ashes and embers.
“Don't worry, Mother,” I said purely for my own sake, "I took care of Isaac for you."
And finally, I felt at peace.

https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/politics/2022/02/10/biden-smoking-kits-pipes-addiction/6724719001/
I’m not trying to bash Biden and Harris, and will be voting for them a second time soon… The White House appears to have used misdirection and some fancy pants doublespeak to publicly deny it. Here’s how it really works:
We provide “safer smoking kits” to drug users at no cost to them. What the funding bill and resulting grants said is that we, the harm reductionists who run programs, get to decide what goes in to our kits. Technically, they’re not lying. So yeah, let me tell you how the White House is able to honestly say that they don’t fund crack pipe distribution.
Our crack kits don’t technically contain assembled crack pipes… In order to make a crack pipe, a user has to put the screen or Brillo pad (we provide both) in the glass stem in order for it to meet the legal definition of “crack pipe”. It takes about ten seconds to assemble one, and we give them out usually about 5 at a time, depending on how much crack a person smokes. The max I’ve ever given out was 50, to a guy who had an eighth a day habit and was pretty damn wealthy. They get to choose, and they understand that our stock is limited, so they only take what they need. We don’t ask for names or IDs. It doesn’t matter if you’re broke or a millionaire, we serve all drug users and the people who surround them.
Our kits aren’t just EZ-Build crack pipes; we give them lip balm (as crack pipes can get very hot with obsessive use or if it’s being used by multiple people), little wood pusher sticks which help them use crack more efficiently, rubber mouthpieces which prevent burns and disease spread, new lighters, and a few other knick nacks.
We give everyone narcan as well, so they can save their opioid user friends should one get a bag of dope that’s heavy on the fentanyl. Or if they somehow find pure heroin, which was hard to come by when I was using fifteen years ago. In those days, only paramedics carried narcan! Now your friendly neighborhood crackhead carries it as well, thanks to democrats like me!
But what about meth users, you might ask? What about people who smoke fentanyl? Do they get government funded pipes too???
Yes. Totally taxpayer funded, although we do have other grants and donations. The meth kits are pretty much the same, only with taxpayer funded meth pipes instead of crack pipes. For fentanyl smokers, we have hammerhead pipes. We also have clean sheets of aluminum foil with fresh straws for folks who smoke heroin.
We also do needle exchange… Until a few years ago, it was a one for one syringe exchange, but now we give out boxes of a hundred along with sharps containers to anyone except the diabetics trying to get free medical supplies from us… Hell, even then we give them out even though our grants specify drug users as recipients. We dispose of sharps containers, and we make our clients promise to use them to minimize needle stick injuries. We have contracts with a medical waste company, as do all other needle exchange programs.
My ultimate point here is that HELL YES WE GIVE OUT CRACK PIPES THAT ARE FUNDED BY TAX DOLLARS, and we save lives by doing it. That’s not just a bold claim; harm reduction has been studied, a lot (in part because young liberals going in to allied or public health hear the bizarre and ostensibly false things that some ultraconservatives say about harm reduction and love proving them insane using actual large sample scientific studies), and continues to be studied at the most reputable colleges you can find.
So yeah, AMA. And no, I’m not going to send you pipes or syringes. We only distribute to residents of the city I’m in!

Hello. We have a deep well. Currently we have an aerator, a water softener, and a 50 gallon hot water heater.
Our water has been smelling like sewage recently. It is also leaving some orange stains in places but when we fill the tub, the water looks like it is tinted grey. We have had two people come out to take a look.
The first person said we have iron bacteria causing the smell and the solution is a chemical injection system plus a reverse osmosis system (for drinking and cooking water). The cost was $9K-ish. This person seemed knowledgeable but also very much like a salesman and less of an actual serviceman. He was pushing financing plans, rent to own, etc.
The second person said we have hard water and iron in the water. He also inspected the aerator and found a broken pipe in the aerator and significant algae in the aerator. To say it was disgusting to look at is an understatement. He cleaned the aerator and said that what we need is a an iron breaker air induction system plus the reverse osmosis under the kitchen sink for drinking water. Total cost $3K. This person also seemed knowledgeable, and he did more digging around to see what was going on, but he didn’t test for bacteria. He seemed more like a true service guy and not someone trying to sell us.
Our neighbor said that the first company’s “iron bacteria” test is just a sales tactic.
We are inclined to go with the iron breaker air induction system plus a really good reverse osmosis system under the kitchen sink. But we have young kids at home and I can’t stop thinking about how we could have bacteria in our water. But also I don’t love the idea of injecting bleach into our water.
Safe to say, we feel lost.
Any recommendations or information you can share to help us decide whether to go with the chemical injection system or the iron breaker air induction system?
Thank you!

Quick and Dirty: So long as you get Pep Talk by completing the first four dream quests, AND install Ye Olde Chemicker on Plunkett Street, you can get 15/15/15 on day 6 and beat the Ocean City Boardwalk games (Dream Cat not required). The rough outline: You get +2/+2/+2 from Ocean City perks and Charlestown State Pen perks, +1/+1/+1 from any number of hat and pants combos, +1/+1/+1 from the Monster Club sash, +1/+1/+1 from a Noble Elixir from Ye Olde Chemicker, +1/+1/+1 from the devil's food cake (throw a hot link down the H***hole), +1/+1/+1 from your choice of liquor and your bonus from the electrified orb, +1/+1/+1 from your Pep Talk perk and choice of cat, +1 to Moxie from a new set of teeth, +1 to Muscle from Chiropractic, +1 to mysticality from the statue of you, +1/+1/+1 from losing and getting Angry, Contemplative, and Aloof effects.
Beating the Ocean City Boardwalk games requires a minimum of 15/15/15 Mus/Mys/Mox stats. This is missable--it is possible to lock yourself out of being able to achieve such high stats. However, there are multiple ways to get your M-stats this high, meaning even if you miss one route to 15/15/15, another is likely still open. I wanted to make a quick guide about not only how to purely maximize stats, but the different options available to get yourself to 15/15/15.

Always Possible Stat Boosts

On any save file, 13/13/13 should be achievable. Here's how:

• +1/+1/+1 from Basic Humanity
• +4/+4/+4 from Skill Upgrades
• +1 Muscle from "St. Polycarp's Forehead" perk (St. Polycarp's Cathedral quest)
• +1 Mysticality from "Skeptical" perk (pay for a tarot reading three times at Ocean City Boardwalk)
• +1 Moxie from "Expert Sitter" perk (Marvin's quest)

Those, which I assume most folks who made it through chapter 1 know about, bring you to 6/6/6. Potions, alcohol, and food will also easily net you +1, +1, +2 to your choice of stats (you can get higher boosts from food and potions, but they are unique and/or missable), bringing you to around 7/8/7. Then:

• +1/+1/+1 from wearing the completed Monster Club sash accessory (complete all Monster Shack quests). To my knowledge, it is impossible to lock yourself out of this quest.
• +1 Moxie from the "Perfect Teeth" perk (the dentist at the Maize Maze in Gray County)
• +1/+1/+1 from giving prisoners Chiropractor gift certificates (Charlestown State Pen in Government Valley)
• +1 Muscle from the "Well Adjusted" effect using the same gift certificate for yourself

This brings us to 10/10/10. To get to 13/13/13:

• A hat and pants combo can get you +1/+1/+1 any playthrough. The intimidating Stetson from Haim Quarry in The Big Moist with S.I.T. kitchen britches from the S.I.T. gift shop) is the earliest available combo, but you can also combine any puckwudgie hat from Gray County with the corresponding S.I.T. pants from the S.I.T. gift shop). There's also the glorious tiara from the Wreck of the Longerfellow, which is difficult to reach.
• The electrical orb on your bookshelf from Radio Shack in The Big Moist grants +1 to your class' main stat when you touch it.
• The statue of you from Puckwudgie Village and one of the three M-stat cats (not counting the dream cat) can grant you +1 to an additional 2 M-stats
• Finally: Losing battles (NOT surrendering!) will grant you Angry), Contemplative, and Aloof effects for an additional +1/+1/+1.

So, this will get you to +13/+13/+13 fairly hassle free. But that still leaves us 6 points shy of victory. Thankfully, there are myriad ways to reach that final number (and beyond)

Bridging the final +6 gap

All of the following is content you can lock yourself out of, sometimes pretty easily, sometimes pretty early in the game. The good news is, there are so many options, it's likely a path to 15/15/15 still exists on your save file unless you've reached the very late game and aren't lucky.

Dreams

You can get an additional +4 from Dream-related events.

• The Dream Cat from the Prologue grants +1/+1/+1, for an additional +2 M-stats compared with the other M-stat cats. They are very missable, and you can permanently lose their boon if you pet another cat on Chapter 6, as you will not go to sleep again.
• You must complete quests in your first four dreams to get the perk Pep talk, granting +1 to 2 of your 3 M-stats. You choose the M-stats by picking which statue to silence in Yet Another Fitful Dream.

Clothing

• The giant maggot hat, which comes from helping the miners and NOT working with Frogger at Haim Quarry, gives +1/+1/+1 for an additional +1 M-stat.
• Weathered Jeans can be bought from Advanced Pants on Day 4 if you choose it as an additional shop on Plunkett street. It grants +1 Muscle and +1 Moxie, and is the only pair of pants to provide +1 to more than 1 M-stat, for an additional +1 overall. You will only install 5 of the 9 possible stores on Plunkett street during a playthrough, making it easy to miss this shop.

This makes for a maximal +2 from better clothes.

Food

There are a number of food options to grant more than +1 to your M-stats, granting a maximal additional +2 to your M-stats overall.

• Any food starting with H can be thrown in The H***hole in Gray County to make devil's food cake, for +1/+1/+1. Of particular interest are hot links, which can be crafted at arcane ovens from the infinitely abundant phlogistic resin. This is always available in any save file, but easily missed.
• The Dauphin House) in The Big Moist contains a Can of Fruit Cocktail for +1/+1/+1. This item is unique.
• Fruit Advertisements can be gotten from Junk Mail once you've gotten the letter opener on day 6. They give +1/+1/+1 when eaten.
• Fish sandwiches can be bought from Fission Chips or The Underground Restaurant) for +1 to 2 M-stats of your choice (suboptimal, but available starting day 3)
• Finally, picking Botany as a major opens up 2 interesting options for an additional (suboptimal) +1 to your M-stats: You can make a questionable salad at Professor Kalos' Holiday Home which grants +1 to Muscle and Mysticality when eaten, AND you can wander at S.I.T. with Barker to find Odd Fruit for +1 to Muscle and Moxie.

Potions

Potion options are comparatively limited, but can grant an additional +2.

• The Noble Exlixir (+1/+1/+1) will be sold at Ye Olde Chemicker if you install it on Plunkett Street, but ONLY on day 6. You will only install 5 of the 9 possible stores on Plunkett street during a playthrough, making it easy to miss this shop.
• If you take the Chemicals major at S.I.T., you can get Professor Adams as a companion. Talking to him at Ye Olde Chemicker will give you 3 of Professor Adams' special potions for +1/+1/+1. This can only be done once, but can get you +1/+1/+1 potions before day 6.
• Without Ye Olde Chemicker, you can find radium rouge at the Dauphin House in The Big Moist for +1 to Mysticality and Moxie (suboptimal). This item is unique.

Other

There are a couple unique effects that you can use which will last 1 day only

• At The Old Junkyard at Crystaldream lake, there's a tub you can soak in for +1/+1/+1 for the rest of the day. This is a one day only effect; you can only soak once and will not be able to soak any other day. Optimal to soak on day 6.
• Similarly, in Gray County, you can encounter a blob of crude oil surrounded by electrified shale spires. If you choose the option "Harness the Lightning [7 Mysticality] you get +1 Mysticality from the Fossil Fueled effect for the rest of the day. This option can only be chosen once; the event can occur many times, but once you choose to harness lightning, it will never happen again (optimal to do so on day 6).
• Finally, the exploit: You can get +3/+3/+3 if you choose spiders as an elective at S.I.T. I don't recommend it, but it's there.

Bonus Guide to Liquors

-Tequila grants +1 to Muscle and Mysticality and can be found in the Mob Submarine in The Big Moist, but only if you accept the Mob's offer on day 2. - Whiskey grants +1 to Muscle and Moxie and can be found in the Moonshiner's Cave in The Big Moist. - Absinthe grants +1 to Mysticality and Moxie and is found in Rufus' Lab) at S.I.T.
Shoutout to this previous post by u/Mr_Lisreal, which already covers most of what's in this post. My motivation behind making this was primarily that the wiki does not do a good job of displaying potion effects in a browsable way, and it wasn't clear to me if it was possible to completely box yourself out of being able to complete the boardwalk games (to my eye it appears possible, but uncommon). I also wanted a guide out there for freaks like me who enjoy petting cats, and therefore don't want to lean on the dream cat boon because it deprives you of the joy of petting all the other cats in the game.

Decant Reviews Part II: The Revenge! This batch came to me from the most excellent u/Hype_Moments, who thoughtfully reached out to me to inform me of his services after I expressed dismay at my inability to obtain samples directly from Montagne. The decants arrived promptly and packaged securely enough to withstand a nuclear blast! I also appreciate the attention to detail when it comes to labeling: matching Montagne's font and including the notes makes the sampling process feel very deluxe. Great experience, would order again!
On to the fragrances. Unless stated otherwise, I have not smelled the inspiration fragrances, so I am judging these on their own merit. For your reference, I typically prefer unisex fragrances, but I decided to roll the dice and included three feminine scents this time. I'm 29, and I work in both office and classroom environments. Let's get into it!
Eau Vanille: This one is not for everyone, but it's definitely for me. The rich, deep vanilla combined with the guiac wood and incense smells like going to mass at a grand Cathedral. Sophisticated, solemn, mysterious. I imagine that Notre Dame smells like this on Good Friday. Honestly, it kind of reminds me of my confirmation. I swear, the oil the bishop puts on your (greasy, 13-year-old) forehead smells a lot like this. That said, I love this because it reminds me of a positive moment in my faith formation, but it may evoke complex or negative reactions in others. The incense calms down after a couple of hours, which allows the vanilla to shine. Definitely not too sweet, and reads straightforwardly unisex to me. If you're a vanilla-lover looking for something a bit different with some oomph, this could be for you. Maybe not the best choice for the heat of summer, but I will be looking to purchase the full bottle come autumn. Would wear to my arch-rival's funeral.
Strawberry Milk: The wildcard of the bunch. I did not think I was going to like this because I thought it was going to be extremely juvenile and sickly sweet. I ordered it out of pure curiosity after hearing about the ungodly sums folks were shelling out to get their hands on a bottle. While it's definitely a sweet gourmand, it's not syrupy sweet. It's kind of fruity and powdery and just a bit herbal. There's something in here that comes off a little minty to my nose, which is baffling considering the notes. I'm not getting anything particularly strawberry-like, though. Maybe a hint of something lactonic, like malted milk powder, and a burnt-sugar note that could be caramel. Very wearable if you like sweet scents. Not obtrusive, kind of like if you gave a your-skin-but-better scent some moxie. Certainly not your typical celebrity scent. I could see a lot of women liking this. The longevity wasn't the best on this one, though: I think I got about four hours out of it. I'm not personally in love with it, but I'm glad I tried it.
Pink Rose Exclusif: Good Lord, y'all. This THE hot girl perfume. The most attractive woman you can think of probably wears this. It's a really beautiful, sweet, creamy, powdery rose wrapped in a veil of incense and supported by vanilla and woody notes in the base. There's some fruitiness in there too, particularly in the opening. Despite the powderiness and incense, it's quite edible smelling; like a fruity sponge cake that's also drenched in rose syrup, served immediately after the Confirmation service (callback!). I recognize this scent because I have encountered it in the wild on women wearing Delina Exclusif or its dupes, and it definitely... affects me, shall we say. This will turn heads for sure. It also lasts forever with excellent projection. I put on 3 sprays, wore it all day, went to sleep, and then my pillow and sheets smelled like Pink Rose Exclusif for DAYS, just from coming into contact with my arm. You absolutely do not need much of this. As much as I love it, I'm on the fence about whether to buy it, because I'm not sure how often I would actually wear it. It's a little more femme than my personal style usually calls for, imo. Plus, I'm not sure I want all the attention this would garner. That said, it's a 10/10 frag, I'd go for it today if I were single and ready to mingle. UPDATE: After writing this review, I got the opportunity to test the OG in-store, and I can confirm that this is a 1 to 1 dupe. I don't detect any difference whatsoever. Nice work, Montagne!
Pink Rose: This one humbled me. I had already tried the Exclusif version, and figured this was the more wearable, daytime version. I did my normal application (1 spray each on wrists & inner elbows, 2 sprays on the neck, 1 on the front of my shirt) and then headed to the office. When my coworker told me I smelled good from 6 feet away, I knew I had overdone it. I was smelling this all day long, from the 8:30 AM application until bed time. And not just little whiffs here and there, I'm talking constant presence in my olfactory organ. A little distracting, if I'm honest. Luckily, it's a beautiful fragrance. Florals are hit or miss for me, but I have a soft spot for rose. Whereas the Exclusif smells like rose dessert, this smells like a living rose growing fresh and vibrant in the garden. The litchi and rhubarb bring in a little sharpness, and there's a green accord in there that's really refreshing. This is rose done in a modern, interesting way, and I dig it. Feminine, but in a way that feels manageable for my typical presentation. Despite my initial blunder, I do think it's more every-day wearable than its sister as long as you are conservative with your application. Will buy for sure, and probably sooner rather than later.
Carnal Gray Extrait: In a word: exquisite. This smells like being wealthy, well-traveled, and the hottest person at the function. Charisma in a bottle. Effortlessly sexy without being provocative. It's well blended, but not linear. We start with a spicy, herbaceous opening; you get the cardamom right away, with some sweet green undertones. Then, a beautiful dry down. It becomes more powdery with a bit sweetness thanks to iris, tonka, and vanilla. The woodiness from cedar and sandalwood and earthiness from vetiver and patchouli keep it from going gourmand, and the result is something deep, dark, and complex. Perfect for special occasions where you want to dress to impress, this would be the ultimate companion to a well-tailored suit or a fancy cocktail dress. Apparently folks are somewhat divided on whether Gris Charnel Extrait leans feminine or masculine, but to me, CGE is perfectly unisex. Great performance; three sprays lasts me all day with moderate projection. This is my favorite fragrance from Montagne so far, and in the running for my favorite fragrance of all time. It's probably not the best choice for the hot, humid summer that's coming my way, but I don't even care, this is going to the top of the queue. 12/10, I am writing in my will that I want this sprayed on me before I go in the casket.
Brooklyn Jazz: At last, a fragrance that I can compare to its inspiration! I have smelled and fallen in love with Maison Margiela's Jazz Club, and was super excited to see how the wallet-friendly version from Montagne stacks up. Indeed, it's a very close match. We have a nice peppery opening that gives way to boozy, rum tobacco heaven. It's not in the notes, but this definitely comes off leathery to my nose. It smells like sitting in a leather armchair, sipping on dark liquor, and smoking... some kind of tobacco product. I want to say a pipe rather than a cigar, but neither is my vice of choice, so I can't be sure. Either way, old school badass. Think Ron Swanson in Duke Silver mode. If anything, there is perhaps more of an herbal accord here that I didn't notice in Jazz Club, but that could be due to the translation from EDT to EDP. Masculine leaning, but still suitable for ladies who appreciate smokey scents. Altogether, a lovely warm and cozy scent. Decent longevity, but the projection could be better (maybe needs maceration). I do like it, but I'm more motivated to get my hands on Carnal Gray Extrait and Eau Vanille, both of which are certainly different, but occupy a similar region of the fragrance family tree. I may pick it up after I make it through the summer.
Thanks for reading my reviews! And special thank-yous to both u/Hype-Moments and u/AyybrahamLmaocoln for supplying this community with decants and saving us from the anxiety of blind-buying. Let me know if you have any recommendations for my next decant order, particularly more masculine scents that are good for summer; I want my collection to have a little of everything. What do y'all think of Afternoon Dive and Torino 2021? That's all, over and out.

How to increase accuracy
I’ve been messing around with carving on the cnc, and I’m not really happy with how this turned out.
I used a 1/4” spiral up cut bit for the rough pass, and a 1/8” ball nose for the fine pass.
I just feel like the detail isn’t high enough. Is this a question of needing finer bits, or feeds and speeds being off? I used red oak.
Rough pass 140ipm, 0.125 depth of cut, 40% step over, 15000rpm
Fine cut 80ipm, 11% step over, 15000 rpm
Not sure the exact cnc, it’s an old one that used to be used to make hot tubs apparently. It’s pretty massive and can cut 4x8 foot sheets with ease, so it might not be very precise for small cuts like this

Hard, expensive lesson learned so please be kind. I know I'm an idiot lol smh
We had our pool remodeled when we moved into our new home in Nor Cal - it was finished in May 2022. Prior to remodeling the pool was a wreck- leaking with a large crack, hot tub had a leak that literally went into a hole in the ground from shifting. We back to a big hill and let the guy remodeling (I'll call him G) that the clay soil is a big issue in our area and likely the cause of the damage to the pool.
He worked for a big pool remodel company and uses the same subs as the company. He was not contracted but he was getting his license. He had done about 5 of my husband's co-workers pools and all raved about him. One of the co-workers is a former pool builder himself. He assured us that he will level the pool out. I had told him at first I would just like to replaster to see if there was movement instead of dumping all my money into it. He then said well you're going to want to do the deck too as it had separated from the pool. He said if there were any issues he would help repair but the pool would not have any cracks as they are re-rebaring over the old gunite and pouring more gunite on top. There were massive cracks in the original gunite (cost us 13k to add the extra gunite which was not in our bid).
Also, his sub that did the deck made the drainage go out back behind the home where the hill is. So when it rains the water floods behind the home and seeps to where the pool is. I told him when the guy was doing the drainage that it didn't seem right - I see many drainage inspections in my field. He assured me it was fine.
The whole pool and hot tub with new equipment cost over $150k (we are in CA)- maybe even $175. Other companies bid over 200k just for pool deck and remodel with no bells and whistles. We added a grotto and a waterslide.
We noticed last year the pool had shifted significantly likely due to lack of engineering. Then the leaking began and we found the source- between the hot tub and the sun shelf.
G says it’s not his responsibility to repair as he can’t control how the earth moves and that we are in what he calls “a hot spot”. I told him he knew we were in a “hot spot” prior to beginning the remodel and he did not properly engineer it based on the location of the pool etc.
Am I totally screwed or is there are way I can go after him legally, besides contacting the State Contractor’s Board. I don’t believe we have a written contract. If anything, I would jut like the cost to fill it in which is aprox 20k.
Thank you.