Hey there! Happy Tuesday. How is the start of the warm weather treating you?
here's a [PHOTO](https://postimg.cc/vDBzqVC0)
I’m 39, living in Northern Kentucky and looking to meet new people in my area or online! I am fit, bearded, and equipped with a dad-like sense of humor. I work in a technical field and I love what I do!
I’m happily married but always open to love in unexpected places. I love getting to know others and finding common interests to bond over.
Some of my likes include:

• Jokes (let’s exchange some back and forth!)
• Playing sports with my kids (I have two)
• Reading
• Hiking, kayaking, anything outdoorsy really
• Music (listening to everything and going to concerts, anything with a good vibe)
• building things with my hands
• Making bad dad jokes and puns

If any of this interests you, let’s chat and see what happens!

Hello everyone, I have two ball pythons, one 3yo male and a 2yo female and every year between april and may they are in shed for a very very long time, let me explain: I don't mean that they have stuck skin, they're like in a constant state of "beginning to shed", like when they start to be more opaque, their skin wrinkles a bit, their belly is yellowish and they sleep all the time. They stay like that for like, a month or so and then they actually shed after another week or more. I can easily notice when they are starting to shed because they change behaviour, since I notice I bump up humidity to 70-80% so I don't think that there's something wrong with that... This is the third year in a row that's happening, and after this long shed they are healthy and fine like the rest of the year, it only happens in spring. Could it be a seasonal thing? I live in northern Italy and the weather during this time period is always changing, one day could be sunny and hot and the next could be rainy and cold, maybe that "confuses" them and they go in a kind of brumation state? I don't hold them when they are in shed except to check if they're ok so I really miss them😭 Does this happen to anybody else? I can't find any answers on the internet

We just got back from a wonderful trip in the northern part of Italy with our 3-year-old. Having spent 2 weeks on one of our best trips so far, I really want to thank a bunch of fellow redditors who helped refine our itinerary and suggested places which otherwise would not have made it to our plan!
Day 1 Milan: We took a flight from India and landed in Milan in the afternoon. Milan was just the arrival point for us and we did not intend to visit Milan as such, so we ended up booking a room in the hotel at the Malpensa Airport itself. Nothing much that day; a bit of rest and a delicious dinner were a great start to our trip.
Day 2 Drive from Milan to Bellagio: Woke up after a good night's sleep (a much needed one after the long sleepless flight the day before). Breakfast at the hotel was really good with a lot of options for everyone. We had booked a car through SIXT at the Malpensa airport. Getting the car was a breeze with great service from the representative at the SIXT counter. The drive to Bellagio was a very good one. I was still getting used to the car, since I come from a land of right-hand drive and switching to a left-hand drive meant putting in a lot more focus on the road. Driving along the Lake Como was a fantastic experience. We reached Bellagio by lunch time and our AirBnB was ready for us. The rest of the day was at leisure, with a casual walk around Bellagio, through the city center and along the lake.
Day 3 Bellagio to Varenna: Took a ferry to Varenna and had breakfast at a lake side cafe. With great weather on our side, a cup of coffee and a little pastry seemed more blissful than we thought of! We had signed up for a picnic on the hills of Camaggiore, a 40-minute drive from the Varenna ferry station. We had our representative waiting for us and she drove us to the picnic spot, sharing tales from the towns of Lake Como, showing us amazing views along the way. The picnic itself was surreal, with the most beautiful view of the lake from 1200 meters above. We spend the rest of the day exploring Varenna at our pace, while our little one slept like a log in the stoller.
Day 4 Bellagio: After debating weather to visit the Como town or not, we decided to stay in Bellagio in explore the town a bit more. We took a ride of the Bellagio Express, the toy train that takes you around the town. It was a fun ride, intended for our toddler, who decided to doze off in the train itself! Post that, we saw the gardens of the Villa Melzi. We had rented a boat to explore the lake ourselves during the evening, but rainy weather made us cancel our plans. We spent the rest of the evening, relaxing at our AirBnB, overlooking the lake.
Day 5 Drive from Bellagio to Gardaland: Moving on to the next leg of our trip, which was clearly planned keeping our little boy in mind, we drove to Gardaland reaching there by noon. Thanks to a wonderful fellow Redditor, we got introduced to this wonderland called Gardaland! Our stay was booked at the Gardaland Hotel and while we were waiting for our room to get ready, we decided to pay a visit to the Gardaland Resort park right away. A drizzly weather kept most of the visitors inside the SEA Aquarium, but that also meant we had absolutely no waiting times on most of the rides in the park! The little one was elated to see the Peppa Pig Land, and refused to move away from it. All in all, day one in the park was a super success despite the wet weather. Evening at the hotel was full of fun-filled activities for the kids. The entertainment team at Gardaland Hotel did a fabulous job at keeping kids engaged.
Day 6 Gardaland: Our second day in the Gardaland park was a much more planned one, since we had already explored some of the park on the previous day. We knew the rides we wanted to go on, and so logistics were simpler. Weather was great too, and so we had a wonderful time! The park has a plethora of options to eat, with a ton of sweet treats along the way. The park is huge but very well laid out with clean facilities. Naturally, day two also could not be completed without visiting our favorite Peppa Pig! Evening at the hotel was again fun-filled with the team at Gardaland doing what they do the best!
Day 7 Parco Natura Viva: Gardaland is in proximity to a lot of amusement parks and points of recreation for family and friends. One of them is Parco Natura Viva, a zoo with a drive-through safari. It was a Saturday and the zoo had enormous waiting times for the cars to enter the Safari. After having waited in the queue for over an hour, we finally started the Safari, which turned out to be pretty great. Next, we had the fauna park (the walkable part of the zoo), the one with animals in their enclosures. With the entire park divided into geographical zones, it was fun seeing animals from various continents. The place is well-maintained, and creates a great experience for kids.
Day 8 Verona: We had kept an extra day in Gardaland just in case the little man wanted to visit the park again. However, given the proximity, we decided to do a day trip to Verona instead. We drove to Verona and parked our car in one of the paid parking lots. We had reserved a morning slot for a walking tour, that took us through the streets of Verona, with our very knowledgeable guide sharing tales from historic Verona, the castle and gate to the old city center. The center was bustling with stores and eateries. Very touristy but was all the more fun! Our taste buds were craving for some Indian food and we ended up having lunch at an amazing Indian restaurant named "Maharajah". The food was delectable with very prompt service. As touristy as it sounds, we did go to "Casa di Giulietta", commonly known as Juliet's house that is known for the legacy of Romeo and Juliet having been inspired from there. The so-called Juliet's balcony is missable at best.
Day 9 Drive from Gardaland to Venice: Switching to the last leg of our trip, this was supposed to be the wife's part of the trip. She has wanted to visit Venice for as long as she remembers, and this trip could not have happened without a leisurely stay in the city of canals! This was also the last day of us keeping the car, and we drove to Venice Marco Polo Airport where we returned the car at the SIXT counter. Once again, just like the pick-up the return process was extremely smooth and lasted barely a couple of minutes. Our plan was to catch the Alilaguna airport water bus to the main island, but we decided to splurge at the last moment and took the water taxi instead. And boy were we happy! The water taxi is an experience in itself, especially when entering the canals from the airport. Our AirBnB was located right on the Grand Canal, giving us uninterrupted views of the Canal. For a place that looked better in person than in pictures, what more could we have asked for! We spent the evening walking to the Rialto Bridge, people-watching!
Day 10 St. Marks square and Dodge's Palace: After a good night's sleep, we woke up refreshed, taking in the morning views of the Grand Canal, with the gondola's and the various boats floating by, doing their chores for the day. We had booked a tour of the St. Marks square and the Basilica, along with the Dodge's Palace. Unfortunately, it had to be a rainy day. While we still participated in the tour, the place became very crowded because a lot of people tried to maximize on the time indoors to avoid the rain. Nonetheless, it was a good experience. The little one dozed off in the Basilica and so we let my wife carry on with the tour of the palace, while I took a table under an umbrella at the Cafe Lavena to get myself some coffee, and to let my son enjoy his sleep. We spent the evening loitering around the Rialto market, spoiling ourselves with a few gelatos at Suso!
Day 11 Murano, Burano and Torcello: We woke up early, fixed ourselves some breakfast and were ready to leave. We had booked a tour of the 3 islands and our job was to get to the meeting point as soon as possible. Unfortunately, we missed our group and had to visit the islands on our own. The upside to this was that we could do it at our own pace! This included having a hearty lunch at a beautiful local cafe in Torcello. This place had a chidren's play area too! This also meant spending more time than necessary in Burano, because why not? We loved the colorful houses on the island and we just wanted to be there, taking in everything it had...
Day 12 Leisure and Photoshoot: My wife and I generally have this idea of booking a small photoshoot at every exquisite location we visit. This not only gives us great pictures for memories, but it also allows us to see areas which we would otherwise not know existed. We booked this experience through AirBnB and our photographer was a wonderful man, very learned and a true Venetian at heart! He took us to places that were free of tourists, for some amazing pictures. Not only that, he also arranged for a special Gondola ride for us, which took us through the narrower canals of Venice, adding to the already special experience. A trip to Venice is really incomplete without a Gondola ride, and we were glad we could! This was the last evening of our trip and we could not conclude it without a few more Aperol Spritz's and Gelatos from Suso!
With every trip we take, we learn a lot, that helps us make our future trips better. We consciously chose to skip the more popular locations like Rome and Florence (Tuscany), since we wanted to have ample time of leisure and just do nothing, with a toddler who wanted to just be.
If I could summarize the learnings of this trip, they would be:

• Travelling with a toddler is great, if you leave a lot of room for rest and leisure. It not only allows you to be, but it also leaves scope to rome around the place and absorb the local life beyond the tourist favourites
• Lake Como has a lot to offer. While day trips from Milan sound good, staying in a Lake Como town lets you enjoy the serenity of the lake in a more intimate manner. A couple of days at the least, three days to make it worth while.
• Driving around Lake Como can be fun, but can also become a bit intimidating if you are trying to drive slow on the roads that circle the lake and there are cars behind you, trying to get ahead. Staying calm is the key!
• Gardaland is unchartered territory for people outside Italy, and if travelling with kids, must find a place in the itinerary.
• We had a lot of people advising us against spending 4 days in Venice, but we do not regret it even a bit. Venice is a city unlike anything we've been to so far. It is very difficult to imagine the daily life of the people living there, unless you decide to stop and slow things down yourself, experiencing the little things that the place has to offer.
• It is absolutely ok to not cover every point of interest at a place you are staying. Ticking everything off the list does not give the same satisfaction as enjoying the few things that you do, at a pace that you like.
• Lastly, strollers are a boon, even with the cobbled streets. They serve a great deal for quick afternoon naps, as well as meal times. It indeed is a pain carrying them over the hundreds of bridges in a place like Venice, but the pros still outweigh the cons.

Part two has a brief introduction to each of the characters!

1. Zephyr Stormrider sails the seas of time, seeking to unravel the mysteries of his temporal powers and rewrite the course of history to save his lost love.
   
2. Luna Emberheart, an empathic astronomer, embarks on a cosmic quest to prevent an otherworldly catastrophe, using her celestial connections to guide her.
   
3. Orion Frostblade, a silent warrior with time-manipulating abilities, must navigate a frozen world to prevent an ancient evil from shrouding the universe in eternal ice.
   
4. Seraphina Moonshadow, a shape-shifting bard, undertakes a musical odyssey to restore balance to a realm torn apart by the disharmony of warring factions.
   
5. Ignatius Thunderhoof, the steampunk centaur engineer, races against time to thwart a mechanical uprising fueled by a corrupt inventor's dark ambitions.
   
6. Velvet Whisper, the rogue librarian, dives into the realms of literature to mend the fabric of reality, unraveling a plot that threatens to consume the world.
   
7. Octavia Quicksilver, a clockwork automaton detective, unravels a city-wide conspiracy while utilizing her retractable tools and uncanny deduction skills.
   
8. Nebula Dancer, the cosmic ballet dancer, strives to restore cosmic balance disrupted by celestial turmoil, using her mesmerizing dances to weave reality.
   
9. Magnus Ironweaver, a blacksmith of emotions, forges weapons imbued with feelings to forge alliances and challenge the oppressive rulers of a divided realm.
   
10. Aurora Flux, the reality-bending painter, battles through alternate dimensions spawned by her own creations, seeking to mend the tears in the fabric of existence.
    
11. Silas Shadowstep, the shadowy rogue, embarks on a journey to reclaim his stolen identity, navigating the shadows to unveil a conspiracy that spans dimensions.
    
12. Tesla Starwhisper, the electrically charged astronomer, endeavors to harness the power of the Northern Lights to prevent an impending cosmic catastrophe.
    
13. Lyra Songbird, the singer with healing melodies, embarks on a musical pilgrimage to mend the hearts of a broken kingdom and bring about lasting harmony.
    
14. Nimbus Skyweaver, the skydiving instructor, soars through the clouds to uncover the truth behind a mysterious airborne phenomena threatening the world.
    
15. Ember Swiftstrike, the fire-controlling martial artist, embraces her flames to face a dark force threatening to engulf the world in an eternal blaze.
    
16. Cogsworth Gearhart, the clockwork butler, embarks on a whimsical adventure to recover stolen artifacts from his pocket dimension, preventing chaos.
    
17. Isadora Dreamweaver, the dream architect, navigates the dream realm to unravel a plot that blurs the lines between reality and the fantastical.
    
18. Galadriel Stormcaller, the elven archer, leads a rebellion against tyrannical forces using her enchanted arrows to manipulate the elements.
    
19. Tiberius Stoneheart, the geokinetic geologist, explores the depths of the earth to prevent a cataclysmic eruption that could devastate the surface world.
    
20. Selene Nightshade, the necromancer florist, must balance the delicate harmony between life and death to stop a malevolent force that threatens the natural order.
    
21. Nimbus Thunderpaws, the weather-controlling cat, joins forces with a group of unlikely heroes to prevent a feline-centric apocalypse.
    
22. Vesper Whisperwind, the psychic detective, uses her unique abilities to solve a series of cryptic mysteries plaguing her city.
    
23. Percival Moonstrider, the time-traveling knight, battles across eras to mend the fabric of time, preventing reality from tearing apart at the seams.
    
24. Mystique Mirage, the illusionist chef, whips up culinary wonders to save her culinary kingdom from a reality-warping culinary catastrophe.
    
25. Zara Silverflame, the silver-tongued diplomat, navigates political intrigue and manipulates emotions to prevent a war that could consume the known world.
    
26. Oberon Frostwhisper, the winter spirit, faces an existential threat to his realm, battling to protect the delicate balance between the seasons.
    
27. Harmony Sunburst, the sound-based healer, embarks on a quest to restore a mystical sound crystal that maintains the harmony of her realm.
    
28. Draven Nightengale, the cursed storyteller, must confront the living embodiments of his tales gone awry to prevent a storybook apocalypse.
    
29. Astrid Starshaper, the cosmic cartographer, unravels a cosmic conspiracy as she charts the unexplored realms between the stars.
    
30. Blaze Shadowblade, the dual-wielding rogue, seeks redemption for his dark past by thwarting a shadowy organization's plan to plunge the world into chaos.
    
31. Iris Sparkleweaver, the crystal sculptor, crafts living sculptures to aid her in a quest to restore balance to a world plagued by magical disturbances.
    
32. Orion Mistwalker, the fog-controlling ninja, must navigate treacherous political landscapes and deadly mist-covered terrains to save his homeland.
    
33. Solaris Swiftwing, the winged courier, races against time to deliver a crucial message that could prevent a celestial catastrophe.
    
34. Seraphic Gearspring, the clockwork alchemist, must concoct an elixir to reverse a curse that threatens to turn her city into a steampunk nightmare.
    
35. Luna Silverthorn, the celestial archer, embarks on an epic journey to retrieve stolen starlight and prevent the world from falling into eternal darkness.
    
36. Tesla Thunderstrike, the lightning-wielding mechanic, builds a coalition of rebels to overthrow a tyrannical ruler exploiting the power of electricity.
    
37. Nyx Nightshade, the shadowy enchantress, weaves a web of shadows to uncover a conspiracy that spans both the mortal and magical realms.
    
38. Aegis Stormforge, the blacksmith with protective energy shields, leads a rebellion against an oppressive empire using his formidable creations.
    
39. Vortex Dreamwalker, the dream explorer, delves into the nightmares of a haunted city to banish a malevolent entity that feeds on fear.
    
40. Ragnar Frostbeard, the Viking with ice manipulation powers, embarks on a journey to reclaim his ancestral lands from a fire-wielding usurper.
    
41. Sylph Swiftsong, the wind-controlling minstrel, must confront a malevolent force that seeks to unleash destructive storms upon the world.
    
42. Ember Ironheart, the fire-forged golem, seeks to understand her origins and prevent a war between elemental forces that could consume the world.
    
43. Astral Serpentara, the cosmic serpent, slithers across dimensions to confront an ancient evil threatening to unravel the fabric of reality.
    
44. Nocturna Whisperwind, the night-loving ranger, defends her enchanted forest from an encroaching darkness that threatens to consume all.
    
45. Celestia Stardancer, the balletic star entity, dances across galaxies to restore cosmic harmony disrupted by celestial discord.
    
46. Ignis Flamestrider, the lava-walking explorer, traverses treacherous volcanic landscapes to uncover a plot to unleash molten chaos upon the world.
    
47. Silvanus Thornheart, the plant-controlling druid, battles against deforestation and industrial expansion to protect the sacred balance of nature.
    
48. Stormbringer, the airship captain, sails through stormy skies to uncover the truth behind a mysterious airborne anomaly threatening the
    

https://www.belfasttelegraph.co.uk/news/environment/lough-neagh-crisis-budget-branded-a-day-late-and-dollar-short-but-its-decades-late-and-lot-of-money-short/a963025057.html
Dr John Barry says Minister Andrew Muir should alert British and Irish governments and demand help
Liam Tunney Today at 06:35
The money allocated by Stormont to address ecological problems on Lough Neagh “will not touch the sides” of what is needed, an environmental academic has said.
Last year the Lough was besieged by blooms of blue-green algae, causing vast swathes of thick green substances on its surface.
The crisis resulted from the perfect storm of higher temperatures, prolonged periods of rain and higher nutrient content in the water due to agricultural run-off.
Environment Minister Andrew Muir told the Assembly on Monday that £1.6m had been allocated by the Executive to his department in capital funding and no resource funding for the issues besetting the lough, with officials now looking at other ways to fund the work needed.
Mr Muir said the allocation given to his department was “disappointing”.
He added: “We need to invest in turning the situation round in Lough Neagh.”
The minister also told the Assembly he had commissioned scientific research to assess the effect of removing sand from the lough.
Dr John Barry, Professor of Green Political Economy at Queen’s University Belfast, said the amount allocated would not be anywhere near enough to solve the issues.
“It’s not even going to touch the sides,” he told the Belfast Telegraph.
“The timescales — going on the meeting Save Our Lough had with him last week — were in terms of decades.
“There is an American adage — a day late and a dollar short — but it’s going to be decades late and a lot of money short to address this.
“It is disappointing; the longer we delay addressing the causes of the problems with the Lough, it’s going to take longer and cost more.”
With warmer temperatures expected in 2024 due to the El Nino phenomenon, Dr Barry said the issues that plagued Lough Neagh last year would be even worse this year.
“It’s going to be warmer this year, so it is probably going to be worse than it was last year,” he said.
“The crisis is not caused by climate change, but climate change means the water is warmer, which causes more energy and therefore the algae blooms increase.
“It is a disaster and there is no sign the government is going to be taking it with any degree of seriousness. This really should be an Executive Office priority, not just for DAERA.”
Dr Barry said Mr Muir should be alerting the British and Irish governments to the scale of the problem and demanding more money.
“I think this is such an emergency and it has been declared as such. This is 40% of our drinking water, the largest freshwater lake in these islands. It is an extraordinary situation,” he said.
“Why isn’t he going to the British government and Irish government and saying, ‘Give us more money’? That would be evidence that he is really taking this seriously, rather than asking his [Executive] colleagues nicely.
“He has now tasked his officials to go and find a bit of money down the back of a sofa and we all know how that’s going to work out — it’s not going to be enough.
“This is going to run and run; it’s going to get considerably worse. We could be looking at irreparable damage to the Lough unless it’s addressed now.”
It comes after the Assembly passed a motion calling for an “ecological and biodiversity crisis” to be declared in Northern Ireland.
The motion, tabled by the SDLP opposition, also urged DAERA to bring forward legislation to establish an independent Environmental Protection Agency as outlined in the 2020 New Decade, New Approach agreement.
Mid Ulster MLA Patsy McGlone welcomed the passing of the motion.
“In the past few days with the spell of hot weather we are already seeing signs of the re-emergence of the toxic algae blooms which wreaked such havoc over the past year, killing wildlife, destroying biodiversity and impacting local businesses,” he said.
“The reasons for the ecological crisis at the Lough are well-worn, but it is deeply disappointing that we stand here again on the brink of another summer where little has been done to address these issues.
“Parties have been clear on the need to act to protect the long-term future of the Lough.
“One of the Minister’s first visits after assuming office was to the Lough, but we need action if we are going to save this precious resource.
“Protecting our environment should be a priority for every department and there needs to be ownership of this issue from the entire Executive.
“The SDLP has been calling for an independent Environmental Protection Agency for well over a decade and it was agreed as part of New Decade, New Approach.
“What we have been doing up until this point clearly isn’t working and it is our view that an independent body will give us the best chance of safeguarding our natural resources like Lough Neagh.”

Solar panels are marvels of modern engineering, silently transforming sunlight into usable electricity. But what exactly is the power output of a solar panel? How much energy can you realistically expect from these sleek, sun-soaking rectangles?
This comprehensive guide will demystify solar panel power output, explaining the key concepts, influencing factors, and how it translates to meeting your energy demands.

Watts and Kilowatts: The Language of Solar Power

Like light bulbs, solar panels are rated in watts (W). This measurement indicates their maximum power production under ideal conditions, known as peak sun.
​

• Watt: A single unit of power. Think of it as the "brightness" of a solar panel.
• Kilowatt (kW): A thousand watts. Most residential solar panel systems range from 4 kW to 10 kW.

Standard Solar Panel Wattage

Modern residential solar panelstypically range from 250 to 450 watts per panel. This means a single panel could power several small appliances or a significant portion of a larger one. However, most homes need multiple panels to cover their entire energy needs.

Factors Affecting Solar Panel Output

The power output of a solar panel isn't static; it's influenced by several factors:
​

• Sunlight Intensity: The more intense the sunlight, the more power your panels will generate. This varies throughout the day and seasonally.
• Panel Efficiency: Not all panels are created equal. Some convert sunlight to electricity more efficiently than others. Look for panels with higher efficiency ratings for optimal output.
• Temperature: Ironically, solar panels become less efficient as temperatures rise. This is why proper ventilation and mounting practices are crucial.
• Shading: Any obstruction, even partial, reduces a panel's output significantly. Proper placement and orientation are vital to maximize sunlight exposure.
• Angle and Orientation: In the Northern Hemisphere, panels facing south at a tilt angle roughly equal to your latitude typically produce the most energy.

From Watts to Kilowatt-Hours: Your Solar Energy Production

The amount of electricity your solar panels generate over time is measured in kilowatt-hours (kWh). This is the unit you see on your electricity bill.
To estimate your annual production, consider:
​

1. Your System Size: The total wattage of all your panels combined (e.g., a 6 kW system has 6,000 watts).
2. Peak Sun Hours: The average daily hours of direct sunlight in your location.
3. Panel Efficiency: This will vary based on the specific model.

A solar professional can provide a more accurate estimate tailored to your location and system.

Matching Output to Your Needs

The goal is to match your solar panel system's output to your home's energy consumption. Factors to consider include:
​

• Your Electricity Usage: Analyze your past bills to determine your average monthly kWh usage.
• Future Energy Needs: Are you planning to add electric appliances or vehicles? This may increase your energy needs.
• Financial Goals: Do you want to offset your entire bill or just a portion?

FAQs

• What is the average solar panel output per day? This varies greatly depending on location, panel efficiency, and weather conditions. A rough estimate is 1.5 to 2.5 kWh per day for a standard panel.
• How do I calculate how much solar power I need? A solar professional can help you accurately size your system based on your energy usage and goals.
• Can I add more solar panels later? Yes, most systems can be expanded if your energy needs increase.

Read more: The Best Time to Install Solar Panels: A Strategic Guide for Savings and Sunshine

​

Conclusion

Understanding solar panel power output is key to making informed decisions about your renewable energy journey. With the right knowledge and guidance, you can harness the sun's power to significantly reduce or eliminate your reliance on the grid, save money, and contribute to a cleaner environment.

Hardening off on and off due to weather in northern Utah snowing and hailing last week. Just planted my first two beefsteaks and I’m freaking out like a mom sending their child to kindergarten (no I’m not comparing children to plants calm down, but kinda with how I feel) 😱

Hi everyone! I’m super excited to start a semester exchange in Oslo in August! I plan on hiking all around Oslo and traveling as far as I can on weekend trips, but other than that my Norway travel is restricted until the semester is over in December. Then in January I plan on going far north to see the northern lights.
This is my delima: I have an extra 10 days to make it from Paris to Oslo solo in early August before the semester starts. This is my first time in Europe and first solo trip (I’m F freshly 20). The amount of options is seriously overwhelming me.
My immediate thought was just to Interrail, stopping by Amsterdam and cophenhegan.
I then realised that if im going to Oslo to experience the beauty of Norway, I should probably use that time to hike in the summer before the weather worsens. I’ve never been so I’ve got no clue, but it seems hiking in winter is brutal. Will I still be able to see lots of nature in winter, or is summer much more desirable? Are there any must do Norwegian summer experiences? And how should I split all the wonderful destinations between my summer week and my winter northern light travels? :))
Any guidance is extremely helpful as im very conflicted!

With the recent bad weather in northern Florida my dad had a tree get uprooted and crashed into the back of his house. He text me and of course I was thankful he was safe and unharmed, however he is expecting me to take time off work and drive down to help him clean and make repairs. I told him that just wasn’t gonna be in the cards. I am a single father with a 16 year old who is about to finish the school year and there are all kinds of events coming up this week and I have a doctors appointment at the end of the week for a reoccurring problem I have been having. He totally blasted me, telling me how he would have done it for his dad and how ungrateful I am. Like WTF? Am I seriously in the wrong here?

We had a spell of hot weather (75F+) between rains for about a week, where our irregation was not setup for spring / summer. Parts of my lawn are now seemingly struggling -- they look schorched (see pictures). What can I do to and get my lawn back to a healthy state overall?
Irregation is now operational and running 2x per week at night, in 2 rounds of 5 minutes one hour apart (3am and 4am). This has been going on for a couple of weeks but not really making much of an improvement.
The lawn is 90% Dwarf Fescue & 10% Kentucky Blue. Located in Northern California. Thanks in advance for any pointers!

I’m currently in New Mexico, and have recently visited Arizona and Texas - it’s hot, like 98* in the Spring, can’t be outside comfortably hot. In the winter, places like Buffalo, NY or Minnesota get the opposite problem, extreme cold. What is the appeal of living in an area that has such extreme weather, and what is stopping people from living somewhere more mild, let’s say, Northern California or Washington State?

People say it's childish to be afraid of the dark. They say it's a symptom of an overactive imagination. And yet the same people- all people- know that you don’t go out at night, not without light or charm. And everyone knows, instinctively, in the marrow of their bones, that you don’t go out on a moonless night.
I had been out on a moonless night for days. Most people can’t tell, but once you're trained, you can- Darkness loves darkness. She likes to stretch her time out as long as she's possibly able. Everyone wants to spend time with kindred spirits. It’s nature, human or otherwise.
There’s nothing I can do about it, so I do my best to enjoy it. After all, you have to pick your battles, and my gun makes it pretty easy to figure out which ones I can win. She's a lovely gun. Big, which is fine with me, because I need all the power she can muster. Nine custom rounds rotate through, each enchanted by my own self. Not as effective as a professional enchantment, but I get by, and it’s a hell of a lot cheaper.
The only light came from the muzzle flare of my pistol. They smothered my campfire long ago, leaving me with only the vaguest sense of where they were, occasionally silhouetted against the trees when I fired. They were big, looming over me, high into the crooked trees and the moonless sky behind them. Who could say how long tonight would last?
I try not to cast on Nights, because it just acts like more of a beacon than I already am, but sometimes it just can’t be helped. My chest burned as I threw up a Buffer against a sudden wave of creatures, but they tore it down before it hardly had time to help. I bit down and cast a Warding, felt my arm burn harshly in the wild energy of the new moon and felt the following cold cut its way through my flesh and deep into my bones. Popping the spent rounds out with my right hand, my left knitted itself into the Ward shape automatically, trained by years of habit. Now I’ve really done it, I thought, because I could practically sense them perk up from miles off, even without casting a Seeing. It worked, though, and I was given brief respite for my efforts. I’d sure as hell pay for it in about 10 minutes, but for now I needed to stop bleeding and deal with the sensation of a drill pressed to the back of my skull.
“Skippers,” I growled. I hated Skippers.
The problem with Skippers is they’re small, harder to notice than anything else, and instead of trying to take off your head they try to get into your head. From there they can do whatever they want while you watch- make you walk off a cliff, bite off your own tongue, flay yourself alive. Like I said, whatever they want, and they're usually pretty mean. I’d seen them really go to work on all sorts of people, mostly people I knew and trained with. Hazards of the job- sorcerous training let you see a whole new world, but it opened you up to the threats that lived there, more so than regular folk. I was in worse shape than most sorcerers, which was part of what put me out at Night in the first place. Luckily, I’m better than most sorcerers, but it still meant I had to be careful.
To get rid of a Skipper, all you have to do is burn them off with a little Light. I'd needed the break- 3 of them dripped out of me right away, and a fourth started to run down my back as it tried to escape.
“Bastard.” I struck it with the handle of the gun as it slithered away. No sense wasting ammo on idiots like that.
The Ward wavered, the Night grew around me, and I hadn't even had time to heal anything. Damn.



Sam watched from behind the counter as the man walked through the door. Under the door, rather, as he had to duck to keep from hitting his head. He was pale, very pale, unlike the merchantfolk that usually came through the inn. His face was covered by a bushy beard, his hair was long, and his eyes were rimmed with red, but he could certainly be no older than 40. It was strange- for someone to come in so early in the morning, and look so tired- he must have been traveling all night, but he had no horse to be stabled.
The stranger was an armory- small blades and strange, bulbous jars jutted out from pockets and packs all over the man, daggers strapped to his legs, and even metal nubs in the knuckles of his gloves. What caught Sam's attention, though, was the man's huge gun, strapped tightly to his waist. He had never seen a gun that big, and the ammunition the man was carrying in the sacks around his waist must have weighed heavily on him, though he showed no signs of it.
“What does it cost for a room?” His voice did not match the tired, worn image in front of him. It was firm, and had the sound of recent laughter in it.
“Let me get my mom.” Sam began, starting for the back room. He never handled rooms.
“That's alright. You'll do fine. How much?” The man pulled out a purse, smaller than the other bags on his belt, and it was clearly much lighter than anything else he carried. “I’d like to find a bed and use it.” His voice did not betray him, nor did his hands, but the redness of his eyes did. They were a startling blue, and they seemed to contain nothing except exhaustion.
“I need your name,” Sam remembered as he directed the giant stranger to his room. The man's eyes, just for an instant, darted to one side before returning to Sam.
“Joan,” he said.
“O-kay.” Sam jotted the name down. “Two nights, food at 7 and 7, anything else you pay for.” He began to walk the man down the hall. “Strange accent. Are you from Melano, or Baden?” He didn’t really know what those accents sounded like, but he knew they were far from Newmark.
“No.” Joan walked into the room indicated with no further comments.
Sam stopped at the door while the man called Joan dropped his bags to the floor. “What kinda gun is that?”
“Mine,” he said simply, as he unbundled it’s holster from his belt. “I make the ammunition myself most of the time.”
“It's impressive. My paw was a soldier, and he showed me his old gun once, only it was a lot smaller than yours, and all rusted out besides, but-" Sam stopped as the man removed his cloak. There was a bright gash, still oozing dark blood, working its way up the man's side behind the thick leather plates. “Holy cripes! You oughta see a doctor, sor!”
Joan gave no indication that he could even feel the wound, nor did he instantly react when the boy cried out. “This? It looks a lot worse than it is. Rest, and solitude,” and here he looked at Sam, “will do me more good than any doctor from this town.” He moved to close the door, and against Sam's protest seemed to shut him out with no effort at all.
He ran down the hall to inform his mother of their newest guest.
I didn’t want the kid to see what I had to do next. It really wasn’t that bad- on the outside. Because we put so much ourselves in the spiritual world, the physical world didn’t matter so much. But it’s all tradeoffs. It had cut a pretty chunk out of me spirit-wise, and that hurt worse than any gash could. Really, I was better off than most sorcerers would’ve been with a cut like this- I had less to lose. Doesn’t make it hurt any less, though.
I Worked a minor Healing, but anything more would’ve taken more out of me than I could hope to regain, so the rest had to be resigned to sleep. Stupid. I should never have let anything get that close anyway, but it seemed like the Skippers were going crazy last Night.
I was too tired even to dream. A small blessing.

Waking up was not pleasant- I was stiff and sore, and still hurting something fierce. And cold, of course. Always cold. The physical wound had scabbed over, and I figured I would get away with just a minor scar. My innards were still shredded, but marginally less so than before, so I could breathe without grimacing. I expected I’d be laid out for a few days yet. Lucky, since Night had just passed, so things would be calm for almost the entire month now.
Exhausted as I had been, I had no Wards up, nothing even blocking the door. Nice going. Practically begging for a stray to wander in and eat you. As I flipped the coin I’d lifted off the kid, I examined the room for anything that might have snuck in, but it was clear. This time.
It was around this point that I realized how hungry I was. It had been (what felt like) days without a hot meal, and apparently this podunk little inn could provide, so I wandered out to the main room to see if I could scare up some food.
When the kid saw me, his eyes widened. That’s never a good sign. Recognition meant questions, and the answers to those questions usually meant getting pushed to the next town before I had time to heal. I had been hoping to score a decent meal and a bath, at least.



Sam could hardly believe his eyes. “Criminy, sor, but I didn’t expect you to be up at all! It's barely been a day!” The cut had been bleeding heavily, and very deep, he was sure of it, but now the man was clean and walking as if he had never been injured.
The stranger called Joan sat heavily at a table, ignoring the implied question. “Any chance of a man getting some food around here?” He inquired. “Or, perhaps,” and he glanced at the barrels of ale behind the counter, “some drink?”
San quickly filled him a tankard and plate from supper earlier, then sat himself at the table, as the crowd in the room dwindled down to a late few. The man interested him. He did not seem to interest the man, however, as Joan simply ate and drank in silence, apparently unbothered by his wound. He was still pale, almost deathly so, but Sam had heard tell of people from far north being much lighter than the tanned workers of nearby towns.
“Are you a soldier?” Sam didn’t know much about the war to the south, but occasionally troops passed through, and he had heard his ma talk in the back room about an extra levy because the Northern Kingdoms were allied. “I never saw someone carry so many weapons that weren't a soldier. What are those jars you carry? Is that them new bombs they been talking about? With gunpowder, only you throw the jar so it’s like a cannonshot?” Sam did not know much about weapons, either, but he saw so few soldiers come through that he had to learn what he could, if he was going to join the war when he was of age.
“Sure, kid.” Joan tapped his empty tankard on the table and placed down the coin he had been flipping. Sam ran to fill it up again before sitting back down.
“So did you come from the southern border, where all the fights are? What's happening? Are we winning? We have all kinds of the Northern Kingdoms working together, right? We must be winning!”
“The southern border? No, no, I didn’t come from the southern border,” he snorted. “That whole war is just nonsense anyway. The Northern Kingdoms, in some alliance or another, have had it out for Onis since time began. Maybe even before. The war is just an excuse to keep the money rolling in. Seems like there’s less and less of it than ever.” He mumbled this last part into his cup.
“That’s- that’s not true!” Sam's pa had fought, same as Sam would. “The war is important! Onis could really invade anytime! Besides, you said you were a soldier. If you aren’t fighting in the war, how can you be a soldier?” Joan did not answer, but he reached for his sleeve for a moment as if to roll it up, then seemed to catch himself at the last second. Was he a deserter? “Are you a deserter?” Sam blurted out, realizing a second late that he was pushing his luck. Joan just tapped his mug again.
Sam's ma hurried over. “So sorry for this one, sor, he has a bad habit of being curious.” She cuffed him on the ear and it smarted.
“It's no problem, mam.” The stranger smiled warmly, but in his eyes there was nothing. It was a chilling sensation. “He fills my cup just fine.” His ma dragged him off before Sam could object, and Joan got up before Sam could return.


Broder laughed as he took Flander for another hand. Three hands up, he was, and showed no signs of slowing. He stopped, though, as a big man in a heavy cloak came to the table.
“Deal me in?” His voice, deep and rich, did not match the weathered exterior. The man was no farm hand, that much was clear. More a mercenary sort. Broder glanced around the table, but no one seemed to object outright, so he shrugged. One more fool for the best poker man in the west side of Newmark. “Promise I know the rules.”
“Can you make ante, pal?” Jaten sized him up from across the table, suspicious from the long, ratty hair sitting on his shoulders and the general sense of dirtiness emanating from the man. He didn't notice what Broder had seen- nice leather, warm coat, and firm shoes. The man had some money, at least.
“He's good for it, Jaten. What's your name, stranger?” Broder gestured at the empty space next to him as he began to deal the hands. The stranger threw his ante, and Broder couldn’t hear much left in the purse. The poor ones were easy to sucker in.
“Joan.”
“You from Onis or something, name like that?” Cogen sneered.
“Na, man, listen to his voice, he's from up in Lansing or summat.” Garrett spat. “You're pickin a fight so you don’t have to deal with your shite hand.”
“That's not true, mate! Maybe you ought to keep an eye on your own mess in front of ya!” Cogen threw in extra to compensate. They all knew each other, knew the tics and tells and habits, but this stranger would be interesting.
That was what Broder thought, but as they went round for a few hands, the stranger losing more than he won, it became clear he was just another sucker thinking he could smash the small town guys. He had seemed confident at first- smug, even- but Broder had moved in with a predatory efficiency and would not let up. He offered to buy a round for everyone, apparently hoping for mercy, or to dull them, but the man seemed to be getting a bit red in the nose much faster than the well-seasoned drinkers of the little town of Aren, where there was little else to do but work or drink, or play cards. Broder began to really work on Joan for everything he had left, preparing to take the man for anything he could offer. The game was boring, and Broder needed beer money, so he went to end the man entirely.
What Broder did not expect was for the man to turn his whole plan backwards by dropping a flush when he should’ve had nothing. That cleared the table pretty fast, and Broder noticed the man's nose was really not that red at all.
The hand was nonsense. He couldn't have won, couldn’t have had those cards. “Alright, pal, roll up your sleeves, eh? Just a friendly game, here, after all. No reason to stay all formal-like.” Broder saw the other men nod their approval.
“Are you sure? Isn’t it possible, just a little, that I might be better at the game than you?” Joan smirked, taunting the men.
“Roll those up in here or we'll roll em up for ya out back,” Cogen growled. He was the biggest, aside from the stranger himself, and had a knack for bar brawling.
“Alright. No need to get snippy that I beat you so bad.” Cogen almost stood, but Joan began to roll up his sleeves. Right, then left.
His left arm was covered up to the elbow in fresh burn scars- a bright, angry red. If Broder squinted, he could almost see fine lines tracing letters across the harshly burned skin, but he didn’t have to. He knew what he was looking at.
“You're a bloody wizard, ye stupid bastard!” Garrett exploded. “Ye- ye bastard! You used magic on our all heads, ye did!”
Joan's eyes darkened briefly, but he did not react.
“Garrett's got the right idea- who's to say you weren’t using magic trickery to win the game, eh? Seems like something your lot would do,” Jaten added smartly. “It seems only fair you give us back the money you stole.”
“In the interest of accuracy, I am a sorcerer. Wizards do not leave their little towers and their little books. Besides, if I had used any magic, why would I stop now?” The stranger pointed out. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just leave, or to make you forget you ever saw me?”
“Well- there are 4 of us! Maybe you couldn’t do us in all at once, eh?” Jaten shot back. There was a chorus of affirmation from the group. “Be honorable, man, just give us the money back.”
Joan rolled his sleeves down. “If I had wanted to,” he began quietly, gravel in his voice, “I could make you all give me your land, your wives, and your unborn sons and you wouldn’t even remember your names when I was done. I did not cheat,” he suddenly smiled. “You boys just suck at poker.”
“Now listen here, son,” Broder began. “You may be some wizard from up north-"
“East,” Joan interjected.
“You may be some fancy wizard from up north,” Broder continued, “but don’t think that means you can insult us small-town folk. We might not have your ‘education’ or what have you, but we know from poker.”
Joan sighed. “I am leaving town in two days. Leave me alone for those two days, and I will forget your names, faces, and the name of this backwater town you live in. I did not cheat you.” He looked each of them coldly in the eyes, and Broder saw that all the mirth and cheer that had been there earlier had been drained, replaced with nothingness. Not even hatred, or anger, but simply blank space. The stranger stood up with a groan, signaled for another round of drinks, and trudged to the back of the inn. None of the men followed.


I was lucky none of these farm hicks knew anything about casting, or else they’d have known I was bluffing. It didn’t seem like any of them could actually read my burns, because if they could’ve, they would’ve known I could only cast a couple Bindings, and that’s if I wasn’t hurting like hell.
What was most insulting, more than calling me a wizard, was that they thought I cheated to beat them at cards. I don’t need to cheat at cards. I had slipped a bit of coin out of their pockets as I brushed by, but that was hardly cheating. Just good, honest thievery. And to call me a wizard? I ought to burn down their houses anyway, just for that. I was cold just thinking about it.
Still, I had to accelerate my schedule and leave tonight. I hated to do it, but I needed to be three towns over by the time they decided to kick the shit out of me. Bastards.
Amidst my wrathful musings I became aware of a presence at the door.
It was that kid. What had he seen? I ran the scene over again and realized he had been watching the end from the table he had been cleaning. Sloppy. He'd tell everybody. I couldn’t kill a kid the way I would've those guys in front, and I didn’t want to besides. Kids have always had a hold on me, and it pissed me off. It wasn't like I could remember why. Besides, I didn’t exactly mind the town knowing; it just meant I’d have a tougher time sneaking out, and I was tired enough that it bugged me.
“Sor?” He nudged the door open, but not all the way, I noticed. “I saw your tattoo. What do they mean? My ma said not to ask, but those men seemed pretty upset out there. I asked them and they said you was a wizard, but I didn’t think they were real. Are you a wizard? Are those tattoos your clan or something?” He spoke fast, like he thought I would cut him off, or cut off his head. “What are you doing?”
I spoke carefully to mask my distaste for his questions. “I am not a wizard. Wizards hide in their towers and ask questions nobody is curious about.” I hoped the dismissal would be clear.
It was not.
“If you aren’t a wizard, what are you?”
“What I am right now, kid, is packing, and what I’m going to be in a minute is gone. Scram.” I looked around and realized that aside from the bags I could clip to my belt, I had nothing else with me. Damn.
“Well, whatever you are, sor, I know those marks mean you're bound to help people-" that wasn’t true “-and those men out there maybe won’t tell you, but I will! See, sor, we're in mighty need of a wizard these days, on account of a monster been stealing the livestock and trashing the lumber yards and-" he slowed his speech a bit, but before I could get a word in he continued- “and I think it took the Granlenses daughter, only cause they won’t tell anyone where she went but I haven’t seen her in town at all and she used to come help me with my chores some days and it’s been a long while, maybe a month or so. Anyway, nobody’ll believe me when I tell em, and I haven’t seen it exactly, but I’m sure there’s a monster!”
“Kid, you know not every stroke of bad luck is a monster, right?” People don’t believe in monsters or magic until it’s convenient for them, which means they know nothing about it, which means most of the time they’re just making up stories to get me killed or run off, or else they’re just plain dumb and attribute every case of rainy weather to a made up beast.
“I know that! I just know there’s a monster around here! Look, sor, I’ll help you find it even, and-"
“I charge for my services and I don’t take kids on field trips when I work. Are you going to pay me?” Most of the time, threat of payment was enough to deter all but the most determined, or most superstitious, folk.
“I bet if you kill it the whole town will pitch in! Please, sor, I just wanna help out, and it seems like you could fix us all up only nobody wants to ask.” He wasn’t lying, I could tell, but kids are always seeing things that aren’t there. On the other hand, sometimes kids are better at seeing what’s right in front of them.
And when it turned out to be nothing, it meant I had an excuse to stay an extra night without getting an attempted beating, probably.
“Alright, kid. Where was this monster last?” Hired by a kid who probably couldn’t even get on a horse on his own. If anyone caught wind of this, I’d never hear the end of it.

For context I have been commuting for the last 6 months (mostly winter) in Northern England so lots and lots of rain and cold temps.
My GF has a car and so do I we both own them outright. They are both over 15 years old and I just spent over £300 in the last 2 months on mine, plus today I’ve been told about an oil leak and the brakes being too spongey and unsafe. So more money. Plus my insurance renewal is due very soon.
My commute is 3.5 to 5 miles each way depending on route choice mostly decided by weather and time of day but it is quite hilly. I currently ride about 80-100 miles a week but this will drop slightly in winter.
My bicycle journey so far hasn’t exactly been cheap but £22 for a schwalbe marathon I can fit myself is a lot better than going to a tyre place plus I just had a new chain and cassette for under £50 and £50 to fit.
My biggest questions are 1. Is bicycling 100 miles a week actually cheap? Obviously it’s cheaper than a car but I estimate I’ll need around 3 chains a year and maybe 1 casette a year as well as discs and pads once a year etc all those consumables plus mechanic labour. Plus I’m mechanically rubbish despite many attempts with de railers I literally can’t do them.

1. How likely is it that I will get miserable with no car? Currently I’ve driven it once in the last 7 days only because I felt I “should” The cold weather and rain in winter can be really relentless and I wouldn’t want to end up feeling super stressed knowing I have no alternative. With that said my gf who I live with has a car so we could both start paying for that and half the cost of its upkeep. Just wondered if anyone has any experience or insights they’d like to share, thanks !

Fellow pellet heads, I am officially in analysis paralysis. My GMG Daniel Boone has 4 different failures (auger jam I cannot clear, motor shot, control board semi functional, igniter needs replacement.) I think it’s time for a new smoker.
I have specific criteria I am trying to meet. Namely:

• at least as much space as my Daniel Boone. Can be including upper rack. Largest cook I am likely to do is a brisket and two boneless turkey breasts.
• under $1000
• exterior ash clean out MUST
• reasonably weather proof. My DB took water in the pellet hopper even in a drizzle.
• insulated well enough for northern IL

Nice to haves are:

• Ideally would fit my GMG pizza oven
• functionality for heavier smoke flavor (under 200, wood basket, smoke boost). I already have a pellet tube so this is not a dealbreaker.

This does not have to last forever but I’d like to get at least 5 years out of it while I save up for a forever smoker. Here are the smokers I am considering:
Top 2 - Weber Searwood 600 - Camp Chef Woodwind 24
Others I have considered
-pit boss competition series 1600 - members mark 36 with smoke tray
Any RecTeq is a hard no, my wife despises the horns.
I have access to Costco and Sam’s memberships. Live near a Menards as well as the national chains. Please help me. I’d like to hear from folks that have actually used the grills. Other suggestions welcome, I don’t know what I don’t know. Thanks!

My daughter (age 12) has decided she wants to travel north. In the winter. We can get to either the yukon or yellowknife via direct flights. She wants to see the northern lights and enjoy (!) the winter weather. Which city is recommended? Either? I’d love to do the hot springs with her in the yukon but since they’re 19 plus (boo) no chance, so am leaning towards yellowknife. Anything we should consider? We’d probably rent a car.

Well, this is the final story I can think of for Naeriu. If there are any more situations you'd like to see him in, be sure to comment on them and I’ll see if I can’t work with them. I’ve been inspired by comments before, it can absolutely happen again.
The first story is here: Endure
The second story is here: Persist
And the thrid story's here: Strive
Being accepted is something everyone wants to be, but sometimes people can’t accept you for who you are. Sometimes, in the most heartbreaking cases, it’s someone you are close to.
Shout out to SpacePaladin15 for the universe.
Memory Transcription Subject: Naeriu, Kolshian Missionary
Date [Standardized Human Time]: January 11, 2150
I couldn’t help but feel nervous as I rode in the shuttle. Even if I knew I was safe here, I wasn’t scared of anything physically dangerous. This planet had gone mostly untouched by the wars that had plagued the outside universe, left alone orbiting an insignificant star in an unimportant location. The only thing useful in this solar system was the planet itself, an agro-world devoted to having as many high-yield farms as possible.
It was a beautiful marble from above, swirling vibrant colors painting the surface intricately. The polar oceans almost made it look like a tennis ball, funnily enough. I could even see some of the larger farms from above, large patches of brown, miscolored green, or any other number of colors broadcasting what vegetables were being grown.
Where there weren’t farms, there were prairies or small forests, the only refuge for any animal, predator or not, to avoid the ire of the farmers. Herbivores would ruin crops and carnivores would taint them, there was no winning against the farmers. However, in recent years, there has been an ecological comeback with the help of the Humans.
Forests were a little bit larger, pests were killed a little less ruthlessly, and the farmers' hatred toward Humans grew evermore. While they were not outright hostile, I could only be thankful I had not heard what they had said behind closed doors.
This planet, Toktkala, was once my home, but now it couldn’t feel any more strange to me. I could only pray for more strength for what I was about to face, being a supporter of Humans and an open believer of Christ was sure to have me ostracized by everyone. I had a feeling that there were only two refuges for me; the UN embassy, something that was never not swarmed with protesters, and my childhood home.
That was the reason my stomach felt like it was turned inside out, I had finally found the time to find my family again. It wasn’t difficult, they hadn’t moved away from the house, but I had broken all contact with them after the Battle of Earth. That was fourteen Earth years ago, fifteen on Toktkala. Fifteen years of no contact, left wondering the fate of their oldest son, I couldn’t fathom what that could have done to them. I wondered if they were even still together, after losing my little sister they were already stressed, losing me might have broken them. It made me feel guilty already, and I didn’t even know if it was true. Hopefully, they managed to stay together for my little brother, Bolop always deserved the best.
I wonder if he hated me, blaming me for our parents’ divorce. I wonder if he hated me for leaving for the military in the first place. I wonder what my parents will say, seeing their dead son on their doorstep.
The uncertainty ate away at me, but the only way to cure it was to face it, and I intend to face it head-on and with full honesty. I’ll take everything they throw at me on the chin and keep walking, relieved no matter the outcome.
The shuttle touched down in one of the very few spaceports built on the planet, all of which were humble in the worst way. Frequent traffic wasn’t a problem, so they had all been equipped with the bare necessities to be classified as a spaceport. Most were little more than a pad, a few administrative buildings, and a luggage check. The only one with any extra expense was located in the only city on the entire planet, on the complete opposite side of where I needed to be.
However, the underfunded port might have been a boon in the end, as it let me experience the rural air sooner. Nostalgia flooded my mind as the familiar scent reignited memories from my childhood. Running through fields with my mother, watching the sunset with my father, eating a home-cooked bowl of kotla on the porch, climbing the lone tree in the backyard when I was sad, swinging from it when I was happy, there were so many melancholic memories tied to this smell, and I would never get tired of them.
I gathered what little luggage I brought with me and waited for a bus to pick me up, mixed feelings caused me to stare off into the distance. It felt great to finally be back in the warm, welcoming, slightly humid air of Toktkala, but that just meant I was one step closer to facing my family. I wouldn’t and couldn’t back down, but that didn’t make me any less nervous.
“Feeling okay, deary? You look like you’re about to run away.”
I blinked as I turned to face the lady, slightly surprised that anyone would bother talking to me. She was an older Kolshian, decorated in old-timey jewelry and carrying an expensive-looking bag. I could tell from her thick accent that she was a Toktkala native, the people from her tended to take their time in everything, including speaking.
I accepted the distraction with a sigh, causing her to sit down and pay attention. “I’m fine, just nervous.”
“Aww, what for? I don’t know anyone who could be down in weather like this. Haven't had a nice day like this in a while.”
“Well, you see, I haven’t been home in a long time. Fifteen years, give or take.”
“Oh deary, that’s wonderful! I’m so glad you could finally make it home.”
“Yeah… I guess. It’s just, what has changed since I left. I haven’t said or heard a single word from my parents since the war, I don’t even know if they are still together. I-I know where they live, but that’s about all I know about my parents. What if they don’t recognize me? What if they hate me for leaving and not saying anything? And I’ve changed so much, I’m not sure they would even accept me for who I am now. I know I have to do this, I’m not backing down no matter what, but that doesn’t make me any less anxious.”
She was quiet for a long moment. “That is quite the predicament. Fifteen years is a long time to not speak with someone, but always remember, it is never too late to reconnect.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle and grab my cross. “Kinda like me and…”
“What was that deary?”
“Uh, nothing important. Now that I’ve given you my side, I think it’s only fair you give me yours.”
She shifted on the bench. “Oh well, there’s not much to say. Just going back to town after a visit off planet. A buyer was looking to buy some crops in bulk and I went out to meet him for some discussion. Really nice boy, almost as old as you.”
“Ma’am, I’m thirty-two.”
She waved a tentacle in chucked. “Well everyone is a boy when you are as old as me, deary.”
I let myself laugh. “Oh you can’t be that old, you barely look a day over sixty!”
She pressed a tentacle to her chest. “Well, I’m flattered. I guess there still are some gentlemen in this world.”
“Oh I think there are plenty, they just don’t get the chance to act like them.”
She tilted her head to the side. “That’s one way of looking at it.”
We fell into silence for a moment, but with no bus in sight, it would be better to keep talking. “If you don’t mind my asking, what kind of crops do you sell?”
She clicked her tongue. “Oh, all kinds, but I think the one you're asking about is the stuff I talked about earlier, am I right?”
I raised a tentacle as if I were surrendering, noticing a bus cresting over the horizon as I did. “You got me.”
“That was some dlut, you know the stuff. Tall stocks, bright purple, sweetish tasting fruit.”
I leaned back. “Ah, dlut. I bet that would be good in a kotla in this weather.”
“It sure would. I just can’t get over who I was selling to.”
I turned to face her head-on. “And that is?”
“A Human, can you believe that?”
I laughed. “You know? I can actually. I’m…”
I considered my wording carefully. I didn’t want to offend this nice old lady accidentally. After a brief pause, I found the right words. “I’m surprised that someone from Toktkala would even be willing to talk with them though, considering the popular sentiment.”
“Oh I know, and I think it’s just dreadful that those people get so much hatred. I’ll be honest, I was in the same wagon at the beginning, but I came around once they became the only people buying my products. After what was revealed about our history… well, I don’t think I need to tell you of all people how Kolshians were treated.”
“Trust me, I know. I just think it’s kind of ironic that Humans, people we all seemed hell-bent on making hate us, were the first to forgive.”
She sighed. “I just wish some of the other foolhardy people here could see that too. With any luck, your parents are like us.”
I nodded as the bus pulled to a stop. “Yeah, maybe. This was a nice chat, hope you have a wonderful day.”
She waved me off. “With a little luck, we’ll see each other again. Oh, what’s your name.”
I paused and pivoted before I stepped on the bus. “I’m Naeriu, and you are?”
“I’m Moelly. And I hope to see you too.”
I waved to her one final time as the bus accelerated away, feeling much better having talked with someone instead of just dwelling on my feelings. I felt more hopeful about my future now that the idea of my parents not hating Humans was rolling around in my head, it let me believe there was a chance my parents might not disown me. Dad was always supportive of me when I said I wanted to join, he had always had complete faith in the Federation, but Mom might be a little more lenient, even if she also held the Federation in high regard.
I wonder if they became the type to claim the Humans faked it all and Nikonus’ accidental confession was fabricated. There were a lot of those kinds of people still around to this day, almost twenty years after the war ended. I could only pray that they would realize the error in their ways and accept reality sooner rather than later.
I stared out of the window for a long time, passing the time by reliving every field, tree, and house that passed by the window. I couldn’t pull my eyes away even for a second, everything looked so familiar, but at the same time, just different enough to make it strange. Some things were out of place or missing, while others were just how I remember them. It was surreal to see how my childhood home had changed, and I could feel my anxiety bubbling back up just as we reached the stop I needed to get off at.
I tugged the suitcase behind me, thanking and tipping the bus driver as I left. He responded with a simple huff of acknowledgment before driving off. I watched him for only a moment before turning around.
At the end of a long driveway, standing just as tall as I remember it, flanked on both sides by fields of budding crops, was my childhood home. Vines crawled up one side of the house, a decoration that Mom refused to cut down despite Dad’s objections. There was an ever-so-slightly rusted shed peeking out from the back, inside should be all of the farming equipment used to control the drones and irrigation systems. Even further behind that, there was a tall, lonely-looking tree with a small swing hanging from one of its sturdy branches.
Everything looked the same, down to the plants on the window sill.
I decided I needed to pray one last time before I met my parents, silently mumbling to myself as I did. I asked God for the wisdom to know what to say, for the courage to face their questions, and for the strength to stand tall if they ridicule me for my path in life. I had prayed like this many times before, and I was surely going to continue praying after.
I finished the prayer with the sign of the cross and a gentle kiss on the cross around my neck as I reached the porch, looking up with hesitation as I climbed the steps. I set my luggage aside and took a deep breath, staring at the doorbell. Every question and wandering thought I had raced through my mind, causing me to stand stunned for at least a minute until finally I shook them out of my head and pressed the button with all of my might.
A strange sense of release and simultaneous anxiety flooded me. There was no turning back now, even if I ran away they could still easily see me. All I could do now was stand here and face the music.
There was a commotion inside, some thumping going down the stairs, and a loud voice calling out. “Hold on, I’m coming.”
It was Mom’s voice. Even if it was muffled through the walls and slightly more hoarse than the last time I heard it, it was still Mom’s. The first of the doors was opened, but Mom hadn’t seen me through the glass one yet. She was looking off to the side, setting something on the side table as she spoke.
“I’m sorry it took so long, Bullo, I was in the middle of making a meal.”
She reached up and began opening the glass door, only to stop in her tracks as she finally saw me.
“Who…”
I could see the gears turning in her head, and the slow realization dawned upon her of just who I was. Tears began welling up in her eyes and her mouth hung open. With a quiet sob, she covered her mouth, trying to form any words. She could only cry and shake her head before stepping forward and hugging me warmly.
“I always knew…”
I returned the hug eagerly, rubbing the back of her head. I tried to find words to convey the flurry of emotions, but couldn’t. “I’m back, Mom.”
She pulled away for a second, wiping a final few tears in her eyes. Suddenly her demeanor changed from overwhelming joy to concern. “Where have you been? Oh, my little baby, where have you been?”
I sucked in a nervous breath. “On Earth, Sillis, Fahl, Skalga… I’ve been everywhere.”
I could see her freeze up for a second. “Then… then why didn’t you come back?”
“I… I felt like you wouldn’t accept me. And every day I didn’t return, I felt like you would only grow to hate me.”
Mom stepped forward, caressing my face with a gentle touch. “Sweetie, I could never hate you. There is nothing you could ever do to make me hate you.”
“I… Thank you, Mom, you don’t know how much I needed to hear that.”
She stepped back and held the door open. “Of course, sweetie, now come inside. You have to tell me all about, well, everything that has happened to you, from the beginning. And while you are at it, I’ll finish making dinner. I bet you missed your mom’s kotla, didn’t you?”
I laughed as I tugged my luggage through the door. “More than you will ever know. Every other bowl I’ve had has left me wanting something more, but I know that the only place I could find it was here.”
Mom laughed as she pulled out a few plates. “Love, a mother’s specialty. Is that the reason you came back, just for some food?”
I sat at the dinner table, taking in the house around me. It would be considered old-timey by modern standards, though that just meant that not everything was super high-tech. There were still rustic aspects to my house, pictures still in frames and not screens, religious symbols that have been passed down for generations, wood used over metal in some places, and rustic pieces of tech that my father refused to change, claiming that it would outlast all of us. It was old, slightly musky, and it was home.
“That’s not the only reason, it’s more like a bonus. I just kept thinking about home, how I effectively abandoned you, and I needed to come back to give you closure. Thoughts of home would pop into my head at the most random times, like signs that I should come back, so I followed.”
Mom turned around from the stove, setting down a steaming pot on the counter before sitting next to me. “Well, I am certainly glad you decided to do so. Your father and I have both been torn up by what we thought was your death, having you here now is a blessing for us both.”
“Speaking of, where is Dad?”
Mom waved a tentacle. “Oh, he’s off protesting at the embassy again. At his age, he should be staying home and watching the field, but he’s a stubborn oaf and when he’s determined to do something he does it, you know that. I told him to give it up and to come home, but he resents the Humans and won't rest ‘till they are off this planet, maybe not even then.”
I closed my eyes for a moment and looked away. This was the worst outcome. Not only did Dad not like the Humans, it sounded like he outright hated them. I’m glad I prayed because I had a feeling that a shouting match was on the horizon.
“Is something wrong?”
I sighed. “Well, we might have… conflicting opinions on the Humans. I’m worried that we might fight.”
Mom sucked in a breath as if she was preparing a response, but it died in her throat before she could speak. She took a moment to recollect her thoughts, confusion growing in her eyes, before shaking her head.
“It’ll be fine. Your father loves you, no matter who you’ve become. You will always be his son, our son. There is nothing that can change that. I don’t know the experiences you've had, maybe I don’t want to know, but I know that you’re an adult now and can choose your own path, even if I don’t agree with it wholly.”
I grabbed Mom’s tentacle. “Thank you, Mom, you have no idea how much that means to me. I was so worried that you wouldn’t accept me, it was eating me alive. I just hope that Dad feels the same way. He is stubborn, you said it yourself.”
“I know he-”
The sound of the garage door opening cut Mom off and caused my nerves to flare up again. Through the walls, I could hear him shut the car door and stomp his way into the house. He had always been a heavy-stepper, but these seemed a little heavier than normal. Maybe he had just put on a little weight since I last saw him.
“Muola, I’m-”
Dad froze as he turned into the dining room, stopping suddenly as he saw me. He looked me up and down, putting the pieces together in his mind. He dropped a bag to the floor carelessly and took a half-step forward.
“Naeriu… you’re… you're alive!”
He rushed forward as fast as his old limbs could carry him, meeting me with a hug just as I stood from my seat. He rocked me back and forth, blubbering with joy and trying to bury his head in my chest.
“My son’s alive!”
He pulled himself back. “Where have you been? I thought…”
His breath hitched in his throat. “I thought you were dead.”
I held his tentacle with compassion. “I’m sorry, I was just so… I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, all that matters now is that you are back with us, safe and sound.”
We stared at each other for a moment before Dad couldn’t sit still any longer, almost jumping toward the table. “You have to tell me all about it. Start to finish. You must have some interesting stories for us, right? I mean, you were gone for fifteen years, there has to have been something interesting going on, right? You could start with the story of that necklace, it looks pretty interesting. Is it something from Sillis?”
I glanced down to the cross on my neck as I pulled out a chair for him, sitting back down in mine with a huff after I did. “Not quite. It’s a later story. Why don’t we start from the beginning, like you said?”
Dad flung a tentacle in excitement. “Sure, yeah, from the beginning.”
I took in a deep breath. “After my last call with you, the Battle of Earth started. There wasn’t much I could do with my training, so all I could do was watch and wait. I was scared, and I only got more scared when boarding alarms went off. After they captured the ship, we had to evacuate. With no other option, I had to get in a life pod with the Humans.”
Both Mom and Dad gasped. “That must have been horrible, sweetie, how did you get out?”
Dad shook his head. “That must have been a terrible experience. I couldn’t imagine being trapped in such a cramped space with those monsters. Muola is right, how did you get out?”
I brushed past the casual Human-hate and continued with my story. “I didn’t. We landed in the northern part of the planet and it was late fall. All you need to know is that it was very, very cold. We had to travel with the Humans to avoid freezing to death, clinging to the belief that maybe we would be handed off to an authority later on and not be eaten. In the end, that was the best choice I had ever made. We made it to a cabin, but not after losing two others, a Harchen named Tekt and a Krakotl named Kulilim. It was just me and Kotern.”
Mom gasped. “How is Kotern? You two seemed like such good friends.”
I didn’t respond immediately, letting Dad’s mind run wild. “Did… T-they ate him, didn’t they?”
I shook my head. “No, in fact, they never even hit us. For the next few days, all we did was talk with each other. Just Me, Kotern, the Humans, and a Venlil named Leenek that we had picked up along the way. We just sat and talked.”
I could see the confusion building on Dad’s face. “Were they threatening you?”
I shook my head again. “Only one, Billy, the leader. He was the only one to make any threats, but he never acted on it. He was just angry. Some never even spoke to me, a few had very deep conversations, but only one ever made threats. One, named Brandon, talked to me about God for a while, after I told him that he had probably lost his entire family.”
Dad tilted his head in confusion, but didn’t make any comments, letting me continue with my story. “One day, Kotern goes out to gather some wood. The Humans had rope so we tied it on to him, but he didn’t come back. They sent a soldier named Valya out to find him, and comforted me the entire time he was gone. Around an hour passes and Valya returns, but Kotern isn’t with him.”
Mom leaned forward, engrossed in the story. “So what happened?”
I sighed. “I hid away in a room for a while, depressed that I had lost my friend, when I heard a bunch of arguing. I come out to see what’s happening, and Kotern is there, standing in the middle of the room, waving a pistol around and screaming for them to give me back to him. There were a bunch of people with him, led by a captain named Suklal. They wanted the cabin for shelter, but it ended up in a gunfight. Kotern died first.”
Dad sunk his head in sadness. “He was such a nice boy, you two seemed to get along so well. It’s a shame the Humans did that to him.”
“It wasn’t the Humans. Suklal shot him in the head after Kotern wouldn’t fall back. The Humans only started shooting after Suklal shot first.”
I let out a deep sigh, remembering how everything played out right in front of me. Even now his death brings tears to my eyes, he was such a nice man, he had just been misguided by the horrible teachings of the Federation. Teachings that I knew my Mom and Dad still clung to.
Wanting something to take my mind off of his death, I looked over to Mom. “I think I want some kotla now.”
Mom let out a breath. “Of course sweetie, I was wondering when you would ask.”
Mom got up to get some dishes, but Dad kept staring at me with a growing look of concern and confusion. “Hey son, what’s your opinion on the Humans.”
The bowls in Mom’s hands clattered slightly as everyone froze. I was hoping that I would be able to ease Dad into my opinion, but it seemed he wanted to take the more direct approach. “Well, I’m going to be honest, I like them. In fact, I love them. I love them the same way that I love everyone else. I wouldn’t be here without them, I wouldn’t be the man I am here today without them. It was a Human who pulled me out of the gutter and gave me direction in life.”
Dad sunk his head slightly. “They got to my son…”
I raised a tentacle. “Now, Dad, they didn’t get me. I came to this decision on my own. I looked at all the facts and saw that they were just as sapient as everyone else. They feel empathy, sadness, and regret just like all of us, and not just watered-down versions.”
He closed his eyes and raised his head. “Son, it’s going to be fine, we'll get you some help a-and cure this brainwashing.”
“I’m not brainwashed, Dad, that doesn’t exist. I’m-”
I sighed. “I’m not being controlled by anyone, I’m still the same Naeriu, just older and with more experienced. I’ve been gone for fifteen years, I’m going to change a little, but I’m still me. I just want to come back and reconnect.”
Dad stuttered in his own breath. “But the Humans tried to kill you.”
“Only after we attacked them first. And I forgave them long ago. A-”
I cut myself off before I told Dad that I was a Christian, that might just send him over the edge. I’d have to save that for later, when he’s calmed down a little.
“Can we eat something before we get too into this, please?”
Mom set the bowls down, eagerly accepting the distraction. “Of course, the kotla should be finished setting now anyway.”
Mom reached over and grabbed a wooden ladle, scooping up hearty spoonfuls into the bowls before setting them in front of Dad and me. I could feel the warm steam hit my face, carrying the savory taste of the various vegetables with them. Among the healthy chunks, I could spot the purplish color of dlut floating, slightly lighter now that it had been boiled.
“It looks amazing Mom, I can’t wait to try it.”
But just as I raised my tentacle, I froze. I glanced at my father, who was watching me with concern, confusion, and a little bit of fear. “What’s wrong son?”
I had never eaten a meal without praying beforehand. Sure, I might have sped up a prayer if I was excruciatingly hungry or late for something, but I always found a way to include it. Dad would freak out if he found out about my faith, it would start a full-blown fight.
Should I skip this one time to avoid making a scene?
I blinked and shook my head, feeling disappointed in myself. No, I had never missed a prayer before now, and I wasn’t about to start. I am not ashamed of who I am, I am a Christian and I am proud of it. If that means that my father is going to fight with me, then so be it. I don’t care if he doesn’t accept me, I don’t need him to. I am a grown man, and even if the words he says hurt, I know that I am being true to myself and God.
I am not skipping my prayer.
Slowly, I raised my tentacle and tapped my forehead, before lowering it to my chest, then my left shoulder followed by my right. “Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ our Lord. Amen.”
I repeated the sign of the cross and closed my prayer, keeping my eyes closed for a moment before grabbing the spoon and taking a bite. “It tastes amazing, Mom.”
She was too confused to speak, but Dad wasn’t. “What was that?”
“A prayer.”
“To who?”
“Christ.”
Dad shared a glance with Mom. “I don’t recognize any god named Christ.”
“That is because He is from Christianity, a Human religion.”
Everyone went silent for a moment, the words I said still ringing in their ears. Mom’s confusion only deepened, while Dad’s turned to anger. “What?! You-You worship a Human god?”
“Yes, I worship God. I am a Christian, a believer in God the Father, God the Son, and God the Holy Spirit.”
Dad shook his head and laughed. “You’re not kidding… You really mean it. H-how?”
“I was at the lowest point in my entire life, Kotern had just died, I was alone on an alien planet, I was hungry, thirsty, tired, homeless, and broke. A Human named Ben brought me to a church, the St. Louis Cosmic Christian Church, and that’s where I found God. I opened myself up to Him, and I’ve never felt more safe in my entire life.”
Mom remained stunned, falling back into a seat while Dad stood up. “I-I don’t… I can’t believe this. I cannot accept this. You’re not my son. Naeriu would never… H-he’d never…”
Mom leaned forward. “Solue, calm down. Take a deep breath and-”
“I can’t calm down! Not after that reveal. My son worships Humans. My son…”
“No, Dad, I don’t worship Humans, I worship God.”
“A Human god! Who is a Human! I don’t know if this is better or worse than you coming out as a Linked Chains member, at least they don’t think predators are gods! What does your god call for, hmm? Killings? Blood sacrifices?”
“Dad, hold on, slow down and give me a chance.”
“No. I want you out of my house, now.”
Mom gasped. “Solue! That is our son.”
Dad didn’t even glance at Mom, ignoring the building tears in his eyes. “No, he’s not. He’s some freak trying to impersonate our son. I hate to tell you Muola, but our son died in that war, and he’s never coming back.”
His words sank into my heart, causing me to wince away and take a deep breath. With my eyes closed, barely holding back the tears, I set my spoon down and stood slowly from the table. “If that’s what you think, then I won’t bother you any longer. Mom, it was wonderful to have your food one last time. Dad, I’m sorry that you can’t accept the facts. I’m glad I could at least give you some closure, goodbye.”
I turned to gather what little luggage I had as Mom frantically jumped up from her seat. “Naeriu, wait! Just give us some time to talk, Solue and I are just confused, is all. Please, wait here, for me.”
I paused at the door and sighed. “Anything for you, Mom. I’ll be by the tree in the back.”
As soon as I closed the door behind me, I started to sob. Dad’s words had hurt me more than I imagined they would, twisting my insides around like he knew exactly what to say to hurt me the worst. I stumbled my way around the house, wiping tears away with each step. I could hear Mom and Dad arguing loudly through the wall, both of them screaming with each other over what to think about the situation, though the words were muffled enough that I couldn’t understand them. By the time I reached the tree, there was no hope of me catching a single word.
I wiped away a few final tears and looked up into the tree. The first thing I noticed was that the branch I had fallen from long ago had finally healed, however, it was fixed in a completely new direction. I can vividly remember when I fell from that branch and broke my leg. I had never seen my parents so worried in their entire lives. Dad must have broken every traffic law on the planet to get me as quickly as he could to a hospital. Mom told me that he couldn’t sit still while they were x-raying me, every second that passed felt like an eternity for him.
He cares for me, a lot, and that makes it difficult for him to accept that I’ve gone on my own path now. Of course, I’d be ecstatic to have him and Mom join me, but something told me that they wouldn’t be diverting from their generational ways. They were both rooted in the past, and the tradition that came with it, and that shaped their worldview to a rigid stance where everything stays the same. At least Mom was a little more accepting, though I knew she felt about the same as Dad did, she just didn’t vocalize it.
With a sigh, I slid against the tree, looking out over the fields as the sun set in the distance. It seemed as if my worst fears were coming true, they wouldn’t accept me for who I was. I had changed too much from the last time they had seen me, I might as well have been a new person to them.
After a long moment, Mom finally exited the house through the back door, closely followed by Dad. I stood with a huff as they approached, preparing myself for whatever they would say.
Mom spoke first. “Sweetie, uhm, we are sorry for the fight. It’s just, well, we have a hard time accepting what you say to be true.”
Mom paused for a moment and Dad picked up where she left off. “The last time we saw you, you were still just a boy, barely an adult, and you held… beliefs that aligned with ours.”
Mom glanced between Dad and me. “And now seeing you here in front of us, the age we were when we last saw you, with beliefs that completely go against everything we believed, that our religion taught…”
Dad sighed. “It’s a little much, son, and I’m… I’m sorry I… lashed out like that.”
I looked between them and stepped forward. “Mom, Dad, I don’t expect you to understand me, especially not on the first day of me being back, but just know that you accepting me means more than you will ever know. Thank you, and I love you, both of you.”
I embraced them both in a big group hug, rocking back and forth. Dad only hugged me for a brief moment before pulling away, but Mom clung to me for a long time. After she finally pulled away, she sniffled once more and wiped away a few final tears.
She laughed slightly and shook her head. “I just hope you can forgive us.”
I couldn’t help but melt at Mom’s concern. “Mom, Dad, you never even needed to ask. I forgave you as soon as the words were said. I love you both with all my heart, it will take more than harsh words to prevent me from forgiving you.”
I smiled. “Though, I wish I could have gotten some more kotla before it went cold.”
Dud huffed and turned around. “It should still be warm in the pot, but you better hurry.”
Mom and I watched him disappear into the house, not looking back to see if we were following him at all. Mom sighed before speaking. “He’ll come around, you know he will. He’s just principled. He has his way that he thinks is right and there is not a lot you can do to change that.”
I nodded. “I know that, but I’m sure he’ll be more accepting once he gives me a chance to explain what I believe in. And tell the rest of my story.”
“That will be nice to hear. I’d love to understand what you have been doing all of this time that prevented you from coming home.”
I opened my mouth to respond, only to realize something. “Oh! Now that I think about it, where is Bolop?”
Mom sighed. “He moved away, wanted to be free from Totkala’s chains, he said. Just like you, only he didn’t join the military, thankfully. Just moved away. Haven’t had much contact with him, as far as I know he’s on Fahl, but you know him. He can’t sit still to save his life, he might be all the way in Sivkit territory for all we know.”
“But you still have his info?”
“Yes, but with the time it takes for a message to reach him and the distance he has to travel to get to us…”
“I understand, but I’d still like to have it. I’d like to set up a meeting time sometime later.”
Mom stepped up the stairs to the back door, but paused when I didn’t follow her in. “Something wrong sweetie? The kotla is only going to get colder.”
“Nothing’s wrong, Mom, I just want a second to be alone. I’ll be right in.”
She nodded understandingly and slipped inside, leaving me alone to reflect. I turned around to face the sunset, taking a deep breath as it passed below the horizon slowly. My life had been completely turned around since I left home all those years ago. I became a soldier, attacked a planet, survived the freezing Alaska wilderness, lost my closest friend, and fell into a deep depression, even losing contact with my family. But it was anything but bad, from there I built my life back from nothing, found my faith in God, traveled all across the galaxy doing missionary work, met and talked with an Arxur, only to return home to my family finally. I’ve had some extreme ups and heart-wrenching downs, never knowing just what would happen next, but even now I don’t have any regrets.
Even when I’m being ridiculed for my faith or spat on for my species, I don’t regret a thing. I accept the challenges, uncertainty, and hate, even welcome it, because I know that I am living my best life.
I let out a content breath, smiled a warm smile, and turned to open the door, welcoming whatever would come next.

"I played major league baseball for parts of 10 years, and I played in the magnificent city of New York, and as a child in St. Croix that was beyond dreams. Yes, I am a happy man." -- Horace Clarke
The worst stretch of Yankee baseball since the Highlander days, the mid 60s to the mid 70s, is remembered by those who lived through it as the Horace Clarke Era. Unfairly or not, the bespectacled switch-hitting middle infielder from the U.S. Virgin Islands came to symbolize all that was wrong with the Yankees in those sad years.
Horace Meredith Clarke grew up on the island of St. Croix in the U.S. Virgin Islands. He was just the fifth player from the U.S. Virgin Islands to play in the majors, and the first Yankee. His father had grown up playing cricket, and because there were no youth baseball leagues on the island, young Horace played softball. He said he didn't see his first baseball game until around age 13, when he saw some U.S. Navy sailors playing.

“We were poor kids in St. Croix. We played on a field which was right on the ocean and had no fences. We couldn’t afford baseballs. So the coach made the lefthanded batters hit righthanded and the righthanded batters hit lefthanded. This was so they couldn’t hit the ball so far. It saved us from losing the baseballs in the ocean.”

Clarke was spotted by a Yankee scout in the Caribbean and assigned to the lowest run of the Yankee farm system -- the Kearney Yankees in Class D ball. Imagine being an 18-year-old kid from St. Croix in the Caribbean, and arriving in Kearney, Nebraska in the spring of 1958. The culture shock must have been overwhelming. Maybe not surprisingly, Clarke hit a disappointing .225/.322/.283 in 187 at-bats. He said the biggest adjustment wasn't the cold weather, but night games played under the lights, something he'd never done before.
The following year Horace was in the Florida State League, and he thrived in the warmer weather, hitting .293/.375/.366 in 571 at-bats. He also stole 34 bases that year. The year after that, he was back up north, playing for Fargo in the Northern League, and hit .307/.389/.369 in 537 at-bats. The following year was Amarillo in the Texas League, where he hit .300/.364/.429.
Then the next three years in the International League, where he hit .281/.345/.352 in 1,494 at-bats while playing shortstop and second base.
But despite Clarke's promise, he was blocked by Bobby Richardson. By the time Clarke had reached Triple-A at age 24 in 1963, the 27-year-old Richardson had already been a four-time All-Star, a two-time Gold Glove winner, and had won three World Series rings... plus the MVP for the 1960 World Series, the only time in baseball history a player for the losing team won the award!
But the Yankees knew Richardson was planning on retiring, so they kept Clarke waiting in the wings. He opened the year with the Toledo Mud Hens, then the Yankees' Triple-A team, and then after a month he finally got the call to the show.
Fifty-nine years ago today, on May 13, 1965, Clarke was sent up to the plate in the 7th inning as a pinch hitter to make his major league debut in a game the Yankees were losing, 4-1, to the Boston Red Sox in Fenway Park.
Clarke, facing Dave Morehead, beat out an infield single. It was a promising beginning. But, as if scripted to be symbolic of his career, Clarke's success was short-lived as the next batter bounced into a fielder's choice. Forced out at second base, Clarke watched the rest of the game from the dugout. The next day he'd get the start and go 0-for-4.
Hitting .250/.298/.269 at the end of June as a utility infielder, Clarke was sent back down to Toledo for two months to get more regular playing time. It helped. When he returned on September 3 -- coincidentally, also against the Red Sox -- he went 3-for-5 with an RBI. Overall that month, Clarke hit .273/.298/.327, and for the season, .262/.298/.299 in 115 plate appearances. But the Yankees, the reigning A.L. champions for the past five seasons, finished a shocking 77-85, all the way in sixth place.
That off-season, Phil Linz -- the harmonica playing utility infielder -- was traded to the Phillies, opening up a roster spot for Clarke. Richardson, though only 31, had told the Yankees he would retire at the end of the 1966 season, and the Yankees wanted him to mentor Clarke as his successor.
Clarke started just seven games over the first half, but a series of injuries forced him into regular service. Over the second half, he played almost every day, hitting .276/.334/.404 in 300 plate appearances. He was mostly used at shortstop, where his defense wasn't great, but in 16 games at second base he looked good enough that the Yankees were confident he could be a regular there. Yankee fans were no doubt a little sad when Richardson officially announced to the press on August 31 that it was his last season, but at least we knew who would be playing second base the following year.
Indeed, second base was the least of the Yankees' problems. New York finished dead last at 70-89 in 1966, the team's worst performance since 1925, as injuries fell Mickey Mantle, Roger Maris, Elston Howard, and Whitey Ford.
Entering 1967 as the starting second baseman, Clarke hit a solid .272/.321/.316 (94 OPS+) in 633 plate appearances while leading the league in fielding percentage, assists, and range factor as a second baseman. He also stole 21 bases in 25 tries, a second-best .840 SB%. His 3.7 bWAR that year was better than any season Richardson ever had -- his career high was 3.2 bWAR in 1962.
The following year, the Yankees finished 83-79 -- above .500 for the first time in four seasons -- but a whopping 34.5 games out. Clarke had one of the worst years of his career, hitting .230/.258/.254 (60 OPS+) as he played through injuries all year.
He rebounded in 1969 to .285/.339/.467 (101 OPS+), with 33 stolen bases. It was, statistically, the best season of his career (3.9 bWAR). But once again the Yankees were terrible -- 28.5 games out.
In 1970, Clarke again disappointed, hitting .251/.286/.309 (68 OPS+). The Yankees won 93 games that year, but it amounted to naught as the Orioles ran away with the pennant, going 108-54 to win it by 15 games. In fact, it was pretty much over by July, with the Yankees 7 games out at the All-Star break.
It was around this time that Yankee fans began focusing their frustration on Clarke. One New York sportswriter routinely referred to him as "Horrible Horace". Miscast as a leadoff man -- he had a career .308 OBP -- and criticized for "bailing out" on double plays, manager Ralph Houk years later offered a tepid defense of his second baseman:

“I know I got a lot of criticism for playing Horace Clarke as much as I did, but he was a lot better ballplayer than anyone gave him credit for. He did a lot of things good but nothing great, and that was his problem. Besides, I didn’t have anyone else.”

The lack of a replacement was certainly an issue. In 1971, there was talk in The Sporting News about a prospect named Fred Frazier being the heir apparent to Clarke at second base. That year, Frazier hit a disappointing .261/.316/.313 in Triple-A; the next year, .216/.302/.281. The year after that, he was in the Orioles organization. He never made it out of the minors.
In fact, Clarke was the only constant in the Yankee infield in the late 1960s and early 1970s. The Yankees during the, ahem, Horace Clarke Era had holes everywhere, with a revolving door at first base, third base, and shortstop. For five years, from 1967 to 1971, Clarke was the Opening Day starter at second base; during that same stretch, there were five different third basemen, five different third basemen, and three different shortstops. Between 1967 and 1973, he started 1,017 games at second base, or 90% of all Yankee games.
But that, explained Yankees PR man Marty Appel, was kind of the problem. "Fans especially didn’t like the second baseman, the beleaguered Horace Clarke, whose major flaw seemed to be longevity. It wasn’t his fault that no one better came along, and he was a better player than the fans gave him credit for. But because he was out there, year after year, he came to stand for this disappointing run by the club."

"I always did my best. I always played as hard as I could. I never was concerned about how the fans reacted to me." -- Horace Clarke

The following year Clarke hit .250/.321/.318 in 696 plate appearances, but the Yankees again were out of it, finishing 82-80 in 1971.
Yankee fans had been miserable since 1965, but frustration with the team in general -- and Clarke in particular -- reached a boiling point in 1972. It had been seven years since the Yankees had been in the post-season, and 1972 was the first year the Yankees had the playoffs within our grasp since winning the pennant in 1964. (The "closest and latest" the Yankees had been since the 1965 season was 9 games out of 1st place on September 8, 1970.)
On September 12, 1972, the Yankees were a half-game out of 1st place at 74-64, with 17 games left to go in the season. The Red Sox were in 1st at 73-62, the Orioles tied with New York at 74-64, and the Tigers a half-game behind at 73-64. Over the rest of the season, the Yankees went a heartbreaking 5-12, while the Tigers won 13 out of 19 to win the A.L. East.
There was plenty of blame to go around for that collapse, but Yankee fans were particularly irate at Clarke, who hit .225/.267/.296 during those final 17 games.
To his credit, Clarke never complained about the boos from fans or the criticism in the press. As quoted by Dick Young in the New York Daily News in 1972:

"Sure, I would feel bad when I saw in the papers that, 'the Yankees can never win the pennant with that guy at second base.' But why get mad. I figure that's his opinion, and he's entitled to it. I must have been able to do something. Don't tell me a ballplayer can fool a manager for seven years."

Years later, Thurman Munson said his adversarial relationship with the media was based on how Horace Clarke was treated.
In 1973, the 34-year-old Clarke hit .263/.317/.308 (80 OPS+), his defense was no longer among the league leaders, and the Yankees were once again double-digit games behind by Labor Day.
It was finally time to move on. That off season, the Yankees acquired 23-year-old utility infielder Jim Mason from the Texas Rangers and installed him as the starting shortstop for the upcoming 1974 season; Gene Michael, the Yankees' on-again, off-again shortstop since 1968, was moved to second base; and Clarke to the bench. It wasn't exactly an earth-shattering move -- Mason was coming off a season in which he hit .206/.273/.290, and Michael .225/.270/.278. If anything, the two represented a substantial downgrade from Clarke's numbers. (By bWAR the previous season, Clarke was still the best option of the three, 0.6 compared to Mason's -0.7 and Michael's -0.9.)
After hitting .234/.294/.255 in 53 plate appearances as a pinch hitter and spot starter, on May 31, 1974, the Yankees finally ended the Horace Clarke Era by selling his contract to the San Diego Padres along with minor league pitcher Lowell Palmer for $25,000. At the time of the deal, Clarke was still the Yankees' best option at second base as Mason was hitting .214/.287/.307 and Michael a putrid .134/.224/.179!
Six weeks later, the Yankees tried to address their second base problem again by acquiring former All-Star Sandy Alomar from the Angels. Alomar, who fathered major leaguers Sandy Jr. and Roberto, played for the Yankees for the next two and a half seasons, hitting .248/.287/.302... again, worse than Horace's career average of .256/.308/.313.
And yet getting rid of Horace Clarke immediately turned around the Yankees' fortunes. With Horace, the Yankees were 23-27, the worst record in the American League; without him, a second-best 66-46. New York finished 89-73, just two games behind the Baltimore Orioles.
The Yankees finally found a solution to the second base problem on December 11, 1975, trading previously forgotten Yankee Doc Medich to the Pirates for Dock Ellis, Ken Brett, and a 20-year-old prospect named Willie Randolph.
Meanwhile, Clarke went to San Diego and hit .189/.255/.200 in 99 plate appearances. He was released at the end of the season and retired. He was a frequent attendee at Yankee Old Timers' Games, and promoted baseball in the U.S. Virgin Islands. He died at age 81 on August 5, 2020, from complications due to Alzheimer's disease.
The Clarke Side

• Horace's nickname was "Hoss". Yankee play-by-play man Bill White loved to draw out the "s" sound.
  
• Clarke had a reputation of being timid on double plays -- the team's pitchers thought he was apt to hold onto the ball and hop aside rather than try to get off a throw if it meant getting barreled over by the runner. (And in those days, runners came in hard -- just ask Willie Randolph!) Yankee pitchers complained to the press about it, and fans started watching for such plays. Any time the 175-pound Clarke didn't complete a double play, the boo birds came out. To be fair, despite his reputation as being afraid of contact, Clarke led the league in double plays turned as a second baseman in 1969 and again in 1971, and finished in the top five every year he was a regular.
  
• Clarke was the last Yankee to live within walking distance of Yankee Stadium, at the Grand Concourse Hotel. His commute to work was a three-block walk... which could be a problem sometimes. Sportswriter Dick Young reported Clarke had an awkward moment when a fan, "this kid, maybe 11 or 12," walked up and asked: "Hey Hoss, how come you can't make the double play?" Clarke replied: "Well, we can't all be stars. I guess I'm just a lousy ballplayer."
  
• Clarke had an unusual batting stance, a throwback to the Deadball Era. He stood with his legs far apart and he choked up high on the bat. Not surprisingly, he had just 27 home runs in 5,243 career plate appearances... but apparently all of them were of the over-the-fence variety.
  
• The first of those 27 home runs was a grand slam! It was off Floyd Weaver of the Cleveland Indians on September 21, 1965. The two-out grand slam in the 4th inning helped power the Yankees to a 9-4 win.
  
• And Clarke's second career home run? Another grand slam! It came on July 16, 1966. Clarke came up with the bases loaded and one out in the top of the 10th of a 5-5 game. Clarke crushed Jack Aker's offering to deep right to clear the bases and give the Yankees a 9-5 lead; Pedro Ramos pitched a perfect 9th to preserve the victory. Whitey Ford, who had entered the game in the 9th inning in relief, got the win. Clarke's first and second home runs were the only grand slams of his career!
  
• Aker was later Clarke's teammate with the Yankees from 1969 to 1972, and the sinkerballing reliever was one of the pitchers who criticized Horace about bailing out on double plays.
  
• Long before John Olerud made it cool, Horace sometimes wore a batting helmet while playing the field. He never explained why; some speculated it was because he'd once been hit in the head by a thrown ball.
  
• Clarke said he grew up listening to Yankee games on the radio, and Phil Rizzuto -- a similarly undersized infielder -- was his favorite player. Horace was 11 years old when the Scooter won the A.L. MVP in 1950.
  
• Mickey Mantle, his knees shot, moved to first base for the final two years of his career. Clarke, the regular second baseman both of those seasons, said that Mantle told him to get every ball he could. Horace led the league in range factor as a second baseman both of those seasons.
  
• The Sporting News reported on March 14, 1970, that Clarke had a "novel twist" during salary negotiations for the upcoming 1970 season. He told the Yankees he'd take less money in salary if they helped him secure a $1 million loan for a construction project in the Virgin Islands. Sportswriter Dick Young speculated: "It's a very simple gimmick. First you get the Yankees to lend you $1 million for an investment. You bank it at seven percent. That brings in $70,000 a year. Then you negotiate your contract with the independent feeling that you don't have to play baseball for a living." Clarke and the Yankees eventually agreed on a more conventional contract at $32,000 -- and no loan.
  
• Check out Horace Clarke's leadoff single on Opening Day in 1970, called by Phil Rizzuto! #23 playing first base for the Yankees is not Don Mattingly, but previously forgotten Yankee John Ellis.
  
• Clarke set the major league career record -- since tied by Joe Mauer -- of most no-hitters broken up in the 9th inning. Both players did it three times in their career... but Clarke did it three times in the same season! He had 9th inning singles to break up no-no's by Kansas City's Jim Rooker on June 4, 1970, Boston's Sonny Siebert on June 19, 1970, and Detroit's Joe Niekro on July 2, 1970. No other hitter has broken up more than two no-hitters in the 9th inning in his career, according to the book Baseball's No-Hit Wonders by Dirk Lammers, but Clarke amazingly did it three times in 24 games spread over 28 days. Mauer's 9th inning heartbreakers came over a six-year stretch.
  
• Clarke went 5-for-6 with an RBI in the second game of a doubleheader on April 19, 1970 -- and had 11 other games where he had four hits. In terms of fantasy scoring, his best day was either May 21, 1969, when he went 4-for-6 with three runs scored and three stolen bases, or July 22, 1971, when he was 4-for-5 with three runs scored and three RBIs.
  
• Clarke was involved in one of the most surreal moments of baseball history on the final day of the 1971 season. The Yankees were playing the Washington Senators -- not the original Senators, who had moved to Minnesota to become the Twins in 1961, but the expansion team founded that same year to replace them. Rangers owner Bob Short, who had bought the team three years earlier, announced he was moving the team to Arlington, Texas, to become the Rangers. (Coincidentally, in 1957, Short had bought the Minneapolis Lakers and, three years later, moved them to Los Angeles.) The final home game of the Senators at RFK Stadium in Washington, D.C., was on September 30, 1971 against the Yankees. The game was tied, 5-5, but the soon-to-be Rangers scored a pair in the bottom of the 8th to take a 7-5 lead. In the top of the 9th, Felipe Alou and Bobby Murcer grounded out to bring up Horace Clarke. Before he could get to the plate, however, a fan ran onto the field and pulled up first base, prompting hundreds more fans to run onto the field in search of their own souvenirs. Clarke and the Senators ran off the field and the umpires called it a forfeit in favor of the Yankees.
  
• Horace wore #20 all 10 seasons he was with the Yankees. It was never a particularly popular number before him, as the only player who wore it more than a few seasons was Tiny Bonham (1940-1946). Bucky Dent wore #20 from 1977 to 1982, and previously forgotten Yankee Bobby Meacham from 1983 to 1988. Another previously forgotten Yankee, Mike Stanley, wore it from 1992 to 1995, then Jorge Posada had it until Stanley returned in 1997 and reclaimed it. After Stanley left the Yankees, he asked Posada to take it back, saying that number should belong to a catcher. And now it always will, as it was retired for Posada in 2015.
  
• His obituary in The New York Times noted that among major leaguers from the Virgin Islands -- "a relatively small roster" -- Clarke still holds the records for games played, hits, runs, RBIs, and stolen bases.
  
• After he retired, Clarke helped promote youth baseball in the U.S. Virgin Islands. One of the players he mentored was Jerry Browne, who played 10 years in the majors between 1986 and 1995 with the Rangers, Indians, A's, and Marlins. In his SABR biography, Browne credits Clarke with teaching him baseball fundamentals.
  
• According to the book Where Have All Our Yankees Gone? by Brian Jensen, Clarke played a uniquely Caribbean instrument called "the vibes." "The vibes is like a xylophone, marimba-related type sound. It's a keyboard-type related instrument." Clarke said he played the instrument during his Yankee days, but -- unlike Bernie Williams, who frequently strummed on his guitar in the clubhouse -- only during the off-season. "When I was with the Yankees, ya know, the instrument that I had, the vibes, I was doing it, ya know, but never in the clubhouse, though. Once you are in the clubhouse, it is all work, ya know. That was never so much allowed. I had the instrument all the years that I was a Yankee but I was involved with baseball. That was my full time and I didn't have full time to play music but, ya know, in the off-season I would have a vibe and try to learn a song by hearing from a tape or a record and that's what it was." After retiring, Clarke played the instrument with a local band called Out of Nowhere.
  
• Of the 15 major leaguers to have been born in the U.S. Virgin Islands, the only other Yankee was Elrod Hendricks, a backup catcher for the Bombers from 1976 to 1977. Jabari Blash, born in St. Thomas, gets an honorable mention for the three months he spent as a Yankee during the 2017-2018 off-season. Blash was acquired from the Padres for Chase Headley on December 12, then traded to the Angels for a PTBNL or cash considerations. I guess we got the cash, because apparently no player was ever named.
  
• There's a Horace Clarke High School in Jamaica, but it's not named after the Yankee. It's named after the Horace Clarke who was a member of parliament in Jamaica from 1972 to 2002.
  
• Also not him: Horace Clarke, a teenager shot and seriously wounded by a Blackfeet Indian named Owl Child on August 17, 1869. Clarke's father, Malcolm, was killed in the same attack, which was purportedly revenge for Malcolm Clarke having attacked him two years earlier... which Malcolm claimed he'd done because Owl Child had stolen horses from him... which Owl Child said he'd done in revenge for yet an earlier dispute. The pursuit of Owl Child resulted in a massacre of at least 170 people, mostly elderly men, women, and children. As for Owl Child, he escaped to Canada and was never seen again.
  

"I remember the first game I played in Yankee Stadium in 1965. There were more than 40,000 people in the stands. I had just come from my country where there are 30,000 people in the entire country. That was some adjustment." -- Horace Clarke

Overall, Horace Clarke hit .257/.309/.315 in 5,144 plate appearances as a Yankee. His numbers aren't quite as bad as they appear, as he played during one of the lowest offense eras since deadball... an 84 OPS+. That ranks him ahead of fondly-remembered Yankees like Shelley Duncan (81 OPS+), Rick Cerone (80 OPS+), Miguel Cairo (80 OPS+), Bucky Dent (72 OPS+), and... Bobby Richardson (77 OPS+). And while many complained about his defense, his defensive metrics -- such as we have for his era -- indicate he was at least an average defender. He led the league in range factor three times, in fielding percentage once, in assists six times, and in double plays twice.
People tend to think about Clarke -- if they think about him at all -- as either a terrible player, representative of the teams he played on, or a good player who was wasted on bad teams. The truth is somewhere in the middle. As sportswriter Maury Allen said, he was "an average big-leaguer on below-average Yankee teams."
And in fact, Clarke's 16.0 career bWAR as a Yankee is twice as much value as the player he replaced, Bobby Richardson (8.0 bWAR). But Richardson was a fan favorite, while Clarke was scorned. But of course... Richardson won three rings. And Yankee fans love a winner!

"New York is New York. You don’t win, you’re going to hear about it. I was in the middle." -- Horace Clarke

Had Clarke come along a few years earlier and been part of the early 1960s dynasty, he might be remembered fondly as a scrappy infielder, a Tony Kubek or a Bucky Dent or a Scott Brosius -- a good but not great player who had some memorable moments.
Instead, Horace Clarke defines an era of futility.

The area known as "the Rift" is one of Skyrim's nine Holds, and one of the primary agricultural regions in the northern province, alongside the White River valley, the plains of Whiterun, and the Aalto. However, the goods commonly produced in the Rift differ greatly from those of the other regions.
Where the White River valley and Whiterun's plains produce large, bulky staple crops - rye, barley, wheat, cabbages, various meats, cheeses and the like - the Rift instead tends to produce higher-value, more specialized crops. In this regard, it is similar to the vineyards of the Aalto, though certainly much more productive. This is in large part due to the isolation of the Rift from the rest of Skyrim - and indeed, the rest of Tamriel - situated as it is on top of a large plateau, with poor river access. All goods must be transported overland, a strenuous and time-consuming undertaking.
The Rift is the only place in Skyrim where the southern crop known as "corn" may be grown, benefitting from the warmer weather and longer growing season. (Attempts to cultivate corn in the Ilinalta Highlands are ongoing.) Apple orchards, for the production of both apples and cider, are a common sight in the Rift, as well as specialized herb gardens for alchemical ingredients and beehives for honey and mead. The production of these high-value, small-size goods allows for a lively, profitable export business from the Rift.
The rivers and lakes of the Rift produce a bounty of fish, allowing for the development of a distinct, widespread fishing culture not found elsewhere in Skyrim excepting the north coast. Farmers and herders in the Rift keep sheep, goats and cattle for dairying, draught, and meat, with pastures scattered around the hills and forests. These animals tend to be of different stock than those found in the lowlands, perhaps derived from earlier breeds brought from Atmora long ago.