Char grill oil less fryer

Best Air Fryer Reviews for Hot Air (Oil-less) Cooking

2018.05.29 11:43 PaperLeafCA Best Air Fryer Reviews for Hot Air (Oil-less) Cooking

Which is the best model at the most affordable price? Read our Reviews & Comparison for the best deep fryers and choose the optimal variant for you. Have a look at the best air fryer consumer reports, make a comparison of the products and prices, and select the one that fits you.

2013.03.05 02:12 Vailhem Syngas

A reddit dedicated to syngas production and conversion. Approaches, advancements, conversations, articles, etc. All civil discussions about this aren't just welcome but are wanted.

2023.03.21 22:04 David_the_Pavid Squeaky gun

I’ve noticed a squeak on my Glock every time I pull the slide. I’ve messed with others that didn’t have that. The gun isn’t even a month old and I think I have fired less than 500 rounds through it.
A guy on YouTube recommended oiling the recoil spring but I’ve also heard not to put any chemicals on it. I’ve cleaned and oiled the gun significantly and it still hasn’t gone away. Will it go away with time? Should I ignore it? Or should I oil it?
submitted by David_the_Pavid to Glocks [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 21:27 ripple420 Advice sought to replace very old boiler/burner for heat and water in NYC area

[edits- typos/words] Seeking advice on a boiler replacement before I start digging into research- I am in the lower hudson valley, wood frame 1967 raised ranch with finished basement and additional family room off the dining room. Today the home is heated with hydronic baseboard: * 1967 Thatcher boiler with hot water coil (no tank!) * mid 80's low speed oil burner * 3 heating zones (1 main level and 1 addition on main level totaling 1700 sq ft, plus 1 finished basement of 500 sq ft) * 1 zone pump feeding all 3 zones * 500 gallon in-ground oil tank installed 1999
I have one through-the-wall AC unit in the center of the home and window units go in bedrooms/extension room for the summer months.
The biggest issue we face is hot water- the hot pressure in all faucets is crap (cold is fine) and I suspect it's the 55 year old coil clogged with scale/etc. So we have low-pressue showers which are warm at best because we can only mix in a little cold at the shower otherwise it's too cold due to the weak hot flow which isn't hot for long anyway- maybe a minute before its just warm.
The Thathcher boiler label says * 147k btu/hr gross * 132300 btu/hr [email protected]% * 110250 btu/hr [email protected]% it seems pretty efficient for our use, averaging 900 gallons of oil per year over 20+ years.
Should I consider mini splits as a replacement? I love the idea of having these units for heat and AC so I can ditch the window units, as well as no more oil. I could retire 4 ugly heavy drafty window units plus the one in the wall! I roughly figure I need 6 heads- 1 in the addition, 1 in the main room of the house, 3 bedrooms, 1 basement. My main concerns with such a system are up-front cost, running cost with electricity being high now, reliability of heat in below zero winters, reparability, and backup power required to use them.
I would still need a hot water source.
The backup power is less of a concern the past few years but with the 110v oil burner I can heat the home with my backup generator in the winter. I can also power the in-wall 110v AC to keep temps down in summer. I'd need a significant generator upgrade to power any splits for heat or ac or give up on backup for that. I could also leave the old beast in place as a backup system, only turning it on for heat when needed and even have the hot water coil removed. I mention reparability because I have become quite familiar with my simple old beast and have replaced many parts on my own over the years that are quite standard- transformer, fire control, zone valve heads, zone pump.
Space is also a concern if replacing with a boiler plus hot water source- the current area is a framed/sheetrocked room with bifold doors within the basement but it's very tight- 5.5 feet x 4 feet with 1 block wall where the stack vents to the chimney.
So, should I even consider mini splits? Or should I just stay with an oil burner and a hot water solution? If a boilewater solution, then what combo? Indirect fired storage tank? Direct fired? Electric? Tankless? What can I fit in that space with a boiler?
Please share your opinions/ideas/suggestions/experiences/pros/cons and other things I am not thinking of. Recommend reliable brands too, please if you can.
submitted by ripple420 to hvacadvice [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 21:22 Adomanzius We encountered something in the ocean that defies explanation.

We had been checking weather reports tirelessly for two weeks, until we finally found our spot. The following week should be nothing but sun and smooth winds, so we tentatively decided that to be our slot. Our small crew consisted of me and my friends Josie and Frank. Josie’s dad owned the boat (and he still needed to sign off on our plan), so we had to reserve it ahead of time, and make sure that we got it back in pristine condition, on the dot, and preferably with a nice coating of wax or whatever they use to make boats shine like candied apples.
Monday arrived and the weather was still solid, and Josie’s dad had reluctantly signed off on our plan, so we decided not to wait any longer and take it out the next day. The idea was to have a two day mini-cruise; just us hanging out on the boat and maybe docking it for the night at a nearby town. Although Josie’s dad was a hardass, he had taught her how to drive and maintain the boat since she was a kid, so really, the worst thing that could happen is that we wouldn’t have enough snacks.
Me and Frank met at the parking lot, and saw Josie standing on the boat at the end of the dock. Her dad was with her, lecturing her about some winch or other, Josie rolling her eyes next to him, barely maintaining her attention.
“He really can’t leave her alone even for a couple days, can he?” Frank asked, keeping his voice low as we stepped on the long dock.
“Josie or the boat?”
Frank chuckled, then quickly returned his resting poker face as we reached the boat, Josie’s dad turning around as he heard the planks creaking under our feet.
Before he could say anything, Josie ran up from behind him and said “Hi boys! You brought the food and snacks and the five gallons of vodka, I assume?”
“Aye aye, Captain!” we replied in unison. It was Josie’s dad’s turn to roll his eyes.
“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” he said to Josie, starting to walk down the small ramp down to the dock. “And remember, two days, no more. I expect you to bring her back in one piece.”
“Sure thing, dad!” That was Josie’s way of saying yes, yes, yes, I get it already.
Josie’s dad gave us a stern look followed by a slight nod as he walked past us. He never really liked me or Frankie, a bunch of hooligans, as he’d once called us when we were kids. For the record, me and Frankie didn’t like the guy either, so at least the feeling was mutual.
After her dad was out of earshot, Josie yelled “Are you ready kids?!” putting on her damndest pirate voice.
“Aye Aye Cap-TAIN!” we screamed and sprinted up the ramp and into the boat.
After an exchange of hugs we unloaded our groceries into the mini-fridge below deck, then met up with Josie, who was already sitting inside the helm. “Ready to leave, crew?” she asked. “Let’s rock this boat,” Frank replied. The amount of bad jokes this early in the morning was surely a great indication for what the rest of the day held.
It wasn’t long until the shore behind us was gone, the tranquil open sea spreading out in all directions. Josie seemed to know where we were going, but at that point I could no longer discern what direction we had even come from.
Me and Frank sunbathed and joked around on the deck until Josie emerged from her cocoon-like cockpit. “Sorry to interrupt your hi-LARIOUS hijinks, but I’d propose we have some lunch soon.”
Like destiny, the word lunch produced a unified grumble from both me and Frank’s stomachs - the universal horn of yes please, food please, now please.
“We can stay here for a while, then we could start heading towards the town,” Josie said.
Feeling bad that she was doing all the heavy lifting, I asked her “You need any help? It’s your boat, and us your honored guests, so don’t be afraid to command us, cap’n!”
Please,” Josie replied, “when I get a chance to drive this boat, I take it. Dad’s been hogging it like crazy all summer. Besides, it’s not like you guys even know what half of the things on this boat are called, let alone what they’re used for.”
“Well, that’s the driver’s seat,” Frank said, pointing at the helm.
“That’s called a helm, my dear. Frank - you just earned yourself the honorary job of heating up our lunch.”
“This ain’t no Ford Prius, I see,” he replied as he got up and started to take lazy strides towards below deck.
“Toyota,” I said.
“Prius is Toyota. Not Ford. Come one, let’s go make lunch for the captain.” I got up to follow Frank, nodding approvingly to Josie.
We had cheap microwave meals for lunch, seeing as the boat didn’t have a stovetop or an oven. For some reason - maybe it was the soothing sounds of the ocean lazily slapping the boat, or the warm afternoon sun - the food defied its low expectations and tasted great.
Afterwards we had a little siesta where I almost fell asleep until Josie said “Shall I take course towards the town, then?”
Through a straw hat laid across his face, Frank mumbled “Aye aye.”
“You sure you don’t need any help?” I asked Josie one again, but she was already jumping into the helm, excited to get back at it. “You guys just take a chill, I’ll get us where we need to.”
As the motor’s soothing hum returned, I got myself a bag of chips and sat on the deck, watching the horizon. Frank still had the hat on his face, which either meant that he didn’t want to be bothered, or that he’d fallen asleep. Either way, I was happy to just sit under the sun as the boat slowly rolled towards our destination, cutting a line into the flaccid water behind us.
“Shit, Shit SHIT!” Josie screamed. I must’ve fallen asleep, and as I got up the half eaten bag of chips crushed under my foot.
“What, Josie? What’s wrong?”
“What’s going on?” Frank parroted as he stood up, the hat falling beside him.
“There’s a fucking storm coming,” Josie said as she frantically pressed buttons, her eyes darting across the dashboard of the helm.
I turned around and looked at the horizon. Dread filled me as I saw an infinitely wide wall of dark clouds spread across the sky, making contact with the water in a misty gray curtain. I noticed that the ocean was no longer level, for it was rippled with small waves that thumped the sides of the boat in eager anticipation.
“I thought it was supposed to be nothing but clear skies,” Frank said. He’d walked beside me, taking in the horror beyond the horizon.
“Ex-fucking-actly, Sherlock. It came out of fucking nowhere,” Josie snapped, holding the wheel tightly in her right hand as she fiddled something with her left.
“Okay, Josie, I know this might sound stupid, but bear with. Why are we going towards the storm?” I asked, trying to not seem disingenuous as I turned around to face her.
She gave a sigh, stopping what she was doing and looked me in the eyes. “That’s where the town is. It’s the closest place to dock right now, and the storm’s moving faster than any I’ve ever seen. If we go back it’ll catch up to us and we’re fucked. If we go through it, we’ll spend the least amount of time inside it, giving us at least a chance.”
“A chance at what?” Frankie asked.
“A chance at getting out of here.”
“Any port in a storm, I guess,” I said, trying to lighten the mood, to which Frank gave me a concerned look.
The air had turned cool, so I went and changed to warmer clothing, Frank doing the same. Coming back up to the deck, I saw that the storm had moved closer. A lot closer. Josie instructed us to put on life jackets and to stay below deck, not to come out unless she asked us to. We put on the puffy orange jackets and promptly hunkered down below deck. The increasing waves were already rocking the boat uneasily.
“Are we gonna die?” Frank asked, his voice whimpering as he looked up at me from the opposite bench.
Although the question had already burrowed itself into my mind as well, I replied “No, NO, man, we’re not gonna die. Like Josie said, it’s just a quick ride through and then we’re back on dry land,” hoping that my words held even a sliver of truth.
In a matter of minutes, the sky turned dark and the boat started jumping on waves, like a rollercoaster rapidly going up and down and up and down. The rain tore into the boat like a machine gun as thunder sounded from across the way, lightning flashing the sky white erratically. Frank’s lunch quickly escaped his stomach, coming out in an arc of brownish green vomit that splattered across my legs and the floor. I was too scared to care, and he was too frightened to apologize.
The storm kept getting worse, the waves becoming larger as evidenced by the deeper dives and longer ascensions. Water was constantly slamming the deck, some of it trickling down to our feet. Through the two small windows the cabin had, it was near impossible to know whether we were on top of the water or under it, or which way was up or down. Although the storm was loud, I could still hear Josie cursing and screaming as she battled the waves and tried to keep us afloat, which was the only indication that she hadn’t been swallowed into the depths below. Frank was sweating bullets, his face a pale white. I wasn’t doing much better either, the words it’s gonna be ok it’s gonna be ok repeating in my mind.
Slowly the storm started to ease up, the waves thinning out and the rain becoming only a slight patter. Neither Frank or me said anything, though, not wanting to jinx it before we were safely back on land. Soon, the boat’s rocking lessened severely, and I could see sunshine coming through the windows.
“Hey guys, you okay? You can come up now,” Josie yelled, her inflection hesitant but calm.
Frankie apologized for the vomit as we got up and made our way up the steps. Josie was standing at the front of the deck, tumbling through her soaking wet hair with her fingers.
“Ho-lee shit, did we just survive the fucking apocalypse?” Frank asked rhetorically, his eyes darting between me and Josie.
“Josie! You okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, yeah… I’m fine,” she replied, waving her hand like nothing abnormal had happened at all.
I walked up next to her and said “We got through it, didn’t we? Now just let’s get ourselves back on land, eh?”
“Yeah, well, that’s the problem.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, look,” she said, holding her hand out at the pale horizon, like she was presenting it on an invisible platter. “Where’s the town?”
“What do you mean where’s the town? We got through the storm, so shouldn’t we be able to get through to it now?”
“That’s the thing. It should be right in front of us.”
“Where’s the storm?” Frankie yelled from the back of the boat.
“What do you mean ‘where’s the storm?’ We just went through it” Josie yelled in annoyance, still peering at the horizon.
“For fuck’s sake, come here,” Frank replied.
Josie looked at me and rolled her eyes, then started walking towards Frank as she gave a long sigh. I followed tepidly behind her.
As we reached the back of the boat, I realized what Frank had meant. There was no storm, nor clouds, or even residual waves. “What the fuck,” I exclaimed under my breath, right as Josie started sprinting around the boat, looking in all directions, her head swiveling in frantic motions, her hair throwing beads of water around like a dog drying up after a swim. A minute later she joined us, panting, and said “It’s all just water. There’s nothing on any side. We’re in the middle of the fucking ocean, the storm’s gone, there’s nothing.”
“Shit, shit, shit…” Frank muttered as he started to tap his foot on the deck, holding himself in a tight hug as he shivered in his wet clothes.
I turned to Josie. “Well we shouldn’t be far off from something, right? It’s still day, and even with the storm we couldn’t have gone too far.”
I could see that Josie was tired. She looked like she had aged about ten years in the last twenty minutes. “Okay, okay, you’re right. Let me just check some things and figure out where to go.”
Josie left for the helm, leaving me and Frank to stare in silent horror at the lazy, blue ocean that seemed to stretch infinitely in all directions.
After a long minute Josie called to us “Guys… you better come check this out.”
She was staring intensely at the dashboard of the helm as we arrived.
“Okay, so good and bad news. Which first?”
“Good, please.” Frank replied, recovered from the worst of the shivers.
“Okay, so the good news is, uhh,” she began, still fiddling with controls as if to double check her suspicions “the boat seems to be in running condition. There’s no damage to anything that would prevent us from going forward.”
“So what’s the problem then?” I asked.
“Check your phones.”
“What?” me and Frank said in unison.
“Check if you have a signal, internet, anything.”
“Shit,” Frank said. “Yeah, mine too,” I replied as I looked at my phone and saw that there was absolutely no signal or internet.
“Yeah, I don’t have a signal either - just had to check. And it doesn’t stop there,” Josie said, “compasses, readings, all of that - it’s shot. I can’t navigate us anywhere, and I have no idea where we are.”
Frank started to freak out and walked towards the front of the boat, his wet shoes squishing as he stomped angrily. “Fuck, fuck, FUCK. What the fuck do we do?”
“Well, as I said, we can still move. The only question is where. I have a faint idea of where the sun was when we first headed out, and I suggest we try to mimic its movement back to the dock,” Josie said to me while keeping her eye on Frank.
Frank was now squatting on the deck, his hands gripping his neck as he stared down at his feet.
“That sounds smart. Then if we see the storm again, we can recalibrate. We should probably be hitting land at some point, right?” I said to Josie.
“That’s my logic, at least.”
“You with us Frank?” I asked, turning to him.
“Yeah, yeah. I guess that sounds smart,” he replied in a solemn voice under his breath.
“Need any help?” I asked Josie.
“Take care of Frank,” she said quietly. “The best thing we can do is stay calm.”
Josie revved up the engine and turned the boat around carefully as she mapped out our approximate direction, and then we left towards a horizon that was no different from the others, guided only by the sun’s approximate movements.
As Josie manned the wheel, me and Frank cleaned up below deck and dried our clothes. As we were finishing up, he said he’d stay below deck, as he needed some time to think.
Looking at the sun, the day was slowly turning to evening. It was summer, so we still had daylight for a few more hours. I went up to Josie to see how she was doing.
“Frank’s below. Said he needed some time to think. I don’t blame him - this is indeed a bit fucked up, isn’t it?”
“Logically, we should hit land at some point,” she replied, her eyes fixed on the horizon, her presence distant.
“How are you doing, Josie? You just pulled us through hell. I know you don’t need help with the boat, but I’m just saying -- I’m here if you wanna talk.”
Josie sighed and turned to me. “Thanks. I think right now what I need is to get us safely back home. Once we’re back you can buy me a beer and then we can talk.”
I nodded, and then turned my head to look at the horizon. Noticing something in the distance, I said “Josie, uhh, what’s that?”
She turned her head back to survey the ocean.
In the distance there were small, dark peaks rising from the ocean, like the tips of underwater mountains rising above the water. They’d appeared seemingly out of nowhere.
“I -- I don’t know. But I think we’re gonna see soon enough.”
I stayed with Josie as we approached the peaks. As we got closer, it was obvious that there was no land between them. Instead, they shot up from the water in thick spirals that tapered off the higher they reached. As we got closer we could finally realize their true size. Although some were smaller than others, most were the equivalent of tall office buildings, some reaching even higher. They spiraled and twisted in the air, arcing like blades of grass in the wind, and it seemed like they could fall down at any moment, but they did not move or shake in the slightest. There must have been twenty or so, and they all looked similar despite their differences in size; dark, mostly smooth yet also scratched, like charred meat on a grill.
“You have any idea what these are? They look like… trees or something, except they don’t have leaves or branches,” I said to Josie.
“Never seen anything like it. Must be some rock formations or something. Maybe there’s an underwater volcano that bursted lava out and it solidified -- I really don’t know. But those should only happen deeper in the ocean, far away from land.”
I heard Frank coming up the stairs. He looked better than he had before, his step lighter. Although I’d been afraid he’d been brooding, I guess having some time to think really did help.
As he saw the spiraling towers, his face turned into a twisted and confused half-frown as he said “What the fuck are those?”
“We don’t know,” I replied, “but it’s the only thing we’ve seen so far.”
Soon the closest spiral towered just a mere two hundred yards away, its wide shade casting upon the boat. From a distance it had been hard to decipher the dark structures, but upon closer inspection, it was clear that their anatomy was… abnormal. Stretches of surface material were mostly smooth, but all of the spirals seemed to have slight craters that were formed above the rest of the exterior. It looked like they had been bombarded by meteors of differing sizes, although even if this had been the case, how had they not been immediately broken, I do not know. They were beyond any logic I could muster.
“So, anyone know what we’re looking at?” Josie askied, surprising both me and Frank - she was usually the one to know things, us just tagging along for the ride.
“No clue, captain,” replied Frank as he stared upwards in dismay at the towering spiral.
“Still no,” I said.
Suddenly the boat’s end shot up, followed by the front, ascending us a good ten yards in mere seconds. Frank and I were knocked down on the deck, but Josie managed to hold onto the walls surrounding the helm. The boat kept rocking as waves hit us from behind. I slowly stood up with my knees bent for support, and went to help out Frank who was still laying on the deck, his eyes wide in panic.
Once I’d gotten Frank up, Josie had already managed to make her way to the back of the boat. We held onto the railings along the boat’s edge and walked as fast as we could through the oceanic turbulence to catch up with her. Once I saw what had produced those waves, I wanted to get back to land more than I ever had before.
In the distance tens more of the spirals had emerged from the ocean, some even larger than the ones we’d seen. They dripped with water, and some were covered in green algae. Somehow they’d been quiet, merely disturbing the water as they’d shot up.
“We need to move! One of those things could shoot up under the boat and sink the whole fucking thing!” Josie screamed, running back inside the helm as the waves slowly calmed down and became smaller. I leaned on the railing to see if there was something underneath us - not that there was much I could do, even if I saw a gigantic spiral shooting up from the depths.
The water beneath the surface was unmoving, holding an abyssal darkness. It seemed as if the light penetrated less than it had before, and what was deep below was nothing but pitch black shadowlands.
Just as I was about to disembark and head towards Josie, something moved in the water. I craned my neck farther over the railing to get a better look. It looked like two large masses were separating from each other, unearthing a ravine.
Josie had gotten the boat moving, and we were starting to turn towards an opening between two of the spirals. As the boat circled, I got a better view of what lay below. The ravine widened, and inside it I could see a dark, whitish yellow mass peeking through. As Josie cranked us up to speed the yellow mass had opened up into a large, oval shape that seemed to span across the ocean floor. Its center held a deep, dark circle that sucked in light as if it were a black hole, twisting all things inside of it.
Then it closed up. I sighed in relief, hoping that no more spirals would emerge.
Suddenly it opened up again in a furious motion, wider than before, into a perfect circle. Then it hit me - it was an eye, larger than anything I could think of. Although we were moving at full speed, it was so gargantuan that we weren’t making any headway.
It had blinked.
“Josie? Frank?” I screamed as I turned around and saw Frank on the opposite railing looking down at the water, witnessing the same thing I was seeing.
Frank turned to me, his face a washed white, and his mouth slightly agape. “They’re tentacles. They’re fucking tentacles, look!” he pointed at one of the bigger spirals. “They have fucking suction cups and all! Shit, SHIT!
As if on cue, the tentacles started to return to the water, splashing as they did so, producing strong currents in the water. The boat was immediately caught up in the chaos, going up and around huge waves and being dragged by the water’s shifting volume. Frank sprang below deck, and I followed him. From the small round windows I could see one of the gargantuan tentacles dropping back into the water, the boat just barely missing its tip and almost sunk by the shifting ocean.
Josie ran inside with us and exclaimed “The storm is back! It’s fucking back! I can’t maneuver the boat worth shit!”
As she closed the door behind her, we were flung to the side, my ribs hitting one of the cabinets, producing a painful crack. I could hear the rain start to scratch at the boat, and soon we were engulfed in darkness, the rain gunning down on us through the waves. The boat rocked and swayed worse than it had before, and at some points I was sure we’d gone under, buried into the deep sea, never to see the sun again. We held on to whatever we could as water trickled through the sealed door and started pooling up on the floor.
Slowly, but steadily, the storm started to pass, the boat regaining its level status along the water. The darkness outside faded into a dark red. Once it was possible to stand with relative ease, we emerged from the cabin and walked up to the deck.
“Everyone okay?” Josie asked.
“I think I’m gonna --,” Frank replied, and promptly ran to grab the edge of the railing and vomited yellow bile into the water, his stomach empty of food from before.
“My ribs got a beating, but I don’t think anything’s broken, “ I said. “What about you?”
“I’m fine. Just some bruises. Look,” Josie said, walking to the other side of the boat.
On the horizon, we saw the evening sun illuminating a crimson glow behind a small town some 500 yards away.
“Frank?” Josie called out.
“Yeah?” he replied through thick phlegm that sounded like it was stuck to his throat and running down his nostrils.
“We made it.”
We docked at the unfamiliar town and found a small hotel - probably the only one there - just a quick walking distance away. Once we got our phones dried off, Josie’s seemed to be the only one that still worked. As she looked up our location she nearly dropped the phone on the ground.
“I -- I don’t know how, but we’re quite far from home,” she said, her voice produced in quick breaths.
“How far?” Frank asked.
“Some 480 miles away.”
We checked and double checked her phone, but she was right: somehow we’d ended up nearly 500 miles down the coast into a small fishing town.
We were so tired that we decided to get some sleep before giving the bad news to Josie’s dad. The next morning Josie called him up and explained the situation, giving him the simple version: a storm had hit us, and after we got out we’d arrived here. I could hear the screams he gave her through the phone - apparently he was sure we’d driven the boat all the way to this ghost town in the middle of nowhere and docked it here, just to spite him. Josie didn’t respond to him much, only apologizing and telling him to come pick us up.
A day later he arrived, furious with us - and especially Josie. Once we showed him the boat I thought he was going to burst into a thousand tiny pieces, for I’d never seen a man so angry before. Although I think he overreacted, it was true that the boat was in shambles. There was water damage throughout the interiors, most of the equipment was shot, and large scratches were present along the exterior’s white paint.
Josie begged him not to drive the boat back home, but he insisted, not hearing a word her daughter was saying. We drove his car and arrived home that night.
As promised, me and Josie went out for a beer a few weeks later after her dad had settled down enough to let her out of the house. We went through the events of the trip in great detail, confirming to each other that it really did happen - although we disagreed on one thing.
Josie still thought that the spirals were just magma turned rock, and the whole thing was just extremely bad luck. According to her, we got held up by a superstorm or hurricane that moved our boat on top of an active underwater volcano, and then got hit by that same storm later as it moved across the ocean at miraculous speeds. Her theory was that the storm moved us along with it, making it possible to traverse such tremendous lengths with ease.
But Josie didn’t see what had been underneath us. Her theory was that the ‘eye’ I saw was simply lava cooling down as it emerged from the ocean bed. But she hadn’t seen it blink.
Frank of course seen it as well, but I haven’t heard from him much after the incident. According to his mom, he’s been cooped up in his room, drawing yellow circles on black pages. He’d told her that he needed some time to think.
submitted by Adomanzius to nosleep [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 21:20 lin_seed David Hinton’s China Root: Mountains, Dharma, and Mat-Su’s Big Name Reveal

Hello zen, welcome to my ongoing experimental book report on David Hinton’s China Root.1
The “experimental” part of this book report is mostly for my personal self-observation: I have been doing it over such a long span of time that, at this point, I am significantly reduced, in a cognitice sense, compared to where I was when I began issuing “reports” on David Hinton’s curious tome several years ago now. (I have early onset dementia—and the fact of the matter is that I’m already a decade beyond the “early” part, for all practical purposes.)
I only introduce this subject to explain any verbal deficiences in this post. I am nicotine-less, and still trying to figure out how to get my brain to output words in a consistent or coherent manner. I’m totally incapable of filming videos right now, as I forget what I am talking about within 5 minutes. But when I woke up today I saw a post from u/sje397 in my feed, and it reminded me of how kind and cordial he was to me when I first posted here, and I thought: “Well that really did work out pretty well, didn’t it?” And so I wanted to pop up with a post that showed him that my efforts to bring my study of Ch’an to this forum have not deviated one iota since that very first video—in which I brandished an apple rather wildly, talked about sutt, and made a pretty decent broom joke, if I remember correctly.
In any case, I have the perfect content slotted up: the next two chapter’s in my revolutionary book report on David Hinton’s locally controversial book: China Root. (Revolutionary because, while I have never been a fan of the book report standard, nor highschool nor university scholarship whatsoever, I did find it important to try and fit in with zen locals, by offering them one example of their favorite form of content: one book report in classical “book report” style. [Linseed: Full disclosure: most of the time when I wrote book reports in elementary school, I did so in the form of short fictions that discussed the text—so reporting on a book as if I am some desk bound nerd that puts weight into “scholarship” and “facts” does not come naturally…so just keep in mind that, even though this is a book report, it is still offered up by a literati who is neither drunk on themself, nor on anynone else, nor on any particular pack of lies that is bundled together and sold as “authority” to the masses. Thanks.])
No…even my book reports are quite clearly the product of a literati, and not some desk-fascist who has something to “prove with words”—so I do hope you enjoy!
First, here is a run down of book reports so far, for any who are curious, want to get up to date on the book, or who are interested in what the process of reporting on a book thoroughly looks like (for the many of you who have never actually seen that before):
Introduction: a work on "Original Zen."
Reader's Note and First Chapter
Meditation, Breath, Mind, and Words
Empty-Mind and Mirror
Bonus post:
The Utility of China Root for Literate People
Oh, and before we actually proceed: you are caught up to me in my own progress in the book so far. It’s kind of an exciting moment for me, honestly, because while I have profited immensely from Mr. Hinton’s poetry translations over the years (and I highly recommend both his Li Po and his updated Tu Fu)—to be completely straightforward I have never found his philosophical interests engaging or pertinent, think his take on a “Tao” based framework of “Ch’an” wonky to the point where I ask “so this is only for PhD’s with $400 sweaters and / or rural aristocracy that have things like actual looms in their homes?”, and am entirely unconvinced that an “academic” poetry translator with a giant list of millionaire foundations in his resume is going to be able to successfully introduce Ch’an at all.
And after the above introductory segments, we start to get into the real world today. Let’s see what the “artist-intellectual” aristocrat has to share with us tired and lowly masses on the subject of Ch’an, shall we?

山水 Rivers-and-Mountains

This chapter is probably of the least interest to the zen user. (But is particularly useful for New Ager lampoonery.) It’s worth plucking out two quotes in order to show who Hinton is and how he sees himself / his approach to Ch’an, as well as how he recognizes not only himself but also, clearly, many of his readers in Tang and Song China’s class of artist intellectuals. This certainly makes him somewhat of an outlier in the world of Zen study (and it also restricts him to a certain demogrpahic of readers, and obviously flips the bird to many others, such as non-artists and non-intellectuals, scholars, members of religious instituitions, etc snd so on). It is worth pointing at this location of his book when it comes to audience, however: because this is the audience he has been cultivating very successfully for several decades, and it is the audience where this particular book already has and will continue to find many readers: ie the class of artists and intellectuals (many of whom are academics) who choose to live in rural settings (or keep a vacation home there)—and enjoy reading poetry. This is why I know this book will actually be read by quite a few people. I live among this demogrpahic, and have already seen Hinton’s book surface in the wild amongst readers who never expressed a lick of interest in “Zen” or “Buddhism.” (It’s weird—I thought users here would be particularly interested in this tome due to the fact that it will reach completely beyond the world of relgious instituitions and thought, and bring a new wave of secular readers to Zen…sadly the curioisity, verve, and amicability of the contemporary “internet scholar” leave much to be desired.)
Now, obviously 99% of these folks, the “artist intellectuals” Hinton writes for, would never stoop to touch Reddit—which is precisely why I feel this forum owes them, but even more so Reddit users, a thorough review of Hinton’s book. (And please, do add your comments and opinions about the book to this OP—I would love to see them myself.)
But wait—I suppose some of you may be asking, “well if this book is written for a bunch of folks with oil paint and bruschetta on their fingers, or who have those fancy tethers on their eyeglasses that allow them to be taken off and rested on the chest while while eyes are opened a little wider, looking up and out some window some mountain or some river vista, as they wistfully contemplate their analgoues in medieval China—then why should I be interested?” ::redditor munches doritos:: Well, while that is a question only you can answer, reader, I can say that, if you ever do end up becoming the sort of student of Zen who moves to a rural locale, and begins walking around with a stick—or even if you just visit on some pastoral vacation—the book will / can be rather useful when you’re walking on the path and you bump into someone who quotes Leibniz, or mumbles something about Chartres when they see a particulalrly grand upended tree…and you want to poke that person in the eye.
Anyway. Hinton on how he sees things, and the very specific class of folks he writes his book for—even while clearly halfway imagining that class into existence himself (call it a “writing trick” I suppose):
(On the “cenrality if landscape” in “Chinese culture and Ch’an practice”)
This explains the centrality of landscape in Chinese culture and Ch’an practice: indeed, the abiding spiritual aspiration of China’s artist-intellectuals was to dwell as integral to rivers-and-mountains landscape. The cultivation of this dwelling took many forms, all of which recognized rivers-and-mountains landscape as the open door to realization. Ancient artist-intellectuals lived whenever possible as recluses in the mountains, wandered there where that cosmological process could be experienced in the most immediate possible way. The arts were considered ways to cultivate that dwelling: poetry being most essentially rivers-and-mountains poetry, painting most essentially rivers-and-mountains painting. And that dwelling was also the central concern of Ch’an practice.
Hmm. Like I said, this guy’s wonky. Maybe if I went to one of my fancier neighbor’s houses—while they smoked high-cbd, low THC cannabis, and casually ate something I didn’t even recognize (likely while dipping it in something else that looks like my monthly food budget contained in one bowl)—and listened to them pontificate about what happened that one time they “did psylicibin right after reading Walt Whitman on a camping trip in the Himalayas”…this would resonate. [Linseed: Hey, they read a lot—but I’m not saying they’re particulalry skilled at reading what when where or how!]
Anyway, you see how Hinton writes about this stuff. “Good luck getting through WWIII ‘aritst-intelleftuals’! I truly hope your walnut wardrobes and families and looms and easels and designer dog breeds—and literally to die for appaeritif spreads—all manage to navigate history safely together, with nary a hiccough or a stumble!”
—Linseeed (for reals)
In this next passage we see Hinton’s highly personal and very…idk, sort of “radically independent”2 take on the history and location of Ch’an. What is interesting is what he brings up about the centrality of mountains in the Ch’an record. (I mean when the local “Zen Master” is often given the name of the local mountain, it does tell you something.) Anwyay, Hinton being weird and some other stuff:
Ch’an’s beginnings can be traced to around the fourth century C.E., when there was a resurgence and deepening of Taoist thought (Dark- Enigma Learning) together with the beginning of landscape’s centrality for China’s artist-intellectuals, most notably when China’s mature mainstream poetic tradition emerged in the form of rivers- and-mountains poetry invented by two epochal poets: T’ao Ch’ien and Hsieh Ling-yün (author of “Regarding the Source Ancestral,” a seminal text in Ch’an). The reason for this is no doubt the mirror- deep clarity of empty mirror-mind that Buddhist meditation so resolutely cultivated. And in fact, the original meanings of the Ch’an ideogram, before it was chosen to translate the Sanskrit dhyana (“meditation”), were “altar” and “sacrifice to rivers-and-mountains.” Hence, meditation as a place where one honors or celebrates rivers- and-mountains. In addition, Ch’an monasteries were typically located in remote mountains (those in cities surrounded themselves with the domesticated landscapes of gardens), and Ch’an masters leading those monasteries generally took the names of local mountains as their own because they so deeply identified with mountain landscape: Hundred-Elder Mountain, Yellow-Bitterroot Mountain, Cloud-Gate Mountain, Heaven-Dragon Mountain, Wind- Source Mountain, River-Act Mountain, Buddha-Land Mountain, Cloud-Lucent Mountain, Doubt-Shrine Mountain, Fathom Mountain, Moon-Shrine Mountain, and indeed: Mirror-Sight Mountain.
So much for the “New Ager Crack” chapter—let’s get to some interesting stuff.

法 Dharma

Holy Smokes! Hinton is finally gonna talk about something real! 😜 (Or at least we can hope…I have no idea—these are uncharted waters for me from here on out.)
In common usage, 法 (Dharma) means “law.” The first sense of the “law” in Ch’an is simply the teachings of the Ch’an tradition, the essential truths about reality and the essential principles that guide practice. But that initial meaning is quickly dismantled, because Ch’an’s essential teaching resides outside of words and ideas.
Oh shit! Did he just kill all scholars with one stroke?!? Those feisty artist-intellectuals! Must be a warzone in the academy these days, what between the old guard and the encroahing corporatists, who carry the banner of “truth” wherever they go backlit by flames.
After this passage he goes into some of his worst (imo) schtick: talking about how Tao “unfurled” into “Dahrma / Ch’an”, etc. The aritst intellectuals might slurp it up, idk—but that milkshake offers no real flavor to a student of Zen that I detect.
Now he quotes Huangbo (whom he coyly refers to as “Yellow Bitteroot Mountain”):
This dharma is mind: outside of mind, there is no dharma. And this mind is dharma: outside of dharma, there is no mind.
And wowzers, this is going to make some folks choke on tea:
Mountain continues (in a passage we have already seen) to equate both to Absence: “Mind is of itself Absence-mind, is indeed Absence- mind Absence.” So in Ch’an, dharma can be known through meditation where one can “see original-nature.” In fact, Bodhidharma described dharma as “the inner-pattern of original- nature’s purity.”18
Pretty spicy, n’est pas, zen users? Now, this “Inner Pattern” concept is an interesting one that I’ll come back to in a future post. For now, he ends on the “dharma” thusly:
And so, dharma’s wordless teaching resides in empty-mind, rivers- and-mountains landscape, the sheer thusness of everyday life.
And as Patriarch Sudden- Horse Way-Entire says, dwelling as integral to that dharma is itself the liberation of awakening: The dharma of all things themselves, that is the Buddha-dharma. All those dharmas together are liberation, and that liberation is the existence-tissue itself all clarity absolute.
Is not “Sudden-Horse Way-Entire” the absolute best “Zen Master Name” for that particular patriarch? Imo, the names are the most fun part of the book thus far.
What did you think of the last paragraph, zen? Is it comprehensible to you? Or does it make you sneeze birkenstocks, and screw Odyssean wax out of your ear with one finger?
My opinion so far is that Cleary is defintiely a better translator, and that this “intro” book seems so wonky, thus far, that I am not sure if it will ever limp its way out of the library of some retired Don Quixote, or not. Thankfully, time will tell—and all I have to do is write a book report.
PS: How was that, sje? It took both you and spring herself peeking in my window this morning—but I did eek out some content.
1 The most recent installments were made under the moniker of u/golden_eyebrow, that alter-id I conjured to a lonely and savage life of historical piracy, and launched into the past and future last summer.
2 Is it still worth making literary or etymological jokes in this forum? Or am I already the last of the funny people?
submitted by lin_seed to zen [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 21:18 ijod97 Low mileage/ year - Oil Change interval recommendations

I have a 2018 GTI SE (unmodified) and my dashboard service reminder just came on. I live in the Washington DC area and take the metro to work, so the car only sees about 5000mi/ year, with about half of those being short trips of 15 mi or less.
Minimally, I plan to get an annual oil change. However, the service light seems to come on every 6 months.
Would resetting the reminder cause issues if I every need warranty repair? What interval would you recommend for my driving habits?
submitted by ijod97 to GolfGTI [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 20:55 JordanFromStache Bob Ross & the Fine Art Community

I've been thinking about Bob Ross's place in conversation of art and art history.
As far as I can sense, Bob Ross is deeply well liked among most people (myself included) for his kindheartedness and gentle voice as he teaches his painting techniques on his PBS show, The Joy of Painting. I've also gotten the sense that there's a large part of the (fine) art community that completely disregards him as an artist, his work, or his techniques.
I've heard arguments that he is more of a teacher than an artist (which, some college professors might slightly also feel the sting of that statement), but I personally think his artistic ability shouldn't be understated.
He was stationed in Alaska when he was in the military and fell in love with the beauty of nature and the mountains he saw. To capture this beauty he was moved to paint them and, by all accounts, taught himself how to oil paint. By necessity, he learned to paint quickly he said, as he wanted to complete paintings during his short lunch break.
I've heard his art categorized as 'Kitchy' or 'motel art', which is fair. Landscapes a lot of time fall into that realm, and most don't hold any deaper meaning beyond "oh, pretty scenery". But, I feel like the artist's passion should be taken into account. He wasn't so much painting landscapes because they were the art he liked, categorically. He painted landscapes because of the joy he found in nature and he wanted to capture that joy in both his painting and the process of painting. As you watch him paint any piece, he's quite literally beaming with describing mountains, clouds, trees, etc. I've seen art in museums that are modern and/or abstract art that half of the relevance of the work was the emotion the artist had while making it or the emotion they put into it. Bob Ross has a similar way of putting emotion into his art to convey feelings, it's just that it is put into landscapes. Plus, landscape painting are plentiful in museums. In fact, there was a time where still life's were a big subject of paintings in Art History, a subject of which I completely find little to no excitement in.
Another criticism I have heard was how some serious painters don't think Bob Ross's technique is all that great or that nothing of artistic importance can be gleaned from his videos. But, I humbly disagree with such statements. By all accounts, he developed his own style, which is more painting than drawing, which is a good thing, in my opinion, when it comes to painting.
His techniques actually show a somewhat deep understanding of form, visualization, spacing, lighting, and color. For example: it is not always the best idea to paint/draw EXACTLY what the eye is seeing. Sometimes you have to lie about lighting, etc to make it look correct visually. Bob Ross frequently did this. He would, more often than not, know where the trees would look best, the height of the tree that would best compositionally, where the peaks of the mountains looked best at, where the highlighted ridges of the mountains should cut, etc. And when he did a 'happy accident's, he was able to reimagine and bring that mistake back into the composition.
His control of the medium should be recognized to. He was great at mixing his paints to bring out the correct colors he was looking for (and quickly, on the spot during his shows). He also had great control of his tools, being able to paint with a brush and pallette knife, achieving good results. He knew how to use the pallette knife to make a mountain side or cabin and the brush to make trees by dabbing his brush and pond reflections of those trees with just a couple strokes. Some elements of his techniques could fall under Impressionism.
And, one of his most important contributions is his show. Through his show, his easy to comprehend teaching style and his calm instructions, he introduced many people to art. Art can feel snobby and pretentious sometimes, and a lot of people see the art community as that, as well as some art as brooding/angst/angry or very high class, pious, and sophisticated. Bob Ross brought the process of making art (and oil paintings no less, one of the more historically high class mediums) to the masses, showing people that painting can be fun and joyous and that anyone can do it. Sure, not everyone will make art that is museum quality, but I don't believe that's the purpose of art, and it never was. Art is an expression of the artist. And even if some folks out there are painting some mountains and happy little trees and expressing themselves through art and enjoying themselves while doing it, than that's plenty good enough.
submitted by JordanFromStache to ArtHistory [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 20:28 Rhondajeep Where not pay a fortune to have the rear shocks swapped out?

Normally a job I’d do myself, but the bolts are seized. No amount of penetrating oil and hammering will get me past the first bolt and no impact driver. I have the shocks already and Muffler Man, my usual go to for exhaust wants $150 to do the swap. If that’s the going rate, then that’s fine, but are there any other suggestions for a place that will do a swap for less? It’s such a simple job with the proper tools!
submitted by Rhondajeep to kzoo [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 20:12 Something2023--- My brother (38M) thinks that I (30M) am a pedophile, and he won't let me near his daughter (7F)

My brother (38M) is an NCO in the USAF, currently stationed in South Korea. He is happily married with a local that he met the first time he was stationed in Korea, and they have a beautiful 7-year daughter named Yu-ri. Yu-ri and I happen to be very close, and I always like to find ways to make her laugh.
Back in 2022, I (30M) and my parents flew over to Korea to visit my brother and celebrate Yu-ri’s 7th birthday. One day, my parents were out touring the area with my brother, while I was still dealing with the jetlag. I was sleeping in my brother’s visitor room, when Yu-ri opened the door and hopped on to my bed and started jumping up and down on it. She wanted to go for a bike ride with me. I told her that her uncle was very sleepy, and he would like to snooze for 30 more minutes before getting the bikes out.
This is the part that I really have trouble typing out. Yu-ri was wearing a skirt that day, so while she was jumping on the bed, I could see her underwear. I got kind of flustered and mortified, and I got my niece to calm down and we sat on the bed together, and we had a small chat about appropriate behavior and what she was doing wrong. We talked for less than 5 minutes, and I thought it was no big deal.
Yu-ri must’ve told my brother about what happened, and later that night, my brother requested to talk to me in private. While I was with him, he channeled his MTI and really grilled into me. He accused me of sexualizing his daughter, and I was so taken aback that I didn’t really argue with him. All I did was talk to his daughter about how to act more appropriately, and that was it. Long story short, my brother and his wife excluded me from their daughter’s birthday celebration, and nowadays he is NC with me, though I still try to contact him frequently.
This is all just a massive, emotionally-charged overreaction on my brother's part, isn't it?
submitted by Something2023--- to offmychest [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 20:05 Embarrassed-Paper165 permex petroleum oversold

Everyone knows energy stocks took a hit last week, personally I feel it's just undue fear and presents a buying opportunity. Most analyst still see around $100/barrel oil this year.
Permex Petroleum sold off from $5.8 to $4.0. There's only about a million shares outstanding, and it's roughly 50% insider owned, so sellouts are greatly magnified when they happen. Hence the buying opportunity now.
Long term, permex is sitting on nearly 30 million barrels in the Permian directly adjacent to companies such as diamondback, occidental, etc. -- independently verified.
They just completed a vertical well but have not released results yet, and they have signaled that they wish to convert that to a horizontal well.
Entire company valued less than $10 million, so even a small increase in revenue will shoot the stock price up. And long term there is a decent potential for huge gains as they continue to drill and produce oil. They could reasonably be producing 30k bopd in a few years if all goes well. That's hundreds of millions even at $65 oil.
submitted by Embarrassed-Paper165 to pennystocks [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 19:49 Glopuss Supermarket (Coles & Woolworths) specials March 22 - 28 (incomplete)

A selection of items “on special” this week in Coles and Woolworths that may be of interest to keto followers. Many are processed so not really suitable for “clean keto”. Victorian data, some may not be available interstate. Consider house brands may be cheaper than ‘specials’
Alcohol (except no carb beer) excluded. Drink prices exclude recycling deposits. Fruit & Veg probably vary by state, so excluded.
If you are doing an online order, I suggest you also look at the stores' ONLINE ONLY specials as I don't always include all of these, many are multibuys.
Coles ‘locked prices’ might now be considered specials but same every week til April so not included as specials


Coles web pages are a mess, prices showing as a special in the List function are not showing as specials when you drill down into details. So some of these prices cannot be trusted. To make matters worse, they have now taken down the old pages.


Woolies has a range of health products @ 30% off, I have put some under the Protein heading for convenience.
Woolworths is “printed catalog only” as their web pages have not been updated by 6am. I may try again later in the day.
submitted by Glopuss to ketoaustralia [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 19:47 tenebrous5 Which air fryer is better - Philips hd9200/91 or Black + Decker af300?

Hey guys, as the title asks, I am looking for my first air fryer. These two are currently falling under my budget. I get they're very basic, but I want to start with something simple. Can anyone give any insight? I really want to go for the Philips one but my mom wants the B+D one cuz it has is an aerofryer which has the option of not only air frying, but grilling and cooking too.
My concern is that because it has the extra options, it will not do its primary job, thats to air fry, very well. My next concern is that I have read a few reviews about the long lasting plastic smell that seems to come from new airfryers and that B+D one specifically takes extra long.
Any info will be very helpful.
submitted by tenebrous5 to airfryer [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 19:38 Decent-Lie-9070 Goldman Sachs bearish: the supply side is hit harder, the banking crisis is beneficial to oil prices

Goldman Sachs continues to be bullish on oil amid the banking crisis.

On Tuesday, local time, Goldman Sachs global head of commodities Jeff Currie publicly said that this banking crisis will ultimately be good for oil prices because it will have a bigger impact on supply than on demand.

He said there are no signs yet that the spread of the crisis is weakening physical demand for raw materials. The biggest impact of this regional U.S. banking crisis could be to limit lending to shale drillers, which would ultimately curb oil supply.

If the Fed suspends rate hikes at this week's meeting in response to the banking crisis (which is Goldman Sachs' current base scenario), it would also be good for oil prices, Currie said.

The problem is with U.S. regional banks, which are lending less. What kind of loans will be hit?
That would be the part of the U.S. shale merchants. So when we look at the longer term, this is more of a supply-side hit than a demand-side hit.
Amrita Sen, head of research and co-founder of Energy Aspects Ltd. also said that the plunge in crude oil prices poses a threat to supply. At current prices, about 200,000 to 300,000 barrels per day of U.S. production is at risk, while demand could increase by 200,000 barrels per day.

Goldman Sachs, which has long been very bullish on oil, last week slightly lowered its forecast for oil prices. Goldman expects Brent crude to reach only $94 a barrel in the next 12 months and $97 a barrel in the second half of 2024, compared with a previous forecast of $100 a barrel, due to concerns about the banking crisis and the possibility of a recession.

Still, Currie said he is more confident that there will be a super cycle in commodities than before this crisis. He believes that the oil market will fall into a supply shortage in June, which will attract investors back into the sector
submitted by Decent-Lie-9070 to StocksandFinance [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 19:37 sticcydabliccy I just need to VENT about Royal Canon Urinary SO😤

I'm so sick of them altering the recipe & can size.🤬
Preface: My cat stopped drinking water after my other cat died unexpectedly.🥲
I add a lot of water to my cats SO it's the only way that he'll eat it. It used to be anyway. He REFUSED to eat it unless I added water and made it slightly softer for him.🙃
Now they've changed the recipe and added more oil or water so it's like mush and when I add the slightest drop of water it smells like pee. My cat refuses to eat the mushy pee smelling food. I also noticed that his pee is extremely pungent and smells exactly like his food. It doesn't smell like cat pee, it smells like human pee.🤮
Apart from that I'm going through way more cans of food because the food is less dense and my cat is losing weight.💵
I've talked to a vet and we're working on the drinking water thing, he's super picky. like bottled water not filtered water picky it's odd.💧
Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk 😂
submitted by sticcydabliccy to catfood [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 18:42 Susceptive Gladys Wells, Working Witch - 10

Gladys Wells, Working Witch - 10
Every Sunday, WritingPrompts has a "Smash 'Em Up" offer with random words, phrases and themes. I roll everything together into the same bite-sized story universe. This week's wordlist was red, fortune, skosh and trice, with a requirement for a "Somonka" poem. Link

Ash all over.

Graspy Paws

Rebecca's red "Mamavan" pulled to a stop across the street from a smoking house. "Looks like the place?"
"Seems like," Gladys agreed. She compared her tracker-- an enchanted Etch-A-Sketch tied over the Trouble Box-- to the mob of firefighters and bystanders nearby. The scribble toy was their second attempt at locating the box's owner. The attempt was simply taping one of the two-dimensional creatures to the side, but it turns out they just slid off. Using the whole box worked better. "The line's not moving even a skosh. But it canna be right."
"Why not?"
"That's the home of Crone Marion," Gladys scanned the crowd and pointed at a gloomy figure wearing an oversize hat. "There she be."
"So what happens now? Are you going to fight, or...?" Rebecca seemed interested. "I never get to see you doing this witch-y stuff. It's kind of exciting."
Gladys shook her head. "Nah. Something's off kilter. Let's talk it out, first."
Nothing draws a crowd like a fire. They got out and joined the throng, crossing the street outside the barricades until they were close enough to feel heat. Which was an odd thing, because even though the house was practically roasting the hedges Gladys couldn't see a single lick of flame. Just smoke, pouring out of every broken window.
Even in a crowd a witch gets her personal space. Crone Marion turned as they got close, throwing a flinty eye at each of them before settling on the box in Gladys' hands. "Ah. Trouble comes in threes, today. An' how you be, Wellspring?"
"The Wellspring were my mam," Gladys set the box down and gave the older witch a hug. She accepted with a grudging grace. "Just 'Gladys' for me."
Wrinkles and suspicion turned to the left. "And this?"
Rebecca stuck a hand out. "Mrs. Johnson. Call me Rebecca, or Rebs. Everyone does. What happened to your house, if it's okay to ask?"
More smoke erupted from the windows. This time a pair of panicked firemen sprinted out, chased by something knee-high and darkly sinuous. It nipped their heels all the way to the truck and did a triumphant war dance on top of their discarded equipment.
"Charn weasel," Marion spat, watching the smoky thief retreat indoors with a stolen air tank. "Erupted right out of a box like yours, went straight for my weaving and books. Chars everything it touches an' delights in collecting shiny things. Someone knew me, knew my work. Sent a thing to ruin both."
Gladys shared a look with Rebecca. "Was there a note on the box?"
"Aye, had a name on it." Her floppy hat dipped ominously low. "This Fanfaronade person will have a change of fortune right soon. One way or t'other, or I'm not Edith Marion."
"Same as me, then." Gladys fished out the card that came with her Trouble Box. "Mine was packed full 'o planar creatures. Buggers ate my wards and charms before they even got out. I thought the workings were failing because I was gone so long after the funeral, but..."
She trailed off with a sad look as everything got quiet for a moment. Even the excited crowd seemed hushed, although sounds of breaking and excited chittering inside the house continued.
"Anyways," Gladys tried not to notice Rebecca's sympathetic. "Moving on: What say we get that thing out of your home and bound up? We'll catch up afterwards."
Marion nodded slowly. She looked tired and slightly sad. "Aye, we'll raise a toast. Always an excuse to celebrate someone so loved as the Wellspring. Now, then-- what are you thinking?"
"The charn weasel likes shiny things, so let's bait a greed trap. Maybe a two part casting?"
"Worth a try. We've a maiden, mother and crone here. I've a bit of jewelry." The elder witch rummaged in her pockets. "You want fives and sevens?"
"Fives and sevens it is. Rebs, would you mind borrowing a sack from those firefighters?"
They were set up less than a minute later. A nervous Rebecca stood on the sidewalk next to a fireproof bag, holding a small bracelet with a gemstone. The two witches blended with the crowd.
Gladys cleared her throat. "What a perfect gem," she stage-whispered, counting syllables. "Look at the color, the shine! It should come be mine. My treasure, to keep and hoard. Forever it gleams for me."
Magic jumped into the air with every phrase, redirecting and moving attention. Within seconds a pair of burning triangular ears popped up over the windowsill. A fierce little head followed, burning eyes turning to look at Rebecca. The crowd followed suit, everyone forgetting the smoking house and craning to get a look at the suddenly fascinating bracelet.
"That jewel be mine!" Marion contested, exaggerating words with raw avarice. "I saw it first before you. Hand it here, my girl. I'll give anything for it. Perfection needs an owner."
That did the trick. The weasel came out in a flash of burning footprints, giving Rebecca barely enough time to throw the bracelet before it dove into the bag. Gladys snatched it up in a trice, ending the spell before the crowd turned into a mob.
"Whew. Easy enough with a bit of planning. Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication."
She passed the struggling bag to a pair of very confused firemen, then clapped her hands to get rid of the ash. "Well, it looks like we need to keep looking. I canna imagine this be an accident of some sort. Two witches, same day? Someone's got a game."
Rebecca checked her watch. "I can loan you the van, but I have a lunch thing soon. Call me when it's over?"
"Sure, sure. Marion? Would you like-"
"Nah," the old witch waved her off. "I've a home to check over and damage to fix. But stop by soon for that toast. We've a lot to talk about, crone to maiden, 'bout some work your mam left out."
Gladys winced.
submitted by Susceptive to Susceptible [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 18:16 basenjimomcom Best Bacon Press Review

It is easy for bacon to curl when it’s cooking. It then becomes challenging for the bacon to cook uniformly, which is not what you want.
That is why the cast iron bacon press was invented. This is simply a weight that ensures the bacon does not curl and instead comes out flat. The best bacon press is usually heavy and flat, and these qualities help it to do its job.
With the bacon press, you’ll spend less time cooking your bacon and, therefore, save fuel too.
Using the bacon flattener doesn’t require a lot of effort. You just place it on the bacon strips, grilled sandwiches, or ham while cooking, and the castiron bacon press will do its job.
Satisfy the big bacon fan in you by buying yourself a good bacon press that will cook your bacon evenly.
Make perfectly cooked slices of bacon for your sandwiches and burgers.
submitted by basenjimomcom to u/basenjimomcom [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 18:03 exploding-knees Spotted a Bjork-themed menu in NYC

Spotted a Bjork-themed menu in NYC submitted by exploding-knees to bjork [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 17:56 verylate Contractor Question - Licensed Contractor misrepresented his license, performed electrical and plumbing work he was not licensed to do - electrical has failed

I’ve heard the odds aren’t on the homeowner’s side in AZ regarding the work of contractors, but we have a contractor who has been building an outdoor kitchen - which includes electrical and plumbing, and has continuously misrepresented his license to us via (saved) text messages.
He/his crew installed a new breaker in our electric panel, which failed in less than a year, rendering the whole area useless and is now very slow to act on fixing it. There is a water line supplying a hand washing sink and new electrical to power a built in pellet grill and outdoor bar fridge.
We asked him to bring an electrician to fix the work next week - he says “I am an electrician” - his contractors license specifically states “this classification does not allow the licensee to install, contract for or subcontract new electrical service panels, gas or plumbing lines, blasting, outdoor kitchens, gazebos…”
So is the next step to file a complaint with the ROC? We just want the thing fixed AND our house not to burn down. He has two licenses, but neither cover this type of work.
He will not communicate other than text (which is convenient for us to save the lies).
We are just not sure at what level we can recover losses here if we have to get someone else to fix it. Especially if it was ALL done wrong.
submitted by verylate to phoenix [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 17:29 hudson4351 oil smoke point question

I am aware that different types of oils have different smoke points and should be used in different situations:
All of the recipes I find for grilled vegetables call for extra virgin olive oil to be applied before grilling (example:
If I'm grilling asparagus according to the recommended instructions (and usually I'll have one or more of the other burners turned up higher to cook something else at the same time), the temperature gauge on my grill typically reaches about 450, which is well above the listed smoke point of EVOO. That said, the asparagus always seems to turn out fine.
If I'm reaching the smoke point of an oil, won't that be apparent in how the food tastes? If the temperature gauge on my grill is reading 450, how am I not hitting the smoke point of the EVOO?
submitted by hudson4351 to grilling [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 17:15 No-Aspect8527 Important Considerations to Make For OTF Knife Owners

Important Considerations to Make For OTF Knife Owners
Knives are central to every kitchen whether you talk about the kitchen in a home or a restaurant. You can’t think of working in a kitchen without a knife and when we talk about knives, you have plenty of choices in front of you and you can choose among those choices based on your requirement. When we talk about use, knives serve different purposes in your kitchen starting from cutting and chopping fruits and vegetables to anything.
As said, you have numerous choices as the blades come in different shapes, but your selection of the blade should be done in a way that you should get the best outcome for your money. Do you know about out-of-the-front (OTF) knives? If not, don’t worry as these are just a type of knife that is provided with a button, and with the help of that button you can control the movement of the cutting blade.
OTF knives are mainly of two types:

  • Single Action OTF Knife – It may already be clear to you that single action knives perform only a single function where the blade of the knife gets out of the handle on the press of a button and has to be retracted back manually to its original position.
  • Dual Action OTF Knife – The name of this knife indicates that dual action tactical OTF knives perform a dual function. It is completely automatic as the blade gets out at the press of a button and when you again press the button, the blade retracts back to its original position.
Here are some important considerations that you should make as an OTF Knife Owner.

  • Frequency of Sharpening the OTF Blade
The frequency of the sharpening of the OTF blade solely depends on your usage because the more your knife is used the more frequently you need to sharpen it. However, if your usage is comparatively less, then you can get it sharpened from a service provider in a month or two.

  • Cleaning of the Cutting Edge
Next in line comes the part of cleaning the edges and keep in mind that cleaning the cutting edges after each utilization is necessary to keep the knife in working condition. The best way to clean the blade is under faucet water. To take the material stuck in the blade use firearm oil by spraying it on the handle of the cutting blade. Use a wet cloth to clean the blade surface after all this.

  • Occasionally Discharge the Dual Action OTF Knife
Dual Action OTF Knife
To increase the lifespan of your OTF knife, discharge it once in a while, and to do that, keep a light piece of emollient cloth with you. In addition, to that keep other necessary materials to unscrew the blade. When you have all that start with dissembling the parts and springs and cleaning all parts and greasing them up. Once you are done with cleaning and greasing reassemble the blade and use it as you want.
Conclusion: The given post talks about Out-of-the-front knives that have become quite popular among people. Here, you will find a few important considerations that you should consider when you own an OTF Knife.
submitted by No-Aspect8527 to u/No-Aspect8527 [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 17:13 CLGS222 An unusual project

I sleep in a lift chair that goes into Trendelenburg.
Because diaper’s don’t do the job, I sleep in inflatable beverage server, inserting a tube into the drain. The problems are: the 15 x 18 in. ID is tight and they don’t last.
Here’s my possible solution but I’m hoping for suggestions…
1) Turn our large oil drainage pan upside down. 2) Lay our EP 30x30 potting mat over the pan, securing it to the pan for a degree of form/structure. 3) Coat the mat with Inhibit-X. Let dry. Add 2nd coat and dry. 4) Using a tube of silicone, attach a silicone urine collector and tube along with 4-14” silicone straws to form drainage channels. 5) Brush on Dragon Skin 20 with Thi-vex.
Unsure when or if I need to apply demold spray.
I’m thinking the 4 bottom edges will need to be thicker than the 4” wals. The front rear & back walls may need to be less thick (more flexible) to lay across. But I need the investment to last!
My husband & I will be working together on this because there will be a large area to cover in a short time!
Thanks for reading & for your thoughts!
submitted by CLGS222 to moldmaking [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 17:00 Unusual_Form3267 I am poor and looking for advice on replacing my current hair products with cheaper alternatives. Please help!

Ok, so I have fine, thinning hair. I am prone to dandruff and my scalp gets really oil after day two but my tresses are prone to dryness. (Don't try and convince me to wash less. I have tried for years. It doesn't work for me.) My hair is wavy and tends to fall flat with any kind of heavy conditioning products or most sulfate/paraben free stuff but what I use now keeps me moisturized and volumized. M hair texture is wavy but really prone to breakage and split ends. (Sil pillow case/sheets& microfiber towels REALLY help.)
I used to have really bad hair loss (you could see my scalp). I have improved BIG time with the products below and am sad to have to try new things.
This is what I use now and need to replace:
These are my non-negotiables that I don't want to replace but will if I absolutely have to.
I can't believe I was spending this much money on hair stuff, I definitely couldn't afford it. But, I guess that's why I have credit card debt and now need to budget. I am hoping to get this down to $100/month if not lower.
Any holy grail items that you get for cheap are all welcome. I am open to amazon but mostly just have a wal mart and drug stores where I live.
TLDR: I am poor because I spend too much money on hair products. Need cheaper replacements.
submitted by Unusual_Form3267 to Haircare [link] [comments]

2023.03.21 16:59 kindaindependent_ish 2023 Hyundai Tucson Hybrid Blue

I (24 f) bought a 2023 Hyundai Tucson Hybrid Blue back in December 2022. I drive a LOT for work, so I needed something that’s going to last me. The hybrid was also the best option on gas mileage. I’m now at 5k miles and my car was factory set to notify me at 5k miles that I need my oil changed. I went to the dealership and they reset that setting to notify me at 7k. They then checked my oil (while the engine was JUST shut off) and they showed it to me and it was a little less than full. I went home, turned my car off, and allowed it to cool for 10 mins then i went out and checked my oil again, it was at half.
I asked a trusted friend, he said I should get it changed every 3-5k miles and that the dealership wants something to happen to my car. My dad said his coworker just had this happen to where the dealership tried blaming him.
I’ve gone to the dealership twice now, and they’ve given me looks like i’m stupid and they wave me off and won’t change my oil.
Should I get it changed now at 5k, or wait like the dealership tells me? Should I try the dealership that’s 1hr hour away since they have better reviews?
submitted by kindaindependent_ish to CarHelp [link] [comments]