The Lt Jake Grafton’s (Cool Hand) A-6A from the movie “Flight of the Intruder” is finished! I spent the eighth and final week completing the decals. The fuselage was then top coated with clear. I attached the forward nose gear door, the TER’s loaded with MK 83 bombs and the drop tank to the underside. On the topside I installed the windscreen, refueling probe, and canopy. I then painted the back sides of the tail and wingtip lights with chrome. The clear lenses were applied and then painted with Tamiya clear paints. This completed the build.
I had a plastic base that looks like a flight deck and decided to place the aircraft on it. I have some custom decals to make for a client and will add a decal that I can add the trim of the base later.
As for a review of this kit, it is a mostly decent kit. The biggest issue was the fuselage fit just forward of the cockpit. This required the most work to correct. The rest of the kit had a good fit with minimal putty along the seams. The shape of the top of the tail is also slightly off from the real aircraft. The top is a little flatter on the kit. A few minutes with some sandpaper and the shape was corrected. The instruction sheet is well laid out with a good assembly flow. Even though many of the aircraft scheme decals were made by me I did use the kit decals for the general things. The kit decals are very nice. They went down and adhered to the surface very well. The finished model looks great. The Eduard photo etch sets add nice details. The resin accessories worked out great. I am on the fence about recommending this kit only because of the fuselage fit. Overall I am pleased with the finished product. Thank you for following along on this build. Happy Modeling!
You can see all the photos and details from start to finish in my build log at: https://davidsscalemodels.com/build-log/1-48-a-6a-intruder-flight-of-the-intrude
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An educational institution has requested photos of a native jumping spider, and this is within my skill set. I've seen them around quite a few times, they're friendly and inquisitive little creatures who aren't particularly shy. But I've never deliberately searched for one. I've read that their habitat is the canopy of oak and pine, but I think I recall seeing them in places like deck railings.
If anyone has one who would like to sit for a portrait, that would be cool.

Hi, I recently got a tanning canopy thing, it comes with a tiny little power cord. It says not to use it with an extension cord.
Would doing so really have a decent chance of resulting in a bad outcome? It’s no big deal, just slightly annoying as the power cord is really short and it’s quite a bulky item.
I’ve attached photos of the electrical sorcery stats of the canopy and the extension cord.
Please bless me with your arcane wisdom.

Imagine a world staggering beneath the weight of over eight billion souls, most leaving behind a unique scar of cruelty and neglect. It's a burden too heavy for our Earth to bear. And I, a mere blip, found myself on the precipice of non-existence. A Tuesday etched into memory, the second-to-last day of school, and the prelude to my abrupt end. I offer you, reader, not just a recounting of my last week and the only proof of my existence, but also a stark warning.
At fifteen, I was awkwardly wading through the stormy seas of adolescence, complete with the scourge of hormonal surges and the unfortunate sprinkling of acne dotting my face. My world was wonderfully wrapped up in a corner of our high school cafeteria, a realm presided over by Emila. The dazzling subject of my dreams, she held me under her spell with her enchanting beauty. Her hair, a river of glistening platinum, formed a comforting canopy around me, filling my senses with a tantalizing mix of coconut-scented shampoo and the memorable reminder of our gym sessions.
“Alex. ALEX!”
My Emila-infused daydream was interrupted by Elijah, my only friend in a table full of acquaintances.
“Did you see the TikTok I sent?”
He asked, a twinkle of devilish delight dancing in his eyes. I fumbled for my phone, eager for a dose of Elijah’s promised comedy, only to find the video was no longer available with unsurprising speed.
“Man, it was comedy gold! Imagine Thanos, asscheeks and all, telling the most offensive shit. Legendary stuff”
Elijah chuckled heartily, his laughter echoing around the room.
“Sure sounds like it”
I muttered, my gaze returning to Emila. Her attention was stolen by my older brother, the infamous Mikey, whose joke had her laughing. Mikey, a final year student with a solid record of academic underachievement and a proclivity for marijuana, was a walking, talking, stoner stereotype. What was unsettling was his inexplicable charm with the wide-eyed freshman girls, a twisted hobby that gave him an unusual sense of satisfaction.
As the bell shrilled, signaling the end of the school day, Mikey abruptly stood up, the metal chair beneath him screeching. His next words, a slurred mix of slangs and contemporary cuss words, were aimed at summoning his freshman fan club. At the same time, he requested for Emila to join their quest for illicit pleasures. Emila's reaction was a fusion of disgust and amusement, an expression I decided to commit to memory for my poetry. She gracefully declined his offer with a well-rehearsed flip of her hair and a disdainful wave of her hand, then she returned to her conversation, laughter pealing from her like sweet music, completely oblivious to my heart hammering in my chest.
Around me, chaos broke loose as the cafeteria, now released from the clutches of academic torture, transitioned into a war zone of wild whoops, boisterous laughter. The last sight that graced my eyes as I exited the cafeteria was the bewildered expression on the face of our school janitor, as he stood paralyzed amidst the storm, mop in hand It was a fittingly ludicrous end to another thrillingly mundane school day. With that, I picked up my bag, donned my headphones, and began my solitary trek home.
The burden of unrequited love weighed heavily upon my weary shoulders as I trudged homeward. In dire need of a hit, I fumbled for my go-to vape, only to be met with the light show of a dead battery. As I hit the 7-Eleven on my route, I was looking forward to seeing Antonio, this dude who seemed more interested in cracking jokes than caring about checking IDs. But instead of Antonio's playful smirk, I came face-to-face with a new character, with wrinkles that told stories of time gone by. A wave of disappointment washed over me as I nabbed a bottle of Dr. Pepper and headed for the cash register.
"What happened to Antonio?"
I asked, putting my drink on the counter for the mystery guy.
"Who?"
He muttered, his focus on the soda can he was sliding under the scanner.
"Antonio, the guy who's usually here in the evenings"
I explained, a hint of irritation in my voice.
"Dunno. I only started here last week. I just know the young girl who takes over when my shift ends"
He responded, his words leaving a gap in my world, like a punch in the gut of my usual routine.
Taking a bubbly swig of my Dr. Pepper, I tried to swallow the truth of teenage life. It was like walking into my favorite cozy room, only to find the furniture rearranged haphazardly. The change was unexpected, and unwelcome.
Finally trekking my way home after sitting on a bench listening to music for what Must've been hours. I walked under a sky that seemed to be experimenting with shades of orange and purple, I felt a strange kind of solitude sneaking in. My thoughts kept playing a merry-go-round with Mikey, Emila, and now absent Antonio - the trio that had become the stars of my high school drama.
My front door protested loudly under my foot's frustrated kick, and a slurred
"WHAT THE FUCK!"
Bellowed from the living room. My mother, ensnared in an alcoholic haze, lounged over the couch, her shaking finger accusingly pointed in my direction.
"Did you forget that I get migraines?"
The smell of tequila permeated the air, filling my nostrils as soon as I crossed the threshold. I sighed, hoping for a lifeline.
"Is dad home?"
My mother sank back onto the couch, her voice a whisper
"No."
My father, the only one who occasionally lent an ear when I complained about Mikey, was perpetually chained to his cubicle, another cog in the corporate machine.
I ascended the stairs, each creaking step a harmony to the melancholic rhythm of the dark. The silent house held the weight of my unease, my chest tightening with an indescribable yearning. Tucked away in the solitude of my room, I pulled out my phone, the screen's glow illuminating my apprehensive features. I typed out a tentative message to Emilia, a small confession of the feelings that had long been gnawing at my insides.
"Hey, Emilia, I..."
First message sent. But before I could finish my second text, the dreaded words - 'Message Failed to Send' stared back at me. My heart sank. Was it a sign? Maybe the universe was intervening, telling me it wasn't the right time, or perhaps, it never would be. Disheartened, I slung my phone aside, letting the unsent feelings hover in the digital void. Slipping under the comforting shroud of my blanket, I drifted off into a sleep, with dreams tinted in hues of Emilia and unspoken words.
The next morning started out ordinary until it was splattered with the color of angst when I pleaded with Mikey that morning to stay away from Emila. His response?
"Amelia, the freshman? Didn't know you had a thing for her."
His nonchalance was maddening.
"Emila. As your brother, I'm asking you to back off"
I clarified, hoping it would penetrate his stubborn exterior.
His perplexed expression turned into a nonchalant shrug.
"Damn, been saying her name wrong the few times we spoke, and she never bothered to correct me."
Mikey shrugged and walked away, leaving me feeling dismissed and unheard.
Feeling a mix of frustration and confusion, I left for school and shook off the encounter with my brother and headed to my first-period class. As I stepped into the room, I expected to see my usual teacher, Ms. Thompson, waiting at her desk. However, to my surprise, it was someone else entirely—a teacher I had never seen before. I had really liked Ms. Thompson too so to see she got a substitute on the last day was dissapointing. Yet his resemblance to Ms. Thompson was uncanny, from the way he held himself to the tone of his voice. I knew something was off.
I glanced around the classroom, taking in the unfamiliar arrangement of notes and papers hanging on the walls. The subjects and diagrams were foreign to me, not matching the usual decor that adorned this space. It was as if I had entered an alternate dimension, where everything seemed the same yet completely different.
As the class went on, the new teacher droned on with the same monotony I had grown accustomed to, but it felt hollow, lacking the genuine concern and passion that Ms. Thompson always displayed. The other students seemed oblivious to the change, talking and cutting up as if nothing was amiss. But I couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.
Throughout the rest of class, my mind wandered, retracing the events of the past few days. Antonios unexpected absence, the failed text to Emila, Mikey's nonchalant reaction to my warning about Emila, the strange teacher in place of Ms. Thompson—it all felt like pieces of a puzzle that didn't quite fit together. For the first time, I realized how little attention I had paid to the details of my daily routine. But now, with this subtle shift in my surroundings, I couldn't help but question everything.
As the class finally came to an end, I gathered my things and made my way out.
The unfolding of the remaining classes before lunch did nothing to alleviate the paranoia that was steadily creeping over me. In my second-period class, usually dedicated to cleaning out the science lab, I noticed a set of instruments that we'd never used before. My peers didn't bat an eyelid, but to me, the incongruity was unsettling. Then in English, our final class reading didn't correspond to the assigned book. The text seemed different, as though it had been subtly altered.
Physical education, typically a free play session on the last day, was different too. Coach Peters was blowing a whistle I'd never seen before, its pitch more grating than the usual. And just before lunch, during the end-of-year assembly, the principal's speech, usually so predictable, seemed off. It contained references to events and achievements that didn't match my memories.
As lunchtime arrived, a mix of anticipation and anxiety filled the air. Even with my world falling apart I found time to worry about Mikey's presence around Emila. However, Emila was nowhere to be found. When I mentioned this to the group as I took my seat, my words were met with silence, as if I had become invisible.
Sitting alone at the edge of the table, I sought solace in our group pictures, hoping to catch a glimpse of Emila. I opened Snapchat and scrolled through my camera roll until I found my favorite picture of her. But to my surprise, Emila was inexplicably absent from the image. I blinked in disbelief, rubbed my eyes, and questioned my own perception. How could she have vanished? In the photo, my arm had once embraced her, but now it hung empty at my side.
"Guys, where's Emila?"
I asked, passing my phone to Elijah. He stared at the screen for a long moment, as if emerging from a trance.
"Who?"
He finally responded absentmindedly, his attention quickly diverted by a video shared by another friend.
Taking back my phone, I desperately searched for more pictures, only to find that they had vanished—her Instagram, Snapchat, even her parents' Facebook profiles. Panic gripped me, and I screamed
"WHERE IS EMILA!?"
My voice resonating through the cafeteria, reverberating off the walls. The entire room fell into an eerie silence, and all eyes turned to me, their gazes fixed with a mix of curiosity and concern.
"Her social media is gone. I feel like I'm going insane, and none of you even acknowledge me!"
My voice cracked with desperation as I pleaded for answers.
Mikey and Elijah rose from their seats, their expressions filled with compassion, ready to console me. But I couldn't bear their pity, their feeble attempts to calm my tormented mind. Their words would be meaningless. With a surge of frantic energy, I pushed my chair back and fled the suffocating atmosphere of the cafeteria.
As I stumbled out of the school, my surroundings blurred in a whirlwind of confusion and distress. The world itself seemed to warp and twist, mocking my feeble attempts to comprehend the inexplicable. Thoughts tumbled through my mind, colliding and fragmenting like shattered glass. Where had Emila gone? How could she vanish so completely, leaving no trace behind? Was I losing my grip on reality?
A light drizzle began peppering the surroundings, setting a somber atmosphere. Hours slipped away as I aimlessly wandered, searching for answers. Maybe someone had slipped me acid-laced food, or perhaps I was crazy like my mother. The thought of my brother's affinity for drugs crossed my mind, but I had never dabbled. Nevertheless, I felt compelled to find a sense of respite in my vape once again.
Entering the 7-Eleven, a chilling sensation overcame me as I discovered the same elderly man behind the counter. Without uttering a word, I hopped over the counter, desperate to find any clue.
"Kid, you can't be back there!"
The man exclaimed, attempting to restrain me. Swiftly, I pushed him away, unearthing the work schedule from the wall.
"Where's Antonio?" I stammered.
The old man, seemed to recognize me.
"I asked about that. Antonio doesn't work here"
He said, struggling to regain his footing. Overwhelmed with a sense of paranoia, I bolted out of the gas station, gasping for breath only when I reached the safety of my home.
In the dim light of the early evening, I found myself sprawled on the unkempt grass of the front yard. The recent rain had left the ground sodden, but I barely noticed the wetness seeping into my clothes. As the rain mingled with my silent tears, I heard the familiar rumble of my older brother Mikey's truck pulling into the driveway.
"Hey pussy"
He exclaimed, pushing his rain-soaked hair back from his forehead. His voice carried a light-hearted jest that felt foreign amidst the somber atmosphere. He was always like this, quick to crack a joke even in the gloomiest of moments. It was his way of diffusing tension, I suppose. He reached out, pulling me up and leading me towards the house. Once inside and in his room, an aroma filled my nose – a peculiar mix of stale pizza and mildewy old books – that somehow comforted me in a strange, indescribable way. It was an olfactory reminder of a time before things got so complicated.
Catching my eye, Mikey reached into his drawer and withdrew an intricately designed glass bong. I had seen it before, on one of those rare occasions when Mikey would let me into his private world. Now, he was extending the invitation again. He passed me the bong, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
I hesitated for a moment, my mind flashing back to times when mom would sit us down in front of the TV after school, her kind and comforting presence a strong reassurance of love and security. That was before the alcohol took over, before the comforting light in her eyes had been replaced by a glassy, distant look. The thought of her brought an odd sense of calmness, as if her spirit was there with me, in Mikey, guiding me through this haze.
Taking the bong from Mikey, I let out a nervous chuckle, matching his playful demeanor. As I took a hit, we fell into a comfortable laughter, punctuated only by the deafening theme song of Family Guy playing on the large TV in the corner of his room. The memory of our shared laughter resonated deeply within me, a balm to the churning unrest I had been feeling.
"It seems today that all you see is violence in movies and -"
Suddenly, the television vanished, replaced by a weathered dresser that had been stored in the attic.
Mikey's phone suddenly blared a familiar jingle.
"Ah, man. One sec, bro,"
"-sex on TV." My brother's phone blared at maximum volume.
"Sorry, bro, my friend texted me"
He explained, placing the phone between us.
"Where's the TV?"
I muttered, the words hardly audible. As the high intensified, the room started to spin, the comfort of Mickey's presence fading away. I reached out in a futile attempt to steady myself but fell onto the cold, hardwood floor. The room seemed to swirl around me, familiar objects distorting into unrecognizable shapes and colors.
Pulling myself up, I lurched out of the room, navigating the labyrinthine house as fragments of memories flooded my mind. It felt like I was walking through a dream – a vivid, disorienting journey through time and space. Stepping outside, I saw the lawn had morphed into a neatly trimmed landscape, A new 'For Sale' sign swaying gently in the evening breeze, dissolved away as quickly as I noticed it.
The sounds of laughter drew my attention to the house. The windows were aglow with warm, inviting light, revealing an unfamiliar family engrossed in their game night. Their joy was a stark contrast to my growing desolation.
As days rolled on, my world reshaped, transforming from the familiar to an enigmatic panorama. Faces blurred, places mutated, my identity itself seemed to wane, fading into oblivion.
Caught in this mutating reality, I felt a quiet observer, my existence phasing out into the ether. Friends, family, Emila - all were doomed to be memories of a boy who will soon be gone.
Then, amidst the dissolving haze, clarity dawned, presenting a profound revelation. Our Earth was yearning for equilibrium, burdened with the weight of 8 billion souls, a possibly infinite and cruel humanity, now quickly seeking balance before it was too late.
We had pushed our home to her brink. Now, a beautiful transformation is underway. Smiling strangers began to color my world, their joy reflecting the Earth's newfound harmony. Merchandise, once an extravagant luxury, now seemed accessible to all. The battlefield in Ukraine had given way to peace, a testament to the world healing its wounds.
As I type this out in a clean and rather nicely lit alleyway. I find myself blending into the cosmic expanse, my hands and arms fading away before returning as if the universe wants me to finish. As I turn from a solid entity into an echo of existence. The world moves on, its stride unperturbed by my fading presence. Yet, in my diminishing, I realize my contribution to Earth's balance.
Earth is in the midst of achieving perfection. Many of you won't make it and will be gutted like myself, some of you will stay. The rest of you, I catch glimpses of as I fade, timeliness unaffected and left to die without God.
My final thoughts are not of sorrow, but of serene acceptance and profound understanding. As I phase into the ether, I became a cosmic whisper, a gentle reminder of the necessity for balance and respect for our fragile planet.

In 1965 I was twelve years old.
My father made the news for killing my mother. He was certain that she had been cheating on him while he was at work, but I don’t see how that was even possible. My mom and I never got any sleep, for my father worked third shift and he would call home every chance he got. If she didn’t answer, she would get punished when he got home. One morning he took it too far. I was already at school when my neighbor came and picked me up during math class. He told me that my father was in jail and that my mother was about to die. There was no subtlety in those days, no sugar-coating the truth. You swallowed it down whole and raw.
I was at my mother’s side when she finally breathed her last. Her face was unrecognizable, swathed in bruises and lacerations. She was unconscious. There were no last words, no ‘I Love You’, no response to my wailing, nothing but a few last gasps of air.
The ‘best interest of the child’ was an alien principle to the inhabitants of the small town I grew up in. Convenience- that’s what mattered. The easiest place to put me was with my grandfather, the father of my father, and there wasn’t much difference between the two. The genetic code that instills in another human being a lack of empathy was prevalent on this side of my family. I had to endure my grandfather blaming my mother for her own death.
“She brought it on herself. If she would have just minded her manners,” he would often say. If it wasn’t that, it was something else derogatory about my mother. There was a snide remark every day. He would throw it in my face. He hated me because I looked less like his son, and more like my mother. With some strange morbid logic applied, I believe he also blamed me. If it wasn’t for me, his son would not be in jail.
I hated the man and I felt that one day it was going to get violent. I may have only been twelve, but Sarge, as he made me call him, was in his eighties and I could have easily pounded the man into oblivion if I really wanted to, and of course, I really wanted to. Sarge- why? Because he said he was a Sergeant in World War I, but I didn’t believe it. I never saw any evidence of that nor seen any photos. If he had been in the Great War, wouldn’t there be something hanging on the wall or on his fireplace mantle? No, he was a liar like my father, wrapped up in a make-believe world, far from the truth of his pitiful reality.
I spent as little time as possible in that house. Most of my days were spent down the road on Mr. Baker’s property, hunting small game like rabbits, dove, and squirrels with my 22-caliber rifle. Mr. Baker was a nice man and I wished I could have lived with him. He didn’t mind me hunting on his land, as long as I stayed away from the forest on the other side of his property. He claimed that there was something not right in those woods. Often, his dog Dolly, a Golden Retriever with an inexhaustible amount of energy, would accompany me on my hunting excursions.
I often came home empty-handed, but there were those days where I became obsessed. I couldn’t leave the field without a quarry, but more importantly, I didn’t want to go back home to that hateful old man. Sometimes, I imagined he was in my sights, that he was the hunted, and I the hunter.
Dolly was not an obedient dog. On some occasions I loved having her around to flush out the underbrush. Other times, she was a colossal pain. I would hunt up to the fence line that split Mr. Baker’s property from the much-maligned forbidden forest he often warned me against. One late afternoon, with nothing shot or killed, I got desperate, and climbed over the barbed-wire fence and trekked down the hill to a patch of bamboo growing by a small dried out streambed. I crossed over to a thick forest of trees, grass, and honeysuckle, abuzz with life, the sounds of insects slicing the air and rodents plowing through the undergrowth. I knew I had found the perfect spot. I spied a little rabbit gnawing on some clover. I slowly pulled my gun up, aiming, ready to shoot, and then Dolly came crashing through like a bulldozer through a flowerbed. The rabbit scurried away, but kept its course straight. I made a hasty, but careful pursuit, trying to be quick but ready to stop and hold still when the opportunity presented itself.
“Damn dog,” I murmured to myself.
“Damn dog,” something ahead repeated.
“Who’s there?” I inquired.
There was nothing but silence. Dolly had stopped about ten feet east from me, refusing to move any further. It seemed darker than normal in this area of the woods. Up ahead was a circle of Juniper trees, and beyond that a glade, an opening in the middle, devoid of life.
The rabbit I was pursuing appeared near the glade. Instinctively I begin to resume my hunt, absorbed in the moment, casually brushing aside the voice I had imagined. The rabbit stopped, I raised my gun, and as I went to squeeze the trigger, I saw the rabbit move into the glade and fall to its side. It’s legs frantically kicking about, as if something had a hold of it and it was struggling for life. Then it stopped, lifeless and staring out of one exposed black eye into the darkness of eternity. I noticed that it wasn’t the only carcass lying about. There were birds, squirrels, and other rabbits strewn across the open landscape. Some skeletal, others partially rotted, and some, like my rabbit, fresh and recently deceased. The smell was thick with putrid, decaying corpses.
Dolly saw the easy prey, her passion overriding her instinct and fear, leapt into the glade and fell on her side, just as the rabbit had done. She began kicking and yelping. Her cries were pitiful, a sad song for help I couldn’t resist. She wasn’t dead yet. Maybe I still had a chance. I crawled up to the edge of the glade, reached in, and grabbed her by the paw. My hand felt icy and stiff, the blood flowing through the veins in my hand felt like powdered glass. I pulled with all my strength.
“Timmy?”
I looked up to see my mother standing in the middle of the glade, beautiful and young, not at all like I had ever seen her in my own young life. She was a teenager, with a wistful smile, and a visible yearning in her eyes, the vision of which spoke to my soul that she missed me, that she wanted me to come to her in the glade. I was ready and willing, leaning more towards her and loosening my grip on Dolly. I felt a comforting warmness in my stomach, and an urge to bring solace to my lonely forsaken mother.
At that very moment a deer sprinted into the glade and stumbled to the ground. Out of nowhere an apple tree had appeared, with fallen apples scattered in abundance around the trunk. It was a vision, a lure dangled by a hunter, a hunter other than me, one with a more mysterious and a much more effective weapon.
I came out of my daze and yanked as hard as I could, pulling Dolly and myself from the invisible web we were entangled in. A part of the earth in the glade opened up like a trap door, and pouncing out like a spider was a creature like a man, crawling on all fours, with two small claw-like appendages extending out from its torso. It had dark skin with standing hair all over its body, like a tarantula. Its face looked human, but with sharp teeth and four red gelatinous eyes.
It would stand like a human and then crawl like a spider. It seemed confused and moved in quick sporadic motions. There was more than enough meat to choose from, but from its gestures I gathered it favored living meat, with blood still circulating. It was looking at the deer, but inching towards me. It was deciding between the easy already provided food, or the much more tastier living food- me.
The creature was walking backwards. Every now and then it would quickly turn its head, peek, and make sure I was still there, all the while backing up towards me. I felt around for my rifle, found it and pulled it up to my shoulder. The creature turned, with outstretched arms and appendages, leapt towards me. I pulled the trigger. One red eye exploded and the creature shrieked and fell outside of the glade. It writhed in pain as if the air outside of the glade was toxic.
I got up and ran away from the glade, calling Dolly after me. She raced past me up the hill and under the barbed wire fence. I glanced back as I was running. I saw the earthen door fall shut. The creature had survived.
I didn’t go hunting, or even go outside, for a few months. I was willing to take the abuse of my grandfather. Many times, I imagined taking Sarge down to the glade and pushing him inside, but his time was already limited. I don’t know how he lived as long as he did, smoking three packs of cigarettes a day. It seems that stubborn evil folk live longer than the rest of us.
Over time temptation got the better of me. I eventually made my way back down to the glade. I missed my mother. It was a calculated risk. I had my gun and if I kept my distance, I would be safe. On several occasions I got to see the vision of my young mother, but in time they became shorter in duration. The creature knew I had figured out its game and would no longer reward me with anymore visions. On the next to the last visit there were no apparitions of my mother. I waited, but nothing. The earthen door lifted. I saw three red eyes peering from the ground.
“I will eat you one day damn dog.”
My last visit to that devilish grotto reveled that the creature had moved on. There was no glade, no empty land, nor an opening in the canopy. The spot was filled with invasive honeysuckle, thick with life and the pleasant aroma of flowers, and yet, it saddened me, because the most beautiful flower of all was gone. Amidst the violence and death, was the forlorn life of my mother.
I am now seventy years old, decrepit and weak, without the use of my legs. Diabetes and heart disease are killing me, but there is another death nearby, one less indifferent and relishing the suffering I am now enduring. It is prolonging my passing, giving me agony and yet giving me hope. I know that the fiend has found me again. The air feels suffocating in my room. The more my heart pumps, the more the circulating blood causes me agonizing pain. I suffer, but I endure because for the last several nights I have seen an apparition of my mother, the dying flower in the middle of the glade.

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$20 Minimum Please!
TAT 3 calendar days or less
SHIPPING TO USA: $11 without tracking and $15.75 with tracking. I'm shipping from Canada.
SHIPPING TO CANADA: For samples only, $3. With tracking, it starts at $15. Tracked shipping price in Canada varies by region.
All samples or decants, unless marked as FS.
All purchased new, unless marked as RIS.
ALL PRICES ARE IN USD. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ASTRID

• ALCHEMY & SURF, Ajevie Slonk (cute screw-top vials), $4.25: Aquatic ozone, metallic gold accord, vetiver, rosemary, benzoin, fig, and moss.
• AQUAMARINE, Ajevie Slonk (cute screw-top vials), $4.25: Peach blossom, cucumber, water lily, green cognac, a blend of citrus, blue musk, Japanese peppermint, and sunny sea water accord.
• COVER, 1/4 Bottle, RIS, $6: An enveloping blanket of rice flower, sandalwood, cream, and a touch of cooling bergamot mint.
• FLOATING ON THE WAVES FOREVER AND EVER, Ajevie Slonk (cute screw-top vials), $4.25: Honeydew melon, aquatic ozone, jasmine, lemon, and wild lilies.
• MERCI #27, decant in a thick vial, $2.75, RIS: Lotus, orchid, banana, tropical ivy, and torrential rain accord
• RAIN ON THE OCEAN, Ajevie Slonk (cute screw-top vials), $4.25: Aloe, salt water accord, juniper, pale patchouli, white musk, eucalyptus, and a whisper of spearmint.
• SPELLCASTING ON THE ROCK, Ajevie Slonk (cute screw-top vials), $4.25: Sun-warmed wood, sand, amber, rose geranium, and patchouli.

BPAL (all purchased new)

• CYCLING FOR PLEASURE, Ajevie Slonk (cute screw-top vials), $5.5: Sea water, sea salt-dusted cypress, pink carnation, oakmoss, and white vetiver.
• O HUSHED OCTOBER MORNING MILD, Ajevie Slonk (cute screw-top vials), $5.5: Dried forest pansy leaves, grape vine, grass, lavender buds, thyme, creeping fig, paw-squished soil, and a whiff of coffee drifting down from the kitchen.
• RING OF LIGHT, Ajevie Slonk (cute screw-top vials), $5.5: Radiant pale musk, artemisia, white lavender, neroli, white pepper, and zingy white aldehydes.
• SURPRISE EJACULATION, Ajevie Slonk (cute screw-top vials), $5.5: White pear, white champaca, pink grapefruit, and effervescent white musk.
• THE LAST SYLLABLE, Ajevie Slonk (cute screw-top vials), $5.5: Photos pinned to cool plaster walls, discarded papers, a web of strings, a mirror, a doll, singed straw, scattered books, and unfurled magnetic tape.
• UPSLOPE FOG, Ajevie Slonk (cute screw-top vials), $5.5: Moist clouds rolling lazily up and down low hills of wild grasses, sagebrush, and wildflowers, curling gently around gnarled oaks, majestic pines, and craggy stones.
• URBAN UNDINE, Ajevie Slonk (cute screw-top vials), $5.5: Ocean spray, sea salt, ambergris accord, and lavender.
• WATER OF NOTRE DAME direct , $3.5: Aquatic

DECONSTRUCTING EDEN (all purchased brand new)

• ALCUIN, $2.75: White musks and white amber, the pale greens and grays of his marque, with moss and a chypre accord and a base of soft wood.
• AQUARIUS $2: a blend of air with an undercurrent of water, topped with sparkling aldehydes.
• BURN BOOK, $2.75: College ruled notebook paper, cookie crumbs, indelible ink, glitter lip gloss, and an undercurrent of ruthless ambition.
• CELEBRATION OF SPRING $2 label taped: Pale alabaster, smooth jade, amber light, water lilies
• HOMESICK, $2.75: Dogwood, wisteria, tulips, sunflowers ocean air.
• JEUNE SAINTE AU LYS $2: pale skin, muted notes of polar, pine, and wood, pale white lilies
• JOSCELIN $2: White musks, blue of the summer sky, the sharpness of the cold winter air and grey wool.
• MASTER OF THE STRAITS, $2.75: Stormy sea water, driftwood, bay rum, oakmoss and a couple of drops of hyacinth.
• MOULIN ROUGE, $2.75: a frou-frou of red satin, a frisson of velvet, wooden floorboards, blonde tobacco, red wine, and a drop of absinthe.
• MY GIRLFRIEND’S GIRLFRIEND, $2.75: white musk forms the base. Heart notes of jasmine, soft rose, freesia, lily and black currant. Top notes of pink grapefruit, bergamot and mandarin orange.
• NERVE, $2.75: Blue musk, green clover, soft grey suede, jet fuel, and, white peach tea
• SNOW WHITE, $2.75: Clean white musk, blood-red roses, ebony wood, and a touch of the forest, and that infamous apple.
• TALENT, $2.75: Crisp linen, beeswax coated silken threads, Alban rose, and Earl Grey tea.
• WATER ME, $2.75: coconut, dark amber, skin musks, clean water, and satin sheets

FANTOME (all purchased new) $5.5 each

• BUNE: Damp subterranean air, nagarmotha, smooth cave walls, davana, a cold marble altar, & glittering green dragon scales
• STOLAS: Bluebells, an unburnt cedar offering, cool night air, lavender, soft owl feathers, blueberries, & a hint of dark chocolate

NAVA

• COUNT CHOCO, Ajevie Slink, $4: Count ChocoCocoa Absolute of Persia, India and the West Indies, Cocoa liquor, Wheat, Cocoa Powder, Vanilla Powder, Mallow and Chocolate Soy Milk.

NUI COBALT DESIGNS (all purchased new)

• DEEP HEALING, 1.15 ml, $3.5: Deep ocean water, bracing wind, cold clary sage, and fresh rain-drenched greens.
• DENDROPHILIA - THE LOVE OF TREES, 1.15 ml, $3.5: The love of Trees.Moss-covered deadfall, birchwood and pine, lingering resins and sunlight through the leaves, a trace of woodsmoke, the memory of vetiver and cedar.
• FROST GIANT , 1.15 ml, $3.5: Himalayan cedar, towering oak, nagarmotha, frozen sage, moss-covered stone, cucumber, and fog.
• GREY WOLF, 1.15 ml, $3.5: White sandalwood, black amber, icy sage, cashmere, stone musk, lichen, softly smoked birchwood, grey suede, mountain springwater, and white peppercorn.
• MERFOLK, Ajevie Slonk (cute screw-top vials), $3.75: The mineral scent of sand, salt, and shells upon the mist, ambergris accord, turquoise musk, warm orris, olive trees, and neroli.
• ORNITHOPHILIA - THE LOVE OF BIRDS, 1.15 ml, $3.5: A wistful effusion of angelica, kava kava, elderflower, linden, mugwort, saffron, acacia wood, purple heliotrope, and mugwort.

POSSETS (ALL PURCHASED NEW; unless marked as FS, all are samples from direct or decant from Ajevie that are $2.5 each)

• 4 SEASONS OF SUMMER: Bamboo, silk, Japanese incense, a hint of water, and fresh green shoots, and a small introduction of sandalwood in the mix to send a cooling breeze your way.
• ALASKA: the chill in the air, but also the perfume of the riot of summer blossoms as they race the sun every year.
• ARC OF VENUS, FS, Brand New Never Used, $16: Sexy sandalwood base, black lavender, calendula, “abstract” musk, sharp grey musk
• BERENICE: Champagne musk, pink grapefruit, a dash of lemon zest, a veil of dragons' blood
• BIRTH OF VENUS: jasmine, aquatic blend, light citrus blend
• BRIDAL CHORUS, FS, Brand New Never Used, $16: a lot of Hawthorne here, a very sugary musk, a kiss of a ""silky musk"" and it's all about silky skin
• FASCINATOR: sparkling, very high-key bright crystalline musk, emollient backup musk, sandalwood, cedar and rosewood.
• FLYING HORSE: Bamboo, grated ginger, green tea, luan wood, white floral note
• FROG PRINCESS: To an aquatic base, subtle hints of coconut and mint are added.
• HATSHEPSUT: Bitter beautiful galbanum pairs with the smoothness of labdanum, a bit of oude gum, and a very small amount of the best skin amber.
• HEATHCLIFFE AND CATHERINE EARNSHAW: Heather of the moors, lavender of English, a drop of wildness, oude
• HYLAS AND THE NYMPH: pooled water, lush vegetation, and sneaking scent of sex
• ISABELLA: rose are combined with a light resin, white tea leaf and a rare honey/milky/cream musk. A light dusting of familiar spices.
• LOLA MONTEZ: green of Irish grass accord, deeply green aquatic note, dark and thick labdenum, tonka infusion, animalic musk.
• LOTUS OF THE NILE: The lotus is the prime fragrance in the bouquet, but it is followed by bits of roseate beauty, a sort of dark incense which has been winnowed through the air, and faint aquatic background scent.
• SWAN: cool with a light kiss of olive leaf, a blend of three blue musks (from light to dark and a mid tone one), a bit of cork (!) extract, a small amount of osmanthus.
• TERRA NOCTURNA: violet, vetiver, leather, ozone, pepper, sugar, and a crystal musk
• THE WATER BURNS: The essence of earth and high greenery--a hint of smoke but smelled from far away, boxwood, galbanum, and a light hint of Mysore sandalwood.
• XUONG CUONG: A cold green leaf bats against a ghost wood, a lash of green chlorophyll and crystal musk, a bit of luan wood, and a soft ambient earth scent, finished off with sandalwood and yuzu, the latter adds an air of almost black walnut and nutwood-like nuance to the whole.

SIXTEEN92 (all purchased new unless marked as RIS)

• ALL IS BRIGHT Ajevie Slonk (cute screw-top vials). $4: Quiet snowfall, brisk winter ozone, warm peppermint tea, tightly laced ice skates on a glistening frozen pond
• ALL IS BRIGHT, $5: Quiet snowfall, brisk winter ozone, warm peppermint tea, tightly laced ice skates on a glistening frozen pond
• ANDROCTONUS AUSTRALIS, $5: Rum, wild fig, dry papyrus, sweet tobacco, oud
• AQUILA, $5: Juniper, chilld white tea, mountain laurel, soft cotton, airy musks
• AQUILA, $5: Juniper, chilld white tea, mountain laurel, soft cotton, airy musks
• AQUILA, $5: Juniper, chilld white tea, mountain laurel, soft cotton, airy musks
• BEAUTIFUL. POPULAR. LOVED. FEARED. Ajevie 2020 Half Slink, $1.5: Moonflower, tiare, bitter almond, blond woods, heat lightning, asphalt
• BEFANA, $3.5 (decanted into a thicker vial that’s approximately 2/3 full but measured to be around 1/5 of a bottle): Black currant and dried fig, black pepper, forest berries, pressed flower petals, creamy amber, winter spices
• BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR, Ajevie Slonk (cute screw-top vials). $4: Dusty magic shop shelves, dried sage leaf, crystal ball, darkened amber musks, a puff of smoke
• BOOK OF STARS, $3 (decanted into a thicker vial that’s approximately 1/4 full): The smell of space (meteor dust, ozone, metal, ethyl formate) blended with grounding white sandalwood, papyrus, & earthy musks.
• CHILLED CHAMPAGNE, $3.5 (decanted into a thicker vial that’s approximately 2/3 full but measured to be around 1/5 of a bottle)
• CHIROMANCY, $5: Orris, worn leather, ink, porcelain, black truffle
• FOOL FOR LOVE, $5: Leather jacket, chipped black nail polish, burning roses, bad poetry
• GRETA, $5: Frosted glass, chilly aldehydes, citrus blossom, elderflower, snow accord
• GRASS HARP, $3.5 (decanted into a thicker vial that’s approximately 2/3 full but measured to be around 1/5 of a bottle): Orange blossom, clover, hyacinth, ruby red grapefruit, sweet basil
• HELIOPHOBIA, decant in chonky vial, $3: Climbing ivy, faded magnolia blooms, moonlit vines, cracked solarium glass, splintered wood, peeling wallpaper, humid air, fog & shadow, feral musk
• I AM ATREYU!, $5: The hopes of all Fantasia: Luck dragon fur, glimmering gold and worn suede, sumac, fire, equine musk
• I AM ATREYU!, $5: The hopes of all Fantasia: Luck dragon fur, glimmering gold and worn suede, sumac, fire, equine musk
• LOUISE, Direct, $5: Sultry amber, red ink, black kohl, night blooms, Tonkin musk (synthetic), wormwood, soft suede, glistening strands of pearls
• LYCANTHROPE, Ajevie Slink, $3.5: Monkshood, warm fur, tuber, elm bark, artemisia, galbanum, weathered rock, silver moonlight
• LYRA, $5: Misty aldehydes, mandora blossom, spring hyacinth, forsythia, new leaves, melted snow
• MIDWINTER DUSK, $5: Chilled evergreen boughs and bunches of mistletoe, a blanket of evening frost, distant sleigh bells, the soft glow of gas lamps on snowy cobblestone streets
• MIDWINTER DUSK, $5: Chilled evergreen boughs and bunches of mistletoe, a blanket of evening frost, distant sleigh bells, the soft glow of gas lamps on snowy cobblestone streets
• SAVE FERRIS, Ajevie Slink, $3.5: "Funnel cakes & lemonade from Wrigley field, salted pretzels, bright blue skies, cool Lake Michigan breeze, Bueller… Bueller… "
• SINTERKLAAS, $3.5 (decanted into a thicker vial that’s approximately 2/3 full but measured to be around 1/5 of a bottle): Cake flour and sugared dough, royal icing, mulled wine, foil-wrapped candies, speculaas cookies, a cozy hearth
• SOLSTICE BONFIRE, $5: Dark rum, grey ash, black amber, firewood bales, pine needle, charcoal, cedar, & billowing smoke on crisp winter air
• TALIA, $5: Vanilla, moss, ivy, soft musk, stone
• THE NOTHING, $5: The emptiness that’s left: Black clouds, stormy winds, broken mirrors, deep water, rock dust, I will just sit here and let it take me away too
• TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT, $5: Swirls of tranquil incense, flickering farolitos, piñon and juniper wood, far-off carols drifting on desert wind
• TURTLE DOVES, Ajevie Slink, $3.5: Frasier fir, frozen sidewalks, snowy park benches, twinkling fairy lights and silver bells, a flurry of soft feathers, warm mittens, a wooden toy chest, delicate porcelain musk
• VILLAINS, $5: Candle soot, pine rosin, blood red pomegranate, howling forest winds, darkened crystals, sacred herbs
• VULPECULA, $5: Pools of rainwater, soaked pebbles, tomato leaf, decaying tree bark, wild brambles, dusty fur
• WAKING IN WINTER, half decant in a thicker vial, $3.5 (decanted into a thicker vial that’s approximately 2/3 full but measured to be around 1/5 of a bottle): fir needle, hemlock, soft snow, pale woods, delicate mint, frost-blanketed leaves, cold metal, distant hearthsmoke

SORCELLERIE all Sorcellerie are RIS (some cheaper than others to account for fill level differences)

• A PARTY OR SOMETHING, $1: Marigolds, yellow cake, white chocolate, pistachio buttercream, Iso E Super, Cashmeran

STEREOPLASM

• ENCHANTED DEW DROPS, 4.5 mL Roller, $9.5: (dew/jade/light smoke/stone moss) - A glowing vial containing healing dew from the misty peak of treacherous Mount Eumedes (will appear in rain during spring equinox if an acceptable offering of fire is made).
• FAIRY FROST, Doll Size, $3: Frosted fairy breath, clean baby skin, frozen bath bubbles and pink bubblegum[camphorous-fairy musk/skin musk/bubble bath/bubble gum]
• KING MOONRACER, Doll Size, $3: Oceanic musk, cool night air, sea salt, pu-erh tea and night-blooming jasmine.
• OGOPOGO, Doll Size, $3: Cool Rippling lake, water lily, seaweed and snake skin.
• PAPERBACK CAFE, 4.5 mL Roller, $9.5: Old books, Earl Grey latte, Japanese plum, ginger and Crème brûlée
• PICKEREL FROG (LITHOBATES PALUSTRIS), 4.5 mL Roller, $9.5: Night blooming jasmine, wet grass, algae, and tomato leaf.
• SNOWMALLOW, Doll Size, $3: Bright pineapple, tangelo and Mojito mint buried under heavy vanilla and heaps of coconut cream[vanilla/pineapple/tangelo/coconut cream/mint/lime/white rum]
• TOTALLY IN LOVE 4.5 mL Roller, $9.5: Soft purple and glowing from within; raspberry cotton candy with a delicate bouquet of jasmine, rose and heliotrope while shadows dance at sunset.

This plant is 21 days old in Fox Farm soil. My runoff pH is 6.9. It seems excessively yellow. My previous runs have been much greener in the same soil.
The light is an HLG 135, which is currently dimmed down to 75 watts, and hangs 30 inches above the canopy. I’ve been using this setup for a few years, and whenever I try to go above 75 watts in veg, the plant burns. I usually go up to about 100 watts in flower.
Could it be an iron deficiency?
But, this is new genetics for, so maybe this is a healthy color? Because growth is still very vigorous.
Here are some photo of my previous runs with the same setup:
https://imgur.com/a/LT7VyCn

SCENE Seven:
Week seven has arrived and I am still having brief time on the bench. However, with the time I was able to sit at the bench I completed the painting and detailing of the canopy and windscreen. I also finished the nose gear door. I really like the Molotow chrome paint pens. I used it on the canopy mirrors and the landing light. The fuselage had some small painting to be done on the formation lights. I also built the centerline drop tank and finished it off with painting and decals. I added the placard decals to the MK-83 bombs as well.
Next I started the decaling of the fuselage. I am using a mix of the kit decals for the standard markings and the custom decals I made for the movie scheme. Hoping to finish this build over the next week but we will see how much bench time I can get this week.
You can see many more photos and details from the start in my build log at: https://davidsscalemodels.com/build-log/1-48-a-6a-intruder-flight-of-the-intrude
​
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https://preview.redd.it/tn0n2vdlyz3b1.jpg?width=1020&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=1dc161ab963fae70cfcec1d89cbaf0843c4b3cc9
https://preview.redd.it/bw6g0vdlyz3b1.jpg?width=1020&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=5e61dc765ae2f6aa04161b15c719efbb39dfacc9
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https://preview.redd.it/ahg194elyz3b1.jpg?width=1020&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=7e6677ef2ec87d6389fb146e5ec4dce4a0e2842a

I am a shopkeeper in a 125 year old office building on a historic main street in Colorado. One day I received a phone call from a lady who was a little embarrassed to ask me a question.
She found my phone # via a google search of an address.. She was close to making a large purchase for office equipment and was doing a little research on the company she was using. She discovered that the company was using the address and a photo of their business location that was the exact copy of what she saw on a google street maps photo including parked cars and trees in the exact seasonal condition. They had poorly photo shopped their signage on the doorway and on the canopy.
Being an old shopkeeper I was interested to check things out for her. I walk the sidewalk the photo was taken of twice a day six days a week and know the signs weren't there for at least the last two years and the office number has been vacant for months and previously occupied by a therapist.
I checked that companies web site and their business address listed was the address exactly as she said. The last I heard from her she was thankful, cancelled her business deal and they were furious with her.
I asked the building manager and he did everything he could to not understand what I was talking about. So off and on I will see mail set out as undeliverable and addressed to companies that are not listed on the building directory or have any signage.
Is this a common practice? Is it something that a business uses when they don't want to give a residence or PO box as their mailing address. Is this something that the 93 year old building owner should be made aware of or just something ye olde shopkeeper should just mind his own business about ?
Thanks, gp

Draw a battery - A bit-by-bit guide.
Attract drums with only 6 simple tasks! In the advanced age, numerous widgets and gadgets make our lives more straightforward. Nonetheless, these creations need power, which is where batteries come in. td {border: 1px solid #cccccc;}br {mso-data-placement:same-cell;}fish drawing
The batteries guarantee that a charging link does not secure us and causes these gadgets to feel versatile. Batteries come in multiple builds and measurements to fit some conditions, yet standard batteries' small round and open plan is likely the main thing that rings a bell.
We will zero in on this sort when we figure out how to draw a drum unit. If you want to know how this should be possible, this will be your ideal instructional exercise! Our bit-by-bit guide on the most proficient method to attract a battery, with only 6 simple tasks, will show you how to repeat a typical family battery precisely. The most effective method to attract a battery 6 stages
Step-by-step teachings to remove a flurry: we should start!
Stage 1
To begin this aid on the most proficient method to draw a battery, we'll begin with the highest point of the Battery. This will be the Battery's positive side, implying a little adjusted segment will stand out. We'll remove this directly, and you can form a group elliptical form for the canopy. Then, at that point, define two straight boundaries and interface them with a somewhat bent line. At long last, for this step, draw another higher-level oval shape encompassing this piece, then draw one more compact shape along the edge to finish this battery surface. Then you will be at stage 2!
Stage 2: Presently draw the remainder of the framework of the Battery.
You've drawn the top surface of your Battery, and in this subsequent stage, we'll draw the layout of the "body" of the Battery. To begin, determine consecutive borders from the flanks of the whole character of the Battery. These will slant internally, as this will make some points of view. This should make the lower part of the Battery marginally smaller than the top edge. For this base, define a marginally bent boundary to interface the different sides before continuing toward stage 3.
Phase 3 - Draw A rare More Subtleties for the Battery
With the schematic done, we can now add a few inward subtleties in this step of our how-to draw a battery guide. In the first place, define a bent boundary across the width of the mixture about a fourth of the way down from the top. Next, we will define two vertical straight boundaries on the left half of the Battery. These will assist with addressing the bend of the barrel-shaped Battery. Wrap up a few minor subtleties on the top surface of the Battery, and afterward, we can continue toward Stage 4 of the aide.
Stage 4 - Following, remove the flattering and damaging storm photos
Every Battery you find will have a positive side and a negative side. These are not difficult to perceive, and a battery name will frequently make this considerably more straightforward by printing images to show which side is which. This is the thing we will include this move toward your drawing of the Battery. The positive image will go to the highest point of the Battery. This will be drawn as a thick in addition to the sign image displayed in the reference picture. The negative image will go close to the lower part of the Battery and have a meager square shape. Whenever you've drawn them, we can continue toward the last contact in the subsequent stage of the aide.
Stage 5 - Count the Last Subtleties to Your Mortar Picture
Before we continue toward the last degree of this assistant on the most experienced form to remove a drum pack, we have a team of last communications to count. For our plan, we drew a thick electrical image of the body of the Battery. You can likewise go for this plan, yet you ought to utilize your extra thoughts too! You can attract an exciting mark to seem to be a laid-out battery brand or make your own. Then, at that point, you can wind up with a foundation for the picture. It may be anything from a foundation example to showing a few gadgets that this Battery could control soon. It depends on you now, so