Interlocking wood patio tiles

Help deciding a air conditioning unit for my home-office

2023.06.02 09:26 epsi22 Help deciding a air conditioning unit for my home-office

To give some background, I live in Sri Lanka. It's an island nation in the Indian Ocean right on the equator with a tropical climate. Temperatures reach 34 Celcius at times but the average is around 30-32 C. I built a home-office recently with a 2 car garage on the ground-floor and the home-office on the first floor. The home-office has a 5 inch concrete slab as the roof and it is covered by another roof on the 2nd floor. There's no direct sunlight during day times and evening and only a side wall gets illuminated during the moring. All walls were made with brick and motar are painted white. The windows have 6mm tinted glass panels and wooden windows that completely block light. Doors were made using wood and is sealed as well. The square footage of the room is 460 and the slab height is 9ft. The floor is covered with PVC vinyl tiles.
What type of air conditioner will be suitable for my home-office? I also want to note that the house is powered by a 5kW solar array with a battery backup. I was thinking of a 18,000BTU inverter air con. Will that suffice?
submitted by epsi22 to hvacadvice [link] [comments]

2023.06.02 06:00 triscuitfan do the rooms in brown have wood or tile flooring

just wondering lmfao
submitted by triscuitfan to UVA [link] [comments]

2023.06.02 05:55 EO3actual Wood Floating Deck, Paver Patio, or Poured Concrete?

As the title states, we’re looking to upgrade our back patio. The previous owners did a “discount special” paver patio that’s been quickly deteriorating each year (very uneven, full of weeds, pooling water with heavy rain, didn’t fill with polymeric sand, etc.)
I have yet to gather any quotes, but with some loose research, it seems we could get any of these options within relatively similar pricing of each other (this is assuming standard pressure treated lumber, not composite decking; or relatively standard paver designs; or a fairly simple brushed concrete patio).
Anyway, I’m looking for input from the many seasoned homeowners on here for what your choice would be out of these 3 options! I like the “coziness” of a wood deck or paver patio, but a concrete slab would certainly require the least maintenance.
For reference, the patio is 20’x14’ and we live in the Midwest.
submitted by EO3actual to HomeImprovement [link] [comments]

2023.06.02 04:16 TTLAAJ Waco Weekend Events Update - 6/1

Event Links - here

Friday - 6/2

Saturday - 6/3

Family Events - link here

submitted by TTLAAJ to Waco [link] [comments]

2023.06.02 03:57 the_upwardspiral Reattaching patio door sill

We recently finished major backyard overhaul, but during the period it was a mud pile, we also had a full gut of the basement (black mould). Tons on contractors in and out and with the backyard ground torn up, the sill of the patio doors came off.
Now the backyard interlock is finished. What is the best way to reattach the sill? I imagine we'll need to grind off old morter and get the base nice and clean too, but what would be the best/cleanest way to reattach it without wrecking or staining therewith interlock below?
submitted by the_upwardspiral to HomeImprovement [link] [comments]

2023.06.02 03:15 imezz00 DIY Outdoor Kitchen - Landing and Perlite Rendering

DIY Outdoor Kitchen - Landing and Perlite Rendering
Hey folks,
Another update on the P85 oven built. Next step in the process was building the landing for the front of the oven and tiling the landing before I could start the done rendering.
I had left over bricks from building the kitchen cabinets so I used those on it’s side to build up the landing. We decided (by that I mean my wife) to go with a tiled landing instead of granite. She lovingly picket out a hexagon shape with a pattern. She also wanted to wrap that pattern all the way around…. NOT ONE tile was installed without needing a cut.
I tried using a scorer and a wet saw and nothing gave me nice enough cuts. I found that the same diamond pads I was planning on using to polish the countertop can be used to polish the cut edges to a factory like finish. So I ended up polishing many of the exposed cuts. Used a hand grinder to cut the tiles.
I went with a flexible cement based sanded grout. The idea is that it can withstand more expand and contract being outside and by the oven.
The perlite render’s first coat was very enjoyable and easy. Wife actually got in there with me and we knocked it out in about an hour. I hoping to do it all in 2 coats but the first coat isn’t half of the needed 2 inches so let’s see how the second coat goes.
Next up is finishing the rendering and waiting a few days to dry before we can start some curing fires!! I am so excited to potentially be able to cook by the following weekend.
Kitchen wise I still have items to go. Mainly finishing the countertops, wrapping up some small plumbing, and building the wood cabinet doors. I have come to the realization that I can’t continue to do this much work myself without ignoring a lot of responsibilities (wife also is tired of the war zone) so we are going to hire a friend to do the roof covering. It’ll be nice having it done in a few days time.
submitted by imezz00 to pizzaoven [link] [comments]

2023.06.02 02:08 TrinketsNKinks For $107.78 from $199.95: BalanceFrom Puzzle Exercise Mat with EVA Foam Interlocking Tiles

For $107.78 from $199.95: BalanceFrom Puzzle Exercise Mat with EVA Foam Interlocking Tiles submitted by TrinketsNKinks to DripDeals [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 23:33 wolferwilder The time I was almost kidnapped

At the time I'm writing this I'm 17 years old and this all happened a little over a week ago. For a little background information, I live in a small rural town and have always been a very paranoid person. I often stay home alone, especially at night, due to my mom's job and my dad will often disappear for odd jobs around town at random times in the day and night. My brother also lives with us but he likes to leave to either stay at my sister's across town or stays a few nights at his friends house. Lately a lot of people have gone missing in nearby cities and towns between the ages of 1-18, even a few newborns, which never eased my paranoia. So whenever I'm home alone I make sure to lock the doors, I never have to worry about the windows due to them either being blocked or have an ac unit in them. I only ever go outside if I need to take my mom's dog Ava and my brothers dog Molly outside to use the bathroom or need to get something out of the deep freezer. So one morning I was home alone and would be until at least eight at night when my dad would get home. I had decided to let Ava and Molly outside to go use the bathroom and pull something out of the deep freezer to cook for dinner. Ava started growling and refused to leave the patio while Molly just stayed near her, which was odd since Ava was very playful and had never growled once her whole life. I decided to look across the street at the empty field at just saw a man standing in the grass near the woods. I could make out some minor features on him though, he had short brown hair, blue long sleeve shirt, and shorts. It was a little weird and made me uncomfortable but I brushed it off thinking to myself it was just someone camping just to make myself feel better. Ava and Molly wouldn't leave the patio and stayed near me so I just took them inside. As I took them inside a large white van had drove past the house a little slow but I just thought it was nothing and ignored it. Later in the day I decided to take the dogs out again and sit on the porch steps as I play on my phone as they do their business. After a few minutes I looked up from my phone as the dogs ran up to me to go back inside and saw the same white van from earlier pass by the house again, it made me a little paranoid but I just ignored it and just thought it was a coincidence as I took the dogs inside, making sure to lock the door just in case. Around 6 I decided to start making dinner, since I like to go to bed early. Halfway through cooking at around 6:20 Ava started scratching at the front door to use the bathroom, but when I went to open the front door I felt uneasy and scared. I unlocked it and opened it slightly to look outside and saw the white van from earlier in the driveway, I couldn't see the driver the in the passenger seat I saw the man that I saw near the woods talking to the driver before getting out. I immediately shut and locked the door and went to my parents room where my dad had his guns and locked myself in there with the dogs as I called my dad knowing he would be at the house faster than the police. As I waited for my dad to get to the house I called the police as I heard the guy trying and open the back door near my parents room. As I waited I heard the guy bang and try to open the door for about 5 minutes before he quit. After another 5 minutes I heard my dad come into the house and yell for me. The guys who were in the white van had left shortly before my dad got home and the police showed up shortly after him. After I gave a description of the man I saw to the officer he left and my dad stayed home with me the rest of the night and when my mom came home he explained everything to her. My mom works at a local convenience store and after my dad told her what happened and I said what the guy who tried to break in looked like she went pale. She had just seen them at the store getting gas just an hour before her shift ended. A few minutes later we all got an amber alert for a girl about 12 years old who went missing in town, and the description of the guy and the vehicle she was taken in matched the description of the guy who tried to break into my house. If it hadn't been for the fact that I always lock the doors I don't think I would be here telling this story today.
submitted by wolferwilder to HorrorStory [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 22:29 riverkingdom LF lease takeover roommate

hi mods please remove if not allowed (i will be crossposting to local pcola fb marketplace groups as well) (on mobile)
i am looking for someone to take over my (half of the) lease. i will be moving tentatively soon but not for a couple months so i am advertising bc i know housing / jobs suck at giving head's up. i have a roommate, 26F (i think that's her age).
i am at Tanglewood Apartments, 2b2b. my lease runs through the end of November 2023 (so six months from the start of june).
rent is $1452 / month cox internet $143 / month fpl electric ~$150 - $200 / month
i split these bills evenly w my roommate, 26F. rent includes trash / water / parking / maintenance / pest control
you will need: pass credit check + pass background check + current roommate approval + total monthly income = 3x monthly rent. provide 2 recent paystubs
about the apartment:
includes washer / drier hookup public pool + hot tub access public apartment washer drier room access recently renovated apartment unit w updated cabinetry + floors wood style floors except bedrooms carpet in bedroom patio porch w sliding glass door working fireplace electric element cooktop stove and oven 2 total parking spaces [roommate has one] 2 pets allowed [none currently] either cat or dog needs pet depisot + monthly pet rent. see website for details
2b2b style is roommate setup, she has "master room" but both have private bathroom access on opposite sides of the floorplan, the kitchen & living room are in between. my bathroom is the bigger one & her walk-in closet is the bigger one. both bedrooms have the same square footage.
submitted by riverkingdom to Pensacola [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 21:35 davallree Could this deck support a small inflatable hot tub?

Hey there, I'm just renting my place and have a fairly large deck. I have taken some pictures of the supports to understand if I could put a small inflatable hot tub on it. This question is mainly around weight support. If you think no, could you provide a recommendation that could make it possible? I understand this would just be a recommendation without someone professional coming to look at it. Underneath pic above pic Also open to recommendations around what to place underneath the tub so that it wouldn't cause damage to the wood. I thought about those deck tile things + some sort of waterproof insulating mat on top of them. my landlord is definitely one of those who is like "do whatever you want but you'll have to pay for any damages" so I'm just exploring my options... it's such a nice deck!
submitted by davallree to HomeImprovement [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 21:18 eccochild Walls/ceiling creaking when walking into bathroom (concrete floor)

House is 60 years old. Tile glued directly to concrete throughout. As I walk into the bathroom, especially in the morning, I can hear creaks coming from the wall and possibly ceiling. If this was a wood floor and/or wood foundation I wouldn't be concerned. But this is all concrete. Is this creaking caused by water leaking under the foundation?
submitted by eccochild to HomeImprovement [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 20:31 Endertazer6802 Ore improvements should be a one time placing

I think it’s dumb how you need like 5 of each ore improvement to even build some of the structures in mass. (you need at least 2 of each to even build some structures shm) So I think you should only need to place one of each and then they have the same max as wood/stone therefore you can have more space for those improvements that take more than one tile (flames of creation, large flames of creation, expert mason, etc.) since you have a very limited area around improvement hubs to build and only 4 improvement hubs. Being able to summon 40+ troops is more important than ore need to be placed more shm.
submitted by Endertazer6802 to MinecraftLegends [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 20:21 Molayooooo What lvp/laminate would work for my kitchen that goes well with my greenish gray countertops?

What lvp/laminate would work for my kitchen that goes well with my greenish gray countertops?
I have a hardwood floors in most of the house and a really old nasty vinyl sheet in the kitchen and laundry (which are right next to each other). I want to put a new high quality vinyl plank/tile or laminate in. Real tile and wood are not options because I would need to adjust the subfloor level quite a bit.
What kind of floor works here? Whatvshoukd i avoid? I'm not sure i really like any of the options I posted. The countertops are not a true black/gray. I feel like the slight greenish hue makes a lot of floors clash.
Ignore the wainscoting because I will paint it white and will probably paint the walls a subdued color. I'm also considering putting a faux Moroccan tile backsplash for some color and design.
Open to all suggestions!
submitted by Molayooooo to InteriorDesign [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 20:08 mediamusing ☣️ Don't let Them touch You ☣️

I spend all of my daylight hours scared and alone in this musty old cellar.
It’s woeful, and I bet it smelled this bad even before everything around here turned to crap. Great. My second sentence and I’ve already resorted to swearing. When I decided I’d start this diary (five minutes ago when I got a tiny sliver of signal) I thought it would be my poetic and deeply-moving goodbye to the world. Maybe I’d write about love and loss, or maybe the splendour of nature. Then, when all is done and dusted, I’d have left something to be remembered by. As well as my corpse, of course.
This was a bad idea.
*
Okay, I’m an idiot. There’s nothing else I can do down here. I’ve rooted through every cardboard box a hundred times, organised and reorganised my supplies, I’ve even built a fort. So, I’m back. Hello. Again. God, this diary is going badly.
But there’s just enough light coming through the boards I nailed over the cellar’s tiny window to type by. So I may as well type. Stops me staring up at the window just waiting for a shadow to pass by.
Maybe I'll just write and not hit Submit. Right, where to start? Well, my name is – actually, I think I’m going to refer to myself as ‘X’. That sounds mysterious. If you’re reading this and want to know my real name, I still carry my purse. My railcard is in there and, if you really want to know who I am, go find me and fish it out. I won’t bite...
So, my name is X. I live in a little English village in the middle of nowhere. Before all this happened, I had a mum, a dad, a sister and there was a boy I liked, his name was Jonah.
*
I couldn’t think of anything else to write so I waited until I came back from my rounds. That’s the stupid name I have for when I go outside at night scrounging for stuff. Drinks are the hardest. I only trust bottles or cans, or did, and I was running out of places to search for them. But I guess that doesn’t matter now.
My leg is doing alright actually; didn’t hold me up at all. I saw Jonah too. He’s looked better, I have to say. It’s strange because this is only the second time I’ve seen him since we came here. Maybe his ears were burning.
Anyway, I found some tinned pineapple in a creepy old caravan I hadn’t searched yet. Had to bust the door open with Old Trusty – which I thought might attract some unwanted attention – but it was fine. I’m actually eating the pineapple right now, tastes good. I also found a radio in there. I already have three down here, but none of them work. Not that the caravan radio works either, all you get is static. It’s just nice to collect something. You know, to have a hobby.
*
I can tell the sun is rising. I managed to sleep for a couple of hours, but I woke up after a bad dream. I know some people can remember their dreams, but I never do. I wake up and grasp at them, but I never manage a hold before they fade away. It’s like trying to pinch the corner of a wisp of smoke; the harder you try, the quicker it fades to nothing. I’m just left with a sensation, a kind of imprint which sums up the most intense part of the dream.
And a cold sweat. That’s new.
*
I’ve been through the box of photo albums I found at the back of the cellar again. I’ve looked through them a few times now, but I always notice something new.
There’s a photo of this little girl playing with a pretend guitar. I can tell it’s pretend because it doesn’t have strings, only brightly-coloured plastic dials. Kind of like My First Guitar Hero or something. The girl has dark hair and she looks a tiny bit like my sister did a million years ago. I don’t have a picture of my sister. I suppose I could go and get one from my old house, but it’s right in the middle of the village. I’m lucky I wasn’t torn to shreds the last time I went back. So, what I’ve done is put this girl’s photo in my back pocket as a substitute.
I guess I should probably write something about my real sister now. But I don’t think that’s a good idea just yet.
*
Daylight is starting to fade and I’m getting ready to go out on my rounds. I always take my satchel with me, packed with useful objects. I have Old Trusty (a crowbar) which sticks out of the top for easy access, a small toolbox, a pair of heavy-duty gloves (there’s a good story about how I got those, I might write that one down later) and a hammer. I carry a penknife I found down here in my pocket, my purse and phone, and a torch in my hand.
I don’t like to use the torch because its battery is running out and there’s always the chance it might attract them. I probably shouldn’t have used it last night when I got back. Maybe I’m starting to enjoy this writing malarkey? I need to be careful with luxuries.
*
Okay, that could have gone better.
Picture the scene: I’m using Old Trusty to try and lever a kitchen window open, when one of them just walks right through the garden hedge. Seriously, straight through it. It’s not the mightiest of hedges but, still, it just appeared like it was walking through one of those Japanese paper walls. My satchel was on the ground, but I legged it anyway. I’m not stupid. I know I can go back for it tomorrow. I felt strangely naked without it on the way back here though.
Like I said before, I need to be careful with the torch so I think I’ll try and get some sleep now.
*
I slept pretty well last night; no nightmares or cold sweats. Maybe a midnight chase was just what I needed to blow away the cobwebs.
I actually woke up wondering about you. If you’re reading this, who are you? If you’re like me, living through this village nightmare, how have you managed to go this long without being killed or whatever? Maybe you’re Army or some such. Maybe you’re just some kid who’s played so many videogames that surviving all of this was already second nature to you. Or maybe you’re like me; living on borrowed time and searching for a good place to die. Maybe Future Me was brave enough to tap Submit on my diary and you're currently reading this on your phone or computer.
Here’s an idea. Maybe you can carry on this diary from wherever I left it at. God, I really hope this isn’t my last entry, although I suppose any entry might be. If you do carry the diary forwards, and I'm a corpse, maybe it will become cursed. Spooky.
*
I’ve been preparing for my next excursion.
If I know I’m going somewhere I’ll likely run into an ugly, I like to take extra precautions. And I want my satchel back. It was a present from my dad, and I know it cost him a lot of money.
So, I’m taking a pair of shears from the shelf of old tools down here. That way, if I lose Old Trusty, I’ll have a backup weapon.
If you are local, I wonder how you like to kill them? Pretty morbid question I know, but everyone around here seems to have their preferred method. The last villager I saw alive carried a pair of mini cricket bats and seemed to have bludgeoning down to an art form. He never saw me though, I was watching from a grove of trees as he killed his way along the main road near the village.
That was before I decided to stay inside during the daylight hours. We can at least see a little bit at night; ambient light and everything. They can’t though. I’ve seen them, they bump into things. It’s pretty funny to be honest. If they hear a noise, they walk in the direction of the sound, never trying to avoid any object in their path. They either bash said object out of the way, or, like that hedge, blunder right through it. Obviously bigger things stop them dead (ha!) though. If that happens, they sort of shuffle backwards and then try again a few times. Eventually – and I’ve seen this too – they just give up and stand there, waiting for something else to attract their attention.
That’s not how it works in the daytime though.
*
I think it’s about an hour before the sun sets so it’s nearly time to head out. I’m going to change my bandage. One minute.
Okay, it didn’t look that bad really. The original scratch wasn’t too deep and now the wound seems to be doing that scabbing thing I remember from normal injuries. It just doesn’t smell very good. A bit like when you walk past a bin that needs emptying.
Anyway, I’ve applied more antiseptic and redressed it. Time to go.
*
That was fun. I’m glad I had those shears with me.
I got my satchel back you’ll be happy to know. And I got inside that house I’d been trying to break into as well. More through necessity than choice in the end, but I’m pleased I did. I found more batteries! That means I can justify writing at night a bit more. In fact, the people who used to live there (I think the husband owned the local garage) were pretty well kitted out. There were a lot of tins in their cupboards, and they’d even left a shotgun. It wasn’t loaded though.
Not that I need a shotgun. I didn’t tell you this before, but I have my grandpa’s old service revolver. He always told me and my sister that it was decommissioned, but my dad apparently knew otherwise. I keep it tucked into the back of my jeans at all times. It had three bullets, one of them is gone, so only two left.
I’ll only be needing the one of course.
*
Morning. I’m feeling pretty low today. I think concentrating on getting my satchel back took my mind off things, but now I feel pretty deflated.
Surely that’s understandable? The village I knew and loved has been replaced with this sodding hell. I miss my family, my friends, TV and hot dinners and Instagram. Before all of this I was a pretty positive person. Sure, I had a bit of trouble getting up in the morning, but, once I was up, that was it. I’d meet the day’s challenges head on, try to enjoy myself as much as I could. Not today though.
Maybe if I write about Jonah I’ll cheer up. Not Jonah as he is now of course, Jonah when he was all smooth-skinned, curly-haired and bright-eyed. Now he’s like the anti-Jonah or something. His face looks like it lost a fight with an angry lobster. No, wait, I’m supposed to be writing about Jonah version one here.
He’s one of those people that I can’t remember meeting. My family has always lived around here and so there are lots of people who have just always been, if you get me. I always thought we would drunkenly get it together at a party – that’s what I’d usually do if there was a boy I liked. Classy.
*
I’ve perked up a bit. Out of sheer frustration I went upstairs (naughty, I know) and looked out of a window. Sure, I saw an ugly, wandering aimlessly as they always do, but I saw that the trees are starting to turn too. That means it’s nearly autumn, and I love autumn!
My sister and I always used to go out and kick leaves at each other in the autumn. I don’t know if it was because of her low centre of gravity, but my sister was amazing at it. She could somehow whip up a blazing whirlwind of golden-yellow and fire-red, surrounding us both in a leaf storm that I couldn’t help but flail my arms madly at. Then we’d both fall backwards into the leaves laughing, me wondering how on earth what had happened was possible. She was that good.
God, I let her down in the end.
*
I think I’ll stay away from the house with the shotgun tonight. It usually takes a day or two for a group of uglies to disperse once they’re all riled up. I could use the rest of that tinned food I suppose, but I’ve got plenty to be getting on with for now.
Instead, I think I’ll swing by another farmhouse I was scoping out before I decided to turn nocturnal. I never met the people who used to live there, but I remember Mum telling me they liked their privacy. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind me visiting now though.
Also, there’s a woodland between here and there and I might be able to find some leaves to kick about a bit. I think that would make me feel close to my sister again.
I’ll check back in later.
*
I’m still alive, but only just.
I made it through the woods just fine (only the odd leaf on the forest floor at the moment though, sadly), the trouble started at the farmhouse. I couldn’t get in – the doors and windows were barricaded – so I tried one of the outbuildings. Locked. It had a cat flap though.
My first instinct was to leave it, but then I wondered if there might be something useful inside. Lord knows what thinking about it now. I lifted the cat flap with one hand and shone the torch beam through with my other. That’s when an ugly dived at my pinkies. Luckily, it misjudged its leap and got a mouthful of plastic cat flap instead. As for me, I fell backwards onto my bum.
Next, the damn thing started bashing on the door from the inside. I don’t think it could ever have got out, but the noise attracted more uglies from out of nowhere. I only just managed to outmanoeuvre them and hightail it back into the woods.
That’s not the worst of it though. On the way back my leg started to hurt. A lot.
*
I woke up this morning and I’m walking with a limp. It’s funny, Dad had a limp when he and Mum died. He was nailing planks of wood across our windows and doors because there was no signal (as per bloody usual) and we thought that what was happening here was probably happening everywhere. It's only recently that I realised this was an isolated, local outbreak. Anyway, Dad dropped the hammer onto his toe, he always was useless at DIY. I think it was only a couple of hours after that when he and Mum were taken.
It was like a wave of death. No, not like, that’s exactly what it was. A hoard of uglies swept through the village, probably originating from the secret research facility in the woods we're not supposed to know about. My sister and I wouldn’t have had a prayer if Mum and Dad hadn’t charged down the first few that got into our house. They gave us just enough time to escape, to run away and leave them to die. My sister was screaming all the way and I had to drag her like she was four again.
She wouldn’t speak to me for a few days after that. I didn’t blame her, I hated myself too. But I would have hated myself even more if I hadn’t done what I did next. On my own, I snuck back into our house with the crowbar I found here. Then I dispatched my parents. I can’t bring myself to type it any other way. It wasn’t like in the movies, I didn’t pound their skulls into mush whilst sobbing, ‘Why?’ over and over again. I just found them, or what was left of them, forced the crowbar through each of their eye sockets, and came straight back here.
Then came the crying.
*
I haven’t told you about the heavy-duty gloves yet, have I?
After I got back from our old house, my sister started speaking to me again. A shared, day-long cry will do that for sisters. Once we felt up to it, we decided to explore the parts of the farmhouse we hadn’t searched yet. All the bedrooms were empty, only a few belongings flung about the place (I suspect the previous tenants left in a hurry). The problem came when we investigated the attic. Once we’d opened the ceiling panel in the upstairs hallway, once we’d pulled the compact staircase down, I went up. My sister stood at the top of the hatchway shining the torch beam over my shoulder. And that’s when it touched me. Terrified, I fell to my left, screaming as the thing came crashing down on top of me. I was yelling things like, ‘Shoot it!’ and, ‘Run!’ but my sister was just laughing her head off. I soon realised that my attacker was in fact a shop-window mannequin.
I think the people who previously lived here must have been arty (or into some seriously freaky stuff) because the mannequin was dressed in scarves, bandannas, ties, watches – loads of things. The rest of the attic was pretty empty but at least we got the mannequin’s gloves.
*
I’m not feeling good at the moment. I’ve got a sore throat and I’ve coughed up blood a couple of times. My leg pain is getting worse too.
I don’t think I’ll go out tonight. I have enough tins left and one of them is a Full English In A Can. Sounds pretty disgusting, but intriguing at the same time. I’ve been saving it for near the end. A sort of consolation prize.
*
There are two mattresses down here. Obviously one is mine, and the other one was my sister’s. After she died, I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it. I don’t have a photo of her, only Guitar Girl’s. Her bed is the only thing of hers I have left. And she didn’t even sleep in it that many times.
*
The tinned Full English was vile! You’ve got to laugh though, what else can you do?
*
I’m crying as I write this. Tears of sorrow, shame and regret.
It happened as we were searching a cottage just off of the main road. We’d used Old Trusty to get inside, and I’d rushed straight into the kitchen to find the food. We’d run out more than a day before and I was famished. My sister followed me into the kitchen, a wide grin on her pretty little face because I was sitting there with an open can of beans. Then one of them came at her from behind. I must have walked right past it on my stupid way to the cupboards. It bit into her neck and blood gushed over the tiles in a torrent. As she yelled out in agony, I leapt up and implanted the crowbar right into the thing’s skull. It crumpled to the floor, but the damage was done.
‘Don’t let me lose myself.’ That was the last thing my sister whispered to me before she passed out. Her wound was much more severe than mine is, and much closer to the brain. That seems to make it quicker. I took grandpa’s revolver from behind my back and blew her brains out.
I buried her in the back garden.
*
After my sister died I went kind of crazy. I took Old Trusty out across the fields and pulverised every ugly I could find. I don’t even remember it that well, it was just, find, kill, find, kill…
We’d only been going out in daylight before then but, in my anger, I carried on through the nights. That’s how I learned about their inability to evade in darkness. Eventually, though, one got me. I found three munching on a dead cow and ran straight at them. Took out the first two easily enough, but the third managed to scratch my leg with a bloody fingernail just before I clobbered it into oblivion. Once I realised its nail had broken the skin, it was like a switch had been flicked inside me. That’s it, I’m dead too. I lost my bloodlust and came back here.
*
If none of this had happened, I think my sister would have eventually gone into medicine. I was doing okay at College but she was top of her class at school. And she had a really kind nature too. She’d never squish any bugs that got trapped in our house; she’d get a glass, scoop the little critter up and seal it inside with a book. Then she’d take it outside and release it, even if it was a wasp.
*
I’ve decided that here’s not the place. I'll hit Submit and then I’m going to do it in those woods I wrote about; consider this diary as my Note. I’ll be able to find a nice spot to sit and look at the trees, some place that's calm and peaceful. I’m going to leave the picture of Guitar Girl in this cellar, she belongs in this house. The tree leaves will remind me of my sister more than any photo ever could anyway.
I guess all that’s left to say is thank you for listening.
I know it’s possible that no one will ever read this, but that’s not really the point is it?
Love,
X
submitted by mediamusing to HotelNonDormiunt [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 20:07 mediamusing ☣️ Don't let Them touch You ☣️

I spend all of my daylight hours scared and alone in this musty old cellar.
It’s woeful, and I bet it smelled this bad even before everything around here turned to crap. Great. My second sentence and I’ve already resorted to swearing. When I decided I’d start this diary (five minutes ago when I got a tiny sliver of signal) I thought it would be my poetic and deeply-moving goodbye to the world. Maybe I’d write about love and loss, or maybe the splendour of nature. Then, when all is done and dusted, I’d have left something to be remembered by. As well as my corpse, of course.
This was a bad idea.
*
Okay, I’m an idiot. There’s nothing else I can do down here. I’ve rooted through every cardboard box a hundred times, organised and reorganised my supplies, I’ve even built a fort. So, I’m back. Hello. Again. God, this diary is going badly.
But there’s just enough light coming through the boards I nailed over the cellar’s tiny window to type by. So I may as well type. Stops me staring up at the window just waiting for a shadow to pass by.
Maybe I'll just write and not hit Submit. Right, where to start? Well, my name is – actually, I think I’m going to refer to myself as ‘X’. That sounds mysterious. If you’re reading this and want to know my real name, I still carry my purse. My railcard is in there and, if you really want to know who I am, go find me and fish it out. I won’t bite...
So, my name is X. I live in a little English village in the middle of nowhere. Before all this happened, I had a mum, a dad, a sister and there was a boy I liked, his name was Jonah.
*
I couldn’t think of anything else to write so I waited until I came back from my rounds. That’s the stupid name I have for when I go outside at night scrounging for stuff. Drinks are the hardest. I only trust bottles or cans, or did, and I was running out of places to search for them. But I guess that doesn’t matter now.
My leg is doing alright actually; didn’t hold me up at all. I saw Jonah too. He’s looked better, I have to say. It’s strange because this is only the second time I’ve seen him since we came here. Maybe his ears were burning.
Anyway, I found some tinned pineapple in a creepy old caravan I hadn’t searched yet. Had to bust the door open with Old Trusty – which I thought might attract some unwanted attention – but it was fine. I’m actually eating the pineapple right now, tastes good. I also found a radio in there. I already have three down here, but none of them work. Not that the caravan radio works either, all you get is static. It’s just nice to collect something. You know, to have a hobby.
*
I can tell the sun is rising. I managed to sleep for a couple of hours, but I woke up after a bad dream. I know some people can remember their dreams, but I never do. I wake up and grasp at them, but I never manage a hold before they fade away. It’s like trying to pinch the corner of a wisp of smoke; the harder you try, the quicker it fades to nothing. I’m just left with a sensation, a kind of imprint which sums up the most intense part of the dream.
And a cold sweat. That’s new.
*
I’ve been through the box of photo albums I found at the back of the cellar again. I’ve looked through them a few times now, but I always notice something new.
There’s a photo of this little girl playing with a pretend guitar. I can tell it’s pretend because it doesn’t have strings, only brightly-coloured plastic dials. Kind of like My First Guitar Hero or something. The girl has dark hair and she looks a tiny bit like my sister did a million years ago. I don’t have a picture of my sister. I suppose I could go and get one from my old house, but it’s right in the middle of the village. I’m lucky I wasn’t torn to shreds the last time I went back. So, what I’ve done is put this girl’s photo in my back pocket as a substitute.
I guess I should probably write something about my real sister now. But I don’t think that’s a good idea just yet.
*
Daylight is starting to fade and I’m getting ready to go out on my rounds. I always take my satchel with me, packed with useful objects. I have Old Trusty (a crowbar) which sticks out of the top for easy access, a small toolbox, a pair of heavy-duty gloves (there’s a good story about how I got those, I might write that one down later) and a hammer. I carry a penknife I found down here in my pocket, my purse and phone, and a torch in my hand.
I don’t like to use the torch because its battery is running out and there’s always the chance it might attract them. I probably shouldn’t have used it last night when I got back. Maybe I’m starting to enjoy this writing malarkey? I need to be careful with luxuries.
*
Okay, that could have gone better.
Picture the scene: I’m using Old Trusty to try and lever a kitchen window open, when one of them just walks right through the garden hedge. Seriously, straight through it. It’s not the mightiest of hedges but, still, it just appeared like it was walking through one of those Japanese paper walls. My satchel was on the ground, but I legged it anyway. I’m not stupid. I know I can go back for it tomorrow. I felt strangely naked without it on the way back here though.
Like I said before, I need to be careful with the torch so I think I’ll try and get some sleep now.
*
I slept pretty well last night; no nightmares or cold sweats. Maybe a midnight chase was just what I needed to blow away the cobwebs.
I actually woke up wondering about you. If you’re reading this, who are you? If you’re like me, living through this village nightmare, how have you managed to go this long without being killed or whatever? Maybe you’re Army or some such. Maybe you’re just some kid who’s played so many videogames that surviving all of this was already second nature to you. Or maybe you’re like me; living on borrowed time and searching for a good place to die. Maybe Future Me was brave enough to tap Submit on my diary and you're currently reading this on your phone or computer.
Here’s an idea. Maybe you can carry on this diary from wherever I left it at. God, I really hope this isn’t my last entry, although I suppose any entry might be. If you do carry the diary forwards, and I'm a corpse, maybe it will become cursed. Spooky.
*
I’ve been preparing for my next excursion.
If I know I’m going somewhere I’ll likely run into an ugly, I like to take extra precautions. And I want my satchel back. It was a present from my dad, and I know it cost him a lot of money.
So, I’m taking a pair of shears from the shelf of old tools down here. That way, if I lose Old Trusty, I’ll have a backup weapon.
If you are local, I wonder how you like to kill them? Pretty morbid question I know, but everyone around here seems to have their preferred method. The last villager I saw alive carried a pair of mini cricket bats and seemed to have bludgeoning down to an art form. He never saw me though, I was watching from a grove of trees as he killed his way along the main road near the village.
That was before I decided to stay inside during the daylight hours. We can at least see a little bit at night; ambient light and everything. They can’t though. I’ve seen them, they bump into things. It’s pretty funny to be honest. If they hear a noise, they walk in the direction of the sound, never trying to avoid any object in their path. They either bash said object out of the way, or, like that hedge, blunder right through it. Obviously bigger things stop them dead (ha!) though. If that happens, they sort of shuffle backwards and then try again a few times. Eventually – and I’ve seen this too – they just give up and stand there, waiting for something else to attract their attention.
That’s not how it works in the daytime though.
*
I think it’s about an hour before the sun sets so it’s nearly time to head out. I’m going to change my bandage. One minute.
Okay, it didn’t look that bad really. The original scratch wasn’t too deep and now the wound seems to be doing that scabbing thing I remember from normal injuries. It just doesn’t smell very good. A bit like when you walk past a bin that needs emptying.
Anyway, I’ve applied more antiseptic and redressed it. Time to go.
*
That was fun. I’m glad I had those shears with me.
I got my satchel back you’ll be happy to know. And I got inside that house I’d been trying to break into as well. More through necessity than choice in the end, but I’m pleased I did. I found more batteries! That means I can justify writing at night a bit more. In fact, the people who used to live there (I think the husband owned the local garage) were pretty well kitted out. There were a lot of tins in their cupboards, and they’d even left a shotgun. It wasn’t loaded though.
Not that I need a shotgun. I didn’t tell you this before, but I have my grandpa’s old service revolver. He always told me and my sister that it was decommissioned, but my dad apparently knew otherwise. I keep it tucked into the back of my jeans at all times. It had three bullets, one of them is gone, so only two left.
I’ll only be needing the one of course.
*
Morning. I’m feeling pretty low today. I think concentrating on getting my satchel back took my mind off things, but now I feel pretty deflated.
Surely that’s understandable? The village I knew and loved has been replaced with this sodding hell. I miss my family, my friends, TV and hot dinners and Instagram. Before all of this I was a pretty positive person. Sure, I had a bit of trouble getting up in the morning, but, once I was up, that was it. I’d meet the day’s challenges head on, try to enjoy myself as much as I could. Not today though.
Maybe if I write about Jonah I’ll cheer up. Not Jonah as he is now of course, Jonah when he was all smooth-skinned, curly-haired and bright-eyed. Now he’s like the anti-Jonah or something. His face looks like it lost a fight with an angry lobster. No, wait, I’m supposed to be writing about Jonah version one here.
He’s one of those people that I can’t remember meeting. My family has always lived around here and so there are lots of people who have just always been, if you get me. I always thought we would drunkenly get it together at a party – that’s what I’d usually do if there was a boy I liked. Classy.
*
I’ve perked up a bit. Out of sheer frustration I went upstairs (naughty, I know) and looked out of a window. Sure, I saw an ugly, wandering aimlessly as they always do, but I saw that the trees are starting to turn too. That means it’s nearly autumn, and I love autumn!
My sister and I always used to go out and kick leaves at each other in the autumn. I don’t know if it was because of her low centre of gravity, but my sister was amazing at it. She could somehow whip up a blazing whirlwind of golden-yellow and fire-red, surrounding us both in a leaf storm that I couldn’t help but flail my arms madly at. Then we’d both fall backwards into the leaves laughing, me wondering how on earth what had happened was possible. She was that good.
God, I let her down in the end.
*
I think I’ll stay away from the house with the shotgun tonight. It usually takes a day or two for a group of uglies to disperse once they’re all riled up. I could use the rest of that tinned food I suppose, but I’ve got plenty to be getting on with for now.
Instead, I think I’ll swing by another farmhouse I was scoping out before I decided to turn nocturnal. I never met the people who used to live there, but I remember Mum telling me they liked their privacy. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind me visiting now though.
Also, there’s a woodland between here and there and I might be able to find some leaves to kick about a bit. I think that would make me feel close to my sister again.
I’ll check back in later.
*
I’m still alive, but only just.
I made it through the woods just fine (only the odd leaf on the forest floor at the moment though, sadly), the trouble started at the farmhouse. I couldn’t get in – the doors and windows were barricaded – so I tried one of the outbuildings. Locked. It had a cat flap though.
My first instinct was to leave it, but then I wondered if there might be something useful inside. Lord knows what thinking about it now. I lifted the cat flap with one hand and shone the torch beam through with my other. That’s when an ugly dived at my pinkies. Luckily, it misjudged its leap and got a mouthful of plastic cat flap instead. As for me, I fell backwards onto my bum.
Next, the damn thing started bashing on the door from the inside. I don’t think it could ever have got out, but the noise attracted more uglies from out of nowhere. I only just managed to outmanoeuvre them and hightail it back into the woods.
That’s not the worst of it though. On the way back my leg started to hurt. A lot.
*
I woke up this morning and I’m walking with a limp. It’s funny, Dad had a limp when he and Mum died. He was nailing planks of wood across our windows and doors because there was no signal (as per bloody usual) and we thought that what was happening here was probably happening everywhere. It's only recently that I realised this was an isolated, local outbreak. Anyway, Dad dropped the hammer onto his toe, he always was useless at DIY. I think it was only a couple of hours after that when he and Mum were taken.
It was like a wave of death. No, not like, that’s exactly what it was. A hoard of uglies swept through the village, probably originating from the secret research facility in the woods we're not supposed to know about. My sister and I wouldn’t have had a prayer if Mum and Dad hadn’t charged down the first few that got into our house. They gave us just enough time to escape, to run away and leave them to die. My sister was screaming all the way and I had to drag her like she was four again.
She wouldn’t speak to me for a few days after that. I didn’t blame her, I hated myself too. But I would have hated myself even more if I hadn’t done what I did next. On my own, I snuck back into our house with the crowbar I found here. Then I dispatched my parents. I can’t bring myself to type it any other way. It wasn’t like in the movies, I didn’t pound their skulls into mush whilst sobbing, ‘Why?’ over and over again. I just found them, or what was left of them, forced the crowbar through each of their eye sockets, and came straight back here.
Then came the crying.
*
I haven’t told you about the heavy-duty gloves yet, have I?
After I got back from our old house, my sister started speaking to me again. A shared, day-long cry will do that for sisters. Once we felt up to it, we decided to explore the parts of the farmhouse we hadn’t searched yet. All the bedrooms were empty, only a few belongings flung about the place (I suspect the previous tenants left in a hurry). The problem came when we investigated the attic. Once we’d opened the ceiling panel in the upstairs hallway, once we’d pulled the compact staircase down, I went up. My sister stood at the top of the hatchway shining the torch beam over my shoulder. And that’s when it touched me. Terrified, I fell to my left, screaming as the thing came crashing down on top of me. I was yelling things like, ‘Shoot it!’ and, ‘Run!’ but my sister was just laughing her head off. I soon realised that my attacker was in fact a shop-window mannequin.
I think the people who previously lived here must have been arty (or into some seriously freaky stuff) because the mannequin was dressed in scarves, bandannas, ties, watches – loads of things. The rest of the attic was pretty empty but at least we got the mannequin’s gloves.
*
I’m not feeling good at the moment. I’ve got a sore throat and I’ve coughed up blood a couple of times. My leg pain is getting worse too.
I don’t think I’ll go out tonight. I have enough tins left and one of them is a Full English In A Can. Sounds pretty disgusting, but intriguing at the same time. I’ve been saving it for near the end. A sort of consolation prize.
*
There are two mattresses down here. Obviously one is mine, and the other one was my sister’s. After she died, I couldn’t bring myself to get rid of it. I don’t have a photo of her, only Guitar Girl’s. Her bed is the only thing of hers I have left. And she didn’t even sleep in it that many times.
*
The tinned Full English was vile! You’ve got to laugh though, what else can you do?
*
I’m crying as I write this. Tears of sorrow, shame and regret.
It happened as we were searching a cottage just off of the main road. We’d used Old Trusty to get inside, and I’d rushed straight into the kitchen to find the food. We’d run out more than a day before and I was famished. My sister followed me into the kitchen, a wide grin on her pretty little face because I was sitting there with an open can of beans. Then one of them came at her from behind. I must have walked right past it on my stupid way to the cupboards. It bit into her neck and blood gushed over the tiles in a torrent. As she yelled out in agony, I leapt up and implanted the crowbar right into the thing’s skull. It crumpled to the floor, but the damage was done.
‘Don’t let me lose myself.’ That was the last thing my sister whispered to me before she passed out. Her wound was much more severe than mine is, and much closer to the brain. That seems to make it quicker. I took grandpa’s revolver from behind my back and blew her brains out.
I buried her in the back garden.
*
After my sister died I went kind of crazy. I took Old Trusty out across the fields and pulverised every ugly I could find. I don’t even remember it that well, it was just, find, kill, find, kill…
We’d only been going out in daylight before then but, in my anger, I carried on through the nights. That’s how I learned about their inability to evade in darkness. Eventually, though, one got me. I found three munching on a dead cow and ran straight at them. Took out the first two easily enough, but the third managed to scratch my leg with a bloody fingernail just before I clobbered it into oblivion. Once I realised its nail had broken the skin, it was like a switch had been flicked inside me. That’s it, I’m dead too. I lost my bloodlust and came back here.
*
If none of this had happened, I think my sister would have eventually gone into medicine. I was doing okay at College but she was top of her class at school. And she had a really kind nature too. She’d never squish any bugs that got trapped in our house; she’d get a glass, scoop the little critter up and seal it inside with a book. Then she’d take it outside and release it, even if it was a wasp.
*
I’ve decided that here’s not the place. I'll hit Submit and then I’m going to do it in those woods I wrote about; consider this diary as my Note. I’ll be able to find a nice spot to sit and look at the trees, some place that's calm and peaceful. I’m going to leave the picture of Guitar Girl in this cellar, she belongs in this house. The tree leaves will remind me of my sister more than any photo ever could anyway.
I guess all that’s left to say is thank you for listening.
I know it’s possible that no one will ever read this, but that’s not really the point is it?
Love,
X
submitted by mediamusing to JustNotRight [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 19:09 Marsupoil Before/after: a small Parisian bathroom

Before/after: a small Parisian bathroom
We just finished this project to redo entirely our very small bathroom , from design to reality. Quite happy about the results, we wanted a luxury vibe with the marble but also relaxing with the wood effect tiles. Also my partner is Japanese so it was important culturally to have some divider between toilets and the bath, and of course Japanese toilets..! Hope you like it
submitted by Marsupoil to AmateurInteriorDesign [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 18:36 AmateurSparky [OPEN DISCUSSION] Weekly thread

Welcome to the (roughly weekly) Open Discussion thread.
 
We have this discussion thread for a few reasons. We know some people are a bit shy to create a whole new post for a small question they may have, so this is a good place to start. Or, we've learned some tips and tricks to share with the community. This is the place to to to that.
 
As a growing community we find ourselves having to limit the posts that may be off-topic to the primary purpose of the sub of 1) home improvement questions and 2) sharing of completed projects. These topics include home warranty companies, household tips, general painting advice, room layouts, or rants about companies, contractors, and previous owners. While these may be of interest, we are trying hard to provide a venue that will both allow, and constrain, the conversation. Again, the main goal here is to help homeowners with their homes. Thus, this thread. Thank you for participating.
 
If you have questions about the recently passed Inflation Reduction Act please post them here as well. The Department of Treasury has also created this FAQ page regarding the bill that may answer some of your questions.
 
If you haven’t already, please review the sub guidelines. Also a reminder to stay away from any personal or disrespectful commentary. From the sidebar:
Comments must be on-topic, helpful, and kind. Name-calling, abusive, or hateful language is not tolerated, nor are disrespectful, personal comments. No question is too stupid, too simple, or too basic. We're all here to learn and help each other out - enjoy!
 

Note it may take a few days for you to get a response, please be patient.

 
Our sidebar topics:
Air Conditioning Tips
Asbestos FAQ a.k.a. Am I going to die?
Doors AMA
Doors, Sliding patio
Hiring a contractor?
Home Maintenance wiki
Home Utilities 101
How much will it cost? aka Always get 3 Quotes!
Load-bearing Walls
Radon Mitigation AMA
Tile and Stone AMA
Tiling, A Guide
Windows AMA
Windows Part 2
FAQ: My First Home Toolbox
submitted by AmateurSparky to HomeImprovement [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 18:23 DesertCloak Silicone instead of grout on patio tiles?

I'm going to be tiling my patio and pool deck with porcelain tiles. I'm considering using 100% silicone to grout the tiles rather than standard grout because it's flexible and waterproof, and possibly easier to clean. I live in Arizona, and the desert sun UV is very harsh. Other than the cost of silicone, are there any downsides to this approach?
submitted by DesertCloak to Tile [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 18:06 MohnJaddenPowers Can this wall/ceiling fan be installed on the decorative wood ceiling of an enclosed patio?

I'm looking at a small oscillating fan like this one to help create a breeze in my louver-enclosed patio. I'd want to mount it from the ceiling in a corner since the wall is just aluminum siding. The ceiling in this case is wood paneling, like this. Would I need to have anything special done to install the mount bracket or could I just drill it in?
I'm also assuming that older 1950s/1960s enclosed patios would allow for some room to run electrical wiring to the switch, but I'll be getting an estimate from an electrician before I do any installs.
submitted by MohnJaddenPowers to HomeImprovement [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 16:52 Slaughter4Fun Looking for a bloxburg builder for my house (will need a MM)

My budget is 140k and I will pay 4K to 16K depending on how well the job is done
What I am looking for is as follows
Colors: Baby Pink, White, & Gold
Exterior design: * Large French Country Style
Exterior features:
Lighting: * Beautiful Chandeliers
Kitchen must haves:
Pantry:
Dining room:
Laundry room:
Mud Space near front door: * Lockers for each family member
Master Bedroom:
Master closet: * Large Walk in closet
Master bathroom: * Toilets
Garage: * Recycling Center with 2 trash cans
Other: * Bar
submitted by Slaughter4Fun to crosstradingroblox [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 15:16 BroMandi [Home Depot] 5-Piece Hampton Bay Lakehaven Dark Grey Wood Patio Conversation Set w/ CushionGuard Earth Brown Cushions $523 + Free Shipping [Deal: $523.00, Actual: $1,493.90]

[Home Depot] 5-Piece Hampton Bay Lakehaven Dark Grey Wood Patio Conversation Set w/ CushionGuard Earth Brown Cushions $523 + Free Shipping [Deal: $523.00, Actual: $1,493.90] submitted by BroMandi to ShoppingDealsOnline [link] [comments]

2023.06.01 14:27 ivegotthistoday Found 1000 dead bugs all over my wood deck patio furniture this morning

Found 1000 dead bugs all over my wood deck patio furniture this morning
Basically the title. The wings are longer than the body. The body doesn’t have sections like an ant. If it’s termites and this swarm died outside my house, does it mean I have a termite problem?
submitted by ivegotthistoday to whatisthisbug [link] [comments]