I’m growing some cucumbers, green beans and peppers in a raised bed. I started the seeds in a small pot and transplanted to the bed as they got bigger. When I started the seeds though, I just put about 3 seeds in each hole and let them grow. As I now realize this may not have been the smartest thing to do, I did not think about this when I started. If you put 3 seeds in a hole and all of them grow, great! Right? I did not separate the seedlings into single plants. My question is these plants are about 12 inches tall now, they look great and very healthy. But there’s multiple plants growing out of a single hole, is this going to affect production at all? Is there anything I can do now to fix this if I need to or is it too late? Help!

So I neglected to consider a few aspects when building my raised garden bed, and had to relocate it. To save materials, I am using the same panels, and moved them over already. The garden stayed upright on its own though, and gives a cool view of the layers. Also notice the beautiful mycelium because I chose logs with some in them
Side note.. cilantro and parsley aren’t doing great. Anyone know why? I’m in São Paulo region. It’s winter but days can be 24C or 75F

I hope this is the right place and someone can tell me what may have been going on in my village. I moved here a few weeks ago. It's a small village in the heart of Russia and my parents and I came here because things start to get really bad in Moscow and my father lost his job. I don't know why we had to move to this isolated village, so far away from civilization. Maybe my parents wanted peace and quiet? To escape the things in that city, the poisoned minds?
The houses here had all been far below average in price. Almost everyone who lives here has moved here recently.
But, there are crazy rumors about this village that people tell each other. It was found abandoned in the mid-nineties. Where everyone went, no one knows. They say that no signs of people were found at all, nothing. But... everywhere in and around the village… strange patches of earth had been discovered, circular and smooth. Not only in the forest or on the road, but also in the dilapidated wooden houses. At our new neighbors' house, one of the mysterious spots had supposedly been found right in the living room floor, where the floorboards had been just cut away.
These rumors scare me. I am afraid of this village. But yesterday... I was redoing the floor in my room with my father and there... I found a notebook under the old boards. I hid it from my father, I don't know why... Someone must have left it there.
Last night... that's when I read it. I read it and now I'm incredibly afraid of this house and this village. Of the fields and the woods that surround me. The notebook apparently belonged to someone called Ilya Vasiliev. I have tried to translate what he wrote, hoping that someone here can help me find an explanation for the rumors. For this uneasy feeling that I have since I moved here...
***********
I am fine. I want that to be clear from the beginning. My story is strange and in huge parts troubling, but I am still in the best state of mental health.
I am fine!
My story begins seven months ago, in December 1979, when deep winter was upon our village. We were preparing for Christmas, the first Christmas to be celebrated publicly throughout the village, after years of having to practice our faith in secret because the Soviet government did not allow religions. Only in the last few years did the Reds' view loosen and they allowed small islands of faith. One of them was my village, which finally dared to celebrate and praise the Lord.
I have been a believer all twenty years of my life, an exemplary Christian, just like my parents. Faith had kept our family line alive in times of terror and misery. Death had always been close to us, as the fields where most of the population of our village had worked for generations had once brought the end of hundreds of people. Many years ago, on those fields, atrocities had occurred that had finally given them their present name: The Fields of Death.
I myself had not been born back then, not by a long shot, but my grandparents had spent their childhood there, a childhood full of hunger and depravity. My grandfather Fomenko often told me and my sister the stories he had experienced and how faith had saved everyone. There had been a long, cold winter and the grain had been confiscated by the government to be taken to the cities for distribution. After all, the grain belonged to all the people, not just those on the farms who planted it, tended to it, and harvested it. And so, the only food of that time left my grandfather's village and never came back. Some of his neighbors had once tried to hold back some grain, to hide some sacks, but when they were caught, a hail of bullets determined their fate. People lived in fear, not daring to stop working, not daring to keep for themselves the food that was destined for the common good. In those days, horrors happened in my village that I cannot truly picture today, not even when I hear my grandfather's usually clear voice begin to tremble. When I see in his eyes that he would rather forget, in order to experience a peaceful sleep once again… someday.
He told us about those horrors to warn us of how quickly life can plunge from safety into infinite terror. Winter had reigned. The grain was being hauled away. They still shot all those who tried to keep back pieces of it, be it a sack or some husks that had fallen from a cart. In time, hunger began to drive people in our village insane. Parents locked up their children so they wouldn't be taken by neighbors to feed their hunger. Friends turned their backs on each other and killed each other in fights for the last livestock that was still breathing. The streets reeked of decay and death, of misery and suffering. One day, my grandfather told us, he had hidden in the back room of his house while his parents dragged themselves, emaciated, to the fields to pick the last scraps of grain from the furrows with their dirty, half-frozen fingers. He had come across a book there, a book that had saved his life.
The word of God. An old Bible.
My grandfather had learned to read at an early age, one of the sad advantages of living in the Soviet Union.
It was in the room I now live in that Grandfather Fomenko had found the dusty book. Actually, he had been looking for something to eat, the days before he had found some sawdust. But despite his hunger and the grumbling in his stomach, eating the book was out of the question. Books were sacred, and no book as sacred as this one. He had begun to read and learned about the greatness of the Lord. Of the miracles his Son had performed. And of the magic of faith. His stomach had growled, but he had ignored it. The words gave him comfort.
The next day he immersed himself in the book again, disappearing into better worlds and times, hearing wisdom and encouragement. But around noon there was a knock at the door. My grandfather emphasized each time that he had not been afraid, that he had known that the Lord would protect him, when the old neighbor gained entrance to our house armed with a cleaver. It was clear what he wanted: Meat. My grandfather told us each time about how the neighbor had looked more undead than human, stinking and with sunken eyes, smelling like death from his mouth, the cleaver trembling in his hand.
"I'm sorry, boy," was all the man could get out.
My grandfather tried to mimic this poor man’s voice at the end of his wits, to express his pain through words so that we understood that poor fellow a little.
The Lord's words had given courage to my grandfather in his most terrible moments. He had stood up and firmly said:
"Away with you, the Lord protects the inhabitants of this house!"
But the intruder did not care, coming closer. And so, my grandfather again sought comfort and prayed. He prayed for mercy and peace and for his life. He would serve the Lord for the rest of his days. Trust Him blindly.
Suddenly, like a gruesome miracle, the famished intruder let out an inhuman groan and collapsed, lifeless and debilitated. There had been no hunger for my grandfather and his family for a week after that. My grandfather had been praying to the Lord since that day, thanking Him for His mercy. The story spread around the village and out of desperation or hope, in the next few days everyone secretly knelt in front of small wooden crosses they had made themselves and prayed to the Lord. A week later, like a miracle, the long-awaited delivery of grain arrived, along with spring. There had not been another bad time since then.
These events are the reason for the faith in our village... and our family. The psalm my grandfather had prayed as the hungry neighbor attacked had become the guiding psalm of our faith. All these years we had not been able to celebrate Christmas with the other families, but since the restrictions on faith communities had been relaxed, we had all finally decided to celebrate the holy festival in the village square. And so, we started the preparations.
There, in those evening hours, my part of the story begins. I and my younger sister Zarina, together with other youths and young adults, were fetching wood for the fire that was to burn in the center of our village. So, we went out into the night, dressed with thick pelts, to fetch logs from the edge of the fields that some men had prepared.
My breath could be seen as an icy breeze in the dawning darkness and I was already looking forward to dancing around the fire with everyone later, drinking good drinks and eating sumptuously. I was glad that we didn't have to walk across the fields themselves, but could stroll along their edge to get the logs.
You can feel death when it has hit a place. I was glad that I didn't have to work the fields myself, and had learned the carpentry trade. Therefore, I was spared from having to wander around there every day, among the echoes of past atrocities and sadness.
We were all in good spirits, strolling over the muddy ground, when all at once Zarina pointed up and into the clear night sky.
"Look, an angel is descending!" she exclaimed excitedly.
We all looked to where her outstretched hand pointed. A round light glowed in the night sky, glaring yellowish and shining strangely cold.
"It's singing! At Christmas! The Lord puts our feast under his sign!" Zarina cried.
We stopped and listened into the silence of the night. At first, I could hear nothing, at first, everything remained quiet, and only the distant beating of axes and the rustling of the wind in the treetops were audible.
But then, there in the wind, I could hear it, briefly but clearly. It was a kind of melodic whisper, joyful, yet also strange and otherworldly. It was heard only very briefly, and soon died away as the glow flew out of sight and disappeared somewhere far away.
"Let's go find the angel! Let's..." Zarina cried, continuing excitedly, but I interrupted her.
"We have to get the wood. We can report back to the village later, if it hasn't already been noticed there too," I said.
"You heard the singing! Surely that was an angel. Shall we leave it there? It may have gotten hurt, it must have hit something!" Sasha murmured.
Sasha was my oldest friend and one of the boys who worked on the fields. He had always been very caring and had always tried to help where he could. His parents were long dead and the old lady who had raised him was no longer around, either. So, he struggled along, working the fields, but the rest of us looked out for him.
"Shouldn't we go and look for it, Ilya?", Sasha continued to urge me anxiously.
We thought about it for a long time but decided to leave the decision to the others in the village. Trusting the Lord to guide our actions, we quickly moved on in the direction of the woodcutters to complete our task.
We were not the only ones who had seen the glow. When we returned to the village square loaded with logs, everyone was in great excitement and full of joy that the Lord had sent us this sign of His greatness. Not everyone agreed whether it was an angel or a return of the poinsettia that had been witnessed, but everyone was sure that the Lord had sent us encouragement. So, we celebrated our first Christmas full of joy and pleasure, with good food, dancing and singing, full of happiness and under the protection of the Almighty Lord. I will always think back to those days, always keep in my heart how I glimpsed a part of the Lord in the sky.
We all talked about the event and even the older people were fascinated and inspired. Even my grandfather and the others who had witnessed the worst death and misery in the world seemed to slowly find a spiritual peace they would never have dreamed of otherwise. They were happy and strengthened in their faith. However, we were not sure if it had really been an angel who had come down and so we hesitated to go and look for the creature of God.
But in the night, after the light had shone in the sky, I was awakened by Zarina crying in her sleep. I straightened up and slowly paced over to her bed, where in the semi-darkness she began to squirm, shaken by spasms.
"No, no, no..." she moaned painfully.
I began to shake her to wake her up. Zarina did not respond to me. Her face was like a distorted mask hiding something bad underneath. Her breathing became shallow, and she began to whimper. I was terrified and began to pray. The Lord had to save her, He just had to save her!
Zarina twitched more and more, started coughing and whimpering louder and louder. Slowly, the rest of the family woke up and my parents and grandfather huddled tightly around her, praying for her to open her eyes.
"Please, don't take our child! She has only been in your world for fourteen years..." my father cried, as panicked and desperate as I had ever seen before.
His thick, black mustache trembled with fear.
Then, abruptly, Zarina stopped convulsing.
For a terrible moment she just lay there, her hair disheveled, her face pale in the glow of the candle my mother held over her.
"Mom, Dad, Ilya, Grandpa... what's wrong?" she suddenly asked sleepily.
For a moment it was as if nothing had happened, as if I hadn't just seen my sister almost die, but then she began to cry.
"What's wrong, dear?" my father asked, just as pale in the face as Zarina.
It took a while before she found some calm and was able to talk to us.
Finally, she croaked:
"I saw the angel. I was with him."
A revelation? Had the Lord touched my sister?
We all said another prayer and finally, filled with awe, I asked:
"Where did you see the angel? Is it here? With us?"
She looked at me briefly, seemed to hesitate for a little moment, and then reported:
"I was with it… in a dream. It was in a white village, a village made of angel dust. I saw it. It didn't have wings and that's why at first I wasn't sure if it was an angel. However, soon it spoke to me."
"What did it say, Zarina?", I asked tensely.
"It said it was not God, but 'the Witness'. It sounded like a man and a woman and a child and a baby and... It felt peaceful. Calm and carefree. Then I woke up."
"An angel. Angels are the witnesses of God, that's how it must be!" my father said enthusiastically.
Suddenly, everyone seemed to be talking at once.
No one knew what Zarina's words meant, but we were sure that they contained something incomprehensible that we, as ordinary people, could not understand. But everyone was delighted. Everyone was caught in a beautiful dream.
The next day, the adults sat together in the large barn near the edge of the village, which was used for community events. Most of them found seats on the lined up wooden benches and the rest stood crowded against the old walls, some of which were already rotten. Dimitri, probably the closest thing to a mayor, sat at a heavy pine table at the end of the room, staring at the crowd, while my parents and Zarina sat on old chairs in front of him. Tensely, the crowd looked at them, waiting for someone to say something. Finally, Dimitri cleared his throat thoughtfully.
"You... all saw or heard about the falling star. It was brighter than the others that keep crossing our sky and much more... melodic. Some even heard the singing. Whoever still doubted that the Lord sent us his messenger... doubts are now useless. Zarina has received a vision. She has seen how the angel, who was sent by God, walked on our earth, and visited a village and consecrated it with its grace. She has seen the angel marching to spread holiness in these lands..."
"Are we sure?"
Mary, the dressmaker, had stood up. She was still young, my age and Sasha's, and she always wore her blond hair carefully braided, her dresses self-made, blood red and flashy, with silver embroidery. As always, she wore makeup - a luxury not many could afford. In other places she would have been considered a lady, but she was also a skeptical person, and I had not liked her very much since childhood, because she often made insinuations that seemed to go against the Lord. Also, she had never played with us outside and had always thought of herself as someone… better. I was shocked that she now so obviously doubted the Lord's actions.
"Mary. Zarina has seen a vision. The Lord spoke to her through her dreams! An angel has joined us. How can you deny it?" my father asked coldly.
"I'm not denying it, I'm just saying, what if there is something dark that the angel was sent to fight? What if it is going into battle against some unknown evil? The angel may be spreading sanctities, but we have no idea if it is trying to redeem us or defend us..."
"It said it was a witness of God," I noted.
"That's what Zarina said when she woke up."
"Then it is benevolent to us! We must find it!" someone shouted from one of the back rows.
An excited murmur began to spread through the room.
"Silence!" Dimitri thundered.
His face looked hard but determined.
"We have to get to it! If it is a message from heaven that the angel wants to bring us, we must hear it! How many can we spare? Who would even want to voluntarily leave the village? We don't know how long the journey will be, and you yourselves know how dangerous this area can be..."
A loud commotion broke out. Everyone shouted at once and volunteered. I also jumped up and loudly offered to go out to look for it.
The angel. The Witness of the Lord.
I imagined meeting it in a clearing, under a full moon. Hearing its bright voice, gaze in awe at its graceful form, and fall to my knees in prayer before it.
"SILENCE!" Dimitri shouted.
"You can't all go. The kids wouldn't make it in the deadly cold out there. Let seven go. Seven is the Lord's number, there must be seven! Seven workers from the fields! We can't spare any more!"
"You can't be serious!" I cried out.
Cold anger boiled up inside me.
"I want to go, too. We all want to. You can't just stand there and make a decision like that!"
Others joined in.
"SILENCE," Alexeij now thundered, the master blacksmith.
"We need you! Daniil, Ilya, Nikita, you have a job to do! We can't get by without you! You can't go, be reasonable!"
"But if the Lord wills it, he will make sure that everything here will work out. That nothing will happen!", I tried to argue, still boiling with anger.
"No. Winter is tugging at our huts, we need you," my father said slowly.
"So do the others. Without you, it's going to be tight. The fields lie under the snow, but everything else will be weakened by time and storms. We can only spare the field hands. Besides, they're the ones most likely to withstand the cold and the wilderness; after all, they're constantly out on the Fields of Death, toiling in the wind and rain. They'll all make the trip!"
I tried to change his mind, and several came to my aid, all those who were also forced to stay.
"You can manage without a dressmaker! I want to go too!" Mary cried defiantly, her cheeks red with anger, her nose wrinkled.
This young woman really believed she deserved the sight of the angel! She really believed her hypocrisies would deceive the Lord, despite her obvious doubts about His divinity!
Others also complained, young and old, many who didn't deserve to go and even those who did.
But it didn't help.
Dimitri was in charge. Everyone knew that. If we started to contradict him, our village would soon end up in chaos. And deep down I knew that I had to stay. That I had to take care of my sister, who would not survive a trip in the snow. That I had to repair the huts that the storms would eat away at.
Sasha was a field worker, he was allowed to go. Sasha and Sofia, Anatoly and old Igor, Ivan and Yulia and Mikhail. When the decision was made, a decision many of us accepted only with heavy hearts and which brought out deep envy in several faces, some of the chosen ones began to cry. They were happy, fulfilled... satisfied. They would see the messenger of the Lord, hear its melodious voice, sing its hymns.
Why wasn't I allowed to go? Why was the world so unfair? I had always believed in the Lord, prayed to Him, been subject to Him and lived according to His will. Why hadn't he chosen me to see his messenger? I had been so proud back when I had been allowed to learn the carpenter's trade and thus had not to go to the Fields of Death to toil there. At that time, I had felt like someone better when I saw Sasha and Sofia setting out early in the morning with all the other workers, with their old-fashioned plows and thick, shabby clothes.
Was this the punishment for my arrogance?
The Lord knew everything. He had seen what repulsive thoughts I had had, how superior I had felt to the others. Perhaps it was my punishment that I was not allowed to go. Perhaps the Lord was no longer favorable to me and I would have to prove myself to Him.
The next day, the seven set out north. They were seen off with singing and dancing; they were the center of the village’s attention. Envy threatened to drown me.
Why not me? Why wasn't I allowed to go? Why did I have to stay here?
And I knew: it was because of these thoughts. I wasn't pure enough. I had to get better, work on myself.
As the others disappeared from sight, as the small group seemed to be swallowed up by a patch of forest between distant trees, an icy chill ran down my spine.
What if they really did encounter evil? What if Mary had been right?
I prayed to the Lord that they would return home safely: Even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.
He would bring them home safely, our pilgrims. I did not begrudge them their happiness. I was not a selfish person, was not complacent like Mary or some others in the village. I lived by the word of the Lord and I would not begrudge them.
They would all return home safely.
I continued to stare into the distance for a long time as my suppressed envy sought to consume me. But I was winning.
For darkness is as light to you.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Even though the days and weeks passed, I never forgot to think of all those who had set out to witness the glory of the Lord. The cold winter had passed and frost and cold left the land, so that soon we could begin to prepare the fields for sowing. Since the sighting of the angel had caused us to let some of the farm workers leave, and they stayed away longer than we had expected, I had to join others in helping to plow the Fields of Death. The work was exhausting and made me physically very tired, since I still had to work in the carpenter's shop as well. We could not afford tractors, so we still had to resort to older tools. So, it happened that one day I was driving one of the hand plows through the dirty ground and was lost in my thoughts and full of sweat.
I was quite far away from the village, as the nearby surroundings had been worked shortly after the beginning of the thaw. The fields were extensive, partly reaching further than the eye could see. Only in one direction the dense forest extended, which introduced the beginning of a dark hilly landscape, that finally merged northward into high, alien mountains, whose white peaks rose high into the sky and, like once the tower of Babel, blasphemously tried to penetrate the heavens. But next to these distant giants there was only the plain, the vast plain that had to be tilled.
I hated the field work. And I hated the fields.
Every time I even thought about this piece of hell that had become reality long ago, my stomach turned. All the events that clung to this dark place, all the human lives and suffering that had sown the ground with death and blood here many years ago....
It was even worse when you stood in the fields yourself, truly being there on your own. It was as if I could smell it in the air, the rot of the starving and the hot blood that had watered the soil. It was as if I could still hear in the air the cries and wailing of the people who had met their end here, who had pleaded for their lives and the lives of their children and friends. It was as if I could see them in the early morning fog banks that lay on the Fields of Death, the shadows of people past, crawling and cowering, weak and starved. I had to pull myself together and look away, into the forest. A place does not forget, a place always remembers the days gone by and the cries that had been.
The plow pulled through the ground, ripping a furrow behind it. It was almost a bit comforting to imagine I was gutting this place of horror with my labor, inflicting deep wounds. Hypnotized, I stared down over and over again, watching the ground swirl to one side, smelling the fresh earth being pushed to the surface. But never could I escape my terrible feelings and the forebodings, never could I forget what kind of place I was at.
The few times I looked to the forest beside me, my thoughts wandered enviously to all those who had set out to find the angel. Had they reached it yet? Had they already learned from it what needed to be done for God's power on earth to be strengthened so that false prophets and promises could be swept away? How to drown the selfishness of the state? What needed to be done to serve the Lord?
Oh, how I would have loved to be there! How I would have loved to go with them, but I also understood the decision not to send everyone, and I understood my family's objections. I was needed here. I could serve the Lord here by tilling the fields and taking care of the soil and the sowing. I had to care for my sister.
I had already made several furrows when noon came. The sun was almost not visible, just a murky spot behind the clouds, and the fog had not lifted either. The world looked pale and apathetic. But amongst all the desolation I could suddenly hear something, something that seemed to come out of the forest.
It was at first just like a rustling in the wind that sounded a bit too regular, such that it triggered a natural uneasiness in me. I looked into the forest, but could hardly make out anything through the dense plants and the still lingering fog. That is why it was left to my own thoughts to imagine what was there, what was producing this strange noise.
I could not remember any animal that made similar sounds, was at a loss.
Suddenly, a bang echoed through the forest, accompanied by a panicked scream that broke inhumanly from the trees and spread across the fields.
Then, something new joined the sounds in the air.
The trees and bushes rustled, almost seemed to be torn apart.
Something was running through the forest, something seemed to be... coming right at me.
Was it perhaps a startled bear, an elk, or a wild boar?
Had one of the hunters from the village accidentally startled an animal, scared it in the wrong direction and now wanted to warn us with their cry? But then, why this panicked sound...?
I paused, took my hands off the rusty handles of the plow, and turned toward the forest. Still, I could only see fog, I could only hear rustling, but slowly I could also make out grunts and groans coming to me from the fog. It sounded heavy and panic-stricken.
Was I in danger? I began to pray to the Lord and ask him for assistance. I was not a fighter and so I had to hope that nothing would reach me from the depths between the trees that could easily tear me apart.
Even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.
My baptismal motto gave me courage. The Lord saw me, even in my darkness, and would be with me.
For darkness is as light to you.
Then, someone burst out of the bushes and the fog and rushed toward me.
It was Sasha.
I almost didn't recognize him. His skin was pale, almost snow-white. His black hair stuck to his sweaty face. His pants and jacket were almost completely torn, so I could see his dirty shirt and his cut and bruised legs through the holes. There were also some small cuts on his face that worried me. Sasha's eyes twitched searchingly, panicked, and in his hand, he held the rifle that he had taken with him when he had once set out. Apparently, he had run through brush and thorns, had gotten scrapes and wounds from stones and branches.
When he saw me and looked at me with his big, panic-filled eyes, I became horridly afraid.
It was as if… behind his eyes there was no Sasha anymore, but only an animal. As if instinct had taken over his thoughts when an unnamable terror had entered his world. An animal inside him, which had enabled him to escape from... something.
Sasha staggered out of the forest, it was almost as if all strength left him now that he was back home. The rifle fell from his hand and dug into the mud beneath his feet. He limped slowly toward me, not taking his eyes off me. Then, suddenly, he wheeled around and looked back into the forest and the mist.
Only for a moment.
Again, he let out a shrill scream and sprinted the last few meters. When I looked into the forest myself, I saw nothing, only the fog.
But, didn't I feel a presence there, in the bushes? Between the trees?
I didn't see anything.
Sasha had reached me and collapsed. I quickly knelt down next to him and called for help. But the other field workers had already rushed over, obviously attracted by the rifle shot. I was in a trance, seeing only Sasha lying there, supporting his head. His eyes were still twitching around and despite my proximity he didn't seem to recognize me. He looked at me, confused.
"Sasha, what happened?", I asked, feeling his forehead.
Despite his paleness, he was uncomfortably hot.
A fever raged in his body. Who knew how long he had been running around there among the trees, his protective, warming jacket torn? With wounds that had not been tended and some of which were still bleeding?
Then another horrible thought occurred to me.
"Sasha, where are the others? Sasha, where are the others?"
This question apparently brought back some clarity that his gaze had not possessed before.
"They... they took them. Took all of them... All of them. All our brothers, all our sisters... all of them," he gurgled.
*********
So, this is the first part of what I found. I will hurry to translate the rest! But I will definitely stay out of the woods for now... They are still as creepy as described by Ilya in this document and fog ist still around every morning... Also, I don't know what to make of Ilya himself as well, is he just a religious nut and that is the explanation? I just don't know...

My husband gets up very early for work every day, around 4am. I used to be a teacher and woke up quite early as well but since 2019 I’ve been a stay at home mom to our two kids (4 and 2) when we realized how expensive our daycare bill would be. Our 4 year old also has some special needs. The transition to being a SAHM was hard on me emotionally, I felt very depressed and isolated, as we live very far from our family (over 500 miles) due to my husband’s job. But I’ve made my own routine and I’ve really got it handled at home. I do 99% of household tasks and taking care of the kids, because my husband truly does work a lot and often doesn’t get home until dinner time, and is sometimes gone on work trips for 2 weeks or so. But like I’ve said, I’ve got it down now!
So anyway, with the background story explained a little, my husband has been at home more so the past two months because of medical reasons. Both my 4 year old and I have been in the hospital recently for different reasons; me because I developed an antibiotic resistant infection and my son because he required immediate surgery on an internal birth defect that was just recently discovered. This has caused my husband to have to step back from work a little (but not too much, my dad actually flew down to stay with me and help me out and take care of the kids while I healed). But while my husband has been at home more, he has come to the conclusion that I “sleep too much.” One of my beloved hobbies is gardening, and I have a great big garden in our yard full of various flowers, but also eggplant, different pepper plants, tomatoes, cabbage, broccoli… list goes on. He keeps telling me “if you want a successful garden you need to stop sleeping in and get out here at 6am go tend to them”. This is wild for him to say to me, considering I take care of this garden by myself and there’s no gardening law that says they need to be “tended to” before the sun comes up. I’m not sure where he got that idea. My garden already is successful, so I’m also not sure why he said it in the way. Another thing he has said recently is that “I need to stay up later because adults don’t go to bed as early as I do”. I go to bed around 10pm, at the latest 11pm, and wake up around 7am. He said this is lazy, and I don’t need this much sleep, and that he functions fine on 4-5 hours of sleep. He often doesn’t come to bed until midnight, and like I said he will wake up a little after 4am. I asked him why he thinks it’s weird for me to prioritize sleep when I have full days ahead of me of raising our kids, one whom has special needs, maintaining a clean home, tending to a garden, cooking 3 meals a day (we rarely eat take out). He told me “more could get done if I didn’t sleep so much.” I was like, “what more could get done? What more should I do?” He just scoffed, didn’t have an answer for me.
I cannot figure out why he has a problem with me sleeping through the night. What’s ironic is that he so sleep deprived himself that on his days off, he doesn’t want to do anything with us as a family and just falls asleep on the couch. Me? I never nap. Because I make a point to go to sleep when I’m tired. He always has headaches and stomach issues, and I’m certain it’s because he is so dang tired but won’t prioritize rest. He will complain about being tired but stays up late to play video games.
This morning he woke me up as he was leaving work, I said “have a good day, I love you”. He said I love you back, but was angry I turned back around to go back to sleep. He wanted me to get up. (And do what exactly?) I just don’t get why. Can someone offer any insight? Why does my husband not want me to sleep?

I am a first year gardener in Northern Virginia and just came across my first gardening challenge. This morning, I found a weird fungus (?) in my vegetable bed. I added organic fertilizer about three weeks ago, but have not changed anything since. So, I obviously have three questions:

1. What is it?
2. How do I get rid of it?
3. How do I prevent it from returning?

Thank you for your help!
​
​

This post is extremely long, I apologise but I just wanna share how dumb these little guys are. <3
Lola :
Throw herself off high places or out of her tank when I’m trying to feed her. (She seriously thinks she’s immortal, which at this point I’m starting to agree with her)
Jump off my bed and run all the way to my mothers room just to sit inside her wardrobe or attack her reflection.
Try to climb ontop of my dog Jett and have a free ride. (My dogs are terrified of her and will try to avoid her at all costs)
Aggressive bobbing at me cause I cleaned her tank and gave her calcium dusted food.
Sits like a dog when she doesn’t like something.
Protest about being inside her tank then when I let her out, run outside to the garden step and sit there mad cause she doesn’t like being outside. (She wants to go outside but then hates being outside.)
When she’s free-roaming she wants go to the coldest part of my room or the room we’re in and sleep there.
Again attack her reflection from the cabinet we have in our front room.
Has a crush on my fan and will fail/not fail to climb up it and lay there even though it’s cold.
Flicks her food everywhere when eating.
Will fall asleep *anywhere.
Tries to open her tank with her head by pushing it multiple times till I let her out.
Tries to commit dragonside by jumping out my hands when we’re on a walk.
Willow :
Purposes sh*ts on my bed just cause she hates me.
Sh!ts in the bath whenever I give her a bath.
Will run to the most difficultist corner I can’t get her out of. (Gotta climb over chairs to reach her)
Has an unhealthy obsession with her log hide.
Tries to get free uber rides ontop of my dogs. (Again they’re scared of her and run away) Yet she hates my dogs. (Pretty sure she hates everything at this point.)
Rango :
Very horny when he sees the ladies.
Bobs at his sisters when they’re out the tank and he’s not.
Will run like he’s running a marathon.
Purposes sh*ts directly next to his bowl or in his food when I make it food look nice.
Refuses to eat out of his food bowl. (Unless there’s mealworms or crickets in it)
Tries to eat anything and anyone.

*Move-in - Mid August (rent: $1900/month)
Hi! My roommate and I are rising seniors at NYU looking for a new roommate or subletter (female) in our 3-bed 2-bath apartment in Downtown Brooklyn (near NYU Tandon). We are ideally looking for someone to stay till our lease ends in May 2024 but are open to subletting!

• 3 minute walk to A/C/F/Q and R subway lines
• 4 minute walk to Target, Trader Joe's and Dekalb Market Hall
• Close to DUMBO, Brooklyn Heights, and Carroll Gardens neighborhoods
• Located on Brooklyn Commons Park - we take the free shuttle (1 min walk) from NYU Tandon to NYU Washington Square Park

Apartment details:

• IN-UNIT washedryer
• Dishwasher
• 12 ft. ceilings
• Hot water & gas included
• Electricity is $17/month per person on average

Building amenities:

• 24/7 doorman
• Gym and seasonal rooftop terrace
• Elevator
• Bike Room
• Children's Playroom
• Community Recreation Facilities
• Garage Parking
• Live-in Super
• Media Room
• Package Room

You can see the old street easy listing here: https://streeteasy.com/building/belltel-lofts/5f
Please reach out if you want to see more pictures or have questions!!

My name is Jonathan and I'm 31 years old. I was born and raised in Oklahoma, lived here my whole life but open to the possibility of moving elsewhere someday. I'm 6ft and a natural redhead. Unfortunately, I shave my head due to early hair loss at a young age. So there won't be any running your fingers through my hair anytime soon.
In terms of interests, I like all kinds of music except modern country and hip-hop. I primarily listen to post-rock, prog-metal, and prog-rock.
I like history and I enjoy visiting old places and museums when I can. I even enjoy looking at old aerial images and topographic maps of places to see how much they have changed over the years.
I am still technically a gamer but I don't really play games that much anymore. Although, I will watch playthroughs of games on YouTube and occasionally on Twitch too. I mostly enjoy open world games such as survival games or RPG's. I also enjoy city and colony management games as well.
Lastly, my most enjoyable thing that I do and what I want to really expand on is gardening. I've always had an interest in it ever since I was a kid and it was only in 2020 when I finally started doing it. I live in a old condo so I only have access to a concrete patio which means that I can only do container gardening.
Anyways, I'm pretty basic, pretty boring, but if I somehow interest you then slide into my DM's and I'll gladly bore you even more.

My name is Jonathan and I'm 31 years old. I was born and raised in Oklahoma, lived here my whole life but open to the possibility of moving elsewhere someday. I'm 6ft and a natural redhead. Unfortunately, I shave my head due to early hair loss at a young age. So there won't be any running your fingers through my hair anytime soon.
In terms of interests, I like all kinds of music except modern country and hip-hop. I primarily listen to post-rock, prog-metal, and prog-rock.
I like history and I enjoy visiting old places and museums when I can. I even enjoy looking at old aerial images and topographic maps of places to see how much they have changed over the years.
I am still technically a gamer but I don't really play games that much anymore. Although, I will watch playthroughs of games on YouTube and occasionally on Twitch too. I mostly enjoy open world games such as survival games or RPG's. I also enjoy city and colony management games as well.
Lastly, my most enjoyable thing that I do and what I want to really expand on is gardening. I've always had an interest in it ever since I was a kid and it was only in 2020 when I finally started doing it. I live in a old condo so I only have access to a concrete patio which means that I can only do container gardening.
Anyways, I'm pretty basic, pretty boring, but if I somehow interest you then slide into my DM's and I'll gladly bore you even more.

I have a print I do constantly on my Prusa's, but the X1C fails at roughly the same spot every time. Wondering what else I could try...I've tried these things for better bed adhesion, but it continues to be knocked off the plate:

• Textured plate, raised temp by 5 degrees all the way up to 70
• Textured plate, with hair spray
• Washed textured plate with dish soap and iso alcohol
• Cool plate with glue and raised temp
• Brims
• Slower first layer
• Lower layer height for first layer
• Turned off Internal Bridges Support
• Adjusted infill and wall loops
• Printed with door closed and door open
• Tried two different filaments

I should note this just started, before today the X1C worked without flaw, though I hadn't tried this specific print yet.
​
https://reddit.com/link/141ckhp/video/kxvw3ug1y64b1/player

My name is Jonathan and I'm 31 years old. I was born and raised in Oklahoma, lived here my whole life but open to the possibility of moving elsewhere someday. I'm 6ft and a natural redhead. Unfortunately, I shave my head due to early hair loss at a young age. So there won't be any running your fingers through my hair anytime soon.
In terms of interests, I like all kinds of music except modern country and hip-hop. I primarily listen to post-rock, prog-metal, and prog-rock.
I like history and I enjoy visiting old places and museums when I can. I even enjoy looking at old aerial images and topographic maps of places to see how much they have changed over the years.
I am still technically a gamer but I don't really play games that much anymore. Although, I will watch playthroughs of games on YouTube and occasionally on Twitch too. I mostly enjoy open world games such as survival games or RPG's. I also enjoy city and colony management games as well.
Lastly, my most enjoyable thing that I do and what I want to really expand on is gardening. I've always had an interest in it ever since I was a kid and it was only in 2020 when I finally started doing it. I live in a old condo so I only have access to a concrete patio which means that I can only do container gardening.
Anyways, I'm pretty basic, pretty boring, but if I somehow interest you then slide into my DM's and I'll gladly bore you even more.

Kayles, Soldier of the United Kingdom, Subject of His Majesty, King George V
Date: [Standardized Human Time] June 29, 1915
Hot balls of lead death send splinters flying as I ducked into a dugout. Miles was close behind, clutching his helmet with his free hand. He had used all of his grenades in blowing apart the barbed wire, so we only had rifles at our disposal. Even though he towered well above my eye level, I still could see the fear in his visage.
Shouts in German rounded the corner, and Miles looked at me wordlessly. Run!, his eyes seemed to say. His fleeing deeper into the tunnel system confirmed my position.
My paws pattered on the dirt floor, as gunfire sounded from outside.
”Miles!” I hissed, determined not to make any noise. No reply
Fuck! I lost that blasted human again. Now, here I was, in a pitch-black German bunker.
I stepped forward, my paw pads shifting the dust on the floorboards like bread dough on a floured cutting board. Thankfully, I appeared to be totally alone in this tunnel complex, given that the soldiers pursuing us weren’t in earshot. My ears were still ringing faintly, however, and I couldn’t be sure if I was truly alone.
The next few minutes consisted of me bumping into bunk beds as I stumbled my way through the dugout, no source of light except for one dim lantern left in the corner by its operator. I stepped over and grabbed the brass loop tightly in my forepaw, and lifted it off the hook, granting me a light source.
The next few minutes attempting to navigate the tunnels were uneventful, as the sounds of battle filtered in from outside. Eventually, the dim glow from the lantern was replaced by daylight as I found an exit. Immediately, I was greeted by a pair of German soldiers frantically operating a machine gun.
The cylinder of death was chattering away as it chewed through its ammunition, the belt being held aloft by the soldier that wasn’t operating the weapon. I raised my rifle, and I fired.
The machine gunner’s head jerked to the side as crimson gushed from his neck, the fiend falling to the ground as his comrade wheeled, dropping the ammunition belt and rushing to unholster his sidearm. I fired again after ratcheting the bolt, and that was two down. The machine gun stood silent. Where were all the other Germans?
Gunfire nearby alerted to the potential whereabouts of the absent soldiers. Hefting my stolen rifle, I grabbed an ammunition clip from my satchel, and racked it into my rifle. Combat awaited!
But wait, what was that? Is that… cheering? Why would cheering erupt in the middle of a battle?
My confusion grew as I turned, startled at several English soldiers storming around a corner.
“WE DROVE THEM OUT!” One of the Terrans shouted deafeningly. Next to him stood a familiar spiky form, acting just as excited and eager; a Gojid.
I knew that the Gojid species was in short supply on Earth, but seeing one on the frontlines of this damned hell was definitely strange. The spiky fella seemed to be completely in tune with the humans. It was likely his parents raised him next to the omnivores.
He introduced himself as Bratip, and I fell into this squad, now representing three separate species. From what they told me, the Germans had dedicated a large portion of this line to attacking our position, and when we countered, their meager defenses collapsed. It explained the lack of Germans I saw in the dugout.
As the smoke from the fires of war drifted over the horizon, I pondered the fate of that Miles kid, and my friend, Barlek.
First Previous ——-
Hey guys, Snudwoner here. I’m sorry if this chapter doesn’t exactly keep up with the action of the past two, but I’ve been busy with end-of-school exams and whatnot, and I really needed to finish up the current battle, and get ready to transition the story to another point.
But, we now have confirmation that Terran Gojid exist on Earth in this AU, and the English forces have pushed back the German Line! Stay tuned!

I noticed that my enemies, followers, creatures are acting very idiotic. They sheathe a thousand times, say the same thing a thousand times, taunt again and again, they sometimes don't even attack until i do, followers are barely any help because they just watch me or get stuck on sneak, or shout ''Iaah'' and such things while getting attacked by enemies but not attack them back and just stand there. %90 of the time it's like that.
Please please please help me. What am i doing wrong??
https://imgur.com/jxg3rUi
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Celes Mercy.esp
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My girlfriend (23f) , a close friend (24f) and I (23m) just moved to Jersey city from nyc. We viewed the apartment in early may, it was advertised and shown as this beautiful 1st floor brownstone apt in JC only 30 min from Manhattan. We moved in 3 days ago and Our landlord (Katie) has been raising some concerns...
During the viewing, we noticed a few things like trash in the backyard, construction equipment and even a few piles of dog shit which katie assured would be cleaned and fixed. We were told that she would be hiring cleaners for the apartment after the prev tenants left too. Everything looked good so we signed the year lease.
The day we arrived with all our stuff, the floors were disgusting, the windows were dusty and everything in the kitchen was used and unwashed. My cats paws are black from all the dirt on the floor. The backyard was still covered in dog shit and rubble from construction. We went to the basement where we were promised to have laundry but we're met with two old machines that didn't work and "needed repairs". The door that separates our apt and the shared space hallway barely locked and could be pushed open after "locking".
Before we moved in, I asked about flooding and water damage and was told "absolutely not, has never happened". But, on the 2nd day my rooms ceiling began to leak because of the upstairs neighbors shower. We ran upstairs and knocked on the neighbors door, she said that katie knew about it because the previous tenants would complain all the time! That really sent me so I called her and was told that contractors would be there tomorrow to fix all these issues right away.
The following day, contractors come and katie's follows. Everything I mentioned is never met with an apology but with lies and excuses. She acted like she hired cleaners and was surprised saying "oh wow, they did such a bad job" when they never fucking came! She made it seem like all these problems were things she already knew about but didn't want to mention so she could get us to sign. She also acted like she never knew it leaked even though the floor boards are lifted from water damage. The contractor end up ripping a huge hole in my ceiling and fixing the pipe. Katie tried to have them leave the hole there u til Monday so I'd have to live with this gape above my bed. I got mad and demanded that it's fixed right away. We all spoke to her and expressed how unfair alot of this is. Two of us couldn't provide proof of income so she asked for another month so she could " feel more comfortable renting to people who can't prove they can afford it" which I get! But she doesn't want to ensure security in our living space. She's a liar and cheap and she doesn't take accountability for anything. The door was fixed by putting a tiny lock on it that I could still bust down, my ceiling just has bare drywall now, and my floors seem impossible to clean. The basement where the laundry was supposed to be is extremely dusty and there's a giant yuck puddle swamp down there. Last night I noticed my floor had a puddle seeping out between the floor Molding and the floor boards. My floor boards are completely warped now and the walls are soft from water damage. Katie told me to "put some paper towel down we will do adjustment" WHAT? ADJUST WHAT? REPLACE THE FLOORBOARDS. IF I WANTED WATER IN MY ROOM ID BE A FISH, why do I have a wet corner of my room?!? She's so nonchalant about it because she fucking knew about all this stuff.
We talked to her about being more lenient about our owed 2nd month and we didn't think it was fair. Her solution was to pay us for the days we miss work. Like what? No just fixed the shit and cut us some slack on the next months for this trouble. I hope I'm not out of line by asking that.
I don't know what to do. It feels like she doesn't listen to us and just treats this as a side hustle, she doesn't care about the apt and she doesn't care about her tenants.

My partner has an 11yo from a woman who likes to yell at the kid all the time. I've seen it every time we have things that we have to do as a 3 parent 1 kid unit. And when I say yell, I mean literally scream at the kid for things like laughing too loud or watching a kid TV show (they are only allowed to watch adult shows at BM's house).
I grew up in a household where I was also screamed out all the time. Very verbally, mentally, and emotionally abusive. And because of that, I do not raise my voice in the slightest, because yelling is upsetting to me.
However, my partner apparently thinks I am always yelling at SK. Even though SK tells him that he is the one that occasionally yells and I never have. Any time I say (stress on the word "say") something along the lines of "don't do that", "you need to do this instead", "this is why this keeps happening and if you don't stop X then Y won't change", I get told to stop yelling at her.
For example, I have been working on respecting other people's boundaries with SK, and one that I have is that SK cannot come in to our room without permission. Before they would just come in and looking through dressers or crawl in/under the bed. I don't just enter your room without permission, you won't go in mine. Anyway, this morning partner and I were getting our bags ready for work and she was just standing in the doorway staring at us waiting to be taken to school. I said "you do not need to stand in the doorway staring at us, you also have your shoes on the carpet so go wait in the entry way". Partner walks past me after her saying "you don't need to yell at her". How in the heck was that yelling?
I've been given permission to tell her things she should and cannot do. But whenever I do it around my partner, then I'm yelling.
I'm about to NACHO my way out of this when he is around. But he doesn't see my issues as important because SK should be allowed to be wherever they want. Or he only gives a dad-level of attention to what she is doing so he doesn't catch things that happen.
How do I do this since I get made in to a bad person every time because SK is going to eventually think that whenever I say anything I'm yelling at them even though I'm not. It almost feels like he does this because he is jealous that SK comes to me for issues instead of him and that was his "buddy" in his past relationship. Is he sabotaging?

The thought of her being with someone else is driving me insane, but at the same time it was the right decision to break up. It is so fucking frustrating!
She was my main emotional support, almost all of my happiness & my closest friend. I'm so angry at myself for letting myself rely on her so much when there was so much uncertainty surrounding our relationship. I just thought I got strong enough to deal with it.
There was a time in the relationship when she said that if we fall in love she'll stay in Melbourne. There was a time when she was applying to jobs in Melbourne as a reason to stay, she was definitely looking at staying & I clung to that. We even briefly talked about doing some travelling together. It made it harder when she left. I do feel like I've been messed around a bit & I turned into an inconvenience to her. She knew how much I wanted her to stay, even though I never asked her to. She said it felt like there was a lot of pressure on her, which I do understand. She never meant to fall in love either. But I feel we could have come up with some kind of plan, but she couldn't. She is just kind of winging it.
I understand she was following her dreams & I do truly hope she has a lovely time, but it just felt like I was not being considered in any future plans. There was absolutely no certainty in any aspect of the relationship outside of us being in love.
We started as housemates & kissed about a week in, I knew I was going to fall for her as soon as I went back into my room. The next day I realised how messy the situation would be: were housemates so the fallout could be terrible, her brother is also living with us, she is planning on leaving, I have doubts of how I'll handle heartbreak etc. So I tried to call it off, she convinced me that it was a good idea so we continued.
Then, and this is where I really mess up, a few weeks later the fears come back. After spending every single night together in the same bed I think I'm starting to fall in love with her & I tell her this is a bad idea and I can't to it. She kicks me out of bed & I go for a walk. I realise that I've made a mistake & that I don't care if it's going to hurt, that I do love her & have not stopped thinking about her since that first kiss. I plead my case & she took me back that night, obviously still a bit upset with me.
The next four months spent living with her have been the best of my life. Romantic weekends away, going out together, cooking & cleaning up together, sleeping together, doing almost everything together. I can confidently say that I was a lovely boyfriend in this time, I would regularly buy her flowers, gifts, send her poetry and let her know how much special she is to me. She was equally as wonderfully lovely too, I had never experienced love like she gave me.
Then I'm at work & I get a text saying work approved of her transfer. We had talked about this & in my mind I knew it was coming but my heart still believed she would stay. This brought up a lot of abandonment issues & I took them out on her. I was moody, visibly upset that she was leaving & distant. That said, I did find out my little sister has just tried to kill herself in this time so there was probably a bit of that going on too. But this all just made her feel extra pressure, something she did tell me she struggles with. I do wish I could have kept it together for her.
After I found out she was going I asked our friend to convince me not to break up with her as I couldn't see how we would work with all of the uncertainties. She had no plan of her travels, and was completely honest about not being able to give me any kind of certainty for the indefinite future. He said he couldn't see the romance in it & that it was the right thing to do. I didn't accept that & called up my little sister, she said the same thing and then told me shes in hospital. During the next few days I am a bad boyfriend: cold, distant and moody. I felt so guilty about thinking about breaking up with her, some of the childhood issues resurface, little sister & I don't cope. I finally find a friend who has been in a long distance relationship, giving me hope & I use that. I tell my girlfriend in bed that I was thinking about breaking up with her & she's furious, she's angry at me for how I treated her during this time & says she feels insecure in the relationship. I do my best to make it up to her, show up at her work with a rose, even tell her some details of my mother leaving when I was a kid in hopes for her to understand why I'm struggling. We make up, have a nice few days & then she leaves.
3 weeks of long distance were tough. I'm clingy and she's busy. We have small arguments, she feels pressured by me. Her reception is problematic, stressed with the travels, living situation, work etc. We barely talk. We call maybe 5 times in this time period, all requiring my to stay up until 12-4am for a 10 minute phone call. She's tired from all the stress. This all makes me feel very insecure in the relationship & I tell her how I feel and ask her to please send me a picture of her every day & let's try and organise a time we can call eachother. She doesn't send a picture more often than she does & she can't help organise a time to call. This eventually leads to me asking her to promise me that she's not going to break up with me when I next see her, which is in a short time. I had organised a flight to see my sister once she was out of hospital & my gf was also in the same area. When I ask her to promise me she freaks, saying how much pressure she feels. When I tell her I'm coming soon she freaks, saying she doesn't need someone following her around Australia- I tell her that broke my heart & have to explain that I'm going over for my suicidal sibling, and I do hope to see her too.
She stays with me when I fly over at my childhood home, we have a decent few days but I can't help be angry with her. I'm overwhelmed with being back at home again, worried about my little sister & frustrated with myself & her with how the last month has unfolded. I give some stupid input into her relationship with her brother which wasn't my business & comes off as snobby. She's angry again & we have a bad day. We go out that night & I snap at her while drunk, we raise our voices a bit & don't talk much for the next hour. Hours up & I sit down to apologise, saying how stressful this all is for me & then I misunderstand what she says- I thought she was taking the piss about how I can't look after my siblings. I storm off & leave her & her 24yo brother in town on their own, requiring them to get a taxi back to my place. She explains that I took her words incorrectly & I try to apologise as much as possible. Next few days are bad & I decide that this isn't working, that we are barely in a relationship & that won't change for the indefinite future. That I'm at a point in my life where I need to focus on myself & that this isn't fair on either of us. I once again try to get some kind of certainty of when I'll see her again and she can't give me one, saying she now wants to live in as many countries as she can before 30 & that she can't promise she'll be in the country at the end of the year. I tell her I can't do this anymore. We end amicably, have a reasonably nice last few days & she provides hope for the future.
We continue to text as regularly as the 3 weeks apart & I have a bad day a week and a half in. I make a Reddit post listing all of the bad things I did in the relationship, saying how I regret breaking up & then I beg her to take me back over text. She has none of it, reminding me that I've broken us up so many times before & that I can't act like this. I'm still acting clingy to this day, I just can't find a way to deal with this. A lot of my childhood stuff has come back during this time & it's tough.
I just don't know how to deal with this. Has anyone been in a similar situation? Any opinions of how I handled it?
TLDR: struggling to deal with heartbreak of a 5 month relationship & need some input into what could have done differently, thanks xxx