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I try to do it myself, not ai.
11/03/2025

I try to do it myself, not ai.

I spent last week down in Surrey carving at my good friend’s Michael Jones! I made this wildlife scene which will be joi...
22/02/2025

I spent last week down in Surrey carving at my good friend’s Michael Jones! I made this wildlife scene which will be joining his carvings near Horndean Parish.

Mary has been learning carving from her father since she was young. This is a piece she spent a year working on. If you ...
22/02/2025

Mary has been learning carving from her father since she was young. This is a piece she spent a year working on. If you don't look down on sculptors, a simple greeting from you would make her very hapy.

In love with this scene 😍
22/02/2025

In love with this scene 😍

I made this for our yard, but no one appreciated it! 🥲🥹 Please give me some praise.
22/02/2025

I made this for our yard, but no one appreciated it! 🥲🥹 Please give me some praise.

Handicraft, but unfortunately, no one appreciated it.😔
22/02/2025

Handicraft, but unfortunately, no one appreciated it.😔

IT WAS ONLY ME AND MY DOG - I HAD NO OTHER FRIEND LEFT IN THIS WORLDThe nights were the worst. Cold, lonely, and way too...
20/02/2025

IT WAS ONLY ME AND MY DOG - I HAD NO OTHER FRIEND LEFT IN THIS WORLD

The nights were the worst. Cold, lonely, and way too long. But at least I had Rusty.

Rusty wasn’t just a dog—he was my last friend. My only family. We had been through everything together, and no matter how bad things got, he always curled up next to me, keeping me warm, keeping me sane.

That night, I was sitting on the sidewalk, holding him close, when a police officer stopped in front of us.

I tensed up. Cops usually meant trouble for people like me.

“You okay?” he asked. His voice was calm, not harsh like I expected.

I nodded, rubbing Rusty’s ears. “Just trying to get through the night.”

The officer crouched down, eyes fixed on Rusty. He reached out, let Rusty sniff his hand, then ran his fingers through the dog’s fur like he already knew him.

“He’s a good boy,” the officer said quietly. But there was something else in his voice—something heavy.

He asked me a few more questions, then did something unexpected. He pulled out his wallet and handed me some cash. “Get yourself a meal. And something for him, too.”

I hesitated. “Why are you helping me?”

He ⬇️

The Right Way to Fertilize Trees 🌳🌿... 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞💬👀 ,  @អ្នកគាំទ្រពេញនិយម
19/02/2025

The Right Way to Fertilize Trees 🌳🌿... 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞💬👀 , @អ្នកគាំទ្រពេញនិយម

😍🥰 . 🩷 The attention to detail makes it an incredible work of art! 🌺 We eagerly await your opinions! 🥰😍
19/02/2025

😍🥰 . 🩷 The attention to detail makes it an incredible work of art! 🌺 We eagerly await your opinions! 🥰😍

Something to keep in mind while doing spring yard work! Wrapping tape sticky side out around the ankles seems to work pr...
19/02/2025

Something to keep in mind while doing spring yard work! Wrapping tape sticky side out around the ankles seems to work pretty good for catching ticks. I bet it also works for prickly plants too!
Via: 's Bee Farm

THERE WERE COPS IN MY YARD, AND AS AN AFRICAN AMERICAN FAMILY, MY MIND WAS FULL OF NEGATIVE THOUGHTSI froze when I saw t...
19/02/2025

THERE WERE COPS IN MY YARD, AND AS AN AFRICAN AMERICAN FAMILY, MY MIND WAS FULL OF NEGATIVE THOUGHTS

I froze when I saw the police car parked in front of our house. The flashing lights weren’t on, but my stomach clenched anyway. Then I spotted two officers standing in my yard.

I gripped the doorknob, hesitant to step outside. My son, Isaiah, was in there. My husband wasn’t home. And we’re a Black family—I didn’t need to tell myself what could go wrong.

I took a deep breath and pushed the door open. “Isaiah?” My voice came out shakier than I wanted.

Isaiah came running up the steps with the biggest grin on his face. “Mom! Did you see?”

One of the officers, a white guy with a buzz cut, turned toward me. “Ma’am, your son is quite the little hero.”

Hero? My mind scrambled to make sense of what I was hearing. I looked at Isaiah, then at the second officer, a Black woman who gave me a small, reassuring nod. But my body was still tight, my hands still cold.

“There was a man running through the neighborhood,” the officer continued. “Wanted for robbery. We were about to lose him until your boy did… whatever that was.” He let out a short chuckle.

Isaiah practically bounced on his feet. “I used my—”

I grabbed his arm before he could finish. “You helped the police?” My voice was gentle, but my eyes searched his face. I wasn’t mad, just… cautious.

Isaiah nodded proudly. “Yeah! And they caught him because of me!”

I swallowed, glancing at the officers again. The Black woman smiled. “He really did. It was clever, honestly.”

I exhaled, my nerves still buzzing. Isaiah was safe. He wasn’t in trouble. But I still needed to know—how exactly did my son, my nine-year-old, help the police catch a thief?

Isaiah smiled wider. “It was easy, Mom! I just used my...”

MY SON LOOKED DOWN ON ME BECAUSE I'M A FARMER—UNTIL HE LOST HIS FANCY JOBPeople don’t say it outright, but I see it in t...
19/02/2025

MY SON LOOKED DOWN ON ME BECAUSE I'M A FARMER—UNTIL HE LOST HIS FANCY JOB

People don’t say it outright, but I see it in their faces. The way they talk slower, like I can’t hear right. The way they chuckle when I pull out cash instead of using a card. To them, I’m just some old farmer, clinging to a way of life that doesn’t matter anymore.

Even my own son, Daniel, sees me that way sometimes.

“Dad, you could sell the farm and retire,” he’d say, shaking his head when I refused. “Why keep working so hard when you don’t have to?”

He never understood. To him, success meant suits, meetings, and a big paycheck. To me, success was the land beneath my feet, the crops I raised, the home I built with my own hands.

Then one day, everything changed.

Daniel showed up at my door, shoulders slumped, eyes hollow. I hadn’t seen him like that since he was a boy.

“I lost my job,” he admitted, voice quiet. “The company downsized. I… I don’t know what to do.”

I studied him for a moment, then stepped aside. “Come in.”

He hesitated, then walked inside like a man who had nowhere else to go.

After a long silence, he finally asked, “Do you think I could—work here? Just until I figure things out?”

I took a slow sip of my coffee, letting the question hang. Then⬇️

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Douar Fdiili
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