Someone buys an extravagant car, appliance, power tool, etc. and the angry spouse orders "You're returning it tomorrow!". Even after using it.
Especially returning a car seems so weird :)

Designing a tiny house provides a unique challenge: maximizing the use of limited space while retaining practicality and aesthetic appeal. Fortunately, various interior design concepts can make a little house decor feel more roomy, efficient, and pleasant. Here, we look at some popular interior design concepts for compact houses.

1. Every square inch counts in a little abode. To maximize functionality, versatile furniture must be included. A sofa that also serves as a pull-out bed, a dining table that folds down from the wall, or storage ottomans that function as seats while also providing hidden storage space is all examples.
2. Open Floor Designs: Open floor designs work well in tiny dwellings to generate a sense of openness and maximize the flow of natural light. Removing unneeded walls and barriers can make a room feel more spacious and versatile. It also allows for more versatile furniture combinations and the appearance of a larger living space.
3. Utilizing Vertical Room: Because tiny residences frequently lack horizontal room, vertical space is essential for storage and organization. Installing floating shelves, wall-mounted hooks or racks, tall storage units, or built-in cabinetry can help maximize vertical space while keeping the floor clear and clutter-free.
4. Bright and light colors, such as whites, creams, and pastels, enhance the illusion of space in a small dwelling. They reflect natural light, making the room feel light and airy. Choosing light-colored furniture, carpeting, and wall finishes all help to make a room appear larger.
5. Large Windows and Natural Light: Adequate natural light is vital for making a tiny area appear larger and more appealing. Large windows not only illuminate the interior but also provide a connection to the outside world, providing a sense of openness and enlarging the perceived space.
6. Mirrors & Reflective Surfaces: Using mirrors to create the illusion of depth and visually expand a compact house is a clever design tip. Mirrors carefully placed can reflect light and provide the illusion of a larger space. Incorporating reflecting surfaces such as glass or metallic accents can also assist bounce light around the space.
7. Smart Storage Solutions: In a tiny residence, effective storage solutions are essential for keeping possessions organized and minimizing clutter. Under-bed storage, built-in cabinets, hanging organizers, and concealed or multi-functional storage sections can all help to maximize available space while preserving a clean and uncluttered appearance.
8. Compact Appliances and Fixtures: In a tiny house, it's important to choose appliances and fixtures that are specifically designed for small spaces. Compact kitchen appliances, space-saving bathroom fixtures, and slim-profile furniture can help maximize functionality while minimizing the footprint.
9. Outdoor Living Space: If your tiny house has outdoor space, incorporating an outdoor living area can extend the usable space and provide a refreshing retreat. Designing a patio, deck, or rooftop terrace allows for additional seating, dining, and relaxation areas, providing the feeling of a larger overall living space.
10. Personalization and Minimalism: While designing a tiny house, it's essential to focus on the essentials and avoid excessive clutter. Embrace a minimalist approach by carefully curating your belongings and incorporating personal touches that bring joy and meaning to your space. Thoughtful design choices and intentional decor can make a tiny house feel cozy and uniquely yours.

Finally, designing the interior of a compact house necessitates imagination as well as careful consideration of space constraints. A compact house can feel more large, useful, and appealing by adding multipurpose furniture, utilizing vertical space, embracing light colors, maximizing natural light, employing mirrors, and prioritizing smart storage. A tiny house may become a cozy, personalized retreat that suits your needs and reflects your taste with intelligent design decisions and efficient use of space.

Hi everyone! Went to open home in panmure today around dunkirk roa
-land 95m2 and floor 122m2 and new build

• 3 rooms and 2 bathrooms and a study/ office room (7m2) which can be rent out as a single room - advertised as 4 bedrooms
  
• included dishwasher, stove and oven - bosh appliances, single sink ( food disposal will be combined one sink)
  
• internal garage can be used as a storage
  
• carpark looks easy .
  

Perhaps the price is $900k ish. Will you willing to buy this property?
Pl

Hi everyone! Went to open home in panmure today around dunkirk roa
-land 95m2 and floor 122m2 and new build

• 3 rooms and 2 bathrooms and a study/ office room (7m2) which can be rent out as a single room - advertised as 4 bedrooms
  
• included dishwasher, stove and oven - bosh appliances, single sink ( food disposal will be combined one sink)
  
• internal garage can be used as a storage
  
• carpark looks easy .
  

Perhaps the price is $900k ish. Will you willing to buy this property?
Pl

Now that Vogel has been named head coach I would love to see what Dillon Brooks could do as our version of Marcus Smart. Seeing a versatile, hard nosed defender like him in this system is a dream situation. Just look at how Frank used Lance Stephenson in Indiana and you'll start to see the possibilities.

Available: July 1st (very flexible) – October 30th with option to renew
We are seeking a lease takeover for a three-bedroom townhouse. We absolutely love this apartment. It is with a heavy heart that we are letting it go. Brand new building (finished in 2019). We’re the second tenants in this apartment, and you could be the third! The kitchen is completely updated with sleek stainless-steel appliances and a gas stove, and the bathrooms are updated and beautiful as well. It’s an open layout, making it even more spacious.
Neighborhood: Between Old Kensington and Norris Square. There are restaurants and bars nearby.
• Two fresh local produce grocery stores in walking distance
• Human Robot (brewery), Sutton’s Bar, Sor Ynez (Mexican restaurant and great brunch spot), and Luna Café (breakfast, lunch, super cute spot) are all within 5 minutes’ walk.
• Handball and Basketball court within 5 minutes (we rollerskate here!)
• Affordable and practical gym 2 minutes walking
• Dog parks and local SEPTA train station within 10 minutes’ walk.
• 15-minute walk Temple University Charles Library
Amenities:
- Personal bathroom for each bedroom
- Full size washedryer
- Patio Deck
- Dishwasher
- Free parking spot (street access)
Move in date is flexible, but ideally, we’re looking for someone to move in July 1. The lease ends October 30th, with the opportunity to renew. The landlord does complete a background check and proof of income. Having a guarantor is accepted. Please contact us for more information and/or if you have questions. The apartment is available to tour with at least 24-hour notice.
About the tenants: Each of us are professionals commuting to NYC and King of Prussia 4-5 days a week, and it isn’t sustainable for us to stay. There are two of us in the bedrooms downstairs, and we’re using the room upstairs as an office for our WFH days.
** Apartment Total Monthly Rent is $2000. Single room leasing is not available as this is a complete lease takeover agreement.

German Balcony Energy Storage is a concept that uses solar and other renewable energy sources for energy storage and management on German residential balconies. The concept aims to use the space on a residential balcony and turn it into a small energy system to achieve energy self-sufficiency and reduce dependence on the conventional grid.
Here is some of what I learned about German balcony energy storage: German balcony energy storage systems typically include the following components:
Solar panels: Solar panels installed on balconies are used to collect solar energy and convert it into electricity. These panels usually use photovoltaic technology, which converts sunlight directly into electricity.
Energy storage devices: Balcony energy storage systems are usually equipped with an energy storage device, such as a battery pack or a thermal storage device. These devices are used to store the collected solar electricity for daytime or nighttime use. Inverter: Balcony energy storage systems also include an inverter to convert DC energy to AC energy for use by appliances and equipment inside the home.
The German balcony energy storage system works as follows:
Solar panels convert the light energy from the sunlight into DC electrical energy by absorbing it.
The DC energy enters a storage device, such as a battery pack, in order to store energy when needed.
An inverter converts the stored DC energy into AC energy to meet the needs of appliances and equipment inside the home.
Thank you very much for pointing out if there are any mistakes, I hope this article will be helpful to you.

I’ve been waiting to talk about this. I’ve been looking for others with similar experiences, or… I dunno. Maybe I hoped I was insane. Months have passed, and I still don’t have the slightest idea what to believe. But no matter what is true and what isn’t, the memory of what happened to me is as true as can be.
And every time I put my hand to a door, I tremble.
​
I was looking for a house in the surrounding area. I know, being a homeowner at 27 seems like a dream. I know I’ve been fortunate. Even so, I wanted something remote, spacious, and comparably cheap.
I’d been looking for something nearby, but everything even close to a larger city quickly ran out of my price range. It wasn’t until I started looking at the rural outskirts that I started to see something realistic.
I’d been to four open house showings in the past week when I came across an ad that looked too good to be true. Another open house, but this one was just perfect. Apparently, they were looking to make a quick sale after a previous deal had fallen through.
​
I made my way to a small nearby town called Tomskog. There was a little billboard with a blue sunflower greeting me, and I took a hard right down a street named “Sunplenty Road”. There were only five houses there, and the one I came to look at was at the far end. Even from a distance, I could tell I wasn’t the only visitor.
I parked on the street outside and took in the sights. There was an “Open House” sign outside, again with the sunflower logo. There was a separate garage, and the house itself was smaller than expected. Homely, but small.
I was greeted by a cheerful man. He had thick glasses, a receding hairline, and the kind of “fun uncle” smile that told me he could get away with anything.
“Come on in,” he said. “You’re gonna love it.”
​
There was me, the realtor, and three other people. A middle-aged couple, and a younger woman. She had this messy black hair that kept poking her in the eye. Even at a glance I could tell the young woman was distraught. She wasn’t even looking around the house, she seemed more interested in the people wandering about.
The house had a simple and open layout. The bottom floor had a bathroom, a separate study room, an adjoining kitchen, and a lounge area. There were stairs leading to a sort of catwalk on the second floor, making the main room wide open. The second floor had another bathroom, a bedroom, and a guest room.
It had this sort of sullen 70’s vibe with grey and white flower-patterned wallpaper. There were little scuffs and tears pretty much everywhere, but the house itself seemed… fine.
​
The realtor, Anders, showed me all the details of the kitchen. He assured me that most of the appliances were to be replaced before the next homeowner moved in, and proudly displayed the new garbage disposal. It was a nice enough setup, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the young woman standing outside the study. I got the feeling that she was standing guard.
As the middle-aged couple walked downstairs, they asked her they could have a look.
“No,” she answered, with a shrug. “You can’t.”
“Don’t mind her,” Anders the realtor smiled. “Of course you can.”
“No,” she insisted. “They can’t.”
Anders walked up to her and leaned in. His demeanor shifted. They argued back and forth, and I could hear her repeat, over and over;
“This is not what we agreed to.”
​
The middle-aged couple and I just looked at one another. While the realtor and the young woman argued, we introduced ourselves. I smiled and gave them my name. They were named Helen and Sebastian, or ‘Seb’ for short. Typical midwestern salt-of-the-earth kind of people. They were suffering from an empty nest and seemed to want a place to start over. They made no secret about being interested in the place, although Helen wasn’t sure about having no direct access to the garage. Seb, on the other hand, wasn’t sure about the soil. He wanted a proper garden, and the soil seemed ill-fit to sustain greenery.
“Still,” Helen smiled. “Best place we’ve seen so far.”
“Sure is,” added Seb, giving Helen a little shake.
​
Anders kept arguing with the young woman. I could overhear her name as Whitney, and she was not willing to cooperate. Finally, Anders just pushed past her, putting his keys in the lock.
“Right this way, we’ll just take a quick peek.”
“We’re not done in there,” she said. “You can’t just-“
“It was supposed to be packed up, Whitney. I can’t help that you’re late.”
“That’s not… please. Give me an hour.”
“You’ve had plenty of hours.”
He clicked the door open and pushed it in. The three of us gave Whitney an apologetic look as we stepped inside.
​
The study was a mess. Old clothes strewn across various furniture, loose papers and books haphazardly thrown across a musky desk. An entire wall of bookshelves full of textbooks, ranging from discrete mathematics to philosophical physics. I stood there for a few seconds, taking it all in. Whitney pushed past us, grabbing an empty box from the floor.
“Don’t touch anything,” she sighed. “Just… look at it, and leave.”
Anders leaned over to us, lowering his voice.
“You have to excuse her,” he whispered. “There were some… complications, with the former owner.”
“Oh, she’s… the, uh, the daughter?” Seb asked.
Anders nodded.
​
While Anders told us about the east-facing windows and the top-of-the-line air conditioning system, I couldn’t help but to keep my eyes on Whitney. She was rummaging through the desk, dropping mementos, pictures, and notebooks into one of her many cardboard boxes. I could tell she was sleep deprived. She kept yawning.
Helen seemed eager to just leave Whitney to her grieving, while Seb kept to the practical details. He checked the hardwood floor, the insulation on the windows, the wall linings for pests. At one point, he almost knocked over a coffee table, and Whitney came running. She caught a vase that was about to topple off the table.
“Don’t… don’t touch anything!” she cried out. “Just… if you have to be here, stay… stay still!”
“I’m, uh… sorry,” Seb said. “I was just-“
“Just go over there!”
She waved her hands around, shaking the vase. There was a little rattle coming from it.
​
She shook it again, and I could see the color fade from her cheeks. Carefully, she tipped the vase, and something dark plopped into her hand.
A large bronze key.
Whitney pulled her hand back, letting the bronze key clatter to the floor. She covered her mouth, forgetting how to exhale. We just looked at her having what seemed, to us, like a mental breakdown.
“Nobody move,” she gasped. “Nobody… do anything.”
​
We all just stood there. Helen and Seb barely breathed, and I was suddenly hyper-aware of how still my feet were. Anders wasn’t impressed. If anything, he was fed up with this. He rolled his eyes, and picked up the key.
“Whitney, I’m sorry, you’re gonna have to wait outside.”
“Please, put… put that down.”
“You can put it with your things and take it outside.”
“Just… don’t move, you don’t know what you’re-“
Anders opened the door, stepped out of the study, and headed straight for the front door. Whitney dropped everything and ran after him. The rest of us followed suit.
“Wait!” she called out. “Please wait!”
​
As soon as Anders put his hand on the front door, Whitney stopped dead in her tracks.
“Anders, please, I’m sorry,” she said. “Just step away. Give me the key. I’ll leave, I promise. I swear.”
“That’s enough of that.”
“No!”
​
He opened the door and took a step forward. The bronze key passed the threshold.
​
We’d all stepped into the main lounge by now, and I heard the door to the study slam shut. There was a sort of pressure shift, making the wind move through the main lounge. Every door in the house slid shut with a click. All except the front door, which was wide open.
But there was nothing there.
Not nothing as in no one standing there. No, nothing as in “a nothing”. Just a blank, black space.
A viscous fluid where sunlight ought to be.
Endless, abyssal, ocean.
​
I stared at it, mesmerized. The contrast of the bright sun coming in from the windows, bouncing off the ripples of this deep ocean doorway.
And there, in the dark, humanoids. Tall, elongated silhouettes.
Anders stepped back, but it was as if parts of him refused to move. His arms were locked in place, seemingly by an invisible force. And as he stepped back, something started pulling him in.
His limbs grew long and twisted. His knees bending and snapping at impossible angles. His scalp pulled backwards, the loose skin of his face revealing the bottom white of his eyes.
“He… help!”
It was all he managed to say, as he was pulled into the dark. Limbs were quietly ripped from his sockets, as his human frame was bent, twisted, torn, and mangled. Black water mixing with marrow as dark shapes turned Anders into what resembled an underwater cloud of flesh and cloth.
Whitney threw herself forward, slamming the door shut, leaving the bronze key on the floor.
​
Screams erupted, and I didn’t even notice they were mine. It was this primal force being pulled out of me, this need to scream. Like a baby desperate for her mother. Helen backed into a corner and sunk to the floor, with Seb trying his best to comfort her. Whitney just sat there looking at the bronze key; her face breaking out in cold sweats.
I felt something turn in my stomach and headed for the bathroom. Whitney ran after me, but she couldn’t make it in time. I burst through the bathroom door and collapsed on the floor, hyperventilating. Whitney stayed outside, looking at me in shock.
“It’s… you’re… you’re fine,” she said. “You’re okay.”
I wasn’t. But compared to Anders, panicking on the bathroom floor seemed like a mercy.
​
Whitney stayed with me as I calmed down. Seb and Helen joined us. After a few minutes of silence, Whitney excused herself. She came back with pile of notebooks. She sat down across the hall from me, making sure not to enter the bathroom.
“My dad, he… found something,” she said. “I wasn’t sure exactly what.”
“We should… we should leave,” said Helen. “We should leave right now.”
“We can climb out a window,” said Seb. “If the, uh… the door is…”
“Just… please,” sighed Whitney. “Just stay. We’ll figure it out.”
“I-I mean no offense,” said Helen. “But what… what on earth was that?”
Whitney turned the notebook to a specific page and read aloud.
​
“I’ve been marooned in this house for thirty days. I never know where the Door is. Sometimes I can hear water, sometimes not. I tried the windows, but it nearly burst my eardrums from the pressure as water came rushing in. I can’t leave. I can’t move. They wait behind the Door. They wait for me to open.”
​
Whitney scratched her head. Helen looked back and forth, as if waiting for something to make sense. Seb just shook his head.
“What… what does that even mean?” asked Helen. “What happened?”
“It has to do with the doors,” Whitney explained. “They wait behind the Door.”
“There’s nothing there,” said Seb. “There’s light coming through the windows.”
“It’s… it’s not that easy. It’s when you open it.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
​
Whitney stood up and handed Helen three notebooks.
“We can argue the details of dad’s quantum entanglement experiment later, but that’s not gonna help us.”
“So… let’s just go then,” said Seb. “Let’s leave.”
“You wanna take your chances on the front door? That it won’t come back? Go ahead.”
Seb took a few tentative steps up to the front door. Helen wanted to protest, but she just started looking back and forth. Whitney crossed her arms and turned away.
“I can’t hear anything,” said Seb. “Are you sure it’s there?”
“It’s somewhere,” said Whitney. “I don’t… I don’t know the rules. It has to do with the doors.”
​
I got up off the bathroom floor and looked at them. Seb took his hand off the front door and stepped back. Whitney turned her attention to me.
“You put yourself at risk,” said Whitney. “That could’ve killed you.”
“The bathroom?”
“The door to the bathroom. Any or all of these doors, it… it could be connected. Here, let me-“
Whitney walked up to Helen and took one of the notebooks back. She turned to one of the latter pages.
​
“The framework of passageway. Concept of thought. Paired in alignment, the darkness standing shy from the mirrored back of Empyrean. Realm unwilled and unbound, misshapen by collective subconscious. We cannot pass, our world-forgotten blocks dissipated. Like a bridge cannot be built of water, and a house cannot be built of wind. But the great craftsman blames not their tools; and eternal gold can be found in humble bronze.”
​
“Bronze,” I said. “Like the key.”
“Look, my dad, he… we weren’t on speaking terms. I’ve looked at all this for days, and all I can tell is that he was off his rocker. He died in that room.”
Whitney pointed to the study. Helen hugged Seb tight, holding back a sob.
“He couldn’t leave. He was convinced that the… the door would eat him.”
​
Helen sat down by the kitchen table. Thankfully, there was no door in-between the kitchen and the main lounge. Seb walked straight up to Whitney, grabbed her by the collar of her blouse, and slammed her up against the wall; his calm demeanor cracking at the seams.
“We shouldn’t be here,” he said. “This is your fault!”
“I-I didn’t know! It was all just ramblings! I didn’t have time to clear it all out, how… how could I have known?!”
“You recognized the key,” said Helen. “You chased after him. You asked him to wait.”
“That’s the only part that keeps coming back!” Whitney yelled. “Check the notebooks! The key, it’s… it’s everywhere! It’s everything!”
“So what do we do?” Seb asked. “Do we use it or destroy it?”
Whitney looked at the pile of notebooks she’d managed to gather from the study. It was only a handful of everything we’d seen in there, but it might be enough to get some semblance of an answer.
​
The house had six doors. The front door, the bathroom door, the study room door. On the top floor, there was another bathroom door, a door to the guest bedroom, and the main bedroom door. The bathroom door on the bottom floor was already open and considered safe. I could step in and out without a problem.
Whitney explained as best as she could.
Her father had grown increasingly paranoid since divorcing Whitney’s mother. He’d locked himself in his house, committing fully to his studies. He’d always been a bit agoraphobic, and having a reason not to leave the house was a bit of a blessing in disguise. But over time, that blessing turned into a curse. An early entry read;
“For years, I’ve longed for the presence of mind to devote myself. And now that I can, I find myself wanting. I can’t be certain. There is a Door, a passage. It binds itself seemingly spontaneously. There is a risk involved, and it is a risk I cannot take.”
​
Seb tried to call for help, but water started pouring out of his phone. Whitney found a page about “semi-passages” or “shortcuts”. Things that could be used as portals to another person or place. They weren’t as conceptually clean as a door, and thus wouldn’t invite “Them”, but the connection would go through that dark place. The place that, somehow, her father had stumbled upon.
I looked at the key for a long time. I didn’t dare to touch it. It was unassuming, in a way. It was old and had this sort of blocky texture; like it was made of little squares. While Helen and Seb rifled through notebooks, Whitney looked up and talked to me.
“He just wanted a way to go wherever he wanted, without having to traverse the space in-between. To just go from one door to another. All he needed was a key.”
“But why now? Why is… how are we trapped?” I asked. “We got in here just fine.”
“The realtor,” sighed Whitney. “He tried to leave with the key. I think that triggered it.”
“So how do we un-trigger it?”
Whitney shrugged and pointed to the notebooks.
​
We had endless discussions. We compared notes, drew out theories. Helen thought we could force the bronze key out a window, but Whitney theorized that it’d just leave us locked inside. I suggested we listened at each door, just to eliminate which ones were safe and which weren’t. We tried, but there was seemingly no way to tell. Sometimes I could hear rushing water on the other side. Scratches on the wood. Other times, nothing. Even going back to the same door, it’d sound differently each time.
We considered opening several doors at once. We spread ourselves out. I was at the upstairs bedroom door, right next to Seb by the guest room door. Whitney was downstairs by the study door, and Helen insisted on the front door. We all put our hands on the handles. I wasn’t sure if I could hear something on the other side or not; my heart was pounding too loudly.
There were six doors. Five were closed, one open. Someone was probably going to die.
“There is only ever one Door. He only speaks of it as a singular. It can change over time,” said Whitney. “This is our best shot.”
“We can’t know for sure,” said Seb. “And why do we even want to open them all? There’s nothing in the bedrooms, right?”
“We’re excluding,” I said. “Like we did with the downstairs bathroom.”
“We should close it,” said Helen. “Shouldn’t that improve our chances of… of our other doors being okay?”
“I have no idea,” sighed Whitney. “Are we doing this?”
Seb backed away from his door, taking the hand off the handle.
“It ain’t right,” he said. “None of it. It ain’t right.”
​
Everything erupted into an argument. Seb couldn’t bring himself to risk his life for anything less than an exit, and Helen couldn’t stop crying at the thought of that dark abyss. I couldn’t blame her. To this day, I can’t stop imagining it. Whitney, trying to act as a voice of reason, read aloud from one of the notebooks.
“The concept of the passageway, the Door, changes at the flick of a thought. An alien thought, like an invisible, uncontrollable shadow of the psyche. It refuses to be controlled. My exit could be my end; or as likely, a wooden frame. Much like we cannot control the smoke of a campfire, we cannot foresee the turning of the passageway.”
We all looked at one another. Helen collapsed by the front door, crying. Whitney was close to a mental breakdown. I felt this enormous burden settle in my stomach, like I was missing something.
​
“Let’s take the door off the hinges”, said Seb. “We’ll turn it into a… an arch. Then it ain’t a door anymore. You think that’ll work?”
“In theory, maybe,” said Whitney. “But how do we do that without opening it?”
“We’ll… we’ll take the whole frame off,” Seb said. “There’s a crowbar under the sink. Saw it when I checked the garbage disposal.”
Helen bent down next to the sink, put her hand on the kitchen cabinet handle. I gasped.
Was that considered a door? Could it kill her? Would it?
​
I imagined that dark, cold abyss. That enormous force pulling me in, turning my very form into this unrecognizable mass. Where no screams can be heard. All I’d have to show for such unimaginable anguish would be a burst of bubbles; then nothing.
“No!” I cried out. “Stop!”
But it was too late.
​
Nothing happened. Helen opened it, pulled out the crowbar, and that was that. But for a brief moment, I realized how Whitney’s father must’ve felt. That uncertainty, not knowing for sure if that one flick of the wrist would be damnation; or nothing.
Helen handed the crowbar to Seb, while Whitney gave me a pat on the shoulder. I couldn’t stop crying. My whole body was shaking from the sudden rush of adrenaline. Meanwhile, Seb walked up to the front door and started tapping the wood.
The theory was this; if there was no door, nothing could come through. There was no point in doing a test run, because if it didn’t work, someone would lose their life either way. It was better to have an honest chance of getting out.
Whitney gathered towels. She had this idea that, maybe, water might start leaking if the door was turned into a semi-passage, like a window. If so, we might have to find a way to quickly stop the flow.
By the time we got the towels, Seb started working on the door frame. As that first crack rang out, I heard a click.
​
The front door slid open.
​
Without a moment’s thought, Seb pushed it close. It had barely opened an inch.
We all held our breaths. We were fine. Nothing was happening.
​
“It’s… it’s clear!” Helen called out. “There’s nothing there! I saw it, it… it was nothing!”
“It can change!” Whitney yelled back. “We can’t take that risk again!”
“Like hell we can’t.”
Seb put his hand on the front door, but Whitney tackled him. The crowbar fell to the floor as Helen rushed forward to help.
“Listen!” Whitney yelled. “Just listen!”
​
A rumble, like a great whale passing in the distance. It was right there; on the other side of the front door.
Without a word, they all stood up and backed away. The door shook from the passing force. Something was definitely there.
“Then… then the rest should be fine,” said Seb. “We can get to the study.”
Whitney nodded, and the two of them burst into a sprint. Helen wasn’t convinced, but didn’t know what to say. Whitney dropped her crowbar, and as she bent to pick it up, Seb opened the door to the study.
​
Darkness.
“…no.”
Panic exploded. Helen grabbed his arms, trying to pull him out. Whitney crawled backwards, closing her eyes and covering her ears. I couldn’t watch. All I heard was Helen, screaming his name, over and over. There was a gargle. A scream turning into an inhuman screech, like a burning pig.
“Sebastian!” Helen kept repeating. “Sebastian! Sebastian!”
There was a click, and then nothing but crying. I looked up to see Helen collapsed against the study door. It had slid shut from the pressure on the other side.
“I’m… I’m coming, Sebby,” she cried. “I’m… I’m-“
She opened the door again.
And there was the study, just as we’d left it.
​
Helen collapsed on the floor, curling up into a fetal position. She kept making this child-like yowling, scratching the surface of the hardwood floor, as if trying to dig Seb back into reality. But there was nothing left. Not even water droplets on the floor.
Then there were her arms. She’d held on until the door had slammed shut. Her sleeves were torn, and her arms bloody. Not much, but there were these round little suction marks. They were already bruising, with spots of blood poking through the skin.
I sat by Helen as Whitney started rifling through the study. There were more notebooks, more theories, more diaries. Notes about experiments, clever tricks, and attempts. So far, every idea to understand the rules were in vain. We couldn’t make sure. No matter what, we could never be truly sure.
​
Two open doors. Four closed.
​
I don’t know how many hours passed. I managed to get Helen to the couch, but she was inconsolable. She could barely comprehend words anymore. She didn’t blink, and she could barely breathe. There were no coherent thoughts in her mind, just… darkness. This awful, soul-sinking darkness.
Whitney propped up the open doors with books and towels, to make sure they wouldn’t accidentally close. All the while, she kept trying to convince herself.
“We keep opening them one by one,” she said. “If we can get it to manifest in one single place, and keep that door open, we should be able to leave by another.”
The sun had started to set outside. For all intents and purposes, this still just looked like a house. The windows were clear, showing the greenery outside. Maybe it was all a lie. Maybe none of it was really happening.
But looking down at Helen, and her unblinking eyes, I knew it was the realest thing I’d ever experienced.
​
“We… there’s three of us,” I said. “Four doors. We can’t make it.”
“No, that’s perfect,” nodded Whitney. “That’s… we open all but the front door. It manifests. Then we can get out through the one safe remaining door.”
“Unless we all die. There’s nothing that says it can only be in one place.”
“It is implied,” said Whitney. “If you got a better plan, just tell me. But unless you want to starve to death, we gotta-“
“Starve?” I interrupted. “Is that what…”
I looked back at the study, where Whitney said her father had died. No words were necessary. She took a deep breath and nodded.
“He couldn’t bring himself to try,” she said. “So we have to ask ourselves what we want. A long but certain death, or a violent risk at life?”
​
The fridge, the freezer, and all the cupboards had been cleared out. Whitney found some raisins for us to share while we pondered what to do. Helen couldn’t eat. She stared blankly ahead, waiting for her mind to come wandering back.
It was dark outside. Whitney rolled the bronze key between her fingers.
“I wonder how he did it,” she sighed. “He never made any sense to me.”
“Maybe it doesn’t make sense,” I shrugged. “At least not to us.”
“Then what made him so special?”
“Well, he did have a lot of books,” I said, reaching into a pile we’d gathered from the study. “Just look at some of these.”
“Astrology of Abraham, Channels of Esoteric Geometry…”
“I like this one,” I said, holding up a little red book. “Diary of Emmett Rask.”
“Right. But it doesn’t beat the…”
Whitney pulled out another book from the pile, turning it over.
“… the thirteen faiths of the blameless mother.”
I shook my head, looking over at Helen. A handful of raisins slipped between her fingers. She didn’t even bother closing her hand.
​
Looking back at Whitney, I sighed.
“You’re right,” I said. “We have to try.”
So we did.
​
We lined ourselves up on the top floor. Helen on the far right, near the bathroom. I was on the far left, by the guest room. Whitney was in the middle, by the bedroom. Helen didn’t understand. She just mimicked us.
“We’re gonna open on three,” said Whitney. “And no matter what we see, just run. Run downstairs, and just… go. Get out.”
I nodded. Helen didn’t.
“One.”
I tightened my grip. I saw Helen follow my lead, giving me an exhausted look. She could barely keep her eyes open.
“Two.”
I started doubting which way to turn the doorknob. I’d turned a million doorknobs throughout my life, but that was the first time I’d really thought about which way to turn it. I imagined myself hearing water. Bubbles. Distant rumbles. I tried telling myself that it was all imagined. Fake. Tricks of the mind.
But in my heart of hearts, I knew it wasn’t.
“Three.”
​
We opened our doors.
All I saw was a well-made bed. A bag of toiletries; probably Whitney’s. I left the door open and turned around.
​
Helen was smiling as the darkness welcomed her.
“Come on!” Whitney screamed. “Leave her!”
The door to the bedroom was open. Clear. But I was standing just ten feet away from an endless abyss. Helen looked at it, as if searching for something. She touched the surface with an outstretched hand.
“Seb, honey,” she cried. “Sebby, please.”
A pulse shot through her. I could see the hair on her arm stand up. Her veins turning black.
“Oh, Sebby…”
​
In an instant, her flesh unraveled as it flayed itself from the inside out. Her scream stifled as something pulled her in, leaving splotches of blood behind from the outline of her feet. A pained moan escaped her; only to be turned to harmless bubbles in the pressurized void.
Whitney grabbed me by the neck and pulled me downstairs. We ran to the front door. We looked back a final time, just to make sure it was still manifested upstairs.
It was still there. We’d sacrificed Helen, but we’d make it out.
​
Whitney pulled the front door open – and stopped.
Darkness.
​
We’d been wrong.
​
Whitney turned to run as an impossibly long arm grabbed the flesh of her back; straight through her clothes. It pulled her back.
I crawled away, not being able to close my eyes.
“Help me!” she cried out. “For God’s sake fucking help me!”
I shook my head, not knowing what to do. I’ll never forget those desperate eyes. The betrayal. The pleading. She fought every inch of the way. She dug her nails into the hardwood floor. She kicked. She pulled. She screamed. But for every second she stayed, the more painful it was.
With a final snap, the fingers dug into her spine; folding her like a lawn chair.
A lifeless body, dragged across the floor. Unceremoniously pulled into the dark with a quiet squelch.
And the door, slightly damaged by Seb and his crowbar, slid shut.
​
I was all alone.
The door to the guest bedroom and the main bedroom remained open. There was the bathroom and study downstairs. Just two closed doors left; the bathroom and the front door. Both closed. Both… wrong.
There was no right answer.
​
I must’ve stayed there for days. I found some trail mix in Whitney’s bag. I had water. I could shower. I had a change of clothes. I scoured the notebooks over and over and over, trying to find the slightest hint on what to do. There had to be some way of knowing for sure. There had to be.
It wasn’t until I came across a final note that I realized it was over. It read;
“By will alone, we cannot make ourselves right. Right is right, independently of our actions and intentions. We cannot control that which never was, and we cannot be part of that which will never be. There could be no more perils for me to face, and yet, I cannot bring myself to leave. There is no certainty in the unknown, and I choose not to live by chance alone.”
​
I cried myself to sleep at night. I banged on the walls. I even tried opening a window, only to have my left eardrum blown out from the pressure drop. Got a nasty nosebleed as well.
I tried reading. I tried making up little worlds in my head. I imagined myself safe and sound.
But it was useless. In those final hours of desperate loneliness, I knew I couldn’t fool myself any longer.
I was going to die.
​
I found myself with my hand on the front door. I learned every crease of the wood. The temperature of the metal handle. I listened to it. Studied it. At times, it was quiet. At other times, it wasn’t. Sometimes I imagined it quiet, other times, I imagined voices coming from the other side.
Maybe I wasn’t imagining it.
Finally, I grasped the bronze key. Starving, exhausted, and mentally broken – I opened the front door.
​
Sunshine.
And there, on the fresh-cut lawn, was another realtor.
Just as confused as I was.
​
So, turns out I was only in there for about 16 hours total. And to this day, no one seems to remember neither Anders, Seb, Helen, or Whitney. According to every document I can find, the owner of the house had no children. The cars parked outside were unregistered. On paper, it seemed like the entire world had forgotten that these people were ever part of this plane of existence.
I don’t think anyone’s lying here. There was a sincere disbelief and confusion to every piece of my story. To onlookers, I seemed like a squatter that’d gone insane.
I’ve tried to find anything about this. They won’t let me go back to read the notes. The investment firm who owns the real estate company swept it all under a rug and tore the place down. I suspect they were the ones who made the bronze key mysteriously disappear from the evidence room.
I’ve tried to find copies of the books I found in there. Some of them have been seen in passing on strange message boards, and one just keeps making my computer turn off whenever I try to google it. Who the hell is Emmett Rask anyway?
​
If anyone knew these people, or have heard about this phenomenon, please… I need to know I’m sane. I need to know this isn’t all a dream. I need to know I won’t wake up with my hand on that front door, having imagined living a life back outside.
This has to be real. I am real. There is nothing on the other side of the door.
Go ahead, listen. There’s nothing there.
It can’t be.
​
Can it?

Nestled in northern Lawrence County, Indiana, just six miles from Bedford, lies Ramsey Ridge Road. Just under three miles in length, the rural pathway once referred to as “Skin Ridge'' winds through the sparsely populated area’s dense woods atop a hill overlooking Little Salt Creek and nearby Bartlettsville. In the 1970’s, two completely unrelated deaths occurred within the confines of a modest green house that once stood along the ridge. Referred to by locals as “The Mysteries of Skin Ridge,” this is the story of the unusual deaths of Dennis McArthur, and Gerry Lee.
Dennis McArthur
On April 11, 1976, 44-year-old Pearl McArthur returned home after a lengthy stay at Madison State Hospital. Pearl, who would later be diagnosed with schizophrenia, had committed herself to the hospital in early December, leaving her 18-year-old son, Dennis, to care for the house in her absence. Accompanied by her 23-year-old daughter, April, who lived in nearby Bedford with her husband Gary, Pearl made her way inside the small two-story farmhouse.
Inside, Pearl and April found the home in complete disarray. Trash laid strewed about, lamps and furniture were overturned, and the stove was caved in, its exhaust pipe torn from the wall. It was unusually cold inside as though no heat had been recently used, and a strange smell permeated the air.
Alarmed, Pearl and April began to frantically search for Dennis. As they made their way over to a small couch located in a bedroom on the second floor, they noticed a pile of blankets lying on the sofa. As Pearl peeled back the layer of quilts, she was met with a horrific scene; Dennis’s decomposed body lay beneath the bedding. They immediately summoned police.
Dennis was found in a fetal position on the couch, facing inwards. Although covered by quilts, he was nude from the waist down. The coroner estimated he had died one to two months prior, however the cold weather had, in part, delayed the decomposition process making it difficult to give an exact time of death. During an autopsy, it was discovered that Dennis was severely emaciated, to the point of starvation. No evidence of external or internal injuries were found.
Police discovered several bottles of pills in the home; vitamins used for energy, an antidepressant, and a drug used in the treatment of Parkinson’s disease. All of the pills were prescribed to Pearl, and were still relatively full. A toxicology test was conducted and proved negative, however the state pathologist who performed the test admitted that the test was incapable of detecting substances such as LSD. He also explained due to the amount of time that had passed since his death, the tests might not be one hundred percent accurate. Dennis’ cause of death was listed as malnutrition and exposure.
Investigators found several clues at the scene that struck them as odd. Although the cabin appeared ransacked, nothing seemed to be missing, including a small amount of money that was found within the disheveled home. Along with money, a small amount of, now spoiled, food was found in the cabinets and refrigerator. An upstairs window was found to be broken from the inside. Also upstairs, investigators discovered several large pools of blood, including one beside the couch where Dennis’ body was found. They also found blood on the backside of the couch, on a rug, and on the kitchen door frame, along with splatter on a wall. Testing confirmed the blood to be human.
Dennis was well known to both police and the county’s social workers. His mother, Pearl, was frequently in and out of mental institutions leaving Dennis and his two siblings to fend for themselves. The children’s father, Walter, had abandoned the family and moved to Georgia years prior. In 1972, Dennis was arrested for theft and truancy. That same year, he was expelled from school and never returned.
He was again arrested in 1973, this time for driving without a license, fleeing from police, possession of alcohol, and curfew violation. After his release, Dennis was sent to live with a man named Al Hagopian, a case worker for the Youth Services Bureau. Al was quoted as saying; “Finding him a place to stay was hard. The house where he had been staying was pretty grubby, and the state thought he was too young to live alone. His mother was in and out of hospitals a lot and he worried about her constantly. He didn’t want to return home, but said he had to go back to help care for his mother.”
Al discovered that Dennis “read and wrote backwards,” and was “practically illiterate.” After reviewing Dennis’ school records, he found multiple instances where teachers labeled Dennis as having disciplinary problems when it came to schoolwork, however not once did they mention he had a clear learning disability. Al further explained that attempts to secure employment for Dennis were nearly never successful. Aside from being unable to read or write, he had no vehicle. He also had no stable address or phone number and was oftentimes dirty and dressed in near rags.
Dennis’ unfair hand he had been dealt did not stop him from trying to act like an average kid most of the time, Al added. He explained that Dennis had an interest in cars, enjoyed hanging out with his friends, and was always chasing girls. He had also told Al he wanted to someday save up enough money for a new guitar, as he loved to play music. Al admitted that Dennis was also into the “street scene” and had dabbled in drugs and alcohol. Dennis returned home after two months of living with Al.
In 1974, after another arrest and his subsequent release from a youth detention center, Dennis went to live with his father for a short time. Dennis’ arrest had made headlines when it was learned the young man had been kept with adult men for a long period before being transferred to the youth detention center. Dennis and Walter reportedly couldn’t get along, however, and Dennis ran away to Florida. He lived there for a few months, washing cars to make money, before returning to the home on Ramsey Ridge in Indiana in 1975. He was again arrested, this time in Bloomington, Indiana for carrying a concealed weapon, alcohol consumption, and curfew violation. At the time of Dennis’ death, the charges against him were still pending.
According to his sister, April, she had gone to visit Dennis at the home on Ramsey Ridge on Christmas Eve. April said Dennis was sitting on the couch, playing his guitar. He also showed her a new rug he had purchased for the home. According to her, he seemed his usual self and the home was clean. April offered him some money, however Dennis refused claiming he had enough to get by.
Lucy Lively, an aunt of Dennis’ who lived “within hollering distance,” claimed she entered the home on February 1st to turn off a lamp that had been left burning. While she did not see Dennis, she claimed the home's interior was in normal order. Joe McArthur, Dennis’ paternal grandfather who also lived nearby, said it was not unusual for Dennis to disappear for long periods, so he thought nothing of the youths' absence as of late.
When Walter, Dennis’ father, was informed of his son's death, he informed police that Dennis, along with two male friends, had come to visit him in Georgia in mid December. He gave a description of the two teens and told police they had been introduced to him as “John Boy'' and “Blonde John.”
Police were able to track down “Blonde John” who was identified as 18-year-old John Fonk of Bloomington, Indiana. John told investigators that he and Dennis had driven to Florida together in October, not December, as Walter had stated. John explained they had stopped by Walter’s home in Georgia on their way back home. He was confident in the date as he had joined the Air Force in December. He also explained that “John Boy” had been a hitchhiker they had picked up along the way. According to John, “John Boy” rode back to Indiana with the pair, but he had not seen him, or Dennis since. He described him as being in his mid 20’s. After learning of the discrepancy in Walter’s story, police again tried to contact him, however phone calls and letters went unanswered. Unfortunately, they were never able to identify “John Boy.”
Further questioning of social services showed that Pearl had filled several grocery orders provided by state services, however the orders ceased when she had been again hospitalized. Eventually the Lawrence County Welfare Office had taken control and promised to look in on Dennis, however they could provide no evidence they had followed up on the case. They suggested that Dennis, overwhelmed with his impoverished lifestyle, had simply starved himself to the point of being comatose, before succumbing to the harsh cold of winter. They were quoted as saying “We were aware of him of course, but he never came to us. We don’t go looking for people if they don’t come to us for help. Now if he had, we would have done something.”
The local sheriff as well as members of Dennis’ family were unsatisfied with Dennis’ listed cause of death and continued to pursue the investigation for several months. Unfortunately due to a lack of funds, more elaborate tests that may have presented some clue as to how Dennis died could not be conducted. Sheriff Robbins was quoted as saying, “This is a very disturbing mystery, because even if someone confessed to killing him, I doubt we would have the evidence to prove it. But it sure is hard to believe he could kill himself like that, by just laying down and dying. We aren’t closing the case, it will remain open. But until we have something more to go on, there’s not much more we can do at this point.”
Dennis was laid to rest at Heltonville’s Gilgal Cemetery. Few attended the modest closed casket funeral and subsequent burial. One journalist gave a last description of Dennis’ final resting place,
“The dogwood trees are in full bloom on the hillsides of Gilgal Cemetery, and though Dennis’ body now rests peacefully beneath a carpet of fallen petals, his soul will surely never rest until the reasons behind his death are discovered.”
Pearl, Dennis’ mother, passed away in 2000 at the age of 67. Walter, Dennis’ father, died in 1988. His sister, April, passed away suddenly in 2006 at the age of 53. Dennis also had an older brother, Gordon, who passed away in 1994 at the age of 42.
Gerry Lee
On the evening of May 28, 1978, police were again summoned to the little green house on Ramsey Ridge. The home was now occupied by 27-year-old Gerry Lee, a divorced self employed carpenter, and his roommate, 25-year-old Michael Davis. When police arrived, Michael informed them that Gerry had committed suicide.
Gerry was found hanging from a maple tree located 20 feet from the home's front porch. The rope had been tied off to a branch approximately 10 feet above the ground and fashioned into a noose. His feet were found to be touching the ground, and his knees were bent. Blood was discovered on Gerry’s hands and pants, despite having suffered no visible wounds. An autopsy would reveal that Gerry had died of asphyxiation as a result of a fracture to his cricoid cartilage located at the base of his larynx. The coroner stated this was not an injury normally associated with suicidal hangings, but instead blunt force trauma to the throat. Inside, more blood was found on a television set, the phone, and on the kitchen floor. A window on the home's back door had been broken from the outside, leaving shards of glass lying on the kitchen floor.
When questioned, Michael gave an explanation for the unusual findings. He claimed that he, Gerry, and two other friends, Mike Oakly and Roberta Chandler, had spent the day in nearby Bedford before the foursome returned to the home on Ramsey Ridge. There, Michael told police that he and Gerry got into a “friendly scuffle” that resulted in Michael falling into the window in the kitchen. He suffered a deep laceration to his forehead that left him bleeding profusely.
According to Michael, Roberta and Mike accompanied him to seek medical treatment in Bedford, while Gerry stayed behind at home. Michael returned home alone from the hospital, having left Roberta and Mike in town. It was then he discovered Gerry’s body and summoned police. He added that that evening Gerry had threatened to shoot himself multiple times with one of the loaded guns kept in the home.
When Roberta and Mike were taken in for questioning, they gave similar accounts of the night's events. Both were released. Aside from having a visible wound, medical staff confirmed Michael had been to the hospital that evening, having sought treatment for a laceration to his forehead.
Still, both the prosecutor and the county coroner stated they were not entirely satisfied with a verdict of suicide. The coroner stated “Some things have not fallen into place like they should with a suicide case. Although it looks as though it could be a suicide, there are so many angles that do not fit in with the suicide verdict.” The prosecutor agreed, “I’m not satisfied with how the investigation was handled,” he said, “and there are still a lot of unanswered questions. Several months later, Gerry’s case was brought before a grand jury who ultimately returned a verdict of “probable suicide.”
Gerry was laid to rest in Bedford’s Breckenridge Cemetery. Despite his death being declared a suicide, many locals, including Gerry’s friends and neighbors, continued to believe that something more sinister may have happened that evening, and the suicide was in fact staged. The community’s more superstitious elders shared a similar belief, however adding that a “strange ethereal force” inhabited the room where Gerry once slept, and where two years prior the body of Dennis had been discovered.
Whatever your opinion may be, it seems for some the books will never fully be closed on “The Mysteries of Skin Ridge.”
Sources
Newspaper Clippings, Death Certificates, Photos- https://imgur.com/a/4kQ3rEl
Find a Grave Dennis- https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/63100083/dennis-scott-mcarthur
Find a Grave Pearl- https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/254365281/pearl-m-mcarthur?createdMemorial=Yes
Find a Grave Walter- https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/80652726/walter-rufus-mcarthur
Find a Grave Gerry- https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/47074796/gerry-wayne-lee
National Library of Medicine- https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/22442828/#:~:text=Overall%2C%20neck%20structures%20fractures%20were,the%20cricoid%20cartilage%20of%2020.6%25.

Hi everybody! I'm looking for a roommate for the master bedroom (with private bathroom) in my house in Noe Valley starting ASAP (flexible on date) for $1,950/month plus utilities (only gas and electric;water and trash are already included in rent).
The apartment: Photos here: https://imgur.com/a/PImgbOKIt is a 2.5B2BA and you would be living with one other person (me, 27F) and my super sweet dog, Mishka (no other pets please, sorry!). The extra "half" bedroom is used as an office/storage space/guest room. The room available for rent is the master bedroom with its own private ensuite bathroom and a large closet with sliding mirror doors. There is a washedryer and dishwasher in unit, and each room has it's own private heateradiator so you can set the temperature to whatever you like in your room. The living room and kitchen are fully furnished (65" TV!), so you only need to bring things for your own room! There's tons of natural light all throughout the unit and it is recently renovated with recessed lighting, hardwood floors, new appliances. It is a 2 unit duplex and my unit is on the first floor. The upstairs neighbor is a super sweet older gentleman who doesn't make any noise. A great part about it is that it's a back unit duplex so the front door to my unit does not go out onto the street, which means it's safer and gets no street noise. There is a main door (shared with the other unit) which leads to a common backyard space (where I have chairs and a table set up for hanging out) and then a second door leading to our actual unit.
The location: 5 second walk to the J-Church muni metro line which takes you straight downtown/FiDi and to BART, 5 second walk to Sanchez slow street (best slow street in the city), steps away from a park/tennis and basketball courts/recreational area, next door to a produce market, tons of fantastic restaurants and cafes, EXTREMELY safe and quiet neighborhood, easy access to the freeway (280 entrance is only a few blocks away, 101 only a couple blocks further), good parking, sunniest and warmest neighborhood in the city, close to the Mission and Dolores Park (20 min walk, or the metro line takes you straight there).
About me: I work in biotech, grew up in Sunnyvale, and have lived in Israel and Denmark as well. I love traveling and visiting new national parks and backpacking. During the week I spend my evenings walking Mishka, at hot yoga, getting dinner with friends, painting, reading or just being lazy on the couch. I prefer to keep the place pretty mellow on the weekdays. On the weekends I love to go out hiking or to the beach or the park, get brunch, go out for drinks, live shows, go visit family, cook meals and cocktails and host dinner parties, etc! It is really important for me to keep my home tidy and clean, especially in common areas. I'm super friendly and social and love to be around my friends/family and am usually out of the house the entire weekend and hope to find a roommate to spend time with as well! PS. Mishka is a super mellow, quiet and sweet 8 year old boy who lounges in one of his beds most of the day. I get him professionally groomed monthly so he barely sheds at all and smells like mangoes. He is very well-behaved and doesn't bother anyone, and just loves to just hang out!
About you: I'm looking for someone similar in age, who is a full-time working professional, responsible, likes dogs, likes to keep common spaces clean and organized, and wants to be friends! Females only please 🙂
Please DM me if you're interested!

I'm looking at two models: the FFFU20F2VW (or the 16 Cu ft.) and the GE FUF21DLRWW (or the 14.1 Cu ft.). First, I'm unsure if I'm getting a 14-15 Cu. ft., or a 20 Cu ft. Both of these models have their equivalent. Second, I'm worried about the fan problems with the Frigidaire model; the reviews mention this a lot.
I, usually, use Yale Appliance's website to look for the most reliable brand, but it's not listed for freezers. What should I get?
GE 20 Cu. Ft:
https://www.homedepot.ca/product/ge-21-3-cu-ft-frost-free-upright-freezer-in-white/1001089801
Frigidaire 20 Cu. Ft:
https://www.bestbuy.ca/en-ca/product/frigidaire-20-cu-ft-frost-free-upright-freezer-ffue2022aw-white/15757287
​
Frigidaire 16 Cu Ft:
https://www.bestbuy.ca/en-ca/product/frigidaire-15-5-cu-ft-frost-free-upright-freezer-fffu16f2vw-white/14126466
GE 14.1 Cu Ft:
https://www.homedepot.ca/product/ge-garage-ready-14-1-cu-ft-frost-free-upright-freezer-in-white/1001170208
​
I am buying from Canada. Thanks all!

After the conversation we've been having today regarding number retirements, especially after u/NotJuniorBridgeman's question reminded me of Chuck Cooper's status as the only player in the Hall of Fame to have never either made an all-star game or had their jersey retired, I started to think about how the MLB has every team wear Jackie Robinson's #42 on the anniversary of his debut. Since the NBA doesn't exactly have a singular Jackie Robinson-esque figure, I thought I'd make a list of which player each team would be most likely to honor if they did something similar. Let me know of any alternate suggestions you have, there are five or so where I feel like there should be a better answer but there just isn't that I'm aware of.
Atlanta Hawks: Pop Gates (first post-war Black NBL player, sparked pro ball's integration movement)
Boston Celtics: Chuck Cooper (integrated the NBA as a Celtic)
Brooklyn Nets: Dolly King (integrated the NBL along with Gates, first gained fame at LIU)
Charlotte Hornets: Tex Harrison (first HBCU player to be an All-American, played 18 years with the Globetrotters)
Chicago Bulls: Sonny Boswell (1940s star for the Rens and Globetrotters, one of the seven Black players the Chicago Studebakers integrated the wartime NBL with)
Cleveland Cavaliers: Willie Smith (At one point the best player in the world while on the Rens, Cleveland native who integrated the NBL's Cleveland Chase Brass and played for the Dayton Rens)
Dallas Mavericks: Harry Rusan (nine years with the Globetrotters after a college career at Paul Quinn)
Denver Nuggets: Ziggy Marcell (eight years with the Globetrotters, briefly integrated the NPBL Denver Refiners in 1950-51)
Detroit Pistons: Willie King (integrated the NBL's Detroit Gems)
Golden State Warriors: Don Barksdale (first Black All-Star and a whole bunch of other firsts)
Houston Rockets: Woody Sauldsberry (first player from an HBCU (Texas Southern) to make an All-Star Game)
Indiana Pacers: Dave DeJernett (first Black man to lead an integrated HS basketball team to a state championship, later played for Rens and other barnstorming teams)
Los Angeles Clippers: Ermer Robinson (from San Diego, but I'm letting them have him since they used to be there, SDSU and Globetrotters star famous for making the game-winner in a win over the Lakers)
Los Angeles Lakers: Jackie Robinson (UCLA All-American, star of the Los Angeles Red Devils)
Memphis Grizzlies: Harold Hunter (technically the first Black NBA player since he signed his training camp contract seconds before Earl Lloyd, college coach beginning as McLendon's successor at Tennessee State)
Miami Heat: Will Allen (integrated University of Miami basketball)
Milwaukee Bucks: Jack Mann (integrated the Sheboygan Redskins years before joining the NBL)
Minnesota Timberwolves: Bob Williams (integrated the Minneapolis Lakers)
New Orleans Pelicans: Bill Russell (he's Bill Russell)
New York Knicks: Nathaniel Clifton (integrated the NBA as a Knick)
Oklahoma City Thunder: Marques Haynes (six years with the Globetrotters, starred HS and college in Oklahoma)
Orlando Magic: John Chaney (starred for Bethune-Cookman in the 1950s, played 11 years of minor league ball, 24 years coaching Temple)
Philadelphia 76ers: Tarzan Cooper (Commonly regarded as the greatest pre-NBA black player while with the Rens, always lived in Philadelphia aside from during the basketball season)
Phoenix Suns: T.C. Dean (high school legend, averaged 18/17 for an undefeated Grand Canyon team while being the university's only Black student)
Portland Trail Blazers: Chuck Patterson (Portland native, played for various 1940s AAU teams in Oregon and integrated the PCL as a member of the Bellingham Fircrests)
Sacramento Kings: Wilmeth Sidat-Singh (integrated the team years before they even joined the NBL)
San Antonio Spurs: Bobby Joe Hill (star for 1965-66 Texas Western)
Toronto Raptors: Fred Thomas (Canadian barnstorming star, didn't make 1952 Canada national team because of his race)
Utah Jazz: Zelmo Beaty (went from refusing to report to the Utah Stars to owning a house in SLC the rest of his life)
Washington Wizards: Earl Lloyd (integrated the NBA as a member of the Washington Capitols)

The pink stuff cleans everything The Pink Stuff paste can be used to clean a variety of surfaces, including kitchen appliances, bathroom fixtures, and outdoor furniture. It removes stains, grease, and much more. Learn all the tings you can use The Pink Stuff for in your home! https://honesthoneyreviews.blogspot.com/2023/05/ discover-magic-of-pink-stuff-ultimate.html

The pink stuff cleans everything The Pink Stuff paste can be used to clean a variety of surfaces, including kitchen appliances, bathroom fixtures, and outdoor furniture. It removes stains, grease, and much more. Learn all the tings you can use The Pink Stuff for in your home! https://honesthoneyreviews.blogspot.com/2023/05/ discover-magic-of-pink-stuff-ultimate.html

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I'm starting to make healthier choices (starting with exercise) and I'm wanting this to extend to cooking.
Something that has really been motivating me to exercise are fitness video games like Ring Fit Adventure and Let's Get Fit. Both of these will give you rewards and track when you've done a fitness move a certain number of times. I really like reaching these achievements and am trying to think of ways that I can extend this gamification to cooking.
Does anyone have ideas for how to DIY this or know of existing cooking gamification? Like, it would be so cool an app could track the number of days in a row I've cooked, unlocking achievements of using different kitchen appliances or ingredients, and other things that would motivate the internal collector in me. Any thoughts?

My AC isn't working, yet again, and it's 29 Celsius in my house. I'm hoping to find someone who can take a look at it and not immediately jump to saying "it's beyond help; let's buy a new one right now"
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My dad has a friend who is in the industry, and he's taken a look at it twice before and got it working. I'm a bit sick of him being personable around me, but then telling my dad that my home is a shithole and all my appliances are doomed to fail any day now, and then having to listen to my dad harangue me. On top of him generally taking weeks to get back to me
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I just want someone to explain to me what the problem is, be honest about whether it needs replacing or not and teach me how to use this stupid Honeywell thermostat that I absolutely cannot find any online documentation about. My mum jealously guarded the thermostat when we were kids, so I've no idea how to work such an old-looking piece. I'm sure it's hilariously easy and I'm just an idot
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Like too many other people in our province, country, planet, I'm also barely getting by financially. An honest examination and explanation would be hugely appreciated, so I can get an idea of how to get this solved. I don't know if the AC unit does need to be replaced, and if I could even afford to do so. It sure would be nice to be able to sleep again, and we haven't even dipped our fingertips into summer yet
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Thanks in advance