Bronson vascular battle creek

It was a quiet evening in the small village of Willow Creek, but the peacefulness was shattered when a new arrival came to town. The villagers soon learned that she was a witch, with a reputation for dark magic and sinister spells.
The witch's name was Morgana, and she lived in a small cottage on the outskirts of the village. Her presence seemed to cast a shadow over the entire area, and the villagers kept their distance, whispering about her behind closed doors.
But then strange things began to happen in Willow Creek. People went missing, and the livestock started dying off one by one. The villagers knew that something was not right, and they started to suspect Morgana.
One night, a group of villagers decided to confront the witch. Armed with torches and pitchforks, they marched towards her cottage, ready to drive her out of town.
But Morgana was ready for them. She emerged from her cottage, her eyes glowing with an otherworldly light. She raised her arms and chanted a spell that sent a blast of energy towards the villagers.
They tried to fight back, but Morgana's magic was too powerful. One by one, they fell to the ground, their bodies writhing in pain. Morgana cackled with glee, reveling in the destruction she had caused.
The villagers soon realized that they had made a grave mistake by underestimating the witch's power. They tried to flee, but Morgana was always one step ahead of them.
For months, the village was plagued by Morgana's dark magic. People lived in constant fear, never knowing when she would strike next. It seemed like there was no hope for Willow Creek.
But then, one day, a young girl named Lily stepped forward. She had always been fascinated by magic, and she had a plan to defeat Morgana once and for all.
With the help of a few brave villagers, Lily set out to find the one thing that could destroy Morgana's power: a rare herb that grew deep in the forest.
They journeyed deep into the woods, battling through the thick underbrush and avoiding the dangerous creatures that lurked within. But in the end, they found the herb they were looking for.
Lily brought the herb back to the village and used it to create a potion that would weaken Morgana's power. She and the other villagers bravely stormed the witch's cottage, confronting her in a final showdown.
With the power of the potion, Lily was able to defeat Morgana and free the village from her grip of terror. From that day forward, Willow Creek was a place of peace and prosperity, and the villagers never forgot the brave girl who saved them from the evil witch.

Visit article from The New York Times (Grade: A-) or alternatively:

Source (Grade)	Link to article
CNN.com (C-)	DeSantis teases ‘more to come’ on latest twist in Disney battle: ‘You ain’t seen nothing yet’
Orlando Sentinel (B+)	Moody seeks Disney-Reedy Creek records; DeSantis says, ‘you ain’t seen nothing yet’
Insider (B-)	DeSantis warns Disney World the fight over control isn't over
Deadline Hollywood (B-)	Ron DeSantis Tells Disney “You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet” On Reedy Creek

More: DeSantis’s Oversight Board ... FAQ & Grades I'm a bot

My friend who helped me set up this account has repeatedly asked me to post this story since I mentioned in my HOA post about how my parents hated me and only loved my sister. So I may as well tell it.
I was born when my mother and father were only 17. It forced my both of my parents to drop out of high school and each get a G.E.D. so they could find work right away. My father especially was not happy about this because he had dreams of playing football in college, and instead he had to work at a gas station. He said to my face many times that I ruined his dream. My mother hardly raised me at all as she had to work too. They had a cranky old lady next door watch me most of the time. She wasn't so bad. She gave me more attention than my parents did. My father eventually managed to land a better job as a manager due to his experience running the gas station. It was right after that my mom got pregnant with my sister. I was six when she was born. I wasn't exactly shown much love before that. But once my sister came along, it was made pretty obvious to even my six year old self that I was unwanted. The only ones who seemed to care were my paternal grandparents and somewhat my babysitter. And they were more like my parents because they treated me the way a little kid needed to be loved.
We lived in a two bedroom apartment. And as my sister got older, it went from me sharing a bedroom with her, to me kicked out of the room entirely. I slept on the couch for two years. And I barely had anything to my name other than clothes, school supplies and an old Gameboy. When I was ten, my parents decided they were gonna move away. But this move did not include me. I ended up actually being fine with this, as my grandparents had agreed to take me in. My life was instantly better. I got my own room again, and my grandparents gifted me a brand new N64 in 1996. That Christmas I got a Gameboy Pocket too. And there were a couple of other kids my age in the neighborhood I got to hang out with. We rode bikes, played video games, shot cans with pellet guns, built forts, and got dirty playing in the creek. You know, stuff a normal kid would enjoy. I was finally happy.
As time went on, I grew up and eventually moved out. But later moved back in to help my grand parents house as they were getting old and living off their retirement savings. So some rent money from me went a long way in paying the bills. My grandpa was the kind of person who'd wanted to build a bomb shelter during the cold war. But never got around to it. He wanted to volunteer for the military in the 60s, but was turned down due to a medical condition and the fact his eyesight was not great. So he focused on saving whatever he thought he needed. He told me many times it was better to have something and not need it, than need it and not have it. Our area suffered from numerous power outages in winter due to heavy winds and storms. So having gasoline and propane for heaters and generators was a must. All these saving habits became my own as time went on. Because it was better to need this stuff rarely, than not have it at all.
Of course there was the HOA bothering us. But that's it's own other story. The problem is, about five years back my grandma died suddenly. And my grandpa was heartbroken. He also went about a year and a half later. Pretty much everything they owned was willed to me. Their savings, their house, their vehicles, their stuff, EVERYTHING! The house was long paid off, and grandpa knew how to keep up with it's maintenance. In fact, after grandma died he kind of doubled down on renovating the place. He had the roof redone, the house was repainted by us inside and out, and we fixed a lot of little things. Grandpa's neighbor George even came by to help redo the plumbing. Ironically the HOA was rather happy with these changes, because the house didn't look rundown anymore. One morning I was fixing breakfast and my grandpa never came downstairs. You couldn't keep the man from his bacon. So I went to check on him. And he wasn't moving. I called 911 and paramedics came. Only to tell me he'd passed in his sleep.
My parents made grandpa's funeral a shit show. They didn't bother to show up for grandma's. They were too busy. And at grandpa's funeral they didn't seem to grieve at all. My sister also showed up wearing a brightly colored designer dress. Which I wasn't happy about as it was a church clothes only function. I noticed my parents repeatedly whispering to each other and glaring at me whenever I looked at them. Come to find out at the will reading that my parents knew that they'd been disinherited long ago for their treatment of me. And they thought it extremely unfair I got everything. They threatened to sue me to contest the will. And I got repeated calls and messages from my father, mother and sister telling me I needed to do the right thing and give my father what was supposed to be his. I told them all to flake off in far more unsavory words.
My parents ended up taking me to court to challenge the will. But the judge ruled in my favor after seeing the will and hearing us both out. So it wasn't a long drawn out legal battle. The judge even looked at my parents with absolute disgust after seeing the will and hearing about their mistreatment of me in my childhood. He called my father a terrible parent, and that my grandparents were right to disown him. My father just hung his head in silence, but he made sure to stop me outside the courtroom and tell me I was always the biggest mistake of his life. And that if he could go back in time, he'd make sure I never existed. He should have been a football star. And instead he has to wear a nametag for a 9 to 5. I told him that mistake or not, Grandma and grandpa could see what kind of nasty person he was. I didn't ask to be born. And the only real love I ever got was from my grandparents. And he was no father of mine anymore.
I got a few more threatening and harassing phone calls, as well as some letters from my parents. All demanding money among other things. But over time they just stopped because I completely stonewalled them. Never responded to the emails or letters, and I stayed silent during the phone calls. A few times I just left the phone sitting on the counter with them ranting till they realized I wasn't listening. Aside from not getting the house or money, my parents seemed particularly irked they could not even get a rise out of me. But I was prepared to go to war against them. And they knew it. So in the end they just left me alone. From what I know looking at face-book the past decade, my sister tried to get into modeling, got married, had two kids, got divorced, and is currently unhappily working a job she feels is beneath her. My mother currently works retail, and is also vocal about her disdain of it. Like my father, she peaked in high school. She was a cheerleader back then, and even had her old uniform framed on the wall. My father has pretty much had the same job for 25 years. He must be good at it if he's still doing it.
As for me. Well I'm in my late 30s now. And I live pretty much debt free in a nice neighborhood. I haven't really had a girlfriend since highschool. And I've had little motivation to ever have another relationship. But loneliness gets to everyone. So maybe I'll try to find someone soon. Not many are in the financial position I'm in at my age. Single, paid off house, two vehicles, and a decent amount in the bank. I guess I could aim to be a stepfather. That might be more my speed.

Ghost Cannons of Antietam / by Cindy R.
About a year ago my husband and I went to Antietam Battlefield in Sharpsburg, Maryland on a hot Sunday afternoon. While I loved the beauty of the countryside, my husband was interested in learning more about the place where the bloodiest battle in the Civil War was fought.
We drove through the battlefields, stopping and reading the monuments to dead soldiers. After a while we stopped and parked and began walking around an area we later found out was known as Burnside Bridge.
Maryland summer days are notoriously hot and humid and the bugs and gnats were unrelenting. We thought going down beside the bridge, where the Antietam Creek ran coolly underneath it, would give us a break from the heat. To get there we had to hike a bit, but finally we came down to the bridge.
There were a few people on it, staring into the water. My husband and I walked around it and remarked how pretty the area was, that it would be a nice place to picnic, then we went off a little ways under some trees. Suddenly, we both felt a terrible feeling -- a horrible sadness or feeling of doom, I'm not sure which. The bridge no longer looked pretty, the whole area seemed menacing.
Then my husband remarked to me, "Where are all the bugs?" The area was unnaturally silent: no crickets, and no gnats, which is strange near water.
"I wonder if something bad happened here," I said.
We looked at the other people, enjoying themselves and wondered what was wrong with us. "Must be the heat," he said.
Suddenly, I heard a booming in the distance. "What's that?" I asked. "Is a thunderstorm coming?" Then I heard another one and my husband did too. It didn't sound anything like thunder.
"Those are cannons," he said. Having been in the military, he knew what one sounded like. We looked at the people on the bridge, but they seemed oblivious to the sound, or else didn't think it remarkable. We heard cannon after cannon. "It must be a reenactment," I said.
But still, both of us felt such a feeling of doom that we decided it was time to leave. "We'll check at the main building and see what reenactments are going on today," he said. Quickly leaving the area, we stopped and looked once more at the bridge. The bad feeling didn't stop and neither did the cannons.
As we drove away from the bridge toward the visitor center, the cannon sounds stopped.
We went inside to inquire about the cannons and the man looked at us strangely and said, "There are no cannons going off today." "How about fireworks?" we asked. "Nothing like that at all," he said.
As we drove away, we discussed what had happened, sure of what we had experienced. We sort of hoped for a thunderstorm to roll in and explain it all away, but that never happened either.
Later that night, as I was reading some material I picked up at the visitor center, I read that the Burnside Bridge area was the site of the bloodiest and final battle at Antietam. More men were killed or wounded on that day, September 17, 1862, than on any other day of the Civil War. More than 22,000 men were killed or wounded.
And we had imagined going there for a picnic.

https://web.archive.org/web/20051020030633/http://paranormal.about.com/library/blstory_august00.htm