Where I Live: The Listener Holiday Special

Welcome to the Yarrang about holiday special. The episode where we asked our patrons to send in little audio postcards showing us where you live, what it's like there, what it sounds like, and what people might be getting wrong about the places that you call home. I thought of doing this episode because I live in Portland, Oregon, my beautiful hometown, and I got to thinking about how in the news this year Portland was supposed to be the scary, scary city being taken over by non-binary anarchists, I guess. And first of all, I wish. And second of all, what that kept making me think about was how Portland is, to me, a city where, especially in the fall when a lot of people have more fruit than they can deal with, if you're out for a walk. And I would say most neighborhoods, there's boxes and bags of pairs and apples and whatever fruit people wanted, offer to their neighbors that are just free for the taking. And that has a lot more to do with what anarchism is about than any kind of violence that we see in our cities. And of course, the idea that Portland is a scary place is one that was used and weaponized this year as an excuse to send dangerous representatives of our federal government into it. So we wanted to make a little something to bring a little bit of balance to the way that we are seeing each other. To kind of let us feel part of a bigger community. And if there are places in the world or in the United States where we're going to spend most of our time, because that's where most of our voice memos ended up being from. If there are places where you've always wanted to visit or wish that you knew somebody, after listening to this episode, you're going to know somebody there. We loved getting to listen to every single submission that people sent in. And we wanted to just share the joy that we felt, both at getting to hear your stories and about your homes. And also just this feeling of being picked up and taken around the world and getting introduced to all these lovely human beings and hearing about the ways that you're finding to care for your communities, keep finding joy. If you're a Santa type of person, I certainly am. We want this to feel free like a ride in Santa's sleigh. And if not, you can choose whatever magical conveyance you prefer. The music you're going to hear in this episode is by Magpie Cinema Club. And Magpie Cinema Club is our producer Miranda Zickler and musician A.J. McKinley. Now let's climb on board, shall we? I'm from Denmark and I'm making this recording from my living room, where I'm sitting in me and my partners, old sofa, which we got from the Danish equivalent of eBay, I guess. And I'm here with my old cat, who has just been sleeping most of the day away, which I totally get because it's the middle of the day and is still so dark outside that I have turned on some lights. I'm sitting in our pretty old house, which we luckily are just renting. I mean, I don't think we would have the money for buying anything either way, but the house is from 1860. So it has all kinds of kinks and quirks. I'm sitting in our pretty messy living room, which is the two of us living together. So we have hobby things all over the place, yarn and sewing projects and miniature painting figurines. But it's just the two of us, so it's okay. And then our cat. And we have a crested gecko too. I think we have quite a lot of pets, even for Danish standards. And today I'm just enjoying staying inside, because it's so cold outside. Hello, you're wrong about friends. I've been a fan of the show for quite awhile now. One of the things I really love about it is how much joy that it finds in the mundane. And I feel like that kind of sort of relates to the feelings that I have about the places where I call home. So I'm from Greater Manchester in England, and that's how that's what they always say when people ask me. I say I'm from Greater Manchester, even though that's not really a town. It's like the whole county, which is made up of like a collection of small mining towns. But I find it hard to pick any one home town within this county. Each of them feel like home in a different way. As for example, Lee is a place where all the rugby players were leopard print. And it's the place where I learnt how to use a bow and arrow, which is now a huge part of my life. Wiggum is the place where everyone loves pies. And it's the place where everyone gets into fancy dress on Boxing Day. And I actually got my first ever paid writing job going out into the street and interviewing people about why they do this every year. Central Manchester is the sort of big central city. And it's the place where I live now. It has these pictures of bees all over the place from sort of the city's role in the industrial revolution, where a lot of the workers were called refer to as worker bees. And it's this weird combination of this really old working class industrial past with sort of these huge glass buildings now, now the sort of de-gentrification of it has started. But to me it's the place where I learnt to pour a pint. And it's the place where I really found my voice and actually learned how to talk to other human beings and not be afraid of them. Bolton is where my parents live. It's the place where my dogs run out to greet me and where my heart always feels just kind of warm. And it's also the birthplace of Filminiconc, which is pretty cool too. So that's Greater Manchester and each one of these places is home to me in a different way. And it's an absolute pleasure to live there. Hi, I'm Marlots. So I live in a community of about 20 people, also on a trailer park in Germany. We are very lucky to have a lot of space. And also a lot of dogs. So I try to encapsulate some sounds for you to better imagine how it is. And also to send some good feelings and I don't know everything you need. Maybe it's strength, maybe it's resilience, maybe it's something totally different. So yes, when it gets colder, you hear wood chopping throughout the day. So next to our home, there are train rails. And once every other week or so, and very old train passes by. And this time, sadly I didn't get the Chuchu, but I did get the train passing by. Also speaking of Chuchu, we have this wonderful habit of when someone has cooked for everyone. That someone sounds the trumpet. And tonight it sounded like this. So with this charming sound and also the fireworks that you might hear in the background. Yeah, I wish you all a good time. And again, I send you all the good things. Yeah, thank you for the podcast. And I'm really excited to listen to all the other postcards. Yeah, bye. Hi Sarah, hi everyone in the Uronga Art Community. I wanted to share with you what it's like standing on our balcony, which is in the city of Bonn, that was the capital of West Germany until 1990. And we actually do have some ring-knacked parakeets living here in Bonn and also in other cities along the river Rhein, like Cologne, in the 1960s I guess. They just started spreading. And I don't know if you know, but usually in Germany we have the usual birds like pigeons or a crow here and there. But yeah, parakeets, that's that special. And when we moved here into our new flat a year ago, I don't know, it just made the whole thing more special. And when I'm having a hard day, which given the situation in a lot of countries, but also in Germany, where everyone's moving to the far right, it feels like, I don't know, when I'm having a hard day for this or that reason, stepping onto the balcony and just watching them and be able to watch them and listen to these unusual habitants of the city, I don't know, just puts a smile on my face sometimes and I appreciate them very much. And I appreciate you for doing the podcast and everyone listening to it. I hope you're all okay. This is Fajard, it's the early morning call to prayer, happens just before the sun comes up. Because of Blanca's and a noisy city, so this is usually the only time I actually hear it. It's the rest of the day, it's delivery motorcycles all day. But yeah, you hear it from all directions and then way up high on the fifth floor. Hi Sarah, this is Caff and I'm leaving you a message from South Africa. It is a warm overcast drizzly day in the eastern Cape in a tiny little town called Hamburg on the coast, right down at the bottom of the African continent. You can hear the birds, you probably can't hear the rain because it's very light, but it is an absolutely beautiful day and I hope you can hear what everything sounds like. Contrary to what your president, I beg your pardon, not your president has been saying there is certainly no white genocide going on out here. I live in the farmlands and it's one of the most beautiful places I've ever lived in my life. So sending you love and end of the year wishes from South Africa. Hello world, I'm speaking to you from San Juan, Puerto Rico. My home, it is almost 11 pm, I'm stood outside in my garden and I want to bore you with too many details, but what's been said about Puerto Rico and the media recently. Tonight I just want to share with you some of the sounds from my garden, I hope you enjoy. If you're sharing sound, you're hearing by the way, those are frogs, that is Elco Quim and is an academic frog species from Puerto Rico. And when you grow up in Puerto Rico, as I did, this is your favorite sound in the entire world. I can never imagine that there will be someone who did not love this sound as much as we do. But come to find out, there are some people who have been moving to Puerto Rico and the few past years that don't find this sound pleasant at all. And they want to get rid of Elco Quim, but Elco Quim is in coin anyway and neither are we. Season's greetings from my home in South Florida. It is a beautiful afternoon along the ocean. I'm here listening to the waves and I appreciate the fact that there's a nice cool wind from the cold front that's coming through this evening. Florida is walking along the beach and watching the New Year and Time for Fish. It's looking for manatees swimming by just past where the waves are breaking. It is my morning coffee as I walk my dog, walk to the canal that lines my neighborhood and try to spot a shark for a ray, for a crocodile. Florida is the wonderful community of people that I have found. Florida is a place that can be really hard to love. Florida is a place that is constantly under threat and yet Florida is a place where there is so much abundance and joy. So much celebration, so much diversity. It is a place that makes me feel safe, makes me feel inspired. I really hope that everyone is able to find a place that feels like home and the way that this does for me. Hi Sarah and all of my other fellow listeners and travelers on this road of life. Greetings from Noel and Louisiana. I have lived all over the state throughout my 40 plus years. My father was a Methodist minister when I was a child so we kind of went where the shirt sent him. And that was as far north as the rolling red clay hills of Lasal Parish. Lots of tall timber grown up there and harvested and processed paper mills. And as far south as the swampy swamps of, well, as swampy swamp is slidile or the North Shore get I guess. But the place that I want to tell you about, the place I remember most and consider home the most are what's known as the Cajun Prairies. And that is in the Avoy of St. Andrew Parish area of the state. It is very agrarian. And I think of the season as harvest seasons right now. Most of the fields are full of or about to be emptied of sugar cane. And in November and December the roads are covered in little bits of sugar cane debris and no one wants to get behind a cane truck. And the rice fields are actually crawfish fields now. And you'll see big nets with birds sitting on top trying to steal a little crawfish or two. And those will be enjoyed in the spring when the rice is planted again. The uncles that live on the road by my mom and my grandmother grew corn and soybeans and wheat and the soybeans were planted in the spring and harvested in the early summer. And the corn was harvested in the late summer and the smell of fermented soybeans that remained. And then the smell and the sight of the husks of the corn that flew up in the late summer when you hope to rain to settle it. And just cycles of life with crops and harvest and the gardens that my grandparents kept. Those are home to me and the food of course the food. It's always the end of the season but my grandmother could make some rice and gravy. Hello you're wrong about this is Jimmie you're wrong about my name is Grace and I want to tell you about my favorite place on earth. And I've been many many places so I feel qualified to say this. I've lived here most of my life moved here when I was four so I really have very little memories of where I was before. And that's Houston, Texas. And I live about an hour's drive away from Houston, Texas. It's my hometown. It's where I grew up and it's where I came back to as an adult because nowhere else has a soul like Houston does. And I would say that this state for all its problems can be quite beautiful. Houston is one of the most diverse cities in the entire country. All my life I've haven't been able to go very far without here in Spanish or Chinese or Vietnamese. It's huge and it's sprawling and it's chaotic and it's messy. The buildings and the streets are built on top of each other and there are no zoning laws and we're way too invested in highways instead of public transit. Where everything is crowded and the traffic is endless but it is also beautiful and authentic and resilient. The people, the culture, the food. It's also bright so life-giving. One of my favorite things to do is to take my dog Penny from parks throughout the city for our evening walks because no matter where we go, somebody who's playing baseball or soccer, people are having picnics in the grass and playing fetch with their dogs. Couples are walking along the trails in the paths, kids are learning how to ride bikes and it's just so human and it's so beautiful. And in the spring the blue bonnets bloom for all of two weeks and everyone rushes to take pictures of them, pictures of themselves, pictures of their pets, pictures of their children. In every time that I have felt really ground down in the last year because of the state of things all it takes is one trip to a neighborhood park to remember that we're still here and there's still joy here and there's beauty here too. I think people get the wrong idea of Texas because the only things they hear are the things that the people in power here want them to know. But the truth is for the last three decades, a handful of really wealthy people who want the state to look like their own personal Christian nationalist views have funded a very effective campaign to make sure the only people who win elections think like them. So the people of Texas don't really have any representation at the top of our state and what you see is what those people want and not who we are. I love Texas, I love Houston and I always love this crazy place. I think we were fighting for. This is Kara from Nashville, Tennessee. I actually live south of Nashville in a place called Williamson County, which is the richest county in Tennessee. And of course, that means the most Republican, the most mega. But I persist nevertheless in one of the things I've been doing this year is I wear a lot of gays shit. I have a lot of gay t-shirts. I have rainbow sweaters. I have rainbow sneakers. I have tons of little rainbow bracelets. And whenever I'm out and about here in Williamson County running errands or whatever, I wear at least one gay item partially just because I'm very proud of the fact that I figured out that I'm bisexual or pansexual late in life. And also because I'm of a certain age and I really don't give a shit anymore. So I really would love for that old man staring at me and like being really mad at me for wearing a t-shirt. This is lesbian on it. In Walmart, I want him to make a fuss because I would love to talk back to him because I don't care anymore. It's the blessing of not having any folks. And I try my best to be allowed visibly queer person to give cover to those folks who are less comfortable being out and proud and are afraid right now because I know they have good reason to be afraid. So I'm just as loud and obnoxious in this gay as I possibly can be. And one of the best things is when I go out and about people all the time say I love your rainbow sweater. I love that shirt. That's such a great message because I really do believe there are more of us than there are of them. And most people just want everybody to be able to pursue what they want and be left alone and live their lives. So I hold on to that and I hold on to the birds. I come outside almost every morning and listen to the birds. I have a bird feeder. I have a bird tracker app. So I guess I'm a birder now. And let's listen to this morning. We have Robbins. We have Cardinals. We have Starlings and Sparrows. So let's listen to these little birds. Just be happy. I refill the bird feeder. My name is Hannah. I'm currently in Oakland, California, but I want to talk about my hometown of Memphis, Tennessee. There are so many things I love about Memphis getting chosen the AC and the summer and stepping outside, feeling the weight of the humid air, hearing cicadas, drinking honey, suckle nectar in the backyard of my sister. And last winter going to Stacked Recording Studio with my dad and listening to Otis Redding saying about sitting by the dock of the bay. I grew up in Memphis, Central College. Leading is my relationship with home was becoming complicated. I'm now a nurse in your detective health, but when I was a teenager, I'd only just started to notice the way adults treated my sexuality. I needed rigid control, yet also somehow not existing. I couldn't articulate that tension, then let alone my queerness. As so many teenage girls are, I was just angry all the time. I first got involved with abortion organizing on the state level, but the defeats were devastating and the anger felt so much more personal to me than to our opposition. I went to Atlanta for college, which felt impossibly cosmopolitan. For the first time, my interests were welcomed and my anger may be determined. I found queer family that made it harder to visit home where my parents were navigating a painful divorce. I looked to my graduation in 2020 with excitement for independence in Georgia and being more openly queer. But it didn't happen that way. I had to move back to Memphis with a day's notice. My plans changed. I break up a nanny and job graduation on Facebook live. The grief, I made the best of it by moving out of my dad's house into a studio in the Cuper Young neighborhood. I went on long walks in a city that I hadn't known as an adult, wondering if I'd ever feel the sense of belonging I'd lost. As travel became possible again, I visited a friend in San Francisco and went into a queer history museum in the Castro. I cried reading about the local activism that had happened there. Not only because it had happened, but the reverence with which it was being spoken about. But I down by resisting the conservative bent a minor-sing program I could barely imagine something like this in Memphis. I started working in birth and abortion, came out, moved back to Atlanta, then to Oakland. I returned to Memphis last summer and was driving past the science and history museum known locally as the Pink Palace. I managed to surrender to the city when the founder of Pickley Wiggly went bankrupt. When I saw a sign for a Pride Month exhibit, I stepped into a museum I'd last been to as a kid. I recognized names and places for my childhood in a new light. I set photos of a lesbian bookstore that had been just blocks from my studio until it closed in the 90s, a building I'd walked past dozens of times. To white conservatives, Memphis is nothing more than a place to project racist moral panics about crime onto. To many coastal liberals like in California here, it's backwards and unsafe space, a place to pity. But this is what I want to hold as home in Memphis that we have always been inventing and reinventing new worlds for taking care of each other. We just have to notice. I live in the highly desirable, rapidly gentrifying oasis of purple and a deeply red state, Charleston, South Carolina. We are a destination for problematic plantation weddings and roving troves of bachelor at parties. Everyone wants to move here and seemingly has since remote work became accessible post 2020. We have everything, hurricanes, flooding, so much flooding, traffic made worse by non-existent infrastructure, racist senators and corrupt politicians, amazing food, beaches, and Spanish moss covered live oak trees, Google strand feeding dolphins. Charleston is a drinking town with a historic problem. Mosquitoes were invented here. I love it. I moved to Charleston about 13 years ago from another series of southern towns, so I knew what I was getting into for the most part. But let's go back to the gentrification. The thing that people love most about my fair town, the charm, the small retailers, the local cuisine, the locals are being pushed out by big bad developers and the conda-nast adherents. Charleston is becoming less and less Charleston every day, and it's not because of the new people coming in, but because of the lack of incentives and programming in place to keep current businesses and residents to stay. Jordan Amaker from Low Country Local First says gentrification is a policy failure. Losing character is a failure of design, losing demographics is a failure of policy. Community growth is a garden we must tend. So come and visit us, come move here with me and my John's Island native husband. But shop local, shop small, and buy from local businesses. Not just this holiday, but all year. This is my audio postcard from my backyard in Charleston, South Carolina. I grew up here anxious and a closeted queer kid who felt so alone. I sought refuge online on my one direction tumblr, making friends only with my modules. I swore I was going to get out of this town as soon as I could and never look back. The appeal trust in how to tourists and forever locals was confusing to me when I was younger. The beauty here is abundant and everywhere in the wetlands and in the people it all just felt obvious and surface level. And I was completely bored by it. I had a couple pretty traumatic events happen in my late teens in early 20s. And I was extremely lost and I started acting out. So I blamed the city. I moved to New York City at 23 in this top new ideals that the South shielded me from. I came out and I realized I'm beautiful too. But I'm not a Charleston 10. In 2023, I had some mental health issues pop up and I knew I needed to be back in the low country. When I moved back, I made a big effort to be uncomfortable and search for connection with my newfound identity and from beliefs. I feel I found community and friendship that I never have before within the arts. All of my friends are so incredibly talented and make me feel driven to create and be better. I also reached out to my childhood best friend and we can do our friendship. Though we can be more different. She shows me to slow down and enjoy life. When I think about playing mermaids at Foley Beach or doing a puzzle, I think about her and her sons and the lasting impacts they've made on me. The jaded view I used to have of this city and the landscape is all gone now because of the friends who reintroduce me to its beauty. Now when I look at the wetlands, I don't look past them. I look at them with all like how my friend Esther showed me to. I think of my best friend, Aurora. I think of shaking us on a Friday night at Recovery Room Tavern with a PBR in hand. Peanut Butter Waffles and Black Coffee at Waffle House and Chain Spoging Secrets while dolphin watching at sunrise park. Things I used to think were boring, now are precious. I overheard a conversation once about some people moving away and then coming home. And when the girls head look around, we all end up back in Charleston. Those words used to feel like a death sentence, but now feel comforting. If you ever move here or you live here now and are struggling to make friends, it's a magical place full of important history, beautiful ecosystems and wildlife. And in hidden pockets are some of the most kindhearted and genuine people. You just have to be willing to search for them. Hi Sarah and you're wrong about listeners. My name is Arina and I'm calling you from a beautiful Richmond, Virginia. I wanted to talk about the thing that has kept me going not just in the last year, but for the last five plus years, which is my local mutual aid network. It's called Matt RVA mutual aid distribution Richmond. We in the first few weeks of the COVID pandemic got together a bunch of folks to distribute food to people who couldn't leave their homes. We crowdfunded. We got amazing produce donations from home gardeners and from local farms. We did that through 2021. And then in 2023, we opened a free grocery store called the Middlebridge Community Market in a neighborhood called North City. And we also have a store that is located on the other side, which lives under food apartheid. And since April of 2023. So going on almost three years. We have been providing groceries and hygiene supplies and mental supplies and COVID tests and baby supplies to about 200 families every week. And we are trying to buy the building that this store operates out of so we can permanently commit to this neighborhood. And making sure that people have the food that they need. Giving food to people for free is a political act just because snap is back doesn't mean that there are not millions of families not getting enough food, not getting good nutritious food, not getting treats. We also have treats because everyone deserves that. And we're going to keep doing this for as long as we possibly can. We operate in an amazing network of other mutual aid orders like our community fridges, Sylvia sisters that gives us mental products, little hands that gets us baby products. The Richmond Retro reproductive freedom project, which is an abortion fund. And we all operate together to try to make Richmond a better, more equitable place for everyone. My name is Elizabeth that I live in Washington DC. And this is not a postcard about the National Guard or the number of active police forces in the city, which is preposterous. Or the absolute skirt upon the earth that are Republican lawmakers from other states that come to our city to just talk shit about us and try to overrule local government. This is about club Bannaker, one of the best things about living in DC. Bannaker is the public pool in my neighborhood. And on the weekends in the summer, the DJ, who is really the head lifeguard plays bump in music. It's wall to wall people and it's an incredible experience. I love DC. And I knew it was home about two weeks after I got off the plane from the middle of the country. And I hope that everyone finds a home. The way that I did when I came here. My name is Jillian and I currently live in Washington DC. For me, it's especially insane to have to continually remind myself that none of this is normal because for someone with my privileges, the rate at which it became normal was a lot faster than I thought it would be. So I love DC. And I also just wanted to shout out to people that have made this place home. There are a lot of fantastic people here who I love. But my roommates, Karen and Eve, we've been through so much together. We've seen each other through that dates and sick cats. And of course, the continued downfall of our democracy as we know it. I love my pancakes on my first day of grad school and give me I be profan when I'm too lazy to buy my own. And at a point in our lives where we're seeing a lot of emphasis put on starting a family and finding romantic love. And all the other fun had her own normative stuff. I'm really, really proud of the platonic family and the home I've already built for myself with these two incredible women. And, you know, as I leave to start a new chapter of my life. And I'm a little bit worried about moving back to where I grew up. I'm really comforted because I know that no matter where I am as long as they're in this city, I'll find a part of home here. Hello, I am sitting here on the first really sleety rainy cold dark day of winter on my couch, cuddled up with world snuggliest French bulldog, making lots of snorren noises as I sip a really nice coffee. But I think what's remarkable about where I am is that I'm in a place that is truly safe and beautiful. But much like Portland, it's a place that many people want you to think is ugly and dangerous. And that is Washington, DC. Specifically, I live on Capitol Hill with the aforementioned bulldog. And it's been a really difficult several months for our city. We are having neighbors snatched by ice and secret police roaming our streets and national guardsmen on our streets. And it's challenging to live with the duality of it, but there are people living full lives with beautiful families and communities and neighborhoods that deserve the chance to have that without the federal intervention we've seen without the cruelty we've seen without the pain and hurt that we have seen inflicted on our city. But underneath it all, I think it's the beauty that helps us thrive and survive. And I certainly think that that's the case for me. For my bulldog as he begins to snore a little bit more. So thank you for this chance to share my coffee with you this morning and to share our city with you, which already belongs to all of you. I saw a TikTok yesterday where there was a man with City Hall in the background and he said to the camera that I am from the city, state and country, Philadelphia. And I laughed because that's how it feels here. There's not quite another place like this. You can say go birds to being anything you want. It depends on your inflection, I guess. You can say fuck around and find out because it's true. Fuck around and find out is so important, I think. I think that we can all let things be because when you fuck around, you're going to find out. I am a country transplant. I'm not actually from here. I'm from the middle of nowhere. When I first came to Philly, I felt a sense of that last puzzle piece clicking in. I came over a ridge on Route 3 coming towards Philadelphia early in the morning as the sun was rising, going directly into my eyes. And I saw the city skyline breaking up the rising sun and just something in me really realized that, oh no, this is where I'm supposed to be. Fast forward and we have a home, we have some cats. I have a husband that I met here. I have a baby that I birthed here. And I remember when I was pregnant being sad that my daughter wouldn't get the same upbringing as me. But then I remember it to myself as I thought about it for longer that I liked it, I didn't love it. And maybe she'll feel the same way about living here. Maybe she'll want to go back to the country that I'm from, the country side, I should say, that I'm from in Central Pennsylvania. But she might also love it. She might not have to look for that missing puzzle piece like I did. My name is Virginia and not sure if this counts, but I wanted to talk about a city that I don't currently live in, but I'm in the process of moving to just toward another apartment today. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, a city of brotherly love and semesters to loan. I just graduated from college this past May and during my senior year, I just wanted to figure out where I wanted to land. It's hard to define where you want to be until you're there and you just feel that connection. A lot like falling in love in a lot of ways, but I visited Philly for the first time this January on New Year's Day. And I just, I fell in love with it. I fell in love with the people, the history, all of the art. And when I went to one of the coffee shops, I just started a conversation with a stranger. And she told me that she loves Philadelphia and she moved back here after living in Montreal and Boston. Because the people just have this attitude of if there's something that you see about the city that you don't like, then come help. That just reminded me a lot about what you and Harmony, Coliangelo have discussed multiple times about loving a city, despite its flaws, and seeing what it could be and wanting to work towards that. And I'm just really so excited for this next step. It's really scary, like incredibly scary in a lot of ways. But I'm just really excited to get my hands dirty and learn more about the city and start contributing to it. I am from tire swings in tulip trees and to fall in walnuts in play pretend pasta. I am from Sandy Run Creek, both deadly rushing water and expressway to the park. I am from brick walkways leading to brick houses, built in part by my own two hands and in a hole by the two hands that built me. I am from cousins as siblings, siblings as role models in safety nets. I am from honoring those who have passed from your grandmother would have loved you and Casey watch over your sisters. From my mom's mom's recipes simplified and discounted and anglicized Italian slang. From Pink Floyd and Bon Jovi, WMMR and WMGK, cranked loud enough to hear over the jeeps bus to transmission and the turnpike wind rustling our hair. I am from nothing secret, nothing sacred, from dog hair on the couch and cement in the dryer, all else a guise of pristine. There is no state in the United States that people get more wrong about than New Jersey. I should know because I am from here, lived here all my life. You can do an entire web series on just one region of New Jersey and still have enough leftover for a side podcast. See the first mix conception is that New Jersey is just one state when it is in fact three. There is North Jersey heavily influenced by New York City that is full of both hill people and city people. There is South Jersey heavily influenced by Philadelphia which is full of pine barren people and beach people. And then there are central Jersey where I am from that both people from North Jersey and South Jersey agree doesn't exist. But we do in fact exist, that is something that people in New Jersey get wrong about New Jersey all the time. Central Jersey does in fact exist. And there are many such arguments that go on within New borders of this state that make no sense to anyone else. I don't blame people for leaving New Jersey. New Jersey is taxing emotionally, it is taxing physically and most importantly it is taxing financially. It is really hard to live and exist here but if you do, if you come from here there is nothing that can surprise you. And there is nothing that can take you now. And that is the one thing everyone gets wrong about New Jersey underestimating us. Greetings from the sweet rural sprawl of Jersey. That is the intersection of western New Jersey and eastern Pennsylvania, a blend of worn in 100 counties New Jersey and Lehigh, Northampton and Bucks County's Pennsylvania. Here is a place where you can have some of the weirdest streams in the country. It is mighty haunted in these woods and the spirit thug just might cross the astral thresholds into your subconscious to have a chat. Of course you can also enjoy yourself with the local teenagers drinking and smoking weed in the graveyard. This is simultaneously one of the most boring places to grow up and rich with abandoned buildings, places with much scope for the imagination and cryptids. You need a card to get anywhere and that card will be filled with grungy self-described goat girls that just swam in the raretown or Delaware rivers. Housing is unaffordable, good old boys drive trucks waving Confederate flags that blend a sacred and held dear by all the weird witchy queer punk kids and their cats who came here by accident of birth. It ain't much but it's home. Hello team at your wrong about. My name is Chris. I'm a tour guide in New York City and I am reporting to you live from Rockefeller Center, the weekend before Thanksgiving, a quiet before the storm because the population of our city is about to double over the next six weeks between Thanksgiving and New Years. This is looking to see if things are on track. We have people ice skating check. The rockets are never further away from 90 minutes from performing the parade with soldiers. We got a giant tree going up in the middle of Rockefeller Center. We've got the Christmas decorations going up over at sex with avenues. This thing seems like it is on time and on schedule for Santa Claus's arrival down 6th avenue here at a couple of days. But through the magic of audio storytelling, we're going to go up closer to where I actually live. Just as 100 feet above sea local tree, the next stop here, 70 feet above sea. And there are the closing doors please. And just like that, we are in Central Park by the pond bordering the north woods. And I'm heading deeper in to meet a friend who lives on the other side of the park for me. And I think that is what the holidays are like for so many New Yorkers. It is the glitz and the glam of New Yorker Christmas. And just doing our best to kind of sneak away and be with the ones we care with and find those private, warm, real, intimate moments. My name is Amy and I live in Western Massachusetts. I have four pair trees in my yard. So when you talked about people in Portland giving away fruit from their trees, it made me think of my pairs and how I share them with my family and my neighbors here in little Western Massachusetts. I'm very involved in my library. I'm very involved in my local church here. And we spend a lot of time giving things away to our neighbors. And for me, that's what's helped me stay hopeful. My children also live in my small house with me. My son is just graduating from college. And my daughter is seven. And we are all saying to each other, how can we help? How can we make this little corner of the world that we live in a more peaceful place? Hi, my name is Lucio. I live in high-end in Massachusetts on KitKot. And this is a piece I wrote a little while ago. Everyone wants to visit in the summer. It's all about the beaches. In July, the beach almost isn't even necessary. Just walking around feels like swimming. The water is 75% poison anyway. In summer, it's all a parking lot. The air cools with dissipation of red sweaty bodies. The ocean goes green and barren and the rocky beaches are bearable again. It's not just that they're empty. The sand is soft and damp and cool. The lifeguard stands are abandoned so they can't be seen. The sand is soft and damp and cool. The lifeguard stands are abandoned so they can't be seen. The sand is soft and damp and cool. The lifeguard stands are abandoned so they can't be seen. The fog settles in. Like the crush on the boy who sits too desks over an algebra. It wraps everyone in a comfortable haze. Of my long school, pick up lines and grey. You can almost see how it used to be a small fishing town before they all become lost lawns and tourist traps. On the highways, there are these signs pointing to the bridge in case of tsunami. It implies we'll have some sort of warning when it comes that I've never understood tsunamis to call ahead of time to make a reservation. My mother says that if there's ever a tsunami, she would just let it suck her up. There's always too much bridge traffic in the summer. I tell her she should move. I've heard it called the vortex. As in, you never get out. Maybe think you've gotten out. You've got past the bridge traffic anyway, but you'll be back. Back to the beaches you never go to. Back to the highways and the pavement. Back to the poisoned water. Our own oncology department. Tourists, tourists, tourists, or us trapped in paradise. A business flickers out. The building sits dusty. Maybe it will be a hotel someday or another bank. My dad thinks I should write newsletters for the museum that I should start a blog about whaling. That is going to sell the house who moves south. My mother tells me she will move in with me someday. That I should come home for the summer. That's her to help. That she wonders if she will miss the beach. I drive home from work past midnight. Stuck in traffic and traffic and traffic. This is the light where everyone races you to get across the intersection first. This is the road I would turn off when I finally learned how to drive so I could throw away the lunch I never ate. This is a long way home my dad would take if he needed to talk to me about saying hello to his girlfriend with incorrect inflection or reading my book on the sofa. The car drives by and revs its engine every hour on the hour marking the passage of morning afternoon night morning. Everyone from high school is here. We pretend not to see each other. I'm calling in from just outside of Halifax, North Scotia, Canada. I hope you can hear the wind. It's very grey. It will be grey here until probably mid-April. Grey skies, grey snow, grey mud, grey ice. But like a lot of things that exist in the grey area like me actually. I'm trying to learn how to love it. Hi, my name is Emily. I'm writing in from Tukaronto, also known as Toronto or Toronto if you're from here in Canada. Tukaronto is a Mohawk word which means where there are trees in the water. I bring that up because for me when I think about what makes Toronto Toronto, it's the waters. We are fed by three rivers that all join Lake Ontario at the south end of the city. And I'm sitting by the shores of Lake Ontario right now at the Therry Docks. It's late November, so it's cold. It's about two degrees and it's snowing a bit today. The water looks pretty uninviting unless you're a duck. But being by this lake through all four seasons is one of the things that I love the most about Toronto. In the depths of winter, the shallow parts of the lake sometimes freeze over so much that people can actually skate on them over to the islands that are a couple of kilometers off the shore. Granted, that's happening less and less now due to climate change. But it's still pretty cool to see when it does happen. I'm in this whole area that I'm in. The harbor front is quiet today, but whenever I'm here, I think about what it's like in the summer because there's an art center down here, tons of ice cream stalls. And of course, the fairies that bring people back and forth between the mainland and the islands. They're not very busy today, but on summer, Saturdays, they're bringing hundreds of people over to the Toronto islands. Toronto is one of the most diverse cities on earth. Over half of us who live here were born outside of Canada. So on the ferry, you always hear families chatting away in English and French and Tagalog and Arabic and Mharik and Cantonese, Portuguese, Hindi, all people with very different lives, but all just sharing this experience of covering the kids and sunscreen, packing a picnic and heading out of the downtown for a day at the beach. And it always moves me to be on that ferry because it really feels like it is for all of us. And Toronto has always seemed to me like a place where most people really love and value our diversity and welcome newcomers. But these days, I think there's a lot of fear and pressure and people looking around and seeing that things seem to be getting worse, not better, and they want to know why. And I'm scared that there are these narratives that originate here, but also elsewhere, which are slowly chipping away at that lovely consensus that this place is for all of us. So my hope for 2026 and beyond is simply that we never let them. Hi Sarah, like you, I live in a maligned place in America. I live in Springfield, Ohio, which gained some notoriety during the last presidential election cycle when Donald Trump said that our Haitian immigrants are eating the dogs. They're eating the cats that is not happening here, by the way, but Springfield is a town that suffered a lot in the recession, but there is a lot of hope here. I volunteer with a nonprofit that tutors people and reading and writing and basic literacy skills from that angle. I just get to see so many people who are doing so much good in the community and who want to help. And I also wanted to share one of my favorite moments of connection with our Haitian immigrants. I had been doing some Haitian Creole on Duolingo, and I was at Meyer one day and a Haitian woman carrying a big squash, and I was using the produce scales, asked me how to do that. And I showed her and she said, thank you. And I said, Fadcliffe, which is your welcome in Creole. And the way she lit up, it just made my day. And I just wish that we as a country could all do more to live for those moments. Because to me, that is the heart of what this country really is. I grew up in a town called Midland, Michigan, which is in its own way kind of a hallmark Christmas town. And what I mean by that is every year, there is a big Santa parade where Santa comes down from the North Pole across the Tridge, which is a bridge downtown that goes from nowhere to nowhere to nowhere. And arrives at the courthouse where they light up the baby Jesus in the manger on the courthouse lawn. But really what's most fascinating about my hometown is at a point in, I want to say the early 90s when I was maybe 11. And they built a Santa house that has now become kind of world famous. But more importantly, the Santa house actually has a Santa school and people come from all over the world to go to this Santa school. And so now as an adult, you know, they had little bits on the travel channel with my favorite librarian from childhood teaching storytelling to Santa's. I think really special, it's weird. And I didn't think it was weird growing up. I thought it was just like everybody has a manger at the courthouse and everybody has a Santa come down across their weird little foot bridge. I think it was a really magical time for me. And now Christmas is always magical because of this lovely Santa house that I grew up with. And I actually had a Santa house ornament that still lives on my Christmas tree, even though I've moved away to warmer climates. And that's my story about my home. Thank you for listening. Hey Sarah, I'm calling from Snowy Chicago. And something I love about this place is that conformity isn't as much of a social value here as it has been other places I've lived. I think it's because a lot of people moved here as adults and had to make all new friends. And so had to be more open than they would have otherwise. My fiance and I have become pretty close friends with a refugee family from South America. And they needed a safe and affordable place to live. And they are kind of out of options. So we decided to shop for houses that would be big enough for us to share. We found one and something that was so cool is that we were open about why we wanted this house and all the people that we're going to live here. And everyone in the process was enthusiastic to help us. The seller was excited, the real estate agent, the lender were calling me and talking to me about logistics, seeing if they could do it in their own lives. And my parents and neighbors helped and my co-workers check in every couple of months and say, again, I send them some money. How's their asylum case proceeding? So it's been really awesome to see how much warmth and respect there is. And when you give people opportunities to show up, they do. My name is Dina and I live in Chicago in the Edgewater neighborhood. It's Thanksgiving in about an hour. I'm going to ride my bike from Edgewater to my husband's brothers wife's brothers house in Humboldt Park. These are both pretty immigrant neighborhoods. And so both of these neighborhoods were hit really hard by the ice siege that has recently eased off but is not over. And that has been really horrible. But one thing that has been great about it is seeing the community response that popped up to deal with this issue. Just about everyone I know is on some sort of signal thread about doing bike patrols in their neighborhood or helping out, you know, making sure kids get home safe from school. And I might send you another voice memo from my ride so that you can get some of the light sound tear wire. I don't know what the right word for that is. If you listen really closely right now, you can hear the Metro going by maybe. Thanks for asking this question. I really love where I live. I think most Chicagoans do and the things about that city that make it into the popular consciousness are often, you know, really distorted for reasons that suck. Okay, here's the sound of me riding down Kenzie Avenue with a paneer full of local beer. And my dear old Wisconsin scampage favorite holiday appetizer, which is Fritos and X-Hellad. It's 306. It's already getting dark and it's showing just a little bit. Hello, my name is Bianca Alva. I am a journalist and content creator who makes a lot of videos about Chicago where I live. I live a city that's recently been under a lot of government scrutiny. And I wanted to talk about the holiday train and bus, which is one of the favorite things that happens in Chicago this time of year. And I want you to imagine that you're working in an office downtown and you've gotten a very exhausting commute home. And you go into the elevated train station and you're waiting for your train home. And all of a sudden it pulls up covered in candy canes and Christmas lights. There's an actual Santa sleigh between the train cars. And then you get in and there's attendance dressed like elves who will hand you candy. And Jose Feliciano's Felicinavidad is playing on the speaker system. The train seats are upholstered in a snowman pattern. And instead of the usual print advertisements on the walls of the train, there's advertisements for fake businesses in the North Pole. And everything is just like cheery and bright and ridiculous. It is so good. They will paint the bus to look like Rudolph the Red Nose Rainier. It's unhinged. I don't even like Christmas. And I'm obsessed with it. And I always tell people take the Santa train or the holiday bus. And it'll just completely turn your day around and make you feel like a kid again. That's my testimony about what it's actually like to live in Chicago and how truly magical it can be to be here even in the darkest time of year. Hello, you're on about Makers and listeners. I am calling from Duluth, Minnesota, which is a northern Minnesota. It's right where Lake Superior meets the St. Louis River. And I am calling to spread some love about the winter. I have this theory that there's something about it being so cold here that enables care and connection. And I think it has something to do with the fact that if it's really cold out and you pass somebody whose car has given out, you gotta stop because if you don't, that person can be toast in like 10 minutes. I'd be curious to hear if people think that that's an investor thing or a cold climate thing or a Minnesota thing. But yeah, that's Duluth. It's a weird place and it's a complicated place, but it's definitely beautiful. And that beauty cannot be separated from the winter. Hi, my name is Jack. I'm originally from Omaha, Nebraska. And when I went to college when I moved out of Omaha, I found it very strange because I love Omaha. And I've always been very proud of Omaha. And it was a little shocking to me when people, when I would tell them, I'm from Omaha, does not resonate the same with people who don't come from Omaha. You know, I would get responses, oh, it's a small little town into Braskeites. I don't know where that is. I've always been proud of Omaha and I don't think it gets the credit it deserves. But when I was in college, I for a random class, I wrote this little poem and so I wanted to share that. I know what's something like this. I'm from a place called Omaha, 500,000 people small. It's not well known, but even so, it will always be my home. That's all. My name is Morgan. I live in Lincoln, Nebraska. And I lived in Nebraska almost my entire life. My parents are conventional farmers of corn and soybeans. And I grew up thinking that Nebraska was a pretty boring place to be. I thought that stories happened elsewhere. I in college worked at an agricultural institute and I decided that I wanted to learn how everything worked around here. And I ended up falling in love with Nebraska. I ended up falling in love with studying a landscape and understanding how people's lives, their lifestyles, the way they look, the way they dress, the way they talk, is changed by their landscape. They live where it's hilly, do they ranch, do they farm? Does it rain a lot? Does it snow a lot? And Nebraska is a beautiful place to study that because we have, you know, average of like 10 inches of rainfall in the western part of the state. And by the eastern part of the state, it's upwards of 30 inches, sometimes up to 40. So there's more difference in rainfall between western Nebraska to eastern Nebraska than there is all the way from Omaha to the coast. So Nebraska is a beautiful place to study how people fit into their landscapes and their landscapes shape them. It's not flat here as people would maybe assume from driving on the interstate, but Nebraska is home to the sand hills, which is the largest stabilized sand dunes in the world possibly. I think definitely the western hemisphere and we also have more river miles than any other state. So I love to tell people that and there's a lot of people out here that are trying to make our city a wonderful place for everybody to live and I love living here. Hi, I'm Chelsea. I'm in the suburbs of Colorado, even though I'm in a pretty purple part of the country. I feel safe and a mutual respect amongst myself and my neighbors, which is a very nice place to be in. I also just feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude, hope, and honestly, just I can exhale every time I listen to this podcast and just know that there's people across the country who think and feel the same way as me. So this prompt brought me a lot of joy. Happy to share a little nugget of where I'm from and what it's like here and excited to hear about where others are from and what brings up joy. Hi, you're wrong about I am calling in from Oakland, California. I'm an East Coast transplant. Oakland's always been in the news, always getting a bad reputation. My husband and my jog and I have lived here for five and a half years. We moved in April 2020 from DC and we've just fallen in love with it. It's got a lot of really tough, resilient, brilliant, beautiful people and I really love this neighborhood and this town. It's been a really, really fun place to live, but also in thinking about what of my home that I wanted to share. I think about my family and I think about that that's primarily my husband and my dog and I was just thinking about last night I couldn't sleep and I went out my dog out of her crate. She's nine going on three still got that puppy soul and I was sandwiched between them and I had been feeling really anxious and just awake and frustrated and I asked my husband to spin me and I speed my dog and I was just in the middle between two great sizes of bread and I was listening to both of them breathe as I fell asleep and that was just a really special moment of feeling really good home and that's what has brought me the most comfort this year. Hi Sarah and you're wrong about listeners. My name is Brianna Bowman and I am leaving this voice memo from my little cottage that I went in Newport, Oregon. I've dreamed of living here since I was a kid. I would visit here when I was young. I visited here when Keko was at the Oregon Coast Aquarium and then I volunteered at the Oregon Coast Aquarium and lived with my grandparents who had lived in D. Po Bay and I just returned here as a visitor over the years and always knew that this was somewhere that I wanted to end up and last year I made the big decision to uproot my life in Alaska and made the most important decision. I was like the very long drive from Anchorage to Newport and I still feel that this is exactly where I want to be, it's where I need to be. And for the first time since I left home when I was 18 I feel truly like I don't have any intention of moving anywhere else. I still want to see the world, I still want to see new places but this truly is home to me. Hi Sarah Miranda, my name is Avril, I live in Vancouver, Canada and I live on a busy street next to kind of a funky cafe and on the side of the cafe there's this little red door that is a shockingly short door that looks like it should like lead to some, I don't know, underground nightclub. I love a magical weird place where elves live and before I lived here I always wondered what is that door for, what is behind it. And now that I do live here I go through it every week to do my laundry in the cellar of this cafe that smells like most poop and garbage and it's really not a pleasant place to spend much time. But every time I go down there I love seeing the wonder in people's faces that are on the street just like watching me disappear into this odd red door. And I just like being a part of like the mystery of like my neighborhood, you know I used to be one of those people wondering on the street and now I'm on the inside and it's not as fun as it was before. But I mean I'm happy to be on either side of the story. I live in a smaller city just south of the Canadian border in Washington state and the summer our neighbor down the street started a stand in her front yard where she's selling her homemade sourdough bread, muffins and cookies, beautiful loaves. And everyone started kind of congregating around her house. She has a couple of young kids toddler age and all the kids are hanging out there and we have a now 10 month old puppy, pit bull puppy and she's very social. And so when I wasn't working or freaking out about the world I was walking my puppy and she knows all the kids in the neighborhood and all the houses where she can get pets, meet new people and also you know just enjoying my neighbors lovely bread and the community that she's built by having the bread stand there and it's been nice. But the exception of what's happening everywhere else it's been a lovely summer and I'm sad that I won't get to see my neighbors as much now that it's like pitch black all the time and really cold out but looking forward to spring and having that come back again. The sun has just broken through the clouds here in Alberta in the town where I was born and raised that I left for a time but I am still very proud to call home and I have this sound to add to the sounds of places for you. That was cheering of thousands of people who showed up to a rally in support of trans folks and the right to access health care and have bodily autonomy. Alberta has a reputation across Canada as being super conservative but it is also home to queer people like anywhere in the world and that cheering is heartening because that's the sound of community and love and defiance in the face of oppression. So to anybody who believes that they might be the only one in their town wherever they are you are not the only one people love you people want you to live your best life and if you need that like kind of reassurance I hope that you can hear that cheering and know that that is thousands of people who love trans people and the trans community. Hi Sarah and crew my name is Brandon I am sitting on my porch with my favorite boxer dog page and recording this in Sikka Alaska. I don't think you really capture living in Sikka without capturing the rain. It's a place that I've called home for a lot of years originally brought up here through the Coast Guard. I was struck by how easy it is to get everywhere. It's a very walk friendly town which was great because I didn't have a license when I first deployed here in 1998. So I got a good raincoat and learned how to live in a place that might be the opposite of San Diego County where I grew up. I am in love with this community this morning I'll be heading off to the local dance theater which is about a three minute walk from me to help load out for the Nutcracker which is put on every other year. It will be I believe my fourth time on stage in a year as I've kind of caught a bug both through seeing some heroes of mine in the local community recite paragraphs to me through a creepy Frankenstein play. And by the children putting on a newsies performance and finally getting to see that play on stage. I really enjoy that the town really just rallies around the arts and the artists and that I've been able to find a little bit of that even though I'm surrounded by a wife and daughters that produce the most visually appealing art I can imagine. I'm more of a stick figure guy and so this has been great for me to be able to contribute to the folks around me and to make hopefully other people want to stay in this lovely town. G'day Sarah my name is Victor I live in Australia in the state of Victoria in the city of Melbourne. We've got a population of about five million and we're a textbook example of Urban sprawl. Pardon the magpies. Rippling out from our CBD we've got trendy inner suburbs, agentifying middle suburbia and then sprawling outer suburbs. We have a lot of heritage buildings one of the most iconic of which is Flinders Street Station. It's been operational since the 1850s but the current facade was built in 1909. It's a great big yellow building with great big green domes on top and a big wide archway at the entrance with clock faces. The clock faces are controlled by computers now but they used to be adjusted with a very long pole. In the inner suburbs we've got beautiful workers cottages which are quite divisive now. There are now two story homes that were built in the late 1800s some in the 1900s that are now primary real estate for the residential apartments we desperately need to keep up with our growing population. I like the middle to outer suburbs best because of the tall trees and vibrant bird life which I'll describe now. You'll often see rainbow lorakites and galars in pairs because they mate for life. The lorakites have a blue head yellow chest green wings and a red beak. Galars have a striking pink torso. Magpies which you heard at the beginning of this recording have a characteristic wobble and are pleasant to wake up to in the morning. My personal favourite is the Kara Wong song which I would describe as a two tone twitter punctuated with high notes that rise and fall rapidly. The rest of Australia calls Melbourne coffee snobbs and we deserve that. Still I take a lot of comfort in a smooth aromantic flat white. The media is giving a lot of air to knife crime at the moment. It's a pity because they're obviously puffing it up and it encourages people to retreat from public spaces at a time when we need community. You can find community if you look for it. Just recently I attended a grassroots gender inclusive weightlifting competition called the Trans Takeover. This was its fourth annual event and I think it might be the only one of its kind in the world. On that happy note, Merry Christmas and happy holidays from sunny Australia to you Sarah and the You're Rung About Collective. My name is Amanda and I am just letting you know I'm in Australia. We had a federal election this year and one of our local politicians was not looking like he was going to get his seat. So he did like a PR thing and went and changed his name to Austin Trump and he was calling himself Aussie Trump. And I assume that that was in an attempt to try and get votes from people who might have supported views like Trump's policies in the US. And I'm very happy to say that Aussie Trump did not get any or many votes whatsoever during our elections. So even though I think that Australia has a long way to go when it comes to racism and inclusivity of other minorities. And in particular I think disabilities and we are an incredibly ableist society particularly where it comes to invisible disabilities. And we just have very little in place to support people with disabilities in our communities and really very little to support minorities in general. But I was very pleased to see that maybe one area where we're not completely terrible is that we didn't have a whole bunch of people voting for Aussie Trump. Hi Sarah, this is Brynn. I'm talking to you from Berrara in Australia. And I know I don't sound Australian and that's because originally I'm not. I moved here eight and a half years ago from America with my Australian husband and our kids. And I am talking to you from Berrara but it's also our green guy and Darug people's nation are indigenous peoples. And what you hear around me is our sound of Christmas which is the summer cicadas because of course here Christmas is happening in the summertime. So you'll hear a lot of the clicking sounds of the cicadas, a lot of the buzzing sounds because they're all around in our trees. And a fun thing that you need to remember is don't walk under the trees in summer because the cicadas will pee on you. Bye from Berrara. Kira, I'm Heather. I'm at the 9-Eye Market in Lower Hutt, New Zealand. We're being my partner. I usually go every weekend. There's about half a dozen stalls here. And live music which is basically just a guy singing karaoke. I'm just going to stroll through and see what kind of sounds will be here. You have to speak. Just telling everything. It's spring and we're going to work in the same city. Thank you. Oh, hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. Hello. What are these ones? They look great. Mmm. Maybe back. Make your... Come on. These are gorgeous. Haircups? They look beautiful. They look good. You want some pressure? How are they going? Yeah. Oh, I'm not up. I had a passenger seat. My parents got the cash. It's one round, baby. Oh, yeah, thanks. You too. I love money. You too, honey. Hi. My name is Hannah. I usually live in Altera New Zealand at the moment. I'm from Latra, where the Tasmania. I've come home for my yearly return to help run a folk punk festival for our night fear. We're an entirely volunteer run festival. We just had it on the weekend, so my voice is struggling. But yeah, I've just been sitting at my friend's house on her porch with a cup of tea. Just reflecting on the weekend and how proud I am of everyone who puts in their time and effort and sometimes money to make community events happen. And then the other people who show up for those events is just really special. And I've got to keep doing it. It's community is the most important thing. I'd now it's chillier than what I'm used to, but it feels good and light. And yeah, I'm very happy here. Hi Sarah. My name's Joe. I'm from Australia. I hope you can hear the sound of the wind and the birds and some kind of insect trilling over there. I'm sitting in my backyard, which is a little oasis I have behind a very big tree. It's a very busy street, which I live on. Sitting here after a really long day of work. But it's just really lovely in this garden that I've been working on for 12 months. It's finally flowering. The wind is being forgot and never brought to mind. Should all the wind is being forgotten and forgotten? Fallen time, right here, fallen time. We'll take a cup of kindness here, all by our side. Almost heaven, west Virginia, Blue Ridge mountains, Shenandoah River. Life is old there, older than the trees, younger than the mountain, going like a breeze, country roads. Take me home to the place I belong, west Virginia, mountain along. Take me home, country roads. Should all the acquaintance be ever gone and an endless night is strung. Should all the acquaintance be ever gone and an endless night is strung. I'm standing beside you in my cold eyes. Take me home, my dear, so my eyes are all in. We'll take a cup of kindness here, all by our side. Hi everyone, this is Sarah Marshall in Portland, Oregon. And I am so happy to have gotten to make this episode with you. Once again, the music in this episode is by Magpie Cinema Club. Magpie Cinema Club is this show's producer Miranda Zickler, a musician, AJ McKinley. I want to thank every single person who sent in a voice memo, who emailed us, who thought about it, but then time got away, it all counts. And we have been so incredibly lucky to share this year with you and to keep learning to reach out and find and build community and learn new ways to take care of each other. If you want to support the show, if you want to take part in more episodes like this, you can join our Patreon or subscribe at ApplePlus subscriptions. And we have a good time over there. We also have an audiobook of a Christmas Carol that I did a couple years ago. You can hear that on Patreon or ApplePlus as well. We are going to take a little break at the start of next year. As some of you may know, and as you saw on our feed a little while ago, I did a CBC show about what else, the Satanic Panic. It's called the W, you know, it's out now. There's a lot of work we're having a little rest, and we will be back with new episodes of You're Wrong about on January 27th. And we can't wait to see you. Take good care of each other. Anyway, thanks a lot. Thanks for your putt cast. I love it. Okay, thank you. Bye. Um, bye Sarah. Thank you. Thanks. That's me. Thank you. I hope you come and see us sometime. Bye.