Pami baby of leak

If you have poor ventilation in your attic, which is causing a small amount of mildew in there, and there’s a small chimney leak that’s been caul and resealed.
Would you replace the roof? It’s about 15 years old. Not sure which shingles they were but it does look worn down. Would you redo the roof or wait a little?

I'm moving to QLD in August and I want to have a baby ASAP (getting a bit old to wait longer). What are the entitlements of women for basic mat pay? I read the queensland parental pay directive and it seems like 14 weeks full pay is the best we are offered! Any tips and or tricks from other women would be great.

First of all - Good morning, everyone. And I hope that everyone is hanging in there and doing well. If not, hugs to you! And if yes, then hugs to you anyway. <3
This is my second post, in 20 hours, I hope that's alright? I just wanted to update things a bit about my first post here, concerning Rob's situation. Please forgive me - as I'm still learning Reddit etiquette and whatnot.
So... In my first post - I explained my brother's Rob situation and how my sister and I were going to take him to the VA hospital that morning. He has a brain tumor, diabetes from the said tumor, and a badly infected leg that is likely to be amputated in the near future. His health is steadily declining and it's pretty much an "end of life" kind of situation, with a little hope that perhaps the right kind of doctors can save him in Minnesota. It's a huge hope, however, with no guarantees.
Anyway - my sister, Ace, called the local VA, and got him all set up with their systems, and the registered nurse there advised that Rob come in right away to the VA's Emergency Room, so that doctors can work on his leg. I know how serious the leg is, because I've changed his bandages, and...
I don't know how to tag posts here yet, so - CONTENT WARNING: Gruesome medical details! (Just skip this paragraph, if you have a weak stomach or not wishing to carry such a mental image in your head today). So yeah... there's very little left of Rob's lower leg, above the ankle and just under the knee. He's lost so much muscle mass (in both legs, but especially where the infection is). There's a five-inch open wound there down to the pink and white fleshy layer, that bleeds heavily and leaks fluid. On the same leg, there are three smaller open wounds, with the third one opening up just under his knee recently. When I peel off the bandages, I peel away some of his skin and wound too - because it's very fragile and is just sloughing off at this point.
His situation is dire and extremely painful for him. So yes, Ace and I set up his trip to the VA yesterday - the nurse there gave my sister a number to call for a transportation service as well. We were both ready to go and all geared up, but then... Rob decides that he doesn't want to go. He hates hospitals. Doesn't want to stay in yet another hospital for long periods, like what happened to him at the not-so-nice hospital in Maryland.
I mean, I get it. I've had four surgeries in the past eight years and a childhood of being sick - in and out of hospitals. I hate hospitals too! But... his leg is literally falling apart and he's literally DYING. And I'm literally frustrated as all get out! LOL! XD
So, I sat down directly across from Rob, met him eye-to-eye, and calmly said to him, "You have two choices, dude. You can go to the VA and have them check out your leg, to get you set up with a home nurse, and a new brain surgeon too. Or you can stay here and die on our sofa. And we don't mind which choice you make, it's okay, but ultimately it's up to you."
He thought about it for a moment, then decided, "I'll go tomorrow. I just need to gather myself first." Okay, fair enough, so... we're going to try to get him to the VA hospital sometime today.
Hopefully.
Unless he changes his mind.
And I'm grinding my teeth right now. LOL.
I really hope that he goes today, as I don't really want to change his bandages again. I'm pretty tough, but it's an ordeal to have your gloves covered in human blood and bodily fluids, and smelling the unmistakable stench of a serious infection. To hear the painful cries of your childhood hero and to feel like a right bastard for being the reason why they're crying out in pain, while changing said bandages.
It's A LOT. And I just hope that he goes into the VA today, to give both myself and Ace a break. A short breather is all. And more importantly, so that he can get REAL medical care and not just his sisters playing doctor and nurse. As I said before... stubbornness is a family trait, unfortunately.
Anyway, I am now sleeping at 1 or 3 in the afternoon, so that I can be awake by 9 or 10 at night, so Ace can sleep for work. And I checked in on Rob at 10 pm, just as Ace went to sleep for the night in her room. Rob was excited that I was there and that he wouldn't have to spend a couple of hours alone tonight. I explained that I am sleeping earlier so I can be awake with him in the night.
He asked me to watch a movie with him... a god-awful Vin Diesel movie. I forget the name of it, but it had witches and whatnot in it. He LOVES this movie and I'm dying of complete boredom before I began replaying scenes of a far better action movie in my head - John Wick. =p
But, finally, Rob has fallen asleep (for the next 40 or so minutes) and I'm back at my laptop in my room, having survived a Vin Diesel movie all the same.
So, that's my update for now. Will update this post, if he does or doesn't go into the VA today.

The kid has a father but no mother. The father is constantly working so he only ever sees his baby sitter. The kid makes a lot of gadgets including a complicated alarm clock. The kid realizes he has a special ability and gets taken to an island with no contact to his family or friends. The island has other kids with abilities like a really smart girl, a really strong boy and a few more i can’t remember. The strong boy made a basketball hoop from across the island. The owner of the island trains the kids to use their powers to go on missions and defend themselves against the government thats trying to capture them. I read this book probably in 20013-2015 in middle school.

This may be a stupid question, but I haven’t been able to find anything about this elsewhere, sorry. I’ve been using FR’s Custom Skins and Accents PSD files for figuring out and sketching all sorts of designs for years. I’ve never actually uploaded a skin, or tried to, I just enjoy using the templates as a medium to imagine how a dragon might look with even more individualized details. I was wondering - do any PSDs like these exist for the baby dragons as well, or only the adult dragon forms? I imagine skins cannot be given to babies and since that’s the whole point of the PSDs being on the site in the first place, I’m guessing not, but I still wanted to ask. I find it rather fun to doodle designs using the templates and wanted to know if any options were available to do so with baby dragons, too. Sorry again if this has been answered somewhere and/or is a stupid question. (Click here for a redirect to the page of PSDs in question, in case someone doesn’t know about it.)

So I posted here like a week ago saying no one has wanted to take the dog we have been trying to rehome for a few months instead of editing that post with an update I thought I’ll make a new one.
So a couple nights ago I received a message from someone who was interested in taking the dog, he is an older man who lives alone but is very active and will be taking the dog fruit picking and boating with him. His always had big boxer and staffy dog types and he knows how to work and train them. We met him with the dog and it was perfect he had his granddaughter there who is 11 to make sure he will obey commands from her and it all went well. So the dog goes to his new home this weekend!
My nightmare is finally coming to an end, the dog will be his only companion which is what the dog needs because of its jealous personality, it won’t be around any small children or babies and will get plenty of exercise.
I’m so ready to feel free in my own home, the house needs a damn good scrub it will be so nice to put my baby on the floor to explore without worrying he will choke on dog hair lol To have clothes clean from the wash and not have to pick off hair of the clothes I just washed, to not have the barking, whining, panting and licking noises constantly. I can’t wait to feel safe again.

So I know theres probably no answer to this yet but does anyone else really hope that you can attack cities from the sea? One of my favorite things in AOW3 was the baby krakens becoming big krakens and just ruling the seas but then it didnt actually matter cause you could never take anything with them.

Memory transcription subject: Andes Savulescu-Ruiz, UN universal translator technician.
Date [standardized human time]: December 2, 2136
There were a vanishingly small amount of translator technicians among the human population.
Partially, that was because they are really well-designed, with a thousand different redundancies and failsafes, all enabled through some astonishingly nifty nanite programming. This meant that they very rarely "broke". I have no idea how they managed such adaptive architecture with AI so rudimentary it may as well have come out of the 20th century. But they did. Probably at least a dozen species working together. Translators: biotech at its finest.
Partially, that was because humans had only known these things existed for six months. So, not a lot of engineering/linguistic double-majors with a background in neuroscience to pick from for the job.
Partially it was because the job of "translator technician" involved being the world's most overqualified traumatic brain injury rehab assistant. I was originally just a researcher, until we needed to interrogate injured arxur. Those big psycho-crocs can take an impressive amount of punishment and remail coherent. Since the talking teddy bears could barely survive 5 minutes alone with them, I got dragged out of xenoneurolinguistic heaven, and into (ugh) the field.
"These creatures are clearly beneath you, human," Shathel said one evening, and there were no error messages! Massive progress from the previous two days. "Why do you indulge them so?"
The Zurulian doctor I was working with glared at him from behind a reinforced window in the other room.
"They're cute," I said, "Please count backwards from ten."
"Ten. Ninety. Eighty. Seventy..."
"Fuck. Give me a moment. Count up to ten?"
"One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten."
"Alright. I think it's good now. Backwards, again?"
"Ten. Nine. Eight..."
Riveting, right? Totally worth a decade of university.
Shathel was fun. Top notch PoW, especially among the Arxur. He wasn't a cuddly teddy bear, but he had his charms.
"I still do not understand the comprehensive nature of this treatment," he said, "you should have left me to die and interrogated my second."
"I mean, we can interrogate your second without leaving you to die," I said, "in fact, we have. But you know more, presumably. Especially since that injury didn't damage your weird tentacley lizard hippocampus."
"I have recovered some vision on my left eye."
"Good. It means the stem cells from your tail are working."
"Are you quite certain you're not a doctor?"
"I dropped out of med school when I realized rotations would drive me insane. The American dollar is not worth that much. Transferred to McGill for research instead."
"...Circles?"
"Close. Tell me about how shifts are organized in an Arxur ship."
He looked at me with suspicion.
"Or not, tell me how fake shifts are organized. I'm not military intel, I just need to know you're talking about time in a periodic fashion while I check this."
He sighed and began explaining. It was relatively trivial to modify the translators to spit out conversions (from "moon cycles" to 2.7 Earth months and so on, for example). It blows my mind that it's not standard procedure and the average human has to personally translate "paw" and "claw" into hours but then again, I was one of ten human translator techs, so that answers that enigma.
"Alright, let's try this again. I dropped out of medical school when I realized rotations would drive me insane."
He looked taken a back and stared at me.
"...You truly are persistence predators."
"Guess so. Not me though, I'm done with the grind."
"Is that why you are here?"
"...Kinda yeah."
He was sent off to be interrogated by Meier or whoever, and I was given a few weeks to catch up grad work. I had to stay on the space station, but they mostly left me alone.
Two days after I finished my thesis and sent it to my supervisor, my university was blown up.
In between the radiation, the battle wounds, and the accidents caused by the chaos, I was swamped for weeks. The number of translator techs quadrupled thanks to the Zurulians and still I was swamped. Not to mention sick of the fucking federation and their genocidal bullshit. The loss was incalculable. Montreal was one of the most delightful cities in the world. The history that was lost. The art. The science. The people.
It was best not to think about it.
I was one of the lucky ones. Regina came out pretty unscathed, so most of my friends and family back home were fine. But the university was gone, and the octogenarians that tended to staff it had collectively decided they were too old for alien war shenanigans and retired.
I never thought I'd have an easier time hanging out with baby-eating lizard Nazis than stuffed animals with anxiety, but there I was: Having lunch with the Arxur helpers, on the grounds that the Zurulians and the Venlil were fucking exhausting to talk to.
"You humans are simply delightful," said Asleth. "Such weak frames, and yet you do more with them than many a mighty Arxur."
"We try," I said with a smile, "what do you think of the steak, eh?"
"It's quite good," she said, "very bloody. You lied to us, it seems. I have seen humans eat it like this also."
"Some humans will eat meat raw."
"Oh good. Those canines are not just for show, then."
We exchanged contact information, and would have calls once in a while, when they wanted to complain or ask about human customs. It was good.
When I found out about the cattle exchange, I knew. I knew I had the most experience with traumatic brain injuries' effects on the translators, I knew I had "no excuse" with my whole department turned to ash. I knew I turned things in on time, and was reliable, and they liked that.
I knew it was my name on that fucking roster. I knew when the email came from one of those stupid @ interstellar-relations.un.gov accounts.

Dear Andes Savulescu-Ruiz,
We would like to inform you that you have been selected to spearhead the human translator implantation and evaluation initiative in the currently-under-construction facility for rescued Venlil. Attached are the details of the position, as well as the relocation requirements.
Should you choose to accept this opportunity, your compensation...

Sometimes, I love the UN. But holy shit, sometimes I hate the UN.
So over the next week(!!!) I had to pack up all of my shit to go live in an alien planet. The good news was that gravity is meaningfully bigger there, which is to say, it made it easy to lose weight and get ripped. The bad news is the everything else.
No day-night cycle. No "night life". No quiet hours of the night. No early morning walks to watch the sun rise. I didn't even particularly liked those things until I couldn't have them anymore. The same endless sun hanging in the sky at the same height kept freaking me out. It was like time had stopped, and nobody noticed, so life just kept going.
Creepy alien gym planet bullshit.
I went to the university. The linguistics department at the university was much better equipped to handle the interdisciplinary nature of translator technical training (obviously) so I did a 3-week intensive (if you can call it that, the study blocks were 3 hours tops) with a whole cohort to top up my skills.
On the third week, my shifts started. They were mostly setting up the lab while the housing construction finished up. But it meant I had to travel home-to-work, work-to-uni, and uni-to-home every day/wake-sleep cycle. The extra 30% of public transit travel time was starting to grate on my nerves. Twitchy little venlil bastards. I'm sure the resting fuck-you face didn't help, but the population made it clear Tarva wasn't all that beloved around these parts. And the "oh no, predator" bullshit stopped being pitiful and started being annoying very very fast.
Eventually, the last week ended, and I was just heading to work, which was awesome because once the path was done, I could bike there directly through the back, and didn't need to take transit.
The refugees trickled in from the hospital at first, and then it became a steady stream. This particular facility was meant primarily for those raised in captivity, on the grounds that they were the ones who needed translators installed. I did my best to stay in my office, so I wouldn't have to wear the stupid headgear. If they didn't want a human interacting with these people why did they hire me?
The Yotul was cool. His name was Larzo He was vicious at chess. The more time I spent with him, the more it seemed like the Yotul were the only sane people in the galaxy.
"Ha! Finally!" he shouted when he finished his mate. I'd been on the defensive most of the lunch hour. My poor queen had spent half the game on the run from his bishop and knight.
"Yeah, yeah, you got me. Little demon quoka," I muttered.
"I have conquered the great fearsome predator! Perhaps you need more muscles here," he said, tapping his head. I laughed.
"Perhaps indeed. How's the gene sequencing going?"
"We've identified several clusters. We're trying to figure out what to do about them. Whether they have an instinct against incest and should be kept together, or whether to segregate them by gamete, or..."
Larzo shrugged.
"I'd assume put them all in reproductively incompatible groups with their closest kin, and then put those groups close enough they can talk to their brothers and sisters, but separate enough you can keep an eye on something like that."
"That's the current plan. How are the implants?"
I groaned.
"They're honestly the easiest part. The problem is developmental. They're... Well, they're fucked up. No kid should have to go through that. Their brain scans remind me of warzones. I have hope for the younger ones, but... Well, I guess the long and short of it is that I'm pretty sure a lot of them are not leaving this place anytime soon. "
"Does it give you pause? About the Arxur?"
I paused at that. Larzo did not pull his punches. I liked that about him.
"I mean, I think I know a Nazi croc when I see one, pal," I said, leaning back. "And maybe it makes me want to puke a little more now, to see the consequences. But I kinda knew what they were going in."
He examined me with his big round adorable eyes.
"I don't understand how you can stand them," he said eventually.
"At this point, Larzo, neither do I."
His alarm beeped. "I should go. Talk to you later, Andes. We'll play Upper Salwick next time. You can't possibly lose."
"I'll hold you to that!" I called after him. Then I slumped and went back to reading scans. Half the kids didn't even have names. The one I was currently looking at seemed healthy enough, given the baseline, and all she had was a string of numbers, and a little tag telling me her dad was named "Glim".
I had only been working for a few days, and already it felt eternal.