BBC News

Boxted Bridge, a weakened Victorian structure on the Essex–Suffolk border, may be spared from demolition if Essex County Council (ECC) approves a permanent ban on motor vehicles. The steel bridge, near Colchester, has been restricted to pedestrians and cyclists since January after corrosion forced its closure to traffic for two years.

ECC had previously considered demolishing the “dangerously weak” bridge and installing a modern replacement strong enough to carry heavy goods vehicles. But those plans could be withdrawn if a new Traffic Regulation Order (TRO) permanently prohibiting vehicles is approved, according to the Local Democracy Reporting Service.

Campaigners hoping to preserve the bridge say this is their most promising opening yet. They’re now trying to raise £12,300 to fund an independent assessment from Mann Williams, a structural engineering firm known for repairing historic buildings and advising the National Trust.

Lewis Barber, a Conservative county councillor supporting the effort, said the shift in direction is encouraging. “One battle done, we move on to the next one and now we need to keep putting the pressure on like we've been doing to get the repair option on the table,” he said. “We just want it explored. That’s as little as we’re asking for at this stage.”

The future of the bridge sits on Friday’s agenda for ECC’s development and regulation committee. An update prepared for members says responses to the TRO consultation are now being reviewed. If the vehicle ban is approved and legally enacted, the report notes, “the planning application to replace the bridge would be withdrawn.”

If the TRO is rejected, however, the council says a long-term solution will still be required — leaving demolition and replacement back in the conversation.

For residents and preservation advocates, the decision represents a pivotal moment. A permanent traffic ban may be the only viable way to protect one of the area’s surviving pieces of Victorian infrastructure, while keeping it open to the people who use it most: walkers and cyclists.

Campaigners Push for Permanent Traffic Ban to Save  a Historic Bridge

Artnet

For the first time in more than two centuries, four paintings from Tintoretto’s early “Stories from Genesis” cycle are hanging together again in Venice. Their reunion marks the culmination of a year-long restoration project that stripped away darkened varnish and layers of grime, revealing colors and details that had been obscured for generations.

The exhibition, Tintoretto Recounts Genesis: Research, Analysis, and Restoration, at the Gallerie dell’Accademia, highlights how much had been hidden beneath the surface. Three canvases — The Creation of the Animals, Original Sin, and Cain Kills Abel — belong to the Venetian museum and had long suffered from yellowed varnish, soot and the effects of repeated moves over the centuries. A fourth painting, Adam and Eve Before the Eternal Father, arrived on exceptional loan from the Uffizi Galleries in Florence. A fifth work from the original series, Creation of Eve, remains in a private German collection.

Together, they offer a rare opportunity to see one of Tintoretto’s earliest and most ambitious biblical cycles as a nearly complete set.

Giulio Manieri Elia, director of the Gallerie dell’Accademia, said the project shows “how scientific study and restoration can become a powerful narrative tool.” For him, the exhibition demonstrates the museum’s role not only in protecting and conserving artworks but also in expanding the knowledge around them.

Tintoretto completed the Genesis cycle in the early 1550s for the Scuola della Santissima Trinità. Even then, the paintings stood out. His trademark speed, theatrical contrasts and charged brushwork helped define Venetian Mannerism. But one of the revelations of the restoration is how much he relied on landscape as an active force — not just a backdrop. In Original Sin, for example, the dense foliage surrounding Adam and Eve has reemerged in multiple shades of green, restoring the emotional tension Tintoretto originally built into the scene.

The project also brought new insights into Tintoretto’s evolution. Technical analysis revealed his interest in Titian’s color and Michelangelo’s sculptural figures, showing how he blended those influences while refining his own dynamism. Researchers were able to trace his process from canvas preparation to charcoal underdrawings, paint application and late-stage revisions — a map of an artist still finding his signature speed and drama.

The restoration work, carried out between February 2024 and January 2025, prepared the paintings for an earlier exhibition at the Cincinnati Art Museum. It was jointly funded by the museum and the Foundation for Italian Art and Culture in New York.

Now back in Venice, the canvases appear almost newly illuminated. The softened colors and murky shadows that once dulled them have given way to fresher tones, sharper edges and a renewed energy that brings Tintoretto’s early ambition into focus.

Tintoretto Recounts Genesis: Research, Analysis, and Restoration runs at the Gallerie dell’Accademia through June 7.

Tintoretto’s Long-Separated “Genesis” Paintings Reunite in Venice After 200 Years

Talker News

Millions of people who live with chronic itching may be closer to relief after researchers uncovered what tells the brain it’s time to stop scratching. It turns out the sensation of “that’s enough” isn’t random at all — it’s controlled by a sensory channel acting as the body’s internal brake.

A team led by Professor Roberta Gualdani at the University of Louvain in Brussels identified a surprising role for an ion channel called TRPV4, revealing how the body regulates itch and why that system breaks down in conditions like eczema, psoriasis and kidney disease.

“We were initially studying TRPV4 in the context of pain,” Gualdani said. “But instead of a pain phenotype, what emerged very clearly was a disruption of itch, specifically, how scratching behaviour is regulated.”

TRPV4 belongs to a family of ion channels — tiny molecular gates in sensory neurons — that help the body detect pressure, temperature and physical stress. Although TRPV4 has long been suspected of contributing to touch sensitivity, its place in itch has been debated.

To get clarity, Gualdani’s team engineered a mouse model that removed TRPV4 only from sensory neurons. Earlier studies deleted the channel from all tissues, making it harder to know where it mattered most. This precision approach let researchers isolate TRPV4’s role in nerve pathways tied to touch, itch and pain.

The results were unexpected. In a chronic itch model resembling atopic dermatitis, mice lacking TRPV4 scratched less often — but when they did scratch, they scratched for much longer.

“At first glance, that seems paradoxical,” Gualdani said. “But it actually reveals something very important about how itch is regulated.”

What the data showed was that TRPV4 isn’t simply an itch generator. In certain mechanosensory neurons, it helps trigger a negative feedback signal — the brain’s internal message that says, “You’ve scratched enough.” Without TRPV4, that message never arrives. Relief feels incomplete, and scratching drags on.

“When we scratch an itch, at some point we stop because there's a negative feedback signal that tells us we're satisfied,” Gualdani said. “Without TRPV4, the mice don't feel this feedback, so they continue scratching much longer than normal.”

The team found that TRPV4’s role is more complicated than previously understood. In skin cells, the channel contributes to itch. In neurons, it helps restrain it. That dual nature means potential therapies must be far more targeted.

“This means that broadly blocking TRPV4 may not be the solution,” Gualdani said. “Future therapies may need to be much more targeted — perhaps acting only in the skin, without interfering with the neuronal mechanisms that tell us when to stop scratching.”

The findings, presented at the 70th Biophysical Society annual meeting in San Francisco, could reshape how scientists approach chronic itch — a condition that disrupts sleep, affects mental health and remains stubbornly hard to treat.

For millions living with eczema and similar disorders, understanding the body’s “stop-scratching” signal marks a promising shift. Instead of only dampening itch sensations, future treatments may finally help restore the very mechanism that tells the brain when relief has arrived.

Scientists Find the Body’s Built-In “Stop Scratching” Signal, Opening Door to New Eczema Treatments

Arlo isn’t just a loyal pet. To Sue Davis of Wolverhampton, he’s a lifeline. And on a recent winter walk, he proved exactly why.

Davis, 67, who is profoundly deaf, slipped on black ice and fell hard while taking Arlo out. She couldn’t stand, couldn’t call for help and was suddenly alone on a quiet street. Arlo, a black cocker spaniel trained as a hearing dog, rushed to her side and lay across her body to keep her warm and still. Then he did something he’d never been trained for: he looked for help.

When a passerby appeared down a nearby alleyway, Arlo shifted into full alert, barking and howling until the woman came over. She tried to lift Davis but couldn’t manage it alone. Moments later, a man walking by joined in and helped get Davis back on her feet.

“If it hadn't been for Arlo, I don't know what I'd have done,” Davis said. “There was no one else around, so I would've had to crawl to get help.”

The fall left her badly bruised. She was taken home and later reflected on how quickly things could have gone wrong. “We were only about two minutes from my house when I put my left foot out and that was it — I went down with a bang,” she said. “I felt dizzy and light-headed and I couldn’t get up. I just started crying and he knew something was wrong.”

Davis lost her hearing in her early 40s and has been open about how difficult living alone became. Everything shifted in 2021 when Hearing Dogs for Deaf People paired her with Arlo. She calls him her comfort blanket, the companion who gives her confidence and safety she feared she had lost.

“I’m safe with him,” she said. “Having Arlo is the best thing that’s ever happened to me, he loves me unconditionally, and I love him unconditionally. I couldn’t ask for a better friend.”

On a day when a fall could have turned dangerous, it was Arlo’s instincts, and his refusal to leave her side, that brought help. Sometimes heroes arrive in bright jackets or uniforms. Sometimes they show up in wagging tails and soft paws.

Hearing Dog Hailed as a Hero After Saving Owner Who Fell on Black Ice

Sunny Skyz

Sometimes the right people are in the right place at the right time. In the Phoenix area, that meant a security guard, a moving crew and a missing three-year-old girl whose case had triggered an Amber Alert the day before.

Little Kehlani Rogers had allegedly been taken from her Avondale home. By Sunday morning, the alert had reached a QuikTrip security guard who immediately recognized both the toddler and 23-year-old suspect Marina Noriega. Instead of waiting for backup, he decided to act.

He spotted a Camelback Moving crew parked at the station and asked for help. The workers listened, looked at the suspect’s vehicle and quickly came up with a plan. They pulled their trucks into position and boxed in the pickup Noriega was driving, making it impossible for her to leave while the guard called 911.

“We’re a moving company, so we’re not professional heroes by any means,” said Chad Olsen, president of Camelback Moving. “But to listen to the dashcam and watch the dashcam footage of the crew kind of identifying the situation and who this was, and putting the plan together that we’re going to block this truck in with our truck and not allow them to leave. I couldn’t be more proud.”

Phoenix police arrived within minutes. Noriega was taken into custody, and officers confirmed that Kehlani was safe and unharmed.

Camelback Moving posted about the rescue shortly after, praising both the teamwork and the quick instincts that helped bring the little girl home:

“We couldn’t be more proud of our Camelback Moving employees this morning for assisting in the recovery of an abducted 3-year-old after an Amber Alert was issued last night. Recognizing the situation alongside a QT security guard, our crew acted quickly and positioned their trucks to block the suspect’s vehicle, preventing the suspect’s vehicle from fleeing until police arrived.
Their awareness, teamwork and willingness to take initiative helped bring her home safely, for which we are immensely grateful.
Awareness matters. Action matters. This is why the Amber Alert system works!”

The company also publicly thanked team members Robert Hernandez, Ralph Vollmert, Christopher Dixon, Kevin Place, Kevin Kimes, Gerardo Galacia, Kobe Brown and Michael Macallum for stepping in when it mattered.

It wasn’t a planned rescue. It wasn’t anyone’s job description. But a guard paying attention and a group of movers willing to get involved turned an ordinary stop at a gas station into something far bigger.

And for one family, it meant everything.

Moving Crew Helps Stop Suspect and Save Missing Toddler After Amber Alert

Percy doesn’t walk anywhere. He trots, twirls and occasionally launches himself into the air, which is how a five-month-old piglet ended up charming an entire animal sanctuary.

The miniature black-and-white Juliana cross is the newest resident at Bleakholt Animal Sanctuary in Ramsbottom, Lancashire. He arrived in December after outgrowing the house he had been living in. What began as a litter-trained, indoor pet quickly turned into a stronger, louder and far more energetic animal than his former owners expected.

“He's so sweet and he loves to do 'zoomies' and then jump in the air,” said sanctuary manager Karen Weed. People can picture it instantly. A tiny piglet skittering sideways, picking up speed and darting around his pen like a wind-up toy.

Juliana pigs, despite their reputation as manageable companions, still grow to about 45 centimetres tall and carry a surprising amount of strength. Weed says it’s a common pattern. Families fall for the look, the small size and the novelty, only to discover that even miniature pigs aren’t really suited to being inside a home all day.

“It’s a common reason we get pigs in,” she told BBC Radio Lancashire.

Percy is adapting quickly to his new setup. He’s friendly, loves attention and owns six outfits to help keep him warm. The sanctuary isn’t looking to rehome him. Instead, they’re hoping he’ll settle in and eventually bond with Boris, one of the seven pigs already living on the site. For now, he’s doing what young pigs do best. Playing, exploring and figuring out what it means to be a pig after starting his life on carpets and couches.

Weed says sanctuary life suits him. He’s curious, vocal and a little chaotic. “Percy will melt your heart — he's so funny.”

Caring for him comes with a cost. Feeding, bedding and general upkeep are expected to reach “a couple of thousand pounds” a year. With about 250 animals onsite and soaring operating expenses, the sanctuary is looking for people to sponsor Percy to help cover his care.

He may be small, but he’s not shy about taking up space or attention. And from the sound of things, no one at the sanctuary minds. Percy runs his zoomies now on solid ground, with room to grow and a community ready to cheer him on.

A Piglet With a Love for Zoomies is Finally Settling Into Sanctuary Life

Dean Commodore didn’t set out to become anyone’s online mentor. He was just renovating his first family home in Ipswich and figured he’d film a few clips along the way. Now he’s known to nearly half a million people as “DIY Dad,” the man who teaches you how to bleed a radiator, hang a mirror or finally attempt the job you keep putting off.

At 52, he’s built something that feels surprisingly intimate for social media. His series, Dad Showed Me, grew from a simple idea. “In bygone eras, dads and uncles would show young people how things are done,” he said. “My followers say that isn't the case anymore, and that is why I am stepping in.”

It’s a sentiment that explains the tone of his comments section. People aren’t just watching. They’re thanking him. They’re showing him their results. Some even tell him he’s the only one who’s ever explained these things to them.

Commodore sees all of it. And he takes it seriously.

He works full-time as a supervisor for a local housing association, squeezing filming and editing into evenings and weekends. Followers suggest the next set of jobs. He listens. Then he turns their requests into videos that feel less like a tutorial and more like someone standing next to you saying, “Go on, you can do this.”

He didn’t grow up dreaming of power drills or content creation, but moving from east London to Ipswich nudged him toward both. The slower pace gave him space to tackle renovation projects, and those early experiences became the backbone of his online persona.

The unexpected part is how connected he feels to the people on the other end of the camera. They send him photos of freshly painted walls or newly fixed doors. They update him on projects he inspired. He lights up when he talks about it.

“It’s a sacred position to be someone's parent and I feel like their surrogate dad — I am their DIY dad, and that is a privilege,” he said.

At home, he’s still just Dad. A single father to a son and daughter, navigating school runs, meals, and the occasional reality check about his online fame. His daughter recently gave him one of those.

“My daughter asked me the other day, 'dad, why can't you be like a normal dad?', because I know the lyrics and the moves to a TikTok dance,” he said. “She can't believe that her 52 year-old dad is up-to-date with these trends.”

But that’s part of the charm. Commodore’s tutorials work because they balance competence with warmth. He doesn’t talk down to people. He doesn’t pretend everything is straightforward. He shows the mistakes, the fixes, the real process. It feels less like expert instruction and more like borrowing confidence from someone who’s figured it out already.

And in a digital space full of quick hacks and shortcuts, he’s offering something steadier: the sense that even small skills can make people feel more capable in their own homes.

He may never meet most of the people he helps, but they keep showing up with another question, another project, another message saying thanks. For Commodore, that’s more than enough reason to keep filming after long workdays or on weekends when he could be doing anything else.

The impact of it all still catches him off guard. He set out to fix up a house. Somewhere along the way, he ended up giving people something they didn’t realize they were missing — someone patient, someone encouraging, someone willing to explain the stuff they were never taught.

And he seems genuinely happy to fill that role.

After all, he says, if people are going to call him their DIY dad, he might as well live up to the name.

Meet the Dad Who Became the Internet’s Go-To Fix-It Mentor

ABC News

It started as a simple ride home for lunch in northern New Hampshire, the kind snowmobilers know by heart. Fresh snow, quiet trails and the sort of winter day where the biggest concern is getting back before the coffee gets cold.

Then Mike Dion noticed something out of place in the white.

A patch of fur. A head. And nothing else.

“That’s all you could see, was the hair and her head,” he told WMUR-TV. “Her body was just sunk down in the snow.”

The group stopped and quickly realized the young female moose wasn’t resting. She was trapped. Nearly 1.5 metres of snow had swallowed her so completely that Dion said she “was unable to move, just couldn’t move at all.” They tried calling for help, but spotty cell service meant getting through to New Hampshire Fish and Game wasn’t an option. Waiting for rescue crews, they figured, wasn’t one either.

With no real plan beyond helping, they got to work.

The moose didn’t fight them. She didn’t try to flee. She just stood there — calm, exhausted and stuck — while the snowmobilers dug around her with whatever they had, mostly their hands and boots. It took about 20 minutes. Enough time to realize how bad things could have turned.

“I don’t know if the legs weren’t touching the ground, there was so much snow there, or what happened,” Dion said. What he did know was that leaving her wasn’t something they could do.

When the last of the snow gave way, the moose finally lifted herself out. Wobbly but alert. Ready to move. And, to everyone’s relief, still gentle.

“Eventually, we got her up and got her going, and she seemed to be all in good health,” Dion said. “I think she was happy. She wasn’t aggressive or too nasty with us. That’s what we were worried about at first.”

Wildlife officials say stories like this often end differently. Moose can be dangerous, even when tired, and approaching them isn’t something they encourage.

“They could kick you or hurt you if you were really to try to grab ahold of one,” said Becky Fuda, a deer project leader at New Hampshire Fish and Game. She added that when people encounter distressed animals, calling authorities should always be the first step.

This time, Dion’s group didn’t have that option. They also didn’t have much time to spare. In that sense, everyone involved agrees the moose’s exhaustion likely kept the rescue from escalating.

“It’s probably a good thing that she was exhausted,” Dion said.

New Hampshire is home to an estimated 3,000 to 4,000 moose. Just across the border, Maine hosts one of the largest populations in the eastern United States with roughly 60,000 to 70,000 animals. Encounters aren’t unusual. Finding one buried in a snowbank almost entirely out of sight is.

What the group saw that afternoon could have been another quiet winter scene if they hadn’t been paying attention. Instead, it became 20 minutes of digging, a few worried glances and eventually a moose trotting off into the trees as if nothing had happened.

Sometimes lunch can wait.

Snowmobilers Spot a Moose in Trouble and Step In To Help

Kare11 NBC

Larry Koch spends his career helping build real cities, the kind designed to stand for decades. Every winter, he builds a different kind of city, one that lasts just long enough to be admired before it’s tossed out with the crumbs.

“This is Paris,” Larry says, pointing to a video on his laptop. The Eiffel Tower never looked more delicious, shaped from cookies, candy, crackers, and frosting. For 18 years, Larry, along with family, co workers, friends, and curious neighbors, has been recreating famous cities in astonishing edible detail. One year it was Paris. Another winter brought Rome, complete with the Vatican, the Colosseum, and the Pantheon, all sourced from the baking aisle instead of a lumberyard.

Last fall, Larry decided it was time to build something closer to home.

“It does kind of remind you that we have a pretty neat city,” he says, standing in his Edina home and looking over a brightly colored miniature Minneapolis.

This year’s sugary skyline stretches from the Grain Belt Beer sign to the Lake Harriet Bandshell. Between them sit lovingly crafted versions of the Stone Arch Bridge, the Basilica of St. Mary, the IDS and Foshay towers, the Sculpture Garden, and other landmarks that give Minneapolis its familiar shape. All shrunk down, all edible, all made with care.

“I can't even begin to guess how many hours it takes,” Larry’s wife, Kerry, says.

Kerry has her own role in this winter tradition. She makes the frosting. A lot of frosting. Roughly 40 pounds each year, enough to coat buildings, glue structures together, patch cracks, and rescue countless leaning towers. She scrolls through photos on her phone showing kitchen counters covered in bowls, bags, and clouds of powdered sugar. “This is kind of the extent of what the kitchen looks like for about a week or two,” she says.

She also got a special assignment this season. “I did the little Mary Tyler Moore,” Kerry says, laughing as she holds up a figure no bigger than a fingertip, tossing her tiny beret in front of the white house made famous in the 1970s sitcom set in Minneapolis.

Each December, Larry assembles the pieces in the entryway of their home, building the city block by block on top of a cabinet. The goal is always the same: finish by Christmas. But by February, another ritual follows.

“I pull all the lights and stuff out of it, and then we throw it away,” Larry says. “It’s part of the nature of it.”

This year’s Mini Apple was inspired partly by the 100th anniversary of the Basilica. But the couple says the timing felt meaningful in other ways too. As Minneapolis found itself in the national spotlight amid ICE’s Operation Metro Surge, the diorama glowing at the Kochs’ front door offered a softer look at the city. A reminder of neighborhoods, landmarks, and the sense of place people share.

“I love Minneapolis,” Kerry says. “It’s a good reminder when things are heavy, we have a lot to be very grateful for here.”

And so the cycle continues. Larry builds cities that endure in his day job, and cities that melt back into memory in his living room. One lasting just long enough to lift spirits, light up a holiday and remind people why they love where they live.

Family Crafts Miniature Minneapolis Using Frosting, Crackers And Candy

Good News Network

For many people leaving an abusive partner, the most dangerous moment is the moment they try to walk out the door. The logistics alone can stop someone in their tracks. Boxes, trucks, timing, safety. It can feel impossible. That is why a California moving company has spent the past 25 years turning its business into a lifeline.

Meathead Movers, the state’s largest independently owned moving company, has been offering free moving services to domestic violence survivors for decades. The company’s founders, brothers Aaron and Evan Steed, started helping survivors long before the idea became a national model. They were young, running a growing business, and seeing firsthand how desperate the need was.

“These moves became very personal to us,” Aaron told GNN in 2015. “They made all the employees so proud, and became part of our mission statement.”

Their work resonated far beyond California. In 2015, Meathead Movers launched a coalition called #MoveToEndDV, inviting other companies to do the same. Eight moving companies across the country joined, and more than 200 businesses pledged free services of their own. The network now includes self storage companies, cleaners, and even security firms in three California cities that will send a guard during a survivor’s move.

Last year alone, Meathead Movers completed 106 domestic violence-related moves for free, including eight emergency relocations in San Luis Obispo, Ventura County, Orange County, Fresno and Bakersfield.

The idea has sparked ripple effects. After reading about the program, a moving company owner in Fort Worth, Texas reached out to ask how they could participate despite not having the budget. Aaron suggested dedicating one day a month, with employees volunteering their labor. Nearly the entire staff agreed, and today that company, Veterans Moving America, works with shelters to support local survivors.

They are not alone. Other companies that have joined #MoveToEndDV include Helping Hands Moving and Maids in Salt Lake City, We Help! Cincinnati Movers in Ohio, Elite Moving Services in Des Moines, Gentle Giant in Boston, Parks Moving and Storage in Pennsylvania, Always Professional Moving in Phoenix, and Brown Box Movers in Dallas.

The process is structured for safety. Shelters screen each request before movers arrive. It protects the survivor and the moving crew. “What’s good about that is, they can be vetting the requests for help, supporting the women with counseling, and making sure when we went in, the proper restraining orders were in place, or police were on hand if necessary,” Aaron explained.

In 2020, the National Coalition Against Domestic Violence took over facilitation of #MoveToEndDV. With more resources and access to shelters nationwide, the partnership has expanded the reach of a program built on something simple: take your skills and use them to help someone rebuild.

Employees say the work changes them too. It is hard to forget the moment a family steps into a truck with nothing but a chance at a safer life. The sense of purpose spreads quickly through a team, and often through a community.

“These women are completely abandoning their life as they know it and trying to rebuild from scratch, and businesses are rallying together for them,” Aaron said. “We want them to know that people in the community have their back. We want to do this in communities all over the country.”

For survivors, that support can mean the difference between staying and getting out. For the companies involved, it has become proof that an ordinary service can carry an extraordinary impact.

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