mosseater1973

[mosseater1973]

today i got a mocha and the cashier asked if i wanted to add whipped cream. i asked if it cost extra, and he said,

“we never charge extra for extra whimsy!”

peet’s cashier, never let the world change you. i hope you’re out there finding whimsy as we speak ☕️

[mosseater1973]

have you, like many others, ever wondered how gimli managed to overtake legolas’ kill count during the battle of helms deep? well wonder no longer!

two factors go into this: one, arrows. in the movies, it seems like legolas has a never ending supply (i wont fault them too much for this because he does take the time to scavenge for arrows, though not during the heat of battle). in the books, though, he very quickly has to resort to using his knives once the orcs breach the wall.

two, in the books, when theoden calls for his forces to fall back behind the second wall, gimli is left fighting with a few other soldiers while legolas manages to retreat, giving gimli an opportunity to up his kill count.

now, i don’t know whether these numbers (42 and 43) are realistic for a battle of this scale, but they are the same numbers tolkien used in the books. i always think about how those kills are only a drop in the bucket against a force of 10,000, but i digress.

**edit: that scene in the movie where legolas and gimli share their kill counts is actually the first time they’re seeing each other after the battle- it’s the first time they find out that they’re both alive and well after being separated and it makes me so emotional lol

[mosseater1973]

this is my oak sapling, lizzie, who i love dearly. the second picture is the result of what i guess is the work of a chipmunk- she’s lost three healthy leaves and a bud, and her remaining leaf has been gnawed.

i’ve added more soil for stability and have moved her to safer location, but if more experienced plant parents have advice as to how and if she can best heal, i would love to hear it!

otherwise, please pray for her quick recovery <3 i am so heartbroken :(

[mosseater1973]

head canon that when frodo brought sam along to the grey havens he was secretly cherishing those last times that they got to sleep side by side, a feeling he hadn’t experienced in so long.

not to mention, in the books, rosie and sam actually move in to bag end with frodo after they get married, so he was living so tantalizingly close to sam

[mosseater1973]

love poem

let me write you

a love poem made

of paper sheets and

sun-ink, traced

on your back in

summer morning

blind-stripes that i

can run my fingers through-

put your face in

my hands and let me

see you, the way i couldn’t

when we tented under

blankets and giggled in the

dark, an amalgamation of

breath and whispers and

skin-

let me see you, the

way i can’t when you’re

near; let me sing to

the shaggy cow

and the red-wing black

bird in

your absence

a song i wrote for you-

a love poem is not

difficult; so long as

i know you love the sun and

the black bears roving and the

falcon’s keen cry in the

high blue air,

it is easy-

so let me write it.

[mosseater1973]

when you’re watching the lord of the rings, you don’t really get the full picture of just how insane it is that sam was able to defeat shelob in battle—in the book, tolkien spends literal paragraphs describing how ancient and powerful shelob is, how her skin is so tough that no warrior (NO warrior, like ever !) has been able to pierce it.

like sure sam had the phial of galadriel, but this guy is 3 and a half feet tall with absolutely zero training and he sent shelob crawling back into her little cave with nothing but pure rage. like OMG??? literal chihuahua of hobbits istg

[mosseater1973]

rereading the two towers, and i’m SO obsessed with ent lore. they briefly mention the entwives in the movies, but what they don’t explain is that the entwives loved the land so much that they wanted to farm it, so they grew these gardens while the ents wandered. when the ents eventually returned to the entwives’ gardens, they found them burnt and uprooted and torn asunder by a war they weren’t a part of.

when treebeard said they “lost” the entwives, he’s not indicating that the ents are incompetent or comedically careless—he’s saying that the ents returned to find the entwives and discovered them either dead or forced so deeply into hiding that the ents have no chance of finding them again.

in the books, the ents are far more quick to reach a decision about their involvement in the war at the entmoot—they actually decide to march against isengard themselves, with no further persuasion from merry and pippin. i understand why they’re portrayed the way they are in the movies, but the books offer such a greater understanding of who the ents are—they know their own strength and they know the goings-on of middle earth, and they choose to fight because they’ve seen the destruction of the entwives; they know what happens to unwilling participants of war. the ents as a people have experienced incredible tragedy, but they retain such wisdom and strength and pride.

[mosseater1973]

my english professor said something about love poems being difficult to write, but i disagree. i consider every poem i write to be a love poem; a love poem to the people i love, the things i love, and to myself. i want my poems to be love letters to the world.

[mosseater1973]

the thing is that war should always be reluctant. no one should want to fight. legolas and gimli and aragorn don't want to kill the orcs, they just want to to save merry and pippin. gandalf does not want to fight the balrog, he wants to pass through moria unharmed. aragorn doesn't even want to take power from the stewards of gondor, he just wants the people to have a stable leader. faramir says it best when he hopes that one day they will tell stories, sitting on a wall in the sun, laughing at old grief. we just want better times. we just want to be happy. we don't want to fight, we only fight because we have to. because they are forcing us

[mosseater1973]

No one makes Galadriel spooky enough. Like yea I get she’s the most beautiful elven maiden the world has ever seen but she’s also downright unsettling.

I bet she fuckin stares at people without blinking for like a solid five minutes and then when you finally ask her what fuck is up she tells you how you’re gonna die.

[mosseater1973]

one of the best things about having a name from the lord of the rings is that i always have a fun fact about me ready to go. oh, you want to do an icebreaker? you want to play two truths and a lie? i got you !

[mosseater1973]

no name

yours is a place with no name-

not coldwater, nor chestnut, nor

creed’s- my mind can only

take me there, to look on the

splitting screen door and the

steps you painted red with

black horses and clover

still, some winters, i hear the sleigh

bells, their ring and the harsh

thud-creak of the paint-stuck

door- we’d come in from the

snow-blowing to see

kerosene lamps and a softly

shedding christmas tree

recall the room you prepared for

me; the canopies, the fairy

house, the hammock hanging over

a floor painted blue with rabbits,

then the wall-trees and wall-lands and

ceiling-branches; all a porch-mural

in which i could live

it smelled deliciously of must-

in the cellar, at least, treading

age-hard oak to feed the stove-

mouth coal- it smelled of sulphur, often,

when you filled the apron sink with dish

water and looked out the window to

the wild, cumulus hydrangeas

all that i touched became a

thrill; wood-handled fridge and

wood-seated toilets, muslin curtains and

iron door latches and cabinet

latches and great-grandmother-

braided rugs, everything wine-

aged and sweet

yours is a place with no name, but i

know how the walls trilled when the sun

blossomed over wind-mill hills; how the

window-candles welcomed and the

tree swing waved and you

beckoned on that porch to the tune of

black birds singing.

[mosseater1973]

dances

rain slips to the ground,

heedless of the sun.

we make the grass our bed,

entwining our bared arms while

mist hangs low, tickling

our noses and blunting grass-blades,

and we get up and twirl

in the wet, cool,

watching the clouds wheel

and bump, undulating

in a sweet sky-dance

that never ceases,

not even for the delicious

chill of night.

we catch fireflies in our palms,

watch our wrists glow

green and our tired

eyes twinkle. the

moon is up;

we hoot and sing,

gasping at bat-wing flutters

and the feel of

clasped fingers,

damp skin on skin.

[mosseater1973]

change

dawn-dark

you gut your pockets

hooked fingers draw out

wrinkly white innards

and change clatters

to the floor

stoop!

catch the rolling quarters

feel their ribbed edges

clutch the pennies

in your palms

quick!

search the floorboards

nickels spiral

scratch, scratch, scratch!

you breathe

you rasp

back bent and

lungs heaving

too old for retrieving dimes

and prickly nail-bed

splinters

[mosseater1973]

[mosseater1973]

[mosseater1973]

i’ve recently started using the treadmill, and i’ve never been much of a runner, but the most motivating thing in the world is blasting the lord of the rings soundtrack (especially the riders of rohan in the two towers and the fields of the pelennor in return of the king). when the music soars, i go as fast as i can and imagine that i’m tracking a pack of orcs across rohan or riding for ruin and the world’s ending and i feel so freaking cool lol