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goncharov

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Suibhne, Wild Man In The Forest

Little antlered one, little belling one, melodious little bleater, sweet I think the lowing you make in the glen. Home sickness for my little dwelling has come upon my mind, the calves in the plain, the deer on the moor. Oak, bushy, leafy, you are high above trees; Hazel, little branchy one, wisdom of hazel nuts. Alder, you are not spiteful, lovely is your colour, you are not prickly where you are in the gap. Blackthorn, little thorny one, black little sloe bush, Apple tree, little apple tree, violently everyone shakes you. Bramble, little humped vine, you do not grant fair terms; tearing me till you are sated with blood. Yew, you are conspicuous among tombs; Rowan, little berried one, sacred is your lovely white blooms. Holly, little protector, door against storms; Ash tree weapon in the hand of the warrior, baneful are you. Birch, smooth, blessed, proud, melodious, how lovely is each entangled branch at the top of your crest. Aspen, as it trembles from time to time I hear its leaves rustle and think it is the foray; Ivy, you are familiar in the dark woods.

Anonymous, twelfth century, from here

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Me on October 31: 

Me on November 1st: 

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how did they know

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County roads

Full of holes

On the route

I need to go

Road construction

Lane obstruction

Let me go

County roads

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Honestly it was so generous of Ladysmith Black Mambazo to bring in upcoming american musician Paul Simon on their Graceland album

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Andrew Garfield talks to Elmo about grief and the passing of his mother

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*RARE* John Denver & Johnny Cash - Take Me Home Country Roads

Found this while going through my granddad’s VHS tapes and couldn’t find it anywhere online, so here it is.

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It’s not a Discworld joke unless you read it, don’t parse it as a joke, and then carry on with your life for ten years until someone stops you to say something like “It’s a pavlovian response because the dog ate a pavlova” and you scream Terry’s name with enough indignant rage you hope it rattles the pillars of the multiverse so wherever his soul is he’ll hear it.

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One of my favorites.

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but on the real though, here is your guide to assyrian rice preparation from your friendly neighborhood assyrian:

start wanting rice. (or, if you are traditional, simply recognize your constant desire for rice.)

measure out two cups of rice. then one more. then two more. then another. this seems fine. you love rice. there is no way that this will backfire on you.

remember that your great-great-uncle’s recipe says it should be soaked overnight.

become consumed with despair.

decide to soak it for half an hour instead, acknowledging that the final product will be inferior and anger your ancestors but will still satisfy your now almost-overwhelming need for rice to be inside your body much faster.

remember that you should have set the water to boil when you soaked the rice. goddammit. 

once the water boils, put the rice in until it is half-cooked. the eyeballing or intuitive method is less effective than a timer but that’s how your aunt does it so you feel compelled to meet her standards.

now that the rice has fluffed up, realize how much rice six dry cups really is. holy shit. you’ve fucked up immeasurably. 

take a minute to dwell upon your failings.

grease a baking dish with butter. this will never be as elegant as you want it to and your fingers will get greasy, but the slightly shameful, self-indulgent joy of licking your fingers afterwards will make up for it.

pour the rice into the dish. wonder immediately if you actually buttered the dish beforehand and if you’ve just fucked up. 

melt approximately one thousand pounds of butter in the microwave and pour it over the rice, pondering your imminent death from rapid-onset arterial clogging. put a small pat of butter on the top to properly gild the lily.

put your pan into the oven, which you have absolutely preheated after your previous lack of foresight. shake the rice once or twice while it bakes to make sure the butter is well distributed. resist the impulse to climb into the oven with the rice. for the last ten minutes, sit next to the oven and count the seconds until it’s done.

remove the dish from the oven. shed a tear or two at the perfection laid before you. if you are dining with others, this is the time to serve the rice while making passive-aggressive statements about how oh no, you don’t need any help, you just made dinner all by yourself, you can serve everyone as well. (this is still fun if done alone, but optional.)

CONSUME THE RICE.

realize that you have eaten half of the dish in one sitting. no matter how much rice you made, this will always happen. 

put the leftovers away, if there are any, and enjoy a cup of chai while marveling at the amount of food you have just eaten. if possible, fall asleep in an armchair, sitting up, head tilted slightly back, like a grandpa.

for the rest of the evening, think fondly of how much rice you have in the fridge now and how many meals it will supplement, refusing to acknowledge that you will almost certainly eat the rest of it in a few hours for a midnight meal.

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Vimes and 71 hour Ahmed just really have.... something in jingo. The conversations he has with Ahmed where they're comparing their approaches to policing and Ahmed points out that vimes experience in the city is very different from his own.... the way they both struggle with the scope of what they can do vs what Ahmed calls being part of a big crime..... the way vimes's conversation with Ahmed changes him/reveals himself to himself, his dream that he can chase the big crimes and do something about the bigger more systemic crimes.... I don't think vimes really has a relationship like his one with Ahmed elsewhere in the series. Ahmed is his peer and an established officer on his own right. It's just interesting

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.im skiddlecat and have decided that from now on i think women are scary. thank you

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Would you consider this the greatest kiss? And we'll, and we'll dive right into the episode after this question that I had for Hannah though. Was this the greatest kiss in in in in television history? In sitcom history? I would say. -Lamorne 

Honestly, I genuinely feel like it is in TV history. It matches like the greatest movie kisses of all time. Like, you watch it and you're just like, whoa. Okay. Like everything somehow like ticks every box of all the like, romantic fantasies that girls have at least of just like, wow. There was just like, it was authentic and it was powerful. He went back in for a, a little kiss at the end. it was just like, woo. -Hannah

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