#JOIN THE CORN OR PERISH

[papsiguesss]

FOR YOU SEE FRIEND JOHN-

Seward: "I don't understand why you can't just tell me what's really wrong with Lucy!"

Van Helsing:

[trinityhousekeeper]

Trinity HouseKeepers is ready to set sail for our 1st Annual Community Outreach! ⚓️🎄🦃 Join us in spreading some holiday cheer by donating non-perishable items or a new toy to support those in need. As a thank you for your generosity, you’ll receive a $20 discount on your next cleaning service with Trinity HouseKeepers! Here’s how to join the fun: 1. Choose from our list of non-perishable items or pick a new toy you’d love to donate. 2. On the day of your scheduled cleaning, leave your donations out for our crew to collect. 3. Enjoy your $20 discount on your current or next cleaning service! Suggested Non-Perishable Items: - Canned goods: green beans, corn, cranberry sauce, canned yams - Pasta, rice, instant mashed potatoes, boxed stuffing, cornbread mix - Canned chicken, turkey, peanut butter - Boxed meals Your kindness makes a difference! Thank you for helping us make this holiday season brighter for our community. 🌟❤️ Anchors Away, Cherise Dumas Trinity HouseKeepers ⚓️ #TrinityHouseKeepers #CommunityOutreach #CaptainFlamingo #HolidayGiving #MakeADifference

[seleuss]

SELEUSS - SPECIAL CHOCOLATE TRUFFLE COLLECTION

BATCH V26

SELEUSS - SPECIAL COLLECTION - V26

This special chocolate truffle collection contains the following:

ROSA KATOPODIS (ROSE PETAL INFUSED)

BRAZILIAN ORGANIC HONEY

ORANGE BLOSSOM SPECIAL (HONEY)

GUAVA PASSION FRUIT

MUCHEN 26% (MUNICH 36%)

SCHWARZ: XOCO 84% (NON-DAIRY)

EIREANN D'OR: GLENCARA IRISH CREAM

VANILLA# - FIREWEED HONEY & SPICED RUM

LA DOLCE COCONUT (NON-DAIRY)

IDA'S RASPBERRIES

GRAND MARNIER

PICCO NOCCI - HAZELNUT GIANDUJA

CONTAINS: Soy, Milk, gluten and RESIDUAL ALCOHOL (some of the PRODUCTS CONTAINS LIQUOR AND THE ALCOHOL CONTENT IS ONE PERCENT (1%) OR LESS OF THE WEIGHT OF THE PRODUCT. EXEMPTIONS UNDER: rcw 66.12.160).  This product is processed in a facility that contains milk, wheat, hazelnuts, almonds, peanuts, cashews and other nuts.  [ does not contain: caramel, corn syrup, tapioca syrup, food coloring, OR palm oil* ]  *EXCEPT IN NON-DAIRY VARIETIES.

STORAGE: [PERISHABLE ITEM] Please refrigerate chocolates in an airtight container or plastic bag. 

PREPARATION: For best results, please allow chocolates to equalize to room temperature of between 68-72°F (~20-22°C) for approximately 10-15 minutes; depending on ambient room temperature and in an airtight environment to prevent moisture condensation on the surface of the chocolates.  Thank you and enjoy!

[fourmula1]

Would you consider writing more apocalypse maxiel please? 🥺

Daniel knew they couldn’t stay here forever. It was nice to just pretend, for a little while, though.

He’d broken in through an unlocked window, heaved his body up and through where he’d landed in a back bedroom – a guest bedroom, by the bland looks of it.

Daniel adjusted the bandana up over his face a bit, the bottom bits tucked into the zip of his hoodie, close around his face. He’d have to clear the house before he could let Max inside and he didn’t really know how effective covering his face was to the virus but. So far he and Max were okay.

Daniel didn’t want to risk any infected persons being in the house, though. Or corpses. The world went to fucking shit before the research was really out on if dead bodies were a risk or not. No one knew. He didn’t want to risk it.

Quietly, bow knife in his hand, Daniel crept out of the bedroom and into the hall where he peered into a master suite. The bed sheets were rumpled, but everything was dusty. No one had been here in some time. He continued down to the second room, an office, and found more dust and papers strewn about. This neighbourhood hadn’t been ransacked, which Daniel was surprised to learn. They’d seen no signs of other life when they came through and Daniel was kind of grateful. It’d been him and Max alone for a little while. They’d met people here and there, stayed a few nights with a group or two, but for the most part Max didn’t trust anyone but Daniel, and Daniel found it hard to find fault in that.

Creeping down the hall Daniel peered into the living room, the kitchen, and found nothing. Relieved, he approached the front door to let Max in. He’d left Max out hiding in the driveway behind an abandoned car, told him to come find Daniel if he’d not emerged in five minutes.

Turning the lock, the door creaked open and Daniel stuck his head out.

“Max,” he called, waiting for Max to join him, locking the door back behind when Max slipped inside. He tugged the bandana down off his face, safe to breathe in the walls of this abandoned home.

“This is nice,” Max said as he glanced around. It’d be a good stop for the night. For a few nights. Before the need for water and food pushed them on again.

“I checked all the rooms, no one’s been here in ages,” Daniel said as he slid his knife back into the holster on his hip. “I’m gonna see if there’s anything edible in the cupboards,” he said, heading off for the kitchen. Max dropped their backpack by the door and sighed, relieved briefly of the weight of carrying their entire lives on his back.

Daniel opened the pantry cupboards, checked for non-perishables, anything they could eat or take with them. Dusty canisters of baking ingredients, an unopened bag of chocolate chips (he’s definitely taking it), a few cans of vegetables – green beans, corn, mixed vegetables - , and two cans of chicken noodle soup. Daniel groans in appreciation. The expiration dates are good, they’re eating tonight.

“Oh my god!” Max cries from down the hall, but it’s excited, not terrified. Daniel almost panics as he yanks his head out of the cupboard and moves to the hallway entrance to shout after him.

“What? What is it?” He asks, grinning as Max’s head pops out from the bathroom. In his hand he’s holding an electric razor.

“It’s battery operated! It works!” He says, eyes lit up in a way Daniel hasn’t seen in a long time. Daniel can’t help but to laugh – delighted, thrilled, so appreciative of the tiniest things in life, these days. Max absolutely hates his facial hair; patchy, itchy, nothing he’s gotten used to as they’ve been on the move.

“Your lucky day, Maxy,” Daniel grins, laughing and shaking his head. “Have at ‘er,” he says as he dips back to the kitchen. The power grid has been out for weeks at this point and he knows there’s no hope of using the stove or microwave.

Luck strikes him in his investigation of the garage. A camp-stove powered by propane. He lugs it out to the backyard, sets up on the little deck of the house and goes back inside the patio doors to find a can opener and a pot to cook their soup.

When Max emerges he’s almost clean-shaven; as clean as an electric razor can get, and Daniel’s heart clenches. There’s his sweet, beautiful, boyish face. Daniel loves all the Maxes he’s seen over the years but he really hasn’t seen this one in a long time and he takes the opportunity to run his fingertips over Max’s cheeks, pulls him in for a kiss.

“Pretty,” Daniel says before going back to turn the little stove off.

He’s grateful for this little respite with the locked doors and windows, a bed to sleep in. He knows it won’t be forever. Others will be out prowling in the exact same way they are, and they’ve learned by now that most people cannot be trusted these days.

Soon what little food left behind here will run out, and even sooner their water will, and they’ll be off once more.

For now, sat at a kitchen table, eating with real dishes and cutlery like a normal person, Daniel savours it and lets himself have just this moment of peace.

[mrdrzezstchkowitzatyourservice]

Celebrating the Beginning of Autumn by Talking About my Favorite Song

Ah, Fall is finally here. Finally we are getting the rain we need to revive our sun-scorched fields, the mornings are crisp and cool, and the valleys are painted by the golds, oranges, reds and yellows of all the broadleafs. 

Autumn has always been a favorite time of the year for me, for I feel that it brings my community closer together as we celebrate the harvest and all the good things God has given to us. In particular, music leads the atmosphere. I’ve heard fiddles, banjos, guitars, pianos, the whole nine yards. There’s nothing like sitting around a campfire on a cold evening with corn and cider, listing to the fiddlers play and watching as the sun settles into its cradle on the horizon.

That’s why, when I heard a certain song, I immediately felt a connection to it. Now, that song is Candy, by the Blasting Company. You might recognize the name- they did the soundtrack for Over the Garden Wall.

Candy was a single that was released a couple of years ago. What it is is a song about the American Civil War told through the eyes of two Southern civilians. I’ll give you the lyrics:

Candy took me down Candy took me down Down to her cellar Down to her cellar

We sat in candlelight Drinking her father's wine Sheltered in darkness Cold earth around us

That's when the Union came In veils of stormy rain

She talked about her pa How she watched him in awe Preaching the Gospels She was delightful

We heard the thunder fall Damn near break down these walls The bottles ringing Us two just sitting

Outside the cannonballs Came screaming through the squall

She took to crying then I watched the candle dim And curl and shudder Afraid to touch her

And as the flame went dead Dear God I felt her head Rest tired upon me Just breathing softly

Outside the city burned Lord it was hell on earth

As darkness swept aside That breathless candlelight I felt her breathing And I started singing

"Soldiers they will come and Soldiers they will go The war may lay the lot of us In rows of granite stone And if I join the cavalry and Perish far from home A life as sweet as Candy I may never live to know

Cities they will burn And families will crack The hate that drove us from our homes Will drag the living back Limping from the darkness With our hatred in our tracks A long and lonely shadow That can never be undone"

But Candy is asleep In darkness and in peace And my heart fills the silence With its happy little...

Take a moment -without listening to the song- and read those lyrics. Think about what they mean for a minute. It seems like something that would actually be sung back in the day, especially in the late-war South, when the fervor of the war had long since dissipated, and it was all a matter of sorrow and worry.

There’s nothing political in the song, either. It doesn’t talk about going to fight for freedom, and there isn’t anything about brave soldiers either. The Union is mentioned once, passively, as if there’s other things on the narrator’s mind. And there really is.

It all takes place in a cellar. Two people, likely teenagers or possibly even children, are sitting around a candle listening as their world is shelled into oblivion above them. Candy, the only one given a name here, tells the narrator about her father, and the narrator listens. The lyrics suggest that he might even have feelings for her. Later, she appears to faint when the candle goes out.

Then comes one of the greatest bits of lyricism I think I might have ever heard. The narrator begins to sing about how he has seen the war come and go from his town, how he believes that they will all die soon, how he has expressed desires to join the cavalry. But now those desires are gone as he realizes that he would die and miss out on a fulfilling life.

He then goes on to describe how the world around him has fallen apart. How he’s seen the people he calls enemies burning and scouring the land, and how families are been ripped apart as they claim their loyalties to one side or another. But he also describes how one they will reconcile, and return to rebuild their broken homes, and how in the aftermath of suffering, there is no more room for hatred. Last of all, he describes how the war will continue to cast its lingering, bitter shadow over the land, with the effects of the war being felt far into the future, possibly forever.

The narrator then seems to snap back to reality, but is cut off by ...something. That’s where the lyrics stop, there are no more.

Now, here is where the sound comes into play.

Until the narrator starts singing, the melody is soft singing with gentle guitar and later accordion in the background. It betrays no urgency, and almost seems like a poem that’s been set to music. It feels like something that’d be played on the radio in a general store. In truth, it’s a false sense of security, lulling you into gentle thoughts, no matter how dark the lyrics may be.

As soon as this part is over, the song launches into something else. Two notes off the accordion, and it feels as though we have been taken by the hand and dragged into the sky. The ensemble seems to have gotten bigger, with a host of string instruments being added. The melodic shriek of the fiddle wraps you up in sweeps you up, far, far, away. It’s here that the narrator sings, his voice is desperate, sorrowful, as if it’s a prayer that he hopes the Lord will hear over the thunder of cannons.

The melody continues until the last line: 

And my heart fills the silence with its happy little...

And just like that, we hear no more of the narrator. He has not stopped singing, he has been stopped. His voice does not trail off, it is cut off. As soon as that last word is uttered, the fragile, somber mood produced by the strings is shattered by the sudden and almost violent intrusion of brass. What was before folk music was been replaced by a near-militaristic tune, almost sounding like a death-march of sorts, what with this section retaining a sort of sad air about it.

The brass continues to the end of the song. There are no more lyrics. We never know what happens to the narrator or Candy. We never know if they have been found by enemy forces, or if a cannonball has breached their hiding place, or if they are safe and alive. We are left fulfilled, but empty by this conclusion.

Personally I believe this song to be the best Civil War song through a Southern perspective (and perhaps one of the best songs ever written period, but that’s simply my opinion) because of how it presents itself. There is nothing that might be considered “propagandic” or biased about it. It simply asks. “If soldiers came to fight in your town, some to defend and some to burn, wouldn’t you be scared?” The Civil War introduced Total War to the playbooks of armies all over the world. It taught people that by aiming beyond armies, wars could be won faster, even if thousands of civilians suffered. Even today, those tactics are used on and behind the battlefields; Sherman said “war is hell” but it did not stop war, and he was as much a hypocrite as anyone else.

The main themes of Candy are grief, for one, fear, for second, and the loss of innocence thirdly. All are present in the music and lyrics. But above all, there is the acceptance of fate. The narrator talks heavily about death as he sings, as right as he soliloquy is over, and he seems to have calmed a little, the moment of peace is swept away. It gives a voice to what some call “Southern sorrow”, which is a term given to the prevailing feeling of grief when soldiers returned home from the war, only to find their homes destroyed, and their families either dead or missing. It’s a human look at a part of the war not often considered but overlooked a lot of the time. Politics mean nothing in the face of destruction, the song is telling us.

When you think about it, there’s a lot that we can learn from this song. It tells us how war is terrible and all-consuming by lulling us to a peaceful state before tearing us out of it in dramatic climax that sears itself into your memory, leaving you in a sort of stunned daze, or, perhaps, blinded by tears. But it points at your heart and says, you can pick up a gun and march far away, but sooner or later you will find yourself staring down a man you call an enemy, and realize that he is a human all the same as you are.

[alice-angel12x]

💔Dainseif x Reader

a bit Houseki no Kuni crossover/ characters

It's been so long since the fall of Khaenri'ah, there isn't much I remember from those times. Most of which are small facts and details most likely lost to time. Though there is one precious thing or person I remember before the Gods' wrath fell upon the city, their name was Y/n. I remember their lovely smile, their warm embrace, the softness of their skin, and their melodious voice whispering sweet nothing into my ear.

Sadly they were taken from me in the destruction of Khaenri'ah. It was my duty as the Twilight Sword to protect the people of Khaenri'ah, to protect them, and I failed. A curse of long life was placed upon me as many of the people turned and transformed into monsters.

I fell into despair when the strange goddess from Celestia appeared before me. If I were to stop the rebellion from the abyss, she would return what I lost. At first, I had no idea what she could have meant, but I would learn soon. In desperation, I foolishly agreed to her wishes, looking back now I shouldn't have so stupidly agreed. The gods have never blessed me in the past, I should have never hoped they would in the future. After so long many details of Y/n have faded, and at times I wonder if they were just my imagination.  Yet I did meet strange people along my travels, one of them had grown dear to me.

---------

The last thing I remember is seeing a red sky with a strange goddess glaring down at everyone below. Red and black cubes floated about her. Some was calling out a name, Y/n I believe, then suddenly everything goes black as I was shoved to the ground. During that time of darkness, all I could feel was a strong will. I didn't want to perish and return too... I can no longer remember. Whenever I try to search my mind all I can find is a strange figure standing ahead of me, with its hand outstretched to me.

When I finally opened my eyes, I found myself surrounded by ruins that had long burned. Plants grew through the fissures in the destroyed stones, many skeletons were scattered along the ground. I felt strange for some reason, looking down at my arms, they sparkled in the sunlight. It shined a gleaming blue, it looked like Noctilucous Jade. My whole body seemed to be made of it; my legs, fingers, even my (Hair length) hair glimmered of the gem. Who am I?

I shakily got to my feet, as my body shined in the sun. The land ahead was a beautiful green as the leaves and trees swayed in the gentle wind. I was quite obviously alone, but why? Why was I so desperate for life? Maybe If I wander about I'll... Find my answer.

-------------

As I tracked the abyss, I came across a small group of the abyss mages. Who was occupied with corning some poor wanderer, raising my hand and unleashing my power made quick work of the horrid creatures. Something was off about this wanderer, so I approached cautiously. This being looked to be made of precious material, jade perhaps. Yet their form looked familiar to me, somehow.

A brief image of Y/n flashed in my mind. Yet I quickly shook my head, they are not the same. Everyone from Khaenri'ah

"umm, thank you, sir," They said as they slowly stood.

As looked them over, and noticed they wore greatly diminished garments of a Khaenri'ahen citizen. "Where did you get those clothes?" I asked.

"I don't know, I just woke up with these clothes," The being said as they looked down at their clothes.

"So wondered, why do you travel teyvat?" I asked them.

"I do not remember, I just remember not wanting to parish and return to someone. Yet I can't remember who?" they said with a confused look in their eyes. " Why do you travel?"

"That is not important," I said simply.

"So why do your eyes appear so sad?" They asked again.

"What do you mean?" I asked them.

"You seem lonely. Can I travel with you, just till I find my answer," They begged?

Staring at their sparkling face, I couldn't shake that feeling of familiarity. Still, if they really are a tiny few of Khaenri'ahen that survive, and didn't turn into monsters. I guess their companionship would be fine I suppose.

"If that is what you wish I won't stop you, but I will be following dangerous monsters. I will not always be able to protect you, so follow at your own risk," I warned them.

"Thank you, Mr... Umm,"

"Dainseif," I answered. ," And what of your name?"

"Mr.Dainseif," They smiled warmly

"I don't remember my name, I'm not sure if I have one," The being said.

"Hmm, well from now on your name is... Jade," Dainseif said.

"Well, my name is jade. Mr.Dainseif,"

--------------------------

It has been 500 years since the fall of Khaenri'ah.

I have been traveling with Jade for almost as long, even when they learned many things of me. Even when the abyss princess offered Jade the option to join her and her war on destiny, Jade always remained by my side.

"Why didn't you leave with Lumine, jade?" I asked them.

"I understand her, but I don't think the entire fall of Khaenri'ah is your fault. And I don't think you're a bad person, so you must be doing this for a good reason," Jade smiled.

"No, I'm doing this for a selfish reason. The gods of Celestia promised me, that if I take down the abyss, they would return Y/n to me," Dainseif said with a sad and bitter look on his face," I was foolish to accept, but I now know better to anger the gods."

"You must really love this Y/n. That so sweet," Jade smiled warmly.

"I think they would have agreed with you, but it's unlikely they would actually return them to me," I explained.

"Well, it wouldn't be godly of them if they don't uphold their own promise right?" Jade asked.

"I suppose, but who can say," I said as a sigh escaped my lips." I really do hope Y/n is waiting for me at the end of this journey."

"So it's off to mondstadt right?" Jade asked with an excited smile on their face.

"Yes,"

----------------

In mondstadt we met a very odd but familiar-looking traveler, he looked very similar to Lumine, but with longer hair and different clothing. With him a floating child accompanied him, they seemed to be interested in Mr.Dainsleif. Soon they accompanied us on the hunt for the abyss herald. Soon we found ourselves in wolvendom

"Stay here Jade, I'm going to look around for further clues. If danger comes around, just find me, or run to safety and I'll come and find you," Dainsleif said gently to me.

"Alright, be careful," I said with slight worry on my face.

Dainsleif nodded as he patted my head softly. As I waited for his return My mind tried to dig further into my hazier memories. She remembers running with someone pulling her past the destruction of Khaenri'ah. Yet I was pulled from my thoughts when the traveler and Paimon shortly arrived.

"Oh, where did Dain go?" Paimon asked.

"He went to investigate the area further," I answered." He'll be back soon."

" O-oh alright. Hey, Jade right? So how long have you been traveling with Dain?" Piamon asked.

"For as long as I can remember," I answered simply.

"What is Dain like, if I may ask?" aether asked.

"Well. When I first met him, he was quiet and hard to talk to since he mostly kept to himself," I said, as I thought back. " Though Know he is very caring in his own way, and he is very lonely behind his stoic face."

"Lonely? W-what makes you say that?" Paimon asked.

"Well, a long time ago he lost his lover. And at times, I think he projects them onto me," I said slowly.

"What do you mean?" Aether asked.

"Sometimes when he is in time of sorrow, he would hug and hold me close, and whisper sweet things to me, but the name he calls is Y/n," I said sadly." The next day he would ask me to forget about it."

"Wha that so sad, Paimon feels sorry for him," Painmon frowns.

"What about you? Why do you travel with him?" Aether asked.

"At first I simply followed in hopes to learn about myself, and why I am this way along my journey with Dainsleif. Maybe learn what I have forgotten, but know I follow Dainsleif to keep him company. I can learn about my origins after Dain finishes his journey." I smiled.

But before we could continue our conversation, abyss mages and hilicurls appeared. They surrounded us as they slowly closed in on us. Aether readied his sword, as I unsheathed my sword as well.

The fight was tough, I got scrapped and chipped along the way but we managed. It of now was an ice shard flew past and cracked a good chunk of my face. Half of my face was broken off, but thankfully traveler made quick work of the monster.

"Ahh! Jade are you okay?!" Paimon gasped.

"I'm fine, thou could you help look for my face?" I asked.

"Jade!" Dainsleif called out.

I slowly and nervously turned to face Dain. As I slowly opened my one eye and saw the sadness and worry in his eyes.

" What happened? I thought I told you to run away at the first sign of danger," Dainsleif said as he cupped my cheek and held me close.

" We were surrounded, there was no choice but to fight," I said to him.

"You need to be careful, you're too fragile," Dainsleif sighed as his fingers traced the cracks on my face. As I stared I could see he wasn't seeing me.

"I'm fine, I just need the left side of my face," I said as I looked away.

"Y/- Jade, please be careful," Dain stuttered as he looked away bashfully," I'm sorry."

--------

Soon the two groups parted ways as Aether and Paimon watched them leave.

"Wow, Dain must really miss this Y/n person if he mistakes two different people," Paimon sighed sadly.

"Something tells me there destiny and journey are more intertwined then they relieaze," Aether said veguly.

"What makes you say that?" Paimon asked.

"Aether is not wrong about that," Venti said as he suddenly appeared.

"AHHH! Tone deaf bard what are you doing here?!" Paimon gasped.

"I was around dragon spire for awhile. Those two have such a tragic story," Venti frowned sadly.

"What do you mean?" Paimon asked

"The princess the knight searches for has always been by his side, and the companion made of beautiful jade's answer had always been beside them," Venti said sadly as he strumd his lyre.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Thursday 23 April 1835

8 ¾

11 20

no kiss very fine morning - Sent off by George my letter written last night to ‘Mrs Chator Spennithorne near Bedale’ -  Had Dobson (joins with Ainsworth the joiner and timber merchant of Halifax at the quarry near the [Checker] in Southowram) - he agrees to deliver on the spot for the drift drain just above the fish pond rag tops not less than 5in. thick and 2ft. 4in. long and rag bottoms not less than 3in. thick 2ft. 4in. long at 11/11 per yard of drain i.e. 1 yards’ length of tops and bottoms - then breakfast at 9 ½ - Robert Schofield came for me at 10 1/2 - out with him - went up with him to Walker pit coal road where he and his man Joseph Sharpe had set a few wheel stones and mended up the road yesterday afternoon and this morning - set Robert S- and his man to dig course of drain from the dry bridge

SH:7/ML/E/18/0023

thro’ the embankment thrown up against it - then with John and Robert Mann at the drift drain just above the fish pond - looking about sitting railing round intended flower garden and planning about the water - and had Waddington from Hipperholme Lane ends who came to ask if I knew where Pickells was - W- had lost a thief who was said to be working for P- said I believed P- was working at Mr Holmes’s - long talk with W- about 1 thing or other Hipperholme school, politics etc - Mr Bradley had been at the house to see that the roof window that lights the passage to my aunt’s room etc was right done - had him at the fish pond, and dry bridge - planning to lower the fish pond and make the water to fill the whole of the hollow or basin in one continuous [sheet] -  B- said £30 would do it - came in at 1 ¾ - out with A- at 2 10 she rode the pony and I and George walked by the side to Hipperholme - called on Mr and Mrs Bateman - she very unwell and could not receive us - A- rode forwards to Cliff Hill and I left her and went in to ask Hardcastles for his vote for Wortley (John) not at home - his niece would tell H- he had said he would not promise it to anybody till he had seen me - then to Lower brea to ask GR- his vote - did not wish to vote at all - at last said he had promised not to vote against the yellows and I said I would not say a word to make him break his promise - but I regretted his having made such a promise - he said had he known I was particular about it, he would not have done it - I said I hoped he would give me a vote another time - longish talk about Manchester engineers - Lillie the best practical man - Fairborne was a draughtsman when they were in partnership - should have as little now as possible in my water wheel - the canker water soon perished the iron - no back water at Mytholm - the dam well done - altogether never was a better done job - heard I was going to build a corn-mill - hoped I should take care to make an agreement about the times that the corn mill and Mytholm mill should draw off the water or else there would be nothing but disturbances - then to Pump to ask John Oates for his vote - not at home - but the nurse that waited on his wife just brought to be of a daughter, would tell him - then up Pump Lane and by my upper Place stone quarry and Joseph Hall’s (the quarry is now 5ft. from the bottom of the stone promises well - some very good flags up) - to ask Thomas Hall for his vote - would rather not vote at all - did not say much but that any kindness I might ever have in my power, would of course be done for one of my own opinion - a nice turn up bed for  2 just finished price 3 guineas - his 4 cottages cost him altogether £300 let for £16 per annum - did not want to sell them - going to live in one of them - wanted to know if I would allow him something on this account - no! said it was his father who was tenant and I should let things remain as they were, probably, as long as he lived there if I built up the house, of course the place would be worth more - then called and asked if Mr. or Mrs. Hall (Samuel) was at home no! meant to try and buy the gin horse - returned by Pump Lane - called at Thomas Pearson’s to tell him to try and buy the gin for me - his wife said she would tell him - sometime with John and Robert Mann at the Drift drain - Dobson sent 2 loads of rag tops and bottoms - with the last load had our own 2 horses to help up the hill -  Charles and James H- in the morning finished the job at the passage window near my aunt’s room and in the afternoon guarding trees sycamores lately planted in John Oates’s field and in Pickells’ long field - dinner at 7 - coffee - had Dobson about stone posts - asked 2/4 a price for what I have had of Turner at 1/6 - but Dobson has nothing but good flag stuff to cut up - 1 post would take nearly 2 yards of flag worth 11d. per yard and holing would cost 5d. per post - told him I was satisfied he could not take the order - long talk about the upper Place land quarry - he thought I had had a good price bidden - perhaps 7/.per yard - agreed I should be right to let it in small allotments 300 yards would be quite enough to get in a year - I said I would have no allowance for Ruttle - did not object if the allotments were to be so small - he thought it would be bottomed in about a fortnight - by the 8th or 10th of May - if it was put up fairly there would be many bidders - I said I would let Freeman have it at 3d. per yard less than anybody - F- and Joshua Haigh of the great house (late Greenwood) in Southowram, and Thackeray of Northowram the 3 Kings of the stone merchants - Dobson owned the 2 posts I shewed him this morning were good stone - thought them like Freeman’s stone! F- himself said the moment he saw them he knew they were top of common wood stone - not good - D- wants me to have 2 or 3 quarries in Hall’s land and upper place land - said I was advised whatever I did, to let all be in one take - D- did not go till about 9 - from then to 10 35 (except near ½ hour with my aunt till 10 ¼ pm) wrote the whole of today - very fine day - F53 ½° now at 10 35 pm

[nobodyfamousposts]

BURN THE WITCH! Part 4

It took more time than it should have to lose the akuma and her followers. Partly because of the shoes and the disguise as a whole doing more to slow her down than it did to protect her. Mostly because of just how many people were currently after her—and wow, was it a lot!

But she had managed to not only escape with life and hair intact (despite the attempts of the damn hairnet), but also find a place to hide until the akuma was dealt with.

From what she had observed, the akuma’s effects were carried by hearing her speak from that scroll of hers. Almost immediately after spouting off something else from the “list”, anyone within earshot would join the increasing number of minions, even if they had just been trying to run away moments prior. It was like the akuma could incite anger in anyone…self-righteous anger, and all of it specifically targeted at Lila.

She was going to have words with Hawk Moth about this. If he had an akuma able to enthrall people like this, why hadn’t he given it to her? She could have made much better use of it than Rose, of all people. Now he had an akuma solely focused on revenge instead of the masterpiece Lila could have been. Honestly, she would have Ladybug and Chat Noir defeated by now!

As it was, Lila had to survive. And to do so, she had to make do with her own skills.

Fortunately, the akuma’s reach—while growing—was only as far as people could hear her. Which made the boat at the Seine a perfect place to hide out.

Especially since the old woman and her son living there were easily drawn in.

“It’ll be all right, lass. You’re safe here.” The woman said, reassuringly. “We’ll man the gunnery if any of those fools try anything. They can’t get to you here.”

“Thank you! I just…I just don’t know why this would happen.” Lila gave another well timed but ultimately fake sob into her hands.

“Don’t worry.” The guy—a teenager, and not a bad looking one, either—rested a hand on her shoulder. “Ladybug and Chat Noir will fix this soon enough.”

Lila forced herself to smile. “I hope they do.”

If only because this was the one akuma she didn’t want to see win. Otherwise, she would fully be cheering for their demise. Possibly with popcorn.

Assuming she wasn’t the one doing it herself, of course.

“Luka, keep an eye out in case someone followed her here.” The woman ordered.

“On it.” Luka, apparently, guided Lila to the couch to rest before he moved to another part of the room. The woman took a pair of binoculars to one of the windows, trying to peer through them to see further into the distance.

Lila sighed and was preparing to finally relax.

“Why is the akuma after you, anyway?” He asked while grabbing something from the corner.

To her credit, Lila did acknowledge that Marinette had at least tried to help her. And surely the girl who helps everyone would want to continue to be of use. Even if she wouldn’t necessarily like what Lila was currently using her for.

But in Lila’s defense, Marinette DID shove her in a closet.

“I was helping with a friend’s charity work and some money went missing. There was a huge fight over it today and one of my classmates tried to blame me for the loss.”

“That’s horrible.”

“I know!” Lila continued, hiding a smile. “Rose is kind, but she is so forgetful that she could have lost the money anywhere. Then Marinette took advantage of the opportunity to claim I did it.”

Luka paused at that. “What?”

Lila nodded, mournfully. “She’s been against me from the first day I started school.”

Technically true.

“She’s been bullying me, calling me names, trying to convince everyone I’m a liar.”

Also technically true.

“I’m sure she was happy to paint me as the villain today, and everyone believed her.” Lila proclaimed with a little sob. “Nobody would even listen to me! Then Rose got mad and became an akuma, and Marinette left me to perish!”

“That doesn’t sound like Marinette.”

Immediately, all thoughts halted as she realized her mistake.

These two knew Marinette.

Okay, no big deal. She can just spin it.

“That was what I thought, too. But she showed her true colors when I tried to make friends with her! I even offered to help her with her crush on Adrien. But she’s just so jealous.” Lila insisted, laying on the charm and tears. “She’s been telling everyone such horrible things about me.”

Luka’s frown only increased though.

“She hasn’t mentioned you to me.”

She shook her head. “Then I’m sorry, but it seems you don’t know her that well.”

“What are you talking about?” The mother demanded, confused and annoyed. “That girl comes over here all the time. She’s a wonderful girl and a wonderful friend to our daughter.”

Wait…daughter?

The boy narrowed his eyes at her in suspicion.

“Where was Juleka in all this, if what you’re saying is true?”

“She wasn’t there.” Lila said, thinking quickly. Better not to implicate their daughter or try to throw her under the bus if they were getting suspicious already. “I know if she had been, things could have worked out. She’s such a good friend, and would never think badly of me.”

But Luka only looked angrier. He held up a remote.

“Then why is she with the mob?”

Lila spun in surprise at the sudden blast of sound. It turned out that the thing he had grabbed before was the remote to the television. Which was on—if muted during Lila’s story-telling.

On the screen, the akuma was standing in front of the Eiffel Tower reading from her list. The video showed Witch Hunter and her followers in full detail. Including Juleka.

Juleka, whom Lila was now realizing had to be the daughter and sister of the two in the room with her.

“She’s been influenced by the akuma! It’s her power.” Lila explained hastily.

But Luka chose to ignore her in favor of unmuting the television, which showed the akuma speaking and reading more of Lila’s crimes from the list. The scroll almost seemed to glow momentarily before she started to read.

“This just in! The Witch just tried to turn two innocents against Marinette and even their own family member. She lied about the cause of the fight! And this is after she already tried to sacrifice Marinette to save her own skin!”

Both mother and son froze at that.

“WHAT?!”

And as if it couldn’t get worse for her, the news proceeded to play a video from earlier. One that Lila had not realized was being recorded at the time.

It showed in full detail the inopportune moment where Lila shoved Marinette out from behind their shared hiding space and attempted to direct the mob’s anger onto the clumsy girl.

Slowly. Slowly…they both turned on her, furious.

“It’s not what it looks like!” She tried to claim. “She was already part of the mob and I was trying to get away from her. I was in danger!”

The two glared at her, clearly not buying it.

It seemed Lila had made a miscalculation as to the limits of the akuma’s range of influence.

Or perhaps it was just that she hadn’t counted on her would-be rescuers being family to one of her classmates.

The woman glowered at her. Without even looking, she grabbed a sword off of the mantle and pointed it at Lila with a ferocity she hadn’t seen before. In that moment, she appeared every bit the pirate she had previously been pretending to be.

“Make her walk the plank!” She yelled.

“We don’t have a plank, mom.” Luka growled, seeming downright disappointed by the fact.

“Then throw her overboard!”

It seemed her sanctuary was short-lived.

_____________________

“Kettle corn! Ready-to-cook over a fire kettle corn!”

Marinette sighed. “Master, not you, too.”

The man cheerfully sold a container to a customer, completely disregarding the problem as well as Marinette’s presence.

“Master Fu, please! The akuma is influencing everyone! Even Tikki is affected! And if I don’t do something soon, they’re going to burn Lila at the stake!”

The man gave her a blank stare.

“And what part of that is supposed to be the problem?” He asked.

“See? He gets it!” Tikki chirped.

“Sometimes, Marinette, an infected bud must be pruned for other flowers to grow.” Fu stated calmly as he imparted his wisdom.

“But flowers aren’t people!”

“It’s a metaphor.”

“Flowers don’t scream when you prune them!” Marinette shouted.

Tikki floated up to her chosen, trying to calm her. “Marinette, sometimes an akuma can actually be a good thing! Remember Bubbler?”

Marinette just gave her a dry look. “You mean when you lectured me for stopping Chloe from kissing Adrien, said it was an abuse of my powers, and emphasized doing the right thing? Remember that? The right thing? The moral choice that involves NOT letting people die just because you don’t like them?”

“This girl has been an obstacle to you and an ally to Hawk Moth.” Fu pointed out. “Would it not be better to simply let her be removed?”

She moaned. Honestly, it annoyed her when Tikki or Fu lectured her and had to be the voice of reason and morals she was pushed to adhere to rather than the support she needed in the moment. But this wasn’t support. It was just life throwing more temptation at her by having two of the people whose moral compasses she trusted pushing her to not care!

Give her a break, life! She’s having a hard enough time as it is!

"No!” She insisted. “I need the Dragon miraculous to stop this akuma! So please, help me!" 

"Another time perhaps, now is the time for popcorn!"

Marinette glared, put off at the way Fu ignored her to sell another container of popcorn to a customer.

Might as well try to take advantage of the situation though. While Fu was distracted, Marinette attempted to reach around him for the gramophone.

Fu slapped her hand.

She grabbed her hand in surprise before looking at him with a pout.

Master Fu didn’t even react.

She growled.

“Okay, that’s it!”

Later, Marinette decided as she picked up one of the pans, she would let herself feel bad for this.

Much later.

[dredsina]

From my uncle Sam:

Ya’at'eeh FB friends and family.

I, along with my foster family and a coworker are taking donations to help my community on the Navajo reservation. My hope in this is to alleviate any hardships as a result of the Covid-19 pandemic. Below is what my foster brother generated to his fb and neighborhood for the Morgan, Ut area. Any support of requested items or in monetary value I am truly grateful. There are several drop off points established in Northern Utah, so if you’d like to join in and need an address to a drop off location, please let me know. However, if you’re out of the area and would like to support my effort, you may donate in any amount to my venmo @Sam-Curley-3 to purchase items. 'A’héhee'!

What my uncle Chad wrote:

You may have heard that the Navajo Nation has been hard-hit with the COVID-19 pandemic and groups have aided various communities on the reservation with essential items.

My foster brother, Sam Curley, a Native American from the Navajo Nation is collecting essential food/medical donations to help his people in his homeland community of Tohaali/Two Grey Hills, NM.

For the next couple of weeks (by June 20), we are collecting items at our home to support his efforts. We’d love your support and any items that you can spare. Please feel free to drop off any items on our front porch. THANK YOU SO MUCH.

Non-perishable items requested items by the local officials are as follows

Canned goods, dry goods, medical/hygiene kits

Bottled water, Gatorade, 64 oz. Fruit drinks (i.e.., cranberry, grape, apple, etc., preferable no sugar added)

Canned meat (Vienna sausage, corn beef, low sodium Spam, Chicken Breast, Tuna, pork & beans)

Canned soups (any, chili con-carne)

Canned (Veggies and Fruit)

Oatmeal, Cream of Wheat, Rice, Pinto Beans

Flour, Baking Powder, Salt, Cooking Oil

Evaporated milk, powder milk, granulated sugar

Pasta (any, including mac/cheese), top ramen

Canned (cream of celery, mushroom, chicken)

Fruit/nut bars, dry fruit (raisins or apricot), peanut butter/jam preserves

Applesauce, breakfast cereals (cornflakes, cheerios, Wheaties, etc.,)

ground Folgers reg. coffee, black or herbal tea

Clorox/bleach, sanitizing wipes, hand sanitizers, Lysol spray, masks, toilet tissue

(This donation is not affiliated with other service groups and with the Navajo Nation. It is a grassroots community effort.)

Since likely none of you are friends with either of my uncles on Facebook, let me know if you want to donate and I can get you in contact with them. They have this going on Facebook, but I thought it might help to get it going on another platform, too. My uncle Sam whose venmo is listed is Native American & from the Navajo Nation and has lots of family currently living there.

[charlemange1]

The Last True Man- chapter 1/11

A crossover of Mary Shelley’s novels Frankenstein and The Last Man. Because TLM is an awesome pandemic novel and deserves more love!

Summary: A deadly plague has left Lionel Verney miserable as the last man on earth. Then he discovers a flier warning of an 8ft monster and decides to hunt the creature and reclaim the dominion mankind once held. But can he truly call himself the last man while abandoning everything that made humans human?

“I wandered lonely as a cloud,

That floats on high o'er vales and hills…”

--William Wordsworth

Ice had brought the once-great fountains of Rome to a standstill. A dusting of fresh snow cloaked the quiet streets in a white blanket, disturbed only by the hoof prints of horses picking their way past the overturned coaches that had once restrained them. Off the street, the towering doors of St. Peter's Basilica stood ajar to welcome the white flakes that blew in tiny circles across the cracked tile. I saw little reason to shut the dancing flecks out—today was a celebration!

“To a new year!” My voice echoed off the marble saint statues as I raised a crystal glass to the golden ceiling. Nearly tripping over my embroidered cloak, I ran across the cleared church to where my sweet Idris was shooing little Evelyn away from a flask of Rome’s finest wine.

“Idris, I fear we’ve raised a thief!” I chuckled, pushing the drink away from my son’s stubby fingers. I ruffled his hair and the curls tickled my palm. “Did Alfred put you up to this?”

I held my laughter as my other son’s head disappeared behind the towering statue of Saint Longinus. “Careful now, that monument was designed by mankind’s greatest minds!”

Taking Idris by the hand, we danced around the splotches of winter sun on the decorative tiles. Just as we’d done at Windsor Castle before evacuees fleeing the plague had crowded the rooms. I forced the image of their jutting ribs and dull eyes from my mind.

“And you’ll be baking mince pie this year, of course!” I forced a smile. “It is tradition after all! Clara loves them. Adrian too!” I guided Idris across the tile to where Adrian sat in a prince’s gown embedded with emeralds, laughing with my sister Perdita. Her eyes—once dulled from grief—had brightened. She adored the ruffly pink dress I had found for her. They all did. For my family, I would scour every continent if it brought a smile to their blue lips.

My head lifted to the ceiling in ecstasy. The golden walls and paintings blended in a whirlwind. We swung faster and faster, my laughter floating to the rafters to make up for the other's silence. I laughed and laughed.

And laughed.

My knees hit the tile and Idris clanged beside me before rolling into the shadows. The remaining suits and dresses I had hung on wireframes loomed above me. Never to be worn by man or woman or son or wife or friend again. The laugher turned to sobs.

“To 2100—the last year of the world!”

The candlelight gave the saint’s chiseled faces an imitation of life. It was too much, and my palms pressed against the lakes forming in each eye. A low whine came from my left as a warm tongue licked the frozen tears from my cheeks. My hands fumbled around until locating the shaggy fur and pulling the dog close.

“What are we to do, Bysshe?” I sobbed into the sheepdog’s warm pelt. “No one has entered Rome. None will ever come. I thought the knowledge stored here would sustain me as it did when Adrian introduced me to the finer aspects of society, but what use is studying the history of a dead race? Why walk through streets crowded with sculptures and theaters reduced to sheltering wild beasts?” I glared at the wireframe dressed in a prince’s clothing.

“Adrian, why did you pluck me from a life of savageness and show me what living could be only to die and leave me alone? Why couldn’t I have perished as a stubborn loner in the countryside instead of wandering through these marble and gold skeletons of humanity?”

The Adrian-frame remained silent. Bysshe whined again, and my voice softened. “No, you’re right, Bysshe. 'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.' I cherish the memories of those far more deserving of life than I.”

But memories were all they were. I thought of Adrian extending his hand to me on our first meeting. I had been crouching bloodied and wounded against an oak—a feral animal sustained by spite. He had looked past my hatred with the faith I could be saved from myself. Suddenly my patheticness dawned on me. This display of misery would achieve nothing. Adrian never stopped believing in the good of humanity. As the final remnant of our species, that legacy lived on through me alone.

“Bysshe, we’re leaving.” Standing, my gaze swept over the empty evening gowns and suits I’d so carefully positioned around the church. I turned toward the entrance. Purpose made each step firm on the tile, sending a strong clack through the halls.

“Fate has spared me alone, so I shall live.”

*

The preparations for my exodus were swift. I found a rowboat in decent shape tethered to the docks and a surplus of Indian corn stockpiled behind the stage of a dark theater. The gnawed bones of the ill-fated owner gave no complaint as I hauled the jars away.

Having secured transportation and food, I entered the library for more relics. The titles told me what was fiction, history, and societal critiques, but what did the written word mean to the termite seeking a meal? Though the libraries of the world were thrown open to me, I could not leave Rome’s archives to nature’s destruction. They were the sole link connecting me to the recollections of my ill-fated species. I stuffed my satchel until the flap couldn’t be fastened and departed.

Outside, Bysshe abandoned a squirrel he had cornered up an overgrown pine and joined me for a final pass down the empty streets. We reached the docks in good time, where a large fishery towered above us. It was likely visible for miles on the open sea. Something twisted within me. Placing my satchel beside Bysshe, I ordered him to stay and rushed back into the city.

*

The small rowboat bobbed in the waves. My final moments in Rome had been rash. Childish, even. Yet some part of me still clung fervently to hope. My painted message in every language I could cram on the fishery’s wall faded as we drifted into unknown waters.

Survivor!

You are not alone!

Sail south along the coast, and you shall find the tiny bark,

freighted with Lionel Verney—the LAST MAN.

[trinityhousekeeper]

Trinity HouseKeepers is ready to set sail for our 1st Annual Community Outreach! ⚓️🎄🦃 Join us in spreading some holiday cheer by donating non-perishable items or a new toy to support those in need. As a thank you for your generosity, you’ll receive a $20 discount on your next cleaning service with Trinity HouseKeepers! Here’s how to join the fun: 1. Choose from our list of non-perishable items or pick a new toy you’d love to donate. 2. On the day of your scheduled cleaning, leave your donations out for our crew to collect. 3. Enjoy your $20 discount on your current or next cleaning service! Suggested Non-Perishable Items: - Canned goods: green beans, corn, cranberry sauce, canned yams - Pasta, rice, instant mashed potatoes, boxed stuffing, cornbread mix - Canned chicken, turkey, peanut butter - Boxed meals Your kindness makes a difference! Thank you for helping us make this holiday season brighter for our community. 🌟❤️ Anchors Away, Cherise Dumas Trinity HouseKeepers ⚓️ #TrinityHouseKeepers #CommunityOutreach #CaptainFlamingo #HolidayGiving #MakeADifference

[reptile-room]

Hello! I’ve been very interested in adopting a corn snake and I was wondering if you could point me in the right direction of things they’ll need? I don’t trust petsmart with care instructions gdhhfdhf. How big should the enclosure be? What temperature should it be? What should their diet be like? What kind of enrichment would be best? Are they okay with being handled? Thank you so much! I appreciate it.

Unfortunately, we currently don't own any corn snakes of our own just yet, though I have heard wonderful things about the species from those who do! So I do apologize in advance for the limited info that I can personally provide.

With that said, I have very basic google knowledge of corn snake care - that being: they don't need a whole lot of humidity (compared to a Ball Python) so you can use Aspen and not worry much about humidity, and they get relatively long as adults and are quite active, so they require a good amount of space in their enclosure.

If anyone who owns a corn snake would like to share what they know about caring for the species, It would be greatly appreciated!

Petsmart or any chain pet stores generally aren't a good place to get reptiles (for anyone who doesn't know why, reptile mills also exist and that's where most chain pet stores get their "supply" from), so I understand why you'd want to avoid that route if at all possible.

Your best bet would be to buy a corn snake through individual breeders either via MorphMarket.com or from an event such as FIRExpo or Repticon (there are others and they all have online calendars to see if/when you have any in your area). Unless you have a local reptile rescue in your area, or even a local shelter that takes in reptiles, you can also check there to see if they have any corn snakes you can adopt rather than buy.

Any specific breeders or rescues you have an interest in - do your research on their personal name and breeding business if they have one (there is a facebook group called, word for word, "FBI - Feedback and Inquiries for breeders who lie and cheap ass people" that you can also join and try searching to make sure who you have in mind doesn't have a bad rep for any serious reason) because people do get scammed and/or recieve unhealthy reptiles quite frequently. Keep in mind that the group doesn't have every bad breeder or scammer, so you may have to do extra searching for information.

If you worry about buying your snake from out of state and having it shipped, as long as you buy from a "reputable" breeder, all you have to worry about is the carrier they come by. Properly shipped reptiles are usually sent overnight in boxes visibly marked as "perishable" and/or "live animal" and/or "harmless reptile" and are packed usually with foam boards to keep them in place so they don't slide/tumble around during transit. We received one of our snakes via FedEx, she took a trip from Illinois to here in Florida and was at most slightly stressed from the ordeal for a day.

Do keep researching, either by continuing to ask around here on reptiblr and/or by googling different sources of info as well, not just on corn snakes but possible breeders too ^^ also, check back on this ask every now and then to see if anyone else adds their own experience on caring for corn snakes

I wish you the best of luck, snakes are really neat creatures ☆

[a-safe-and-quiet-place]

Myrmecoleon

General Attributes

There are two interpretations of what an ant-lion is. In one version, the ant-lion is so called because it is the "lion of ants," a large ant or small animal that hides in the dust and kills ants. In the other version, it is a beast that is the result of a mating between a lion and an ant. It has the face of a lion and and the body of an ant, with each part having its appropriate nature. Because the lion part will only eat meat and the ant part can only digest grain, the ant-lion starves.

The ant-lion story may come from a mistranslation of a word in the Septuagint version of the biblical Old Testament, from the book of Job (4:11). The word in Hebrew is lajisch, an uncommon word for lion, which in other translations of Job is rendered as either lion or tiger; in the Spetuagint it is translated as mermecolion, ant-lion.

Sources (chronological order)

Gregory the Great 

[6th-7th century CE] (Moralia in Iob, Book V, chapter 20, section 40): But in the translation of the seventy interpreters it does not say "the tiger" but "the ant-lion perished because it had no prey." The ant-lion is a very small animal, enemy of the ant, which hides itself under the sand and kills ants carrying bits of grain, and then eats the ants. Ant-lion is said in Latin to be either "lion of ants" or at least, more precisely, "both ant and lion." It is rightly said to be both ant and lion, because by comparison to flying things, or to other small animals, it is an ant, but to the ants it is a lion. It devours them like a lion, but it is devoured by the other animals like an ant. When therefore Eliphaz says, "The ant-lion perished," what is he attacking in blessed Job under this name if not both fear and boldness? As if to say openly: 'You have not been struck unjustly, because you are timid against the strong, but bold against the weak.' As if to say openly: 'Against the clever, fear restrained you, but against the simple, cockiness puffed you up. But the ant-lion does not have its prey because your timid pride is beset by blows and kept from wounding others.' But because we said the friends of blessed Job stood for heretics, it is important for us to say how these words of Eliphaz can be interpreted allegorically. ... (Section 43): This beast spotted with such diversity is rightly called a tiger, though called by the seventy interpreters as we said before, an ant-lion. That animal hides in the dust, as we said, to kill ants carrying bits of grain. So also the apostate angel, cast down on earth from heaven, ambushes the minds of the just as they prepare for themselves nourishment on the path leading to good works. And when he defeats them from ambush, he is like an ant-lion unexpectedly killing ants bearing grain. But he is rightly called an ant-lion, that is lion-and-ant: for he is a lion to the ants, but to the birds a mere ant, because to those who yield to him the ancient enemy is strong, but to those who resist him he is feeble. If his suggestions find assent, he is as unstoppable as the lion; but if they are resisted, he is stepped on like an ant. To some therefore he is a lion, to others an ant. Minds devoted to the flesh can scarcely endure his cruelty, while spiritual minds step on his weakness with the foot of virtue. So heretics, because they take pride in their presumed holiness, say as if rejoicing, "The ant-lion," or at least, "The tiger perished, because he had no prey." As if to say openly: 'The old adversary does not have prey in us because for our purposes he already lies beaten.' So he is mentioned again with the name of ant-lion or tiger because he had already been said to be trampled on in the roar of the lion: for whatever is said out of joy is often repeated. (translation by James J. O'Donnell)

Isidore of Seville 

[7th century CE] (Etymologies, Book 12, 3:10): The ant-lion is so called either because it is equally lion and ant, or because it is the lion of ants. It is a small animal that is hostile to ants; it hides in the sand and kills other ants that are carrying grain. In this way it is like a lion to ants though it is like an ant to other animals.

Philip de Thaun

[c. 1121 CE] (Bestiaire) Under the heading "Est formicaleon invisum animal formicis" ( Druce translation): There is another beast - which of ants is chief / It is the ant-lion - that is its name. / Among ants it is the lion - and so it gets its name. / It is a little beast - it hides in the dust. / In the path the ant goes - it does it deadly harm.

Vincent of Beauvais 

[c. 1190 - 1264] (Speculum Naturale) (from Druce): The ant-lion, so-called because it is the lion of the ants, is a worm of the family of the ants, but much larger. So long as it is small and weak, it assumes a weak and peaceful air. But when it has grown strong it disdains its former associates and joins up with a crowd of bigger ants. And so increasing in daring, it conceals itself and lies in wait for the ants which are working for their own common good; so it is that this creature which in summer time has laid up no store of provisions for itself, snatches in winter from the others the fruit of their labors and destroys them.

Guillaume le Clerc

[13th century] (Bestiaire) ( Druce translation): There is still another ant, / Not of those which I have told you, / Which has the name ant-lion. / Of the ants this is the lion, / It is the smallest of all, / The boldest and wisest. / Other ants it hates bitterly; / In the dust quite deftly / It hides; so clever it is. / When the others come laden, / It jumps out of the dust upon them, / It attacks and kills them.

Cambridge University Library MS Gg. 6.5

[15th century] ( Druce translation): The Ant-lion has got its name from "ant" and "lion", as Isidore says in his 12th Book (of the Etymology) it is both ant and lion. It is a little animal very dangerous to ants, for entering into their granaries by stealth, it consumes the corn of the ants; and so, by abstracting their victuals, is the cause whereby the simple-minded ants come to their death through hunger. But by other animals it is devoured as an ant, nor is it able to protect itself by its own strength. And it is a kind of spider -see under "Spider". The same is called mirmicaleon, a kind of animal, a foe to ants, because it kills and eats them, etc.' ... [under the entry for "spider”]: 'There is another kind of spider by name "mirmicaleon" or "mirmiceon", which is also called by the name "formicaleon". It is like an ant with a white head, and it has a black body, marked with white spots. And the bite of this creature is as painful as that of wasps. And it is called ant-lion because it hunts ants like a lion and sucks out the juices from their bodies, but it is devoured by sparrows and other birds just as an ant.

[introvert-satan]

How To Pick New Fresh Vegetable (Easy Guide)

like selecting the satisfactory fruit, being able to select the most up to date and tastiest veggies is a combination of seasonal understanding, asking farmers and shop owners for recommendation, and the use of your senses. This manual has the last component protected. Get geared up to apply your eyes, nose, and palms!

Factors to consider before buying veggies

• artichokes: choose globes that have tight leaves and experience heavy for their size. The leaves ought to squeak whilst pressed in opposition to each different.

• asparagus: choose firm, smooth, and brightly-coloured stalks with compact guidelines. Keep away from limp stalks. Pick stalks of equal thickness to ensure even cooking instances.

• avocados: pick out avocados that sense slightly tender to touch. Firmer avocados can be ripened at domestic, however keep away from rock-difficult ones. Additionally avoid avocados with cracks or dents.

• beets: choose company beets with sparkling stems and slim taproots. Avoid beets with wilted leaves, scaly tops, or large, hairy taproots as they'll be older and extra woody. Kitchn cooking college is in session! Join up any time to acquire 20 instructions each day that will help you on the journey of becoming the prepare dinner you have continually wanted to be. All of it starts the monday once you join up, so be in search of your first lesson! E mail cope with phrases of use and privateness policy • bok choy: for mature bok choy, search for dark inexperienced leaves and bright white stalks. Child bok choy should be mild green in color.

• broccoli: select broccoli with firm stalks, tight florets, and crisp inexperienced leaves. Keep away from yellowed or flowering florets.

• brussels sprouts: pick firm, compact, vibrant green heads. Avoid sprouts with wilted or free outer leaves.

• cabbages: select firm, compact heads that sense heavy for his or her size. Check that the stems also are fresh and compact.

• carrots: select firm, clean carrots with out rootlets.

• cauliflower: choose heads with tightly packed, creamy white florets. Avoid yellowed, spotted, or flowering florets.

• celery: choose firm, unblemished stalks. The stalks and leaves should be green, not yellow.

• celery root: select firm, tough roots that experience heavy for his or her length. Any attached leaves have to be sparkling and green.

• corn: pick corn with vibrant green husks and moist however not slimy silk. Peel lower back the husk to make sure the kernels are plump and now not dry.

• cucumbers: pick out cucumbers which can be uniformly green (no longer yellow).

• eggplants: pick eggplants that have smooth, obviously vibrant pores and skin and experience heavy for his or her size. While lightly pressed, flesh that gives slightly and then bounces again suggests ripeness. Unripe flesh will now not provide, while overripe flesh will continue to be indented. Also, smaller eggplants generally tend to have fewer seeds and be much less bitter.

• fennel: choose fennel with white, company, unblemished bulbs as well as company stems and fresh leaves.

• garlic: choose firm, plump heads. Keep away from heads with soft spots or inexperienced sprouts.

• green beans: pick out slim beans that snap as opposed to bend. Keep away from bulging or dried pods.

• jerusalem artichokes: pick out smooth, company tubers. Keep away from those with green spots or sprouts.

• kale: choose crisp, deeply-coloured leaves. Avoid yellowed leaves. Smaller leaves have a tendency to be extra soft.

• leeks: choose firm leeks with tightly-rolled tops. Narrow leeks tend to be younger and more gentle, while larger ones with rounded bulbs have a tendency to be older and greater woody.

• lettuce, spinach, and different leafy vegetables: pick out vegetables with sparkling, crisp leaves. Avoid any which are wilted or slimy.

• onions and shallots: choose dry, company bulbs that feel heavy for his or her length. Avoid any with gentle spots or green sprouts.

• parsnips: pick out firm, ivory-colored roots. Massive roots may be fibrous, so select small and medium ones for higher texture and flavor.

• peas: pick out crisp, green pods. Keep away from bulging, dried, yellow, or white pods.

• peppers: choose firm, obviously vivid peppers that sense heavy for his or her length.

• potatoes: choose firm, easy potatoes. Keep away from people with bruises, inexperienced spots, or sprouts.

• radishes: pick radishes with sparkling, inexperienced tops and firm, unblemished roots.

• rhubarb: choose company crimson or crimson stalks. Green stalks tend to be stringy and bitter.

• rutabagas: pick rutabagas that experience company and heavy for his or her length. Avoid any with holes or bruises.

• scallions: choose scallions with crisp, green tops and firm, white bulbs. Avoid wilted or browned scallions.

• summer squash: pick squash with obviously bright, taught, unblemished pores and skin. Avoid squash that seem stupid or have smooth spots.

• sweet potatoes and yams: pick potatoes with firm, unwrinkled skins and no bruises or cuts, as they're noticeably perishable.

• swiss chard: choose chard with crisp stalks and vivid, vibrant, unwilted leaves.

• tomatillos: pick inexperienced tomatillos with inexperienced husks. Avoid yellow fruits with brown husks.

• tomatoes: pick out tomatoes which can be fragrant, odor earthy at the stem give up, and sense heavy for their length. Avoid tomatoes with wrinkled skins.

• turnips: pick turnips that experience firm and heavy for his or her length. Smaller turnips have a tendency to be sweeter and greater smooth than larger ones, which can be woody.

• wintry weather squash: choose squash which have stems intact and feel heavy for his or her length. Keep away from squash with cuts or tender spots. Do you've got some other pointers to proportion?

[magistralucis]

fallen log, sweet, vodka and cuckoo clock, please!

fallen log: something you’ve gotten over that you never thought you would

This is more of a present-tense ongoing development, but my anxiety issues. Ever since I received CBT I have a better attitude towards managing it, and I’ve slowly stepped up to doing things I didn’t think I was physically capable of before. It’s going to be a lifelong management, probably… but not one that’s beyond recovery, I was very happy indeed to find out! 💖

sweet: what candies or cakes are you fond of?

I have a terrible sweet tooth which you know (😂) but recently I’ve been thinking really hard about those again:

These are Delimanjoo, which I’m not sure I’ve talked about before. They’re corn-shaped tiny cakes absolutely chock filled to the brim with a hot, sweet custard, and they’re a common street/service station food. They’re nothing special in Korea, but I go absolutely nuts for these and I can’t recreate them here - like a lot of street breads in Korea, it’s one of those ‘you literally need a perpetual source of fire, an industrial-size amount of batter, and steel pans manufactured specifically for this purpose’ foods. So it joins the ranks of egg bread, carp bread/taiyaki, walnut cake, and all those sweet delights of Korean nightlife that I will never get back. I miss them terribly. They were good hot or cold and you got so many in a piping-hot paper bag, their steam rising in the night air, filling me up very nicely while I ran to my after-school academies.

LOOK AT IT. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

vodka: do you drink?

I do and can, but I think recently it has become more obvious that I shouldn’t. Aside from PCOS they also found some traits in my liver which, while not caused at all by drinking, may significantly worsen if I do. I’ve always known I did not win the genetic lottery on this front because I suffer from alcohol flush syndrome, but I think I’ll have to reconsider even the tiny amounts of alcohol I do drink now and then. Unless it’s for special occasions or reasons of hospitality (😉) I’ll have to stick to non-alcoholic drinks for the time being…

That said, I do love elderflower-flavoured anything, Midori (I love melon), creme de cacao, brandy, rum, and of course my Christmas Snowballs.

(My liver will not perish immediately upon drinking. They just recommended I never make alcohol too much of a habit, and very-occasional drinking like the types mentioned above should be fine. Please do not worry

cuckoo clock: are you a morning, a noon, or an evening person?

I am a very early morning person, and rather bizarrely, against my will. I cannot seem to stop waking up around 4am-5am, and I remain awake and alert long enough I can’t simply fall back asleep. I don’t nap afterwards, either. I remain just… very awake, even if I don’t necessarily want to be.

And then I’ll occasionally just pass out for 10-12hrs of sleep without warning. It’s very weird ._.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Thursday 23 April 1835: SH:7/ML/E/18/0022

8 ¾

11 20

No kiss. very fine morning - Sent off by George my letter written last night to ‘Mrs Chator Spennithorne near Bedale’ -  Had Dobson (joins with Ainsworth the joiner and timber merchant of Halifax at the quarry near the [Checker] in Southowram) - he agrees to deliver on the spot for the drift drain just above the fish pond rag tops not less than 5inch thick and 2ft 4inch long and rag bottoms not less than 3inch thick 2ft 4inch long at 11/11 per yard of drain i.e. 1 yards’ length of tops and bottoms - then breakfast at 9 ½ - Robert Schofield came for me at 10 1/2 - out with him - went up with him to Walker pit coal road where he and his man Joseph Sharpe had set a few wheel stones and mended up the road yesterday afternoon and this morning - set Robert S- and his man to dig course of drain from the dry bridge

SH:7/ML/E/18/0023

thro’ the embankment thrown up against it - then with John and Robert Mann at the drift drain just above the fish pond - looking about sitting railing round intended flower garden and planning about the water - and had Waddington from Hipperholme Lane ends who came to ask if I knew where Pickells was - W- had lost a thief who was said to be working for P- said I believed P- was working at Mr Holmes’s - long talk with W- about 1 thing or other Hipperholme school, politics etc - Mr Bradley had been at the house to see that the roof window that lights the passage to my aunt’s room etc was right done - had him at the fish pond, and dry bridge - planning to lower the fish pond and make the water to fill the whole of the hollow or basin in one continuous [sheet] -  B- said £30 would do it - Came in at 1 ¾ - out with A- at 2 10 she rode the pony and I and George walked by the side to Hipperholme - called on Mr and Mrs Bateman - she very unwell and could not receive us - A- rode forwards to Cliff Hill and I left her and went in to ask Hardcastles for his vote for Wortley (John) not at home - his niece would tell H- he had said he would not promise it to anybody till he had seen me - then to Lower brea to ask GR- his vote - did not wish to vote at all - at last said he had promised not to vote against the yellows and I said I would not say a word to make him break his promise - but I regretted his having made such a promise - he said had he known I was particular about it, he would not have done it - I said I hoped he would give me a vote another time - longish talk about Manchester engineers - Lillie the best practical man - Fairborne was a draughtsman when they were in partnership - should have as little now as possible in my water wheel - the canker water soon perished the iron - no back water at Mytholm - the dam well done - altogether never was a better done job - heard I was going to build a corn-mill - hoped I should take care to make an agreement about the times that the corn mill and Mytholm mill should draw off the water or else there would be nothing but disturbances - then to Pump to ask John Oates for his vote - not at home - but the nurse that waited on his wife just brought to be of a daughter, would tell him - then up Pump Lane and by my upper Place stone quarry and Joseph Hall’s (the quarry is now 5ft. from the bottom of the stone promises well - some very good flags up) - to ask Thomas Hall for his vote - would rather not vote at all - did not say much but that any kindness I might ever have in my power, would of course be done for one of my own opinion - a nice turn up bed for  2 just finished price 3 guineas - his 4 cottages cost him altogether £300 let for £16 per annum - did not want to sell them - going to live in one of them - wanted to know if I would allow him something on this account - no! said it was his father who was tenant and I should let things remain as they were, probably, as long as he lived there if I built up the house, of course the place would be worth more - then called and asked if Mr. or Mrs. Hall (Samuel) was at home no! meant to try and buy the gin horse - returned by Pump Lane -called at Thomas Pearson’s to tell him to try and buy the gin for me - his wife said she would tell him - sometime with John and Robert Mann at the Drift drain - Dobson sent 2 loads of rag tops and bottoms - with the last load had our own 2 horses to help up the hill -  Charles and James H- in the morning finished the job at the passage window near my aunt’s room and in the afternoon guarding trees sycamores lately planted in John Oates’s field and in Pickells’ long field - dinner at 7 - coffee - had Dobson about stone posts - asked 2/4 a price for what I have had of Turner at 1/6 - but Dobson has nothing but good flag stuff to cut up - 1 post would take nearly 2 yards of flag worth 11d per yard and holing would cost 5d per post - told him I was satisfied he could not take the order - long talk about the upper Place land quarry - he thought I had had a good price bidden - perhaps 7/.per yard - agreed I should be right to let it in small allotments 300 yards would be quite enough to get in a year - I said I would have no allowance for Ruttle - did not object if the allotments were to be so small - he thought it would be bottomed in about a fortnight - by the 8th or 10th of May - if it was put up fairly there would be many bidders - I said I would let Freeman have it at 3d. per yard less than anybody - F- and Joshua Haigh of the great house (late Greenwood) in Southowram, and Thackeray of Northowram the 3 Kings of the stone merchants - Dobson owned the 2 posts I shewed him this morning were good stone - thought them like Freeman’s stone! F- himself said the moment he saw them he knew they were top of common wood stone - not good - D- wants me to have 2 or 3 quarries in Hall’s land and upper place land - said I was advised whatever I did, to let all be in one take - D- did not go till about 9 - from then to 10 35 (except near ½ hour with my aunt till 10 ¼ pm) wrote the whole of today - very fine day - F53 ½° now at 10 35 pm