#Mississippi mills

[lindaseccaspina]

More Mysteries About Ginseng

GINSENG In the early 1900s Walter J Robinson conceived the idea of growing ginseng under cultivation. After an exhaustive examination into the project he became convinced the Lanark County, Ontario soil and climate would be ideal for the growing of Ginseng as wild Ginseng had already been found throughout the many forests of Lanark County. Did you know that Ginseng has a special place in the…

[artisthomes]

R. Tait McKenzie's summer home in Mississippi Mills, Ontario, Canada

[aiiaiiiyo]

[clairity-org]

Gold Medal Flour, Minneapolis 6/27/23 by Sharon Mollerus

[tejedac]

Les harmonies vintage · Playlist

Cab Calloway & his Orchestra · Ted Lewis · Scott Joplin ·The Ink Spots · Muggsy Spanier · Sister Rosetta Tharpe · Jelly Roll Morton · Rose Murphy · Leo Monosson · Kid Ory · Vera Lynn · Comedian Harmonist · Al Bowlly · Mezz Mezzrow · Carroll Gibbons · Elizabeth Cotten · Barnabas von Geczy · The Mills Brothers · The Firehouse Five Plus Two · Mississippi Sheiks · Sippie Wallace · Walter Barnes & his Royal Creolians · Cannon's Jug Stompers · Savannah Churchill · Frank Stokes · The Andrews Sisters · Bunny Berigan · Blind Boy Fuller · Gus Viseur · Barbecue Bob · Harry Roy and his Bat Club Boys · Robert Wilkins · Marek Weber · Tino Rossi · Django Reinhardt · Coleman Hawkins · Red Nichols · Tiny Parham · Mamie Smith her Jazz Hounds · Paul Specht · Ma Rainey · Robert Pete Williams · Sam Morgan's Jazz Band · Bernie Moten · King Oliver's Creole Jazz Band · Sam Lanin and his Orchestra · Tony Murena · Original Dixieland Jazz Band · Helen Kane · Ray Ventura · etc,

[void-critters]

♪♫♪

[uniqueartisanconnoisseur]

Mother's Day Gift Ideas

It will soon be that time, to honor mom. The first proclamation of Mother’s Day in 1870 was by Julia Howe. She asked women everywhere to join for world peace. What are your Mother’s Day Plans? Are you planning a trip? Do you want dinner out, or are you just looking for that perfect gift? Everyone celebrates in different ways, but here are a few ideas to help out along the way. A hike, or patio…

[waste-it-on-something-useful]

Harmonica player Hayward Mills in Mississippi Blues (Bertrand Tavernier & Robert Parrish, 1983)

A low-res version of the clip: www.youtube.com/watch?v=3kczReBcfaQ&ab_channel=RawBluesTV

[banamine-bananime]

Growing up I lived in an area with a lot of cattle farming and I was very scared of the cows. Do you have any cool facts that will make me either more or less afraid of cows?

oh hmm let me think on that!

facts related to how to interact with cows so all parties feel and stay safe:

they have a very prey herd animal mentality. they want to move with their herdmates. they want to watch any potential threats like people and move away from them. they don't like loud or unfamiliar noises (they're sensitive souls. sometimes if i visit a dairy wearing waterproof coveralls where the cows are only used to people wearing cotton coveralls, just the whisper of waterproof pants rubbing against each other can spook them) or abrupt movements or going into areas they can't see well (and they have difficulty with depth perception due to their wide-set eyes for 300 degree vision, and with high-contrast, so going from sun into shade or vice versa can look like stepping into a white or black void for them and they don't like it)

based on this, we know the keys to low-stress cattle handling are consistency in how you interact with them, calmness (small movements, quiet words to let them know you're there), moving cows in groups big enough to have friends but small enough you can control the whole group without them milling around or the ones in front stopping and causing a traffic jam, and slowly moving them by just barely getting in their "bubble" of "whoa, you're a little too close for comfort, i'm going to move in the other direction" without ever getting into their "YIKES RUN AWAY FROM THIS THING" bubble

the last point involves understanding pressure and flight zones and point of balance:

from Mississippi State University Extension:

from grandin.com (highly recommend as a source of information about animal behaviour and welfare!!! temple grandin my idol since i was like nine i love her so. and i tear up when i think about how much she's done for millions of animals ;_; she's a genius and no lie revolutionized low-stress handling):

pet cows that get doted on enough to bond with people may not see people as a threat so the normal ways we use pressure zones to iinteract with cows don't necessarily do anything for them. you would lead them more like a horse, using a halter. or lure them with treats.

beef cows typically have little contact with people, often just processing (vaccines, preg checks, quick exam for any health problems) a couple times a year, so they can be very wild. doesn't mean they're aggressive, the overwhelming majority are non-aggressive but they have very large flight zones, so if you don't recognize that and approach too quickly, getting deep in their flight zone, that can get you into a dangerous situation where they get aggressive as a last resort. that said, they do usually still choose flight unless their calf is with them. "never get between mom and baby" applies as it does with any species

dairy cows are in between beef cows and pet cows. they interact with people regularly, several times per day, and it's respectful but not doting. kind of a business relationship with their handlers. they're not terrified of people by any means, but they haven't been, like, hand-fed treats to get over their instinctive wariness of potential-predator-like animals, and they know sometimes handling results in unpleasant experiences like medical treatment or pregnancy checks, so they avoid touch and have a flight zone, though it's small (and sometimes they'll calmly let you walk right up to them unrestrained, or approach you and lick you out of curiosity). very very rare to have an aggressive dairy cow (as in, one that attacks you instead of moving away when you're bothering them a little. really bothering them and ignoring body language when they can't move away is much more likely to get you kicked)

bulls are not docile. not every bull will be aggressive, but you should assume that every bull has the capacity to become aggressive with little provocation, and always keep a respectful distance and know your escape route if you have to be in a pen or field with them

cows love exploring with their tongues. any time you're in a dairy barn there's gonna be at least one friendly girl mlem mlem mlemming who won't leave you alone

adding on to the above, there is a slight caveat that you still have to be a LITTLE wary of friendly cows. 99% of the time they're just friendly but sometimes cows in heat will try to mount people. you don't have to be scared of friendly cows but if they're right next to you just keep them in your line of sight so you can move away if they make like they're going to mount. again, not common, never happened to me, but something to be aware of

signs of a happy, relaxed cow: lying down, chewing cud or eating, tail hanging down relaxed, moving slowly with her herd

signs of a slightly wary cow (you have entered the "pressure zone"): standing still/stopping what she's doing, turning towards you, ears turning towards you (watching the ears is a very good way of knowing what she's paying attention to), tail swishing or raised a bit away from body

signs of a distressed cow: vocalizing (they also moo for other reasons though), tail swishing, fidgeting/pawing/looking like she wants to move but doesn't know where to, freezing up and intermittently making erratic movements (back away a little)

signs of an aggressive cow: head down with attention on you, pawing ground, turning to show you their broad side. (turn sideways and calmly but swiftly walk away diagonally)

[vylewa]

Over the last few weeks, I have been spending my time working on my save file because I'm gearing up to start a Let's Play series on Youtube. As I've been building the stories for the characters in my save file, I started thinking about the Sims universe as a whole and how I want my Sims to travel between worlds. It got me thinking that some worlds feel like they're just a short 4-hour car ride away, while others feel like you'd need a plane to get there.

So, I decided to map out my sims universe. I got a lot of inspiration from different Reddit posts as well as the EA descriptions of each world. This has been so helpful for me as I plan out the buildings I want to place in each world. It has been so helpful with finding inspiration for creating builds. I hope you can find this helpful too.

I'm really happy about my Sims universe turned out. I'd love to hear what you think about it! Are there any worlds you disagree with me on? Also, when are we getting an African world, EA?

North America

New Crest reminds me of suburban New York, mostly because you can still the city skyline from there.

Brindleton Bay reminds me so much of New England.

San Myshuno is quite obviously New York.

Willow Creek gives me a New Orleans vibe.

Magnolia Promenade is somewhere in the south because of the name (magnolias grow in the mostly in Southern United States - Mississippi, Louisiana, Alabama, Florida, Georgia, and South Carolina). I placed it close to Willow Creek for story telling purposes.

Chestnut Ridge gives me a strong Texas vibe.

Del Sol Valley is undoubtedly Los Angeles.

Oasis Springs I think of as Palm Springs with the desert and all, also the Langraabs live there.

San Sequoia I think of as San Francisco mainly because of the Golden Gate Bridge and Bay area, I have all my tech gurus living up there.

Strangerville is straight up Area 51 with all the weird stuff going on there.

Granite Falls gives me a National Park vibe, so I chose my favorite, Yellowstone which is mostly in Wyoming.

Copperdale seems to be in the rocky mountains, I placed it in Montana because of the old mining town description. Butte, Montana used to be a huge mining town.

Moonwood Mill reminds so much of the thick woods in the Pacific West somewhere Washington or Oregon.

Glimmerbrook I imagine is close to Moonwood Mill and the witches and the werewolves are always beefing.

Evergreen Harbor gives me a strong Pacific West port city like Vancouver (I know Vancouver is not in the US, but you get the drift).

Sulani reminds me so much of Hawaii, the beautiful beaches, volcanoes, and mountains and the culture portrayed by Sulanians.

Ciduad Enamorada reminds me so much of Mexico City, Mexico.

South America

Selvadorara gives a strong Amazonian vibe so I placed it in Brazil.

Europe

Britchester because of Britchester uinversity reminds me of Universtiy of Oxford, or University of Cambridge so I placed it in the UK.

Henford-on-Bagley gives off a strong English country vibe so I placed it South Central England.

Windenburg gives off a German vibe because of the style of buildings placed in the world.

Forgotten Hollow I think of as somewhere in Transylvania so I placed it in Romania.

Tartosa is undoubtedly mediterranean so I placed it in Italy.

Asia

Tomarang with the tuk tuks and the tiger sanctuary reminds me of Indonesia.

Mt. Komorebi, my absolute favorte world, is Japan. I can't wait to visit someday.

P.S. Batuu is not included in my sims universe because it is in space, I don't anticipate my sims ever traveling there, but if I ever feel otherwise, I will include it in here.

[honeypiehotchner]

The Gambit (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- part seven

Everything is beginning to unravel 🫣

Warnings: just the usual angst and their bickering! Hotch being...nice? and Reader panicking (but not a full panic attack)

True to Strauss’s words, a new case comes in the next day. You’re admittedly a little more excited than you should be a new serial killer, but you’re tired of so many days in the office. If you’re away on a case, you can’t be called to go speak to Richard Monroe, and Hotch can’t corner you with his suspicions and wild conclusions.

Unfortunately, it does mean that you’ll be forced to interact with Hotch more often. Albeit in conversations focused on the case, but. Everyone has seen how well that goes over for the two of you. 

So, imagine your surprise when you board the jet and see every seat is taken, except the one to Hotch’s right.

Now, you could sit somewhere else, but that would mean sitting so far away from the rest of the team that it would look ridiculous. Your only real, responsible, professional option is to sit next to Hotch.

So, fine. You can be a professional. If Hotch has a problem with it, that’s his fault.

You settle into the seat beside Hotch with a slight huff. At least you’re across from Prentiss and JJ. Across the aisle, Reid sits cross legged on the couch, Morgan lounges in a chair, and Rossi sits with a smug smile hiding behind his palm.

Bastard. He probably put everyone up to this, leaving an empty seat beside Hotch.

Fine.

You clear your throat against the silence as you listen to the pilot start the engines. No one is saying anything, so you join Hotch in opening a case file and rereading over some details.

It’s a fairly run of the mill case, except it isn’t, because this is the BAU, and you guys don’t get the normal serial killers.

The Mobile Police Department found the body of Melissa Johnson on a dirt road outside town. Next to remains of another woman who they have yet to identify. 

Two weeks ago, the same story, one county over. 

A week before that, the same story, one state over, in the De Soto National Forest in Mississippi. Those two women were the worst — if there can even be a competition. 

Each of the women were strangled to death, but not by a belt, wire, or anything you normally see. It was with the unsub’s bare hands. 

Warning bells go off in your head as you take everything in. The strangulation, the discarding of the bodies like they’re ragdolls, the remote locations, across states, it’s— It’s insane. What it makes you think of. Who it makes you think of.

You inhale sharply and close the file, feeling Hotch’s eyes on you. Subject change is needed immediately. 

“Reid, got any new books recently?” you lean your head over to smile at him. 

“No,” he says, and sounds genuinely torn up about it. “I haven’t gone to the secondhand store in a few weeks, though, but I might go when we get back. Do you want to come with me? We should—”

“Reid,” Hotch scolds gently, but the glare he gives you is real. You’re positive then that he’s onto you, and it pisses you off. “What do you see?”

“Six strangled women,” you deadpan, turning your head to look at Hotch. “What do you see?”

His jaw tenses. “A startled agent,” he mutters, quiet enough only for you to hear. “When we touch down in Mobile, Reid, I want you to get started on the board, any connections you can see, I want them up there.”

Reid is already scribbling on his case files, circling words and underlining others. Who knows what he sees, but he’ll elaborate when he comes up for air.

“Rossi, take Prentiss and speak with Melissa’s family,” Hotch says. 

Which leaves you, Morgan, JJ, and Hotch. You shift in your seat, accidentally pressing your thigh against Hotch’s. You shift again, this time knocking your knee into his. 

Fuck this tiny ass jet.

You cease your wiggling, knowing it’s only going to egg Hotch on further. But he runs like a furnace and you can feel the heat of him through your clothes. It’s driving you insane.

“JJ, Morgan, help Reid dig through some of the department’s similar files, I’ve told them to have everything pulled for when we get there.”

You resist the urge to grind your teeth together. You drum your fingers on the table, tilting your head at Hotch. “And what are we getting up to today?”

Hotch stares at you tiredly before looking back down at his file where he has it open on pictures of Melissa’s body. “We’re going to where he left the bodies.”

+++

Hotch drives because he always does. The fact that it also means he gets to watch you and all your nervous ticks while you have nothing else to do means nothing. 

You’ve been acting off ever since the jet, ever since you looked at the photos of Melissa’s body and where it was dumped. Your fingers have not once ceased their drumming, and now you’ve added deep breaths every few minutes into the mix.

Hotch can’t recall ever seeing you act this way. 

He tightens his grip on the steering wheel, bracing himself for your inevitable anger after what he’s about to ask. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” you bite out. Your entire body tenses, all tics coming to a halt. “Why?”

Well, you’re already angry with him — like always. Might as well make it worse. “You seem anxious.”

“I’m fine.”

“Sure you are.”

“Don’t profile me.”

“I don’t have to,” Hotch argues. If they didn’t have somewhere to be, he’d pull over right now and shake your shoulders. “You won’t stop moving.”

“Well, sorry I can’t help being human,” you spit, turning your hand over to pick at your fingernails. “Are you going to tell me I’m breathing too loud next?”

Hotch thinks of your deep breaths. He keeps his mouth shut.

Which, naturally, makes it worse.

“Oh my god,” you scoff. “You’re the one who decided we should go on this merry little drive to look at where he dumped their bodies.”

“I divide up the tasks for every case—”

“Yes, but you didn’t have to pick me,” you protest. “You could’ve taken Prentiss with you. But no, you just had to choose me so we could yell at each other for half an hour.”

Hotch takes his own deep inhale, slowing down when he sees the other police cars up ahead. 

He waits until he pulls off the road to say, “I chose you because you saw something in those photos. You don’t have to tell me what you saw right now, but when it’s relevant, I’d appreciate it if you share. Could be helpful. Let’s go.”

He doesn’t wait for your reply before stepping out of the car, though he does catch your shocked expression before you can hide it.

You recover well, following Hotch to meet the officers, your badge clipped to your hip opposite your gun. Hotch wrenches his eyes away from said hips with more difficulty than he will ever admit to.

“Deputy Harris,” the man introduces himself with a firm handshake.

“Agent Hotchner, we spoke on the phone.” Hotch decides to save everyone the grief and let you introduce yourself.

“Agent L/N, nice to meet you,” you put on a smile and offer an equally firm handshake, proving you’re not someone to mess with in the field, lest any officers get any ideas. “Where did you find them?”

“Right this way,” Deputy Harris gestures down the dirt road that might as well be an overgrown path. “There’s a fishing hole just at the end of it. Denis was driving to it when he saw them.”

You start walking down the path, toward the yellow markers. “Is it a private fishing hole?”

“Not necessarily,” Harris shrugs. “If you know Denis, you can fish there. If you don’t, well.”

“Gotcha,” you nod. “And we can trust Denis?”

Your lighthearted tone shocks Hotch, but it gets a chuckle out of the deputy. “Considering he’s back that way with one of my officers still puking his guts out, yeah, I’d say so.”

“Got it,” you let out a laugh. “He’ll be alright.”

Hotch watches you as you walk ahead with the deputy, and he’s even more shocked by the slight accent coming through your words.

The deputy gives you a pleased smile. “You from around here?”

“No, no,” you shake your head, casting a glance in Hotch’s direction. “Further north.”

Hotch’s eyes dart to yours.

“Ah, Birmingham?” the deputy asks.

“No, uh,” you pause, and Hotch waits for you to correct the officer, say you’re from a different state, but you don’t. You avert your eyes to the dirt path ahead. “Huntsville.”

Hotch’s gaze hardens. You and your file told him you were from a different state entirely. One a long way from Huntsville, Alabama.

The file he asked Garcia to retrieve sits in his briefcase back at the hotel — alongside a sticky note written in her famous gel pen that states she does not approve of this kind of snooping. He hasn’t had the time to fully look through it, but he glanced at the first page, including where you’re from, and it did not say Huntsville.

What game are you playing?

“Is this where he dumped them?” you ask, bringing your hand up to shield your eyes from the sun. The deputy nods.

A few crime scene investigators crawl carefully around the area, taking pictures and notes. The bodies have since been taken away, but they’re still searching for anything they can find. You watch them work from a distance, but Hotch studies you for a moment. 

Something is bothering you about this case.

You ask the standard questions to gain some extra information from the deputy, but it isn’t much. There isn’t much to these murders unfortunately. At least not that they can see right now.

At least not that you’re sharing.

“Well, deputy,” you turn toward him, the sweet southerness still lacing your words and making Hotch’s mouth twitch at the corners. “We’ll let you know if we need anything else. A few of our colleagues have set up back at the precinct.”

Harris nods. “We’ll see you there, then.” He sticks his hand out for another handshake.

You take it in stride. “Best barbeque in town? I'll be a tough judge.”

The deputy laughs heartily. “I don’t doubt that.”

Hotch takes in the area for a moment longer before nodding to the deputy, and then he’s turning on his heel, heading back to the car. The only way he knows you’re following is your stomping footsteps.

He’s going to have a storm waiting for him when he gets in the car, but so will you. 

“Hello?” you shout after him. “Get the creeps or something?”

He slams the car door once he’s inside, waiting for you to do the same. You do.

“Hello?” you repeat, waving your hand in front of his face. “Jesus.” You yank the seatbelt over your body. “Thanks for your help back there. Your questions were so useful.”

Hotch cranks the engine, pulling onto the road to turn around. “Huntsville?” he inquires.

“What?” You rest your head in your hand.

“You’re from Alabama?”

“That is what my birth certificate says,” you deadpan. “Is there an issue with me being born here?”

“No, your—” Hotch stops. What can he say, exactly? If he says that’s not what your file tells him, he’s crossing a line. And you seem…calmer. He doesn’t want to accuse you of lying and set you off before he can get the truth out of you. So, he tries again. “You told me you were from Washington state.”

You shrug. “We moved when I was little. I’m forever split between the two, I guess.”

It’s an uncharacteristic moment of openness between the two of you. Maybe the first ever. Hopefully not the last.

Hotch nods. “Did you like Washington more?”

It takes you a while to answer, and Hotch expects you to poke fun at him, maybe even get angry. But you don’t.

“I did,” you reply, the ghost of a smile crossing your lips. “Did you like where you grew up?”

He lets out a little laugh. “It was okay. My brother and I liked it as much as kids can, I guess.”

“Brother?” you turn to look at him, mischief written all over you. “Let me guess…younger.”

“How’d you know?” Hotch asks, exasperation in his eye roll as he thinks of Sean’s antics.

You hum. “You just seem like an older brother.”

“How so?”

“Pushy,” you blurt immediately.

Hotch scoffs. Looks like the moment of calm was short-lived. “Right.”

“Intelligent,” you add, quietly, looking out the windshield instead. “Protective. You’re used to doing everything yourself and being the boss, steering people around.”

“I am the Unit Chief—”

“Yeah, yeah,” you wave your hand at him. “But you weren’t when I first met you.”

Hotch opens his mouth to protest, but leaves it alone — for once. He raises one hand off the wheel in surrender. “Alright, fair enough.”

You dial Morgan’s number to give him some updates, but first, “Any ideas for dinner? Got a tip for the best barbeque in town.”

Morgan’s laugh rumbles through the phone, “I love the sound of that.”

+++

Arriving back at the precinct, dinner in hand, you and Hotch are…surprisingly fine. Everyone’s jaw’s practically drop open when you both walk into the precinct in one piece. And on speaking terms.

“Uh…” Morgan takes the drink carrier from you, eyeing you and Hotch carefully. “Good?”

“Yeah,” you say, maybe too quickly. “Fine, why?”

You honestly don’t know what’s come over either of you. You didn’t argue the whole way back. Okay, you didn’t talk either, but you’ll take what you can get. You’re just glad he didn’t use the fact that you couldn’t escape as an excuse to ask questions you can’t answer. The silence was as comfortable as you could hope for, the radio playing at a low volume.

“What have you found?” Hotch asks, looking at Reid. He takes the seat diagonal from you.

“Uh, nothing much so far,” Reid replies regrettably. He reaches for a bag of chips as Morgan steals them away. “The greater cities are all accessible by I-10, but the towns are far off the interstate, so it’s not that relevant. But hey, I was thinking, you know who this is reminding me of?”

Everyone shares a wild look. 

“What, kid?” Morgan says with a laugh. “What does it remind you of?”

Around a mouthful of barbeque, Reid says, “Do you remember Carson Adkins? They called him The Strangler.” Reid raises his eyebrows to his hairline.

Your heart stutters to a complete halt. Your lungs constrict.

Around you, the conversation continues.

Morgan: “From the 80s?”

Prentiss: “Didn’t he strike in Georgia and California?”

JJ: “That’s him.”

Reid: “Rossi, wasn’t that when you were with the BAU?”

Rossi: “Thanks, kid, I appreciate the age-check.”

You’re too busy focusing on controlling your breathing to realize you’ve stopped breathing entirely. And moving. 

“Y/N?” Hotch’s voice breaks through the fog, and you flinch away from the noise, despite a table separating you.

“Fine,” you say automatically, setting your sandwich down. Your eyes scan the crowd of worried faces watching you. “I’m fine. We were talking? About the…” You dust your hands off. “The Strangler?”

“Yes,” Rossi says slowly, finally looking elsewhere. “It took us years to track him down because he went dormant and we couldn’t figure out why or where.”

“Did you ever figure out why?” you ask, your voice sounding unlike any sounds you’ve ever produced.

Rossi’s eyes meet yours briefly before he looks away. “He had a wife and daughter. It’s more common than you think.”

You swallow around whatever rock has made a home in your throat. “But you found him.”

“We did,” Rossi says quietly. “He eventually slipped up. He got sloppy, reckless. What really led us to him was someone he knew kidnapping his daughter. He did everything he could to lead us to her. Even though he knew it meant we’d catch him.”

You nod, wrapping your hand around your cup, trying not to dig your fingertips in. It’s foam, for fuck’s sake, and the last thing you need is to spill Coke all over these files.

“His poor wife and daughter,” JJ sighs. “I hope they’re okay, wherever they are now.”

“Yeah,” Rossi says, eyes flicking to yours just for a fleeting second. “Me too.”

After a beat, Derek says, “Do we think this is a copycat then, or…?”

“I don’t think so,” Reid says. “There’s too many differences for it to be a total copycat, I just meant it reminds me of how he traveled by—”

Your ears start ringing too loud to hear him, but it’s for the better. You don’t need to hear him list the differences and similarities. You know them already. 

You know them because The Strangler was— is your father. And you’re the reason he was caught.

[lindaseccaspina]

FIFTY Years for Gamble Funeral Home & Chapel- 1973-2023

Photo from click From John Morrow Were you aware that Reg Gamble has just marked 50 years as a funeral director in Almonte? See the Almonte Gazette archives. Thanks John, I will now record it November1973 The Comba Funeral Home, founded here in 1920 by the late George L. Comba and operated continuously by the Comba family since then, has been sold. The new owner is Mr. C. R. (Reg) Gamble,…

[glamnessaaumisc]

FUN AMERICA FACTS!

The US invented the Navy. The first boat was invented by Massachusetts native John Boat, who made boats so he could bring Christopher Columbus over.

The first Pilgrim to arrive at Plymouth Rock was Scott Pilgrim, who was famous for fighting the world. This fight is commonly known as World War I.

People know about the Lincoln and the Jefferson memorials, but few know about the 42 other memorials hidden all around the United States. Can you find them all?

Oil is grown on American soil and then exported around the world so other countries can dig it up themselves. This is known as OPEC, which stands for Oil Places Everywhere, Crazy! (Huh?)

Atlanta native Joey Steele was the second President of the Soviet Union. The Russians, humiliated that they elected a capitalist pig from the West, posthumously changed his name to Joseph Stalin, but do not deny he was born in Georgia.

Hurricane, Utah is technically the only state due to a legal loophole. The only reason we recognize 50 states is because that is how it has always been.

The least populous state in America is West Dakota.

Slavery was only banned in 2015 because they discovered the 13th Amendment had a typo all that time and "slavery" was misspelled as "slovery," thus invalidating the document. You can sue the government for making you think you weren't allowed to own slaves. Try it!

Few people know about the Understates. Go there.

There is a document hidden in an abandoned steel mill in North Carolina. Find it and you will legally own Mississippi.

[uwmspeccoll]

It’s Fine Press Friday!

This Friday we highlight another book by Gaylord Schanilec and Midnight Paper Sales, out of Stockholm, WI. It’s Come to This, by Twin Cities writer Patricia Hampl, was printed in 2023, in a limited edition of 70 copies signed by Hampl, Schanilec, and Lila Shull – who drew and printed the cover lithograph of ginkgo leaves. The wood engravings are by Schanilec – the large river panorama based on a photograph by Hampl. Typefaces used include Oldrich Menhart’s Monotype Menhart,Hermann Zapf’s Michealangelo, and an italic cast by Nick Gill. Molly Brown assisted the printing “in the wilds of Western Wisconsin,” on the Vandercook Universal III. The paper was handmade in the mid-20th century, at the Velke Losiny Paper Mill in what is now the Czech Republic. According to the colophon, this was when the formula included more sizing, and the formidable paper therefore "retains its pleasing 'rattle.'" Matthew Lawler Zimmerman bound the edition at Studio Alcyon.

“Life’s a journey—no wonder it’s our most ancient metaphor. A platitude, but only truth can harden into cliché.” Written during Covid isolation at her home in St. Paul, It’s Come to This explores escape – that “Midwestern birthright, the desire to be somewhere else” – as well as the significance of a long pandemic: “At your age, a year is a serious percentage of what’s left.” With the background of Midwestern summer storms, the George Floyd protests, and menacing Boogaloo Bois, Hampl walks her dog along the Mississippi feeling both isolated from and deeply connected to the events around her. The text first appeared in The American Scholar in October of 2021. “What exactly, has come to what?” Hampl wonders to her dog. “What is this it I sigh into, what is the this I keep falling upon? What distress and what comfort does this muttered mantra express?”

Shull’s rich pattern of ginkgo leaves across the cover speaks to the dog’s favorite spot to stop along their walks. “I get it.” Hampl concludes to her companion. “And now, standing by the side of the moving water, apparently we have achieved our destination, the ghostly This.”

View more work by Gaylord Schanilec and Midnight Paper Sales.

View other Fine Press Friday Posts.

--Amanda, Special Collections Graduate Intern

[clairity-org]

Mill City, Minneapolis 7/13/23 by Sharon Mollerus

[natalieironside]

Zoe and the Black Goat

Everybody on Patreon already knows about this, but: Hey! I'm writing a rural horror southern gothic-y Lovecraftian mythos fiction YA coming-of-age . . . thing. It's called Zoe and the Black Goat and it's set in the fictional town of Scruggsdale, Mississippi deep in the mysterious far-distant dark ages of 2005.

Zoe MacTeague is, in all important respects, a pretty run-of-the-mill 16-year-old girl who just wants to play soccer and read dusty old books. But when a sudden upheaval in her otherwise-normal life tears her family apart and forces her and her father to start anew on the other side of the country, things start getting a bit . . . weird. There are old secrets here, and restless graves, and a pact sworn in blood when the world was young demands to be fulfilled. Caught up in the machinations of forces far above her pay grade, Zoe and her new friends see little hope of getting through the coming horrors unscathed, let alone alive, but the forest might just hold some secrets that even the thing whispering under the hills doesn't know about . . .

Come see witches and haints and horrors from beyond the stars and one girl's futile quest to have a normal childhood. And come see the goat, the black goat, the Goat With a Thousand Young! Ia! Et cetera and so forth.

So far we got:

Chapter 1: No Wolves in Mississippi

Chapter 2: Great Aunt Beth's Big Day

Chapter 3: Virtue and Prudence

Chapter 4: What They Look Like

Chapter 5: The Big Rock

And more as they come!