#Pothook

[clove-pinks]

I vaguely remembered an improvised fish hook in the Fort Meigs Museum's collection of artifacts recovered on the site, and I went looking for it since so many War of 1812 narratives from Fort Meigs mention fishing in the Maumee River.

I didn't find fishing gear of any kind, but they had this:

A pothook (real), a pothook made from a ramrod, and a pothook made from a bayonet!

It's like beating your swords into plowshares and your spears into pruning hooks but with a different culinary implement.

[babybutchianthe]

A red heat had begun at your exoskeleton’s necklet—travelled up your throat—darkened your face beneath your paint until you felt as though you had been held too close to a stove. You said, “Lord, you can’t.” “Teacher.” “Teacher, have mercy on me. Please don’t tell anyone.” A child’s plea. Nobody has to know. To God! For a moment, he changed. He grew angry, and you thought it was at the rank foolishness, the irresponsibility of what you’d said. Those monstrous, unnatural eyes narrowed, and his mouth became hard as the stones and rocks that had made up the planetoid you’d later slaughter. For a moment you perceived a hint of his great immortal age��of an enormous distance between you, of an ignition too bright for you to conceive.

PALAMEDES Do you really still think of me as a child? VOICE My problem was reminding myself you were a child. I told you this. In almost every letter.

“What does it mean to love God?” “Decent dinner and a bottle of average rosé. Maybe a movie. I’m not picky,” he said. She said, less patiently: “Teacher, what does it mean for a child of the Ninth to love God?” The razor-sharp grasses lay in a shivering mat, cuddled like fearful animals, as the wind swept over them. Fine salty fragments got inside the corners of her mouth. He said, finally— “You live in a darkened house, and in your darkened house are infinite rooms. By the light of a dying candle you cross the room—knowing that when you reach the threshold of the next room you’ll be gone—the candle passed to someone whose face you can’t see clearly.”

PALAMEDES I loved you. I love you still. I would have worked out how to love you better over time. VOICE It would have been very beautiful. Camilla would have had to cook. But I didn't just want beautiful… I wanted it to last, and I wanted to wait, and I knew I couldn't have either. It's not that you were young and foolish, you know? It's just that you were young… and I didn't want to steal any more youth from you. It made me feel rotten.

He was scooping indentations in the sand, making big, print-block child’s letters with the tip of his forefinger. As she watched, he made a pothook—J—then the finned spine of E. He wiped that E clean, and replaced it with A. He wiped that clean, and he drew the prison bars of H. This J and H he barred around with an uneven heart.

[azdoine]

He was scooping indentations in the sand, making big, print-block child’s letters with the tip of his forefinger. As she watched, he made a pothook—J—then the finned spine of E. He wiped that E clean, and replaced it with A. He wiped that clean, and he drew the prison bars of H. This J and H he barred around with an uneven heart. She watched, and she said— “Teacher, may I ask a question?” “Sure,” he said, surprised, and he shook his fingers free of clinging sand. “Shoot.” “What does it mean to love God?” “Decent dinner and a bottle of average rosé. Maybe a movie. I’m not picky,” he said.

[katakaluptastrophy]

I've just realised something about John's creepy sand art.

He was scooping indentations in the sand, making big, print-block child’s letters with the tip of his forefinger. As she watched, he made a pothook—J—then the finned spine of E. He wiped that E clean, and replaced it with A. He wiped that clean, and he drew the prison bars of H. This J and H he barred around with an uneven heart.

Because you know who else has a significant drawing in the sand moment?

Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground. And as they continued to ask him, he stood up and said to them, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” And once more he bent down and wrote on the ground. But when they heard it, they went away one by one, beginning with the older ones, and Jesus was left alone with the woman standing before him. - John 8:1-11

There's no consensus on what Jesus is writing here. But a woman has just been brought to him who had apparently been caught in the act of committing adultery and Jesus was being asked whether she should be stoned to death. Amongst the theories about what he's writing are the sins committed by the men accusing her - they leave because they are confronted with the rot in their own hearts.

And here's John Gaius, whose litany of sins leading up to his dollar store Jesus plagiarism have just been laid out in his own words in the preceeding chapters, writing his own sins in the sand.

[as-nowilove]

The Free Union, André Breton

(trans. Samuel Beckett)

My woman whose tresses are wood-fire

Whose thoughts are heat-lightning

Whose body is hour-glass

My woman whose body is otter in tiger jaws

My woman whose mouth is cockade and bouquet of

stars of the last magnitude

Whose teeth are spoor of a white mouse on the white

earth

Whose tongue is grated glass and amber

My woman whose tongue is stabbed Host

Whose tongue is doll that opens and shuts its eyes

Whose tongue is stone past belief

My woman whose lashes are pothooks' down-strokes

Whose brows are rim of nest of swallow

My woman whose temples are slate of roof of

greenhouse

And fug on windows

My woman whose shoulders are champagne

And fountain frozen o'er its dolphins

My woman whose wrists are matches

My woman whose fingers are hazard and ace of hearts

Whose fingers are hay

My woman whose armpits are beechmast and marten

And Midsummer Night

And privet and nest of

Whose arms are foam of sea and lock

And corn and mill mixed

My woman whose legs are spindles moving

In gestures of clockwork and despair

My woman whose calves are pith of elder

Whose feet are bunch of keys whose feet are caulkers

drinking

My woman whose neck is impearled barley

My woman whose throat is golden Vale

And tryst in the bed yea the bed of the torrent

Whose breasts are night

My woman whose breasts are salt sea molehill

My woman whose breasts are crucible of ruby

Whose breasts are spectrum of rose through dew

My woman whose belly is fan of the days unfurling

Whose belly is giant claw

My woman whose back is bird soaring plumb

Whose back is quick-silver

Whose back is brightness

Whose nape is rolled stone and moist chalk

And fall of the glass that held the wine

My woman whose hips are skiff

Whose hips are candelabrum whose hips are arrow-

feather

And stem of feather of white peacock And numb balance

My woman whose rumps are sandstone and amianth

My woman whose rumps are shoulders of swan

My woman whose rumps are spring-time

Whose sex is iris

My woman whose sex is placer and ornithorynchus

My woman whose sex is mirror

My woman whose eyes full of tears

Whose eyes are compass needle are violet panoply

My woman whose eyes are savanna

My woman whose eyes are water to drink in prison My woman whose eyes are wood under the axe for

ever

Whose eyes are level of water level of air earth and

fire

[tomomiisasleep]

This is the last note on Nona the Ninth.

As she watched, he made a pothook—J—then the finned spine of E. He wiped that E clean, and replaced it with A. He wiped that clean, and he drew the prison bars of H. This J and H he barred around with an uneven heart.

ok creepy old man wonder if anyone actually ships them

ok A.L. is a RB whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat how did I miss that I mean ok yeah it makes so much sense but it's crazy, I mean I didn't realize it all at once but the more I think about it the more enormous it gets

“There can be no forgiveness for those who walked away,” he said. “Just as there can be no forgiveness for me—even though I rip the very fingers from my hands … throw them into the jaws of the monsters who hunt me … as I run from them across the universe, end to end. Something will satisfy them eventually, but nothing satisfies me. Nothing.”

uh! eww!! ok.

ok if Gideon's nowhere inside Harrow's body, and Nona is Harrow-and-A.L., or maybe only A.L., then why is Nona so interested in ladies, who's responsible for that? Harrow right

Nona reached out. She found Camilla’s wrist—a wrist she had loved so keenly, attached to hands that had bathed her and flipped the pages of magazines to read to her and spooned out food she didn’t want to eat.

when Camilla was in Harrow's bone dome, barely sheltered from Cytherea, could she have imagined how she's come to care for her body? when Harrow was naked on the bathroom floor, having barely fought of Gideon, could she have imagined her body living with his in such a closeness?

mustache rides *crying*

Ianthe now you're smoking?

ok I love everything Ianthe says but I still don't forgive her for lying about the cougar corpse!!!

God, it’s like she wants me to catch her,” marvelled Ianthe. “That ill-shampooed slut.”

ok I'm going crazy over these twins again

To which a voice on the opposite side of the shore was raised, exceeding wroth, and Alecto heard it shout in a very great shout: Get in line, thou big slut.

fuckin epic

honestly I thought the "vow" was about the mustache shirt. but like. she forgot didn't she.

ok. ok. I finished it. epic. the planet-soul thing, I actually love it after I understood it a bit better. although I still don't know what the green thing is. gonna do some intense research on what the green thing is

out of the three, my favorite is no doubt Harrow the Ninth. it's unlike anything else.

I can't believe that the plot was so epic that I overlooked the fact that Harrow was shown various kinds of sexy feels in turns by Ianthe, A.L. and Gideon with 0 seconds in between the three happening and then she passed out

you go girl

[iviarellereads]

Nona the Ninth, John 5:4(1)

(Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For detail on The Locked Tomb coverage and the index, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(No icon) In which it's time to finish this, and get on with the rest of the story.(2)

In the dream they were back on the beach with their backs to the sea. The sand was soft and wet and grey—so fine that it dried as they plucked at it, then crumbled through their fingers like ash. The beach was a long, smooth stretch relieved only by hummocks, here and there, of thin grass and silvery driftwood sticking out of the dunes like exposed bone. He was scooping indentations in the sand, making big, print-block child’s letters with the tip of his forefinger. As she watched, he made a pothook—J—then the finned spine of E. He wiped that E clean, and replaced it with A. He wiped that clean, and he drew the prison bars of H. This J and H he barred around with an uneven heart.(3)

She asks if she can ask a question. He agrees, surprised. She asks what it means to love God. He makes a joke about being an easy date. With less patience, she asks what it means for the Ninth House to love their God.(4) There's a long silence, and then he gives her a short parable about faith that you aren't alone.

She said— “After this, you’ll resurrect them.” “Yes,” he said, as though halfway dreaming. He stuck his finger in the sand and made a hole so deep that water glimmered at the bottom. Hypnotized, he did it again. “Yes. Once we’ve rested. No, we’ll do it before you’ve rested. You can rest afterward … resurrection is different from waking up. We’ll get them all back … some of them, anyway … or at least, the ones I want to bring back. Anyone I feel didn’t do it. Anyone I feel had no part in it. Anyone I can look at the face of and forgive. And my loved ones … The ones I left, I’ll bring back. I know I can. Even G—. In fact, G—’ll be easiest—he won’t remember the compound—none of them will have to remember anything. I know where remembrance lives in the brain, and he won’t have any of it. You know that too, don’t you? It’s the easiest thing in the world … to forget.”(5)

She asks if they should forget everything. He says it's the only way, so they won't feel guilty over their actions. He adds there was no other way, once the bombs started going off, there was no hope for G- and Melbourne anyway. She says, but he said that G-'s bomb went off first. He clarifies defensively that of course it did, but that's not the point, and it doesn't matter. Only one thing matters now. He smooths over the holes he created with his fingers, and says he still breathes, and "they" still exist, and he cannot forgive them.(6) She asks to whom he refers. He doesn't answer.

Then he said, “Do you remember what happens now?” Harrowhark Nonagesimus stood up. She brushed a few traces of sand off her trousers. [...] “Yes,” she said. “Through her, I’ve seen it. You resurrect some of them. You wake up fewer still. You start out with a few thousand, then, later, some hundred thousand, then millions, but never more than millions.(7) You teach them how to live all over again. You teach yourself. [...] It’s easy. You’re God. Your energy is limitless and you can sustain your theorems without a thought—forget about them—because she is so enormous, and you and she are one. She understands at this point that she does not have to die—that she can never die, if you’re alive. And she’s scared to die.(8) You’re afraid of so many things, but she’s only afraid to die. Then, when the disciples come to you and say the word Lyctor, she does not understand that they want the thing you did to her—she watches as you watch … watch them misunderstand the process.”(9)

He says "God must be able to touch all of creation". She doesn't understand.

“You said it yourself. I can’t die if she’s alive; she can’t die if I’m alive. Why would you let something like that run around, Harrow? Why would you let someone go—away from you—untouchable—two people?(10) I couldn’t—I loved them too much—I saw the face of Earth and choked the life out of it and ate it whole. Oh, I knew I was on the clock for the Resurrection Beasts. I pretended she was the only one,(11) but I knew the others were coming. I needed my loved ones to be something I could touch … needed them to be my hands … my fingers.”

He reiterates that there's no forgiveness for those who ran from him, and there can be no forgiveness for himself, either. Not even as he rips off his very fingers and throws them at the monsters who hunt him.(12) Still, the power of God allows him to wipe it clean again, if he wants, like an old cleaner ad, "Spray and walk away, right?" He thinks perhaps the only reason he hasn't done it yet is that he wouldn't be able to touch them.(13) He thinks maybe that's why he made the Tomb, because it's his death, the apocalypse,(14) his self-preservation.

She says there's something she doesn't understand. He says there's lots he doesn't.

She said— “I want to understand why she was angry—I want to understand the mathematics, now that I have seen them for myself. I want to know how many of the Resurrection are left, and how many you began with, and what the discrepancies are. I want to know where you put them. They didn’t go into the River. I want to know why she was angry … and why you were terrified.” She looked away from him, and she said: “I want to journey to find God. Maybe, at the end of that road, I will find God in you, Teacher … the God who became man and the man who became God. Or, perhaps, the child of the Nine Houses will recognise a different divine. But I am the Reverend Daughter—I am the Reverend Mother, the Reverend Father—I must find God, or some aspect of God, and understand it for myself … even if she lies, right now, within the Tomb.”

He stands, and he's taller than she is, but she isn't afraid of him. He puts a hand on her shoulder and looks at her, wonderingly.(15) She can see no fear in him now.

He tells her God is a dream, one the people all dream together, even "her"(16). He asks where she will go in her search.

She turns from him, standing ankle-deep in the River.

Before her, the waters parted, speared-through and mute, for the enormous lance of a tower(17)—a tower that had never been there before; a tower that soared, impossible and deadly grey, out of the waters—a tower of grey bricks, lurching out of the River as though gasping for air. An impossible, cone-capped tower—a belled tower; she could see the steeple, but the bell cot was too far from shore to see the bell. “I’ll start there,” she said. And she stepped into the River. She took another step, and she walked, and she walked.

=====

(1) "And an angel of the Lord descended at certain times into the pond and the water was moved. And he that went down first into the pond after the motion of the water was made whole of whatsoever infirmity he lay under." A difficult passage to find relevance in. Loosely, I suppose, you could say that John's intention to resurrect Gideon again counts as making him whole. Our final A1Z26, though, the full sequence: THE TOWER IS REACTIVATED. The very Tower that Harrow views, here, in the River? What does it mean? Now, at this point, I can tell you that there was at least one report, from someone who got an advanced reader copy of the book, that there was a second A1Z26 sequence. Admittedly, it was just a tweet, which may or may not have disappeared since, but it said that in the ARC version, it read THE TOWER WANTS JOHN GAIUS. I should've been going through and checking the relevant Bible passages for that version, too, as I read… but I'm giving that to you, my readers, as a fun side project. Open the John chapter summaries, pull up a Douay Rheims or any old translation you prefer, and look up the alternate verses. How do they stack up against each chapter's contents? Are they more or less applicable? Honestly a lot of the "final" hardback/ebook version verses are just like astrology or tarot: vague enough that you can find ways to apply them within your biases and expectations. I don't expect that the ARC version would be much different. Though, I am curious if we'll get a third set with the paperback release in a couple of months. (Why yes, I have mine preordered.)

(2) Quite literally, when you consider this used to be the end of Act One of Alecto the Ninth. (3) The ancient tradition of putting your initials with those of your lover. John loves Earth, not quite right. John loves Alecto/Annabel, still not quite there. John loves Harrowhark? Why yes. I don't think this is a literal romantic love, though. I think it's dream-logic, since here, she is both Alecto and Harrowhark. (4) And here, the proof that it was always, on some level, Harrow as much as Alecto. (5) Multiple parts to break down here. For one, he's still mentally stuck in the story, speaking as if he only just ate Earth. Two, he's still making decisions for people he has no right to decide for. Three, this really reinforces my questions as to whether or not the Lyctors remember their pre-Resurrection relationships to him. This seems to imply that he doesn't want them to. (6) Again, he seems stuck in the immediate aftermath of his story, as if it really has only been weeks, as if he hasn't yet performed the Resurrection. Is it just dream logic? Is he insane? (7) I have another theory that he's Resurrected multiple times, I don't think I've mentioned it in the non-spoiler read so far, but here's kind of where it goes. Think back to the opening poem, "This time will be the time we get it right". He knows how to make them forget. He knows how to restore their bodies and minds to a particular point in their lives. There seem to be a lot of hints that he spent more time at Canaan House than the strictest indications of other characters' timelines as given, like Pal's psychometry indicating some pieces are thousands of years older than others. They could just be rescued statues, but the implication all that way back in GtN was that they were two parts of a whole, or seemed to be, but separated in time. There are a LOT of reasons to reread the series and there are a LOT of things that can serve as launching points for theories.

(8) Which brings a whole new depth to Nona's admission. That she's ready to die. Over and over she said it. And now I'm just gonna go crawl into a lil hole and cry for a bit over it. (9) She watches as he lets them misunderstand. As he lets them butcher each other to gain a fraction of what he has. (10) What two people? (11) Acknowledgement that she wasn't really just the Earth's spirit anymore. Alecto was the first Resurrection Beast. Truly, it's a wonder she passed for as human as she did, to make the Lyctors only suspect and not rebel so much sooner. And remember, too, that once it was stated in the text that she started to go crazy after they put down the first RB. (12) He throws the Lyctors at the RBs, and at the BOE, and at anyone who threatens his empire and his power. (13) Wouldn't be able to touch whom? Why would his loved ones not come back to him, especially if he altered their memories? Does he mean that he wouldn't have his present reach into non-House territory? This whole chapter is a damned fever dream. (14) Remember the dual meaning of this one? Yeah. (15) I think this is an intentional dual-meaning again. Wondering as in thoughtfully, but also wondering as in "with wonder(awe)". (16) Alecto, one assumes. (17) And at long last, The Tower... but what could it mean? There's not much time left for answers in this book, and we don't know when the next one's due.

[pix4japan]

Sunken Hearth at Teahouse (Hakone, Kanagawa Prefecture, Japan)

The Amazake-chaya Teahouse has retained its charm dating back to the early 1600s. The entrance still has the hard earthen floor where wooden tables and chairs are made available for guests.

Farther back are the more traditional woven straw tatami mats where guests sit on the mats and enjoy their drinks and food on knee-high tables.

The centerpiece of the interior is the irori (open sunken hearth), which has a unique figure-8 shape (typical irori are square or rectangular) surrounded by beautiful hardwood flooring.

In this shot, you can also see the jizaikagi—a contraption that includes a pothook attached to a rope that runs through a bamboo pole and extends up to the ceiling timber directly over the irori. The height of the pothook can be changed to adjust the temperature of the food or liquid in the pot.

Irori were common in the main living room of traditional Japanese homes where wood, charcoal, or even coal was burned. Upper-class homes would have had an additional irori in the tea ceremony room where smokeless charcoal was used.

Irori also provided homes with some lighting at night, heat for the main room, and could be used to dry wet laundry, cook food, boil water, and to dry fish and fruit.

Smoke from the irori, specifically the tar in the smoke, was also an essential component for preserving the structural integrity of thatched-roof buildings. While the heat from the irori drew moisture from the building’s timbers and thatched roof to prevent rot and mold, the tar from the smoke would coat and permeate the wooden beams and underside of the thatched roof helping to further prevent mold and rot, and was especially effective at repelling pests, and added an extra layer of waterproofing against rain and snow.

Fujifilm X100V (23 mm) with 5% diffusion filter ISO 3200 for 1/4 sec. at ƒ/2.0 Astia/Soft film simulation

[gardennero]

$15.89 43% off sell - DIHE S - Shape Dry Clothes Pothook Plastic Multipurpose - Pink - 3351961814 Available Color: Pink,Blue,Green,Beige Functions: Bathroom Materials: Plastic Types: Hooks and Racks 0.040 Package Size(L x W x H): 7.00 x 7.00 x 14.00 cm / 2.76 x 2.76 x 5.51 inches Package weight: 0.075 kg Product Size(L x W x H): 6.00 x 6.00 x 14.00 cm / 2.36 x 2.36 x 5.51 inches Package Contents: 1 x Pothook more product select from our Other Home & Garden Products:https://www.gardennero.com/1229-other-home-garden-products #& # #& # # #

[mario-19]

Last message of 2020.

Hola a todos! Cómo estáis? Espero que bien. Hacía mucho que no escribía algo para mis redes sociales, así que este será el último mensaje del 2020. Antes que nada (y perdón si soy repetitivo como en los anteriores mensajes), perdón a mis seguidores por no haber puesto muchos dibujos nuevos en este año. Como os decía, estoy con mi segundo libro, que para principios de enero o mediados estará acabado, y podréis disfrutarlo como el de Moby Dick. Este año solo he sido productivo con mi proyecto, y no me ha apetecido mucho poner cosas nuevas en mis redes sociales. Igual algunos me tildarán de vago, pero muchos de vosotros no os imagináis lo que supone hacer un libro, sobre todo con la parte que me toca: hacer viñetas, poner diálogos, colorear, sombrear, etc... Y supone mucho trabajo y dedicación, y luego sólo me apetece descansar, y no tocar el lápiz. Aunque disfrute de mi trabajo, no puedo estar 100% con él. Quiero aprovechar otras cosas. Por eso no he puesto muchos dibujos nuevos, aunque estoy orgulloso de los que he puesto. En muchos me he superado y me he dado cuenta de que puedo hacerlo mejor, aprovechando las técnicas digitales que antes no usaba para nada. Así que, como os dije, sólo pondré algo nuevo si me interesa hacerlo. Eso sí, vuestro apoyo me serviría de gran ayuda para seguir creciendo como artista. Gracias a vosotros, cada día tengo más ganas de seguir con esta profesión, y llegar a hacer muchas historias para que las disfrutéis que es lo importante. Y nada más, sólo os quería decir eso. Os dejo una foto del que ha sido mi segundo cómic publicado( aunque sea el primero publicado por una editorial profesional, no me olvido de Tritón, que lo publiqué por primera vez en la revista Pothook). Sobre Tritón os iré informando de novedades, que ya os avisé anteriormente de que el juego de rol en el que él estaba sigue en funcionamiento, y mi jefe está intentando a ver si encuentra a un ilustrador interesado para hacer los dibujos, ya que yo seré el guionista. Pues eso, muchas gracias por haber leído esto, que paséis una feliz Nochevieja, y que el 2021 sea un año mejor que este, en el cual, disfrutaréis de mi segundo cómic (y espero que los que hayáis comprado Moby Dick lo hayáis disfrutado). Un saludo y a seguir dibujando!! Hello everyone! How are you? I hope it's ok. It has been a long time since I wrote something for my social networks, so this will be the last message of 2020. First of all (and sorry if I am repetitive as in the previous messages), forgive my followers for not having put many new drawings this year. As I was saying, I am with my second book, which will be finished by the beginning of January or the middle, and you can enjoy it like Moby Dick's. This year I have only been productive with my project, and I have not really wanted to put new things on my social networks. Maybe some will call me lazy, but many of you cannot imagine what it means to make a book, especially with the part that I have to do: make vignettes, put dialogues, color, shade, etc ... And it takes a lot of work and dedication , and then I just want to rest, and not touch the pencil. Although I enjoy my work, I cannot be 100% with him. I want to take advantage of other things. That is why I have not put up many new drawings, although I am proud of the ones I have put up. In many I have surpassed myself and I have realized that I can do better, taking advantage of digital techniques that I did not use at all before. So, as I told you, I will only put something new if I am interested in doing it. Of course, your support would be of great help to me to continue growing as an artist. Thanks to you, every day I have more desire to continue with this profession, and get to make many stories for you to enjoy, which is the important thing. And nothing else, I just wanted to tell you that. I leave you a photo of what has been my second published comic (even if it is the first published by a professional publisher, I do not forget Triton, which I published for the first time in Pothook magazine). About Tritón I will inform you of news, that I previously warned you that the role-playing game in which he was still running, and my boss is trying to see if he finds an interested illustrator to do the drawings, since I will be the screenwriter. Well, thank you very much for reading this, have a happy New Year's Eve, and may 2021 be a better year than this, in which, you will enjoy my second comic (and I hope those of you who have bought Moby Dick have enjoyed it) . Greetings and continue drawing !!

[caldangles]

Thanks for the kind words! ★★★★★ "These are so. beautiful. My plants were hanging on their curtain rods by some sad looking s-hooks I found at the hardware store, so I had to look for something more eye-catching. These hooks fit the bill and then some. Lovely copper and finished ends." Kate C. #copper #pothook #hanger #handmade #gardenhanger #panhanger #potrack #copperhook #copperkitchen https://etsy.me/2Fsqp8l https://www.instagram.com/p/CFEZd8jHfzY/?igshid=1mtmetxwe6kb1

[2thinkforest]

自在鉤（クリ材×ウォールナット材）×吊花器（ヒサカキ材×革紐） #自在鉤 #吊花器 #ヒサカキ #スポルテッド #サクラ #spaled #spaltedwood #flowervase #pothook #花器

[inktog]

Some people seem confused about the John dreams, so I wanted to spell out what I think is happening.

In the dreams, there are two characters: he and she. While he is obviously John, she is somehow both Harrow and Alecto. When he directly addresses her—as you—he seems to be talking to the planet Earth, to Alecto. The only way out was to dump the population on an exoplanet, he says. It was about giving you breathing room, you know? But when he names her, her name is Harrowhark. She, for her part, speaks very little, but in the last dream she speaks blatantly as Harrow: “Teacher, what does it mean for a child of the Ninth to love God?”

The dreams are in a River bubble. This is pretty obvious: the bubble parts at end of the last dream, and she—Harrow—walks in the direction of the tower. Exactly how they ended up here remains to be seen, but this isn't a first for Harrow; the Canaan House bubble in HTN happens while she's dreaming or unconscious.

In the last dream, he asks, “Do you remember what happens now?” And she says, “Yes. Through her, I've seen it.” She's talking about the Resurrection and the Eightfold Word, but if we retroactively apply this lens to the dreams—to his account of the extinction event—it resolves the contradiction of her. Harrow is seeing, learning, through Alecto's eyes. More specifically, they have swapped dreams (just as they have swapped bodies): Nona dreams of Gideon’s forgiveness, and Harrow dreams of crawling with John through the wreckage of the planet he destroyed only yesterday.

In the dream bubbles—in 2011—little pockets of pseudo-reality within the maddening horror and nonsensical spacetime of the Furthest Ring, the dead and dreaming reenact old memories; at least once, a character (Aranea) pretends to be someone else (AG) for the sake of a reenactment. Likewise, Harrow and John are acting out one of Alecto's memories. They sometimes break character to talk as their present-day selves, but they are otherwise passive observers in this dream-memory. Thus, John’s account is not (as I've seen some people claim) filtered through a myriad of self-denial. This isn't the John from HTN with a perfect lie ten thousand years in the making. It's John in the wake of his very recent omnicide, scrambling to explain himself to Alecto.

Direct dialogue in the dreams usually forgoes quotation marks. But sometimes it uses them, including but not limited to: every time he calls her Harrowhark or Harrow, every time she calls him Lord or Teacher, and the entirety of the final dream. We can infer that quotation marks are used when, and only when, the speaker breaks character. This clears up some things. Like how Then they were gone…lost it time to me forever (past John) becomes “They are still out there. There can be no forgiveness” (present John). However, we've reintroduced an old problem.

In the dream, he says, “This is the part where I hurt you. Are you ready?” (With quotation marks.) In the dream, he says, “Do you remember what you said to me once I had done it? When we stood here together?” (With quotation marks.) In the dream, he calls her “beloved” and “love.” (With quotation marks.) In the dream, he makes a pothook—J—then the finned spine of E. He wipes that E clean, and replaces it with A. He wipes that clean, and he draws the prison bars of H. This J and H he bars around with an uneven heart. John—our John, present-day John—is conflating his old love with his new student. Harrow plays along, and in doing so gains some more answers.

In the dreams, she says, “I still love you.” (With quotation marks.)

[trickstercheshi]

Apparently tumblr didn't actually post this post I wrote right when I finished nona so time to go back and add some quotes.

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Ok I just finished nona and I'm going insane but, I wonder if mercymorn and Augustine and Gideon aren't the lyctors original names? Bc we know that's who Jod is talking about, but why censor them? Unless they were different and he changed them when the woke up.

My key piece of evidence for this is the bit where he talks about Ulysses and Titania and how he changed their names from the original. ALSO WILD THAT THEY WERE DEAD BEFORE HE MET THEM AND REVIVED WAY LATER

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My evidence:

So, my two kids, the guinea pigs, they were U— and T— on their certificates, you know, their old names. I thought about using those but it didn’t seem appropriate.

And then a bit later:

Let me introduce you to … Ulysses. Let me introduce you to … Titania.

Following these naming conventions that means all the lyctors had other names originally. I'm dying to know what they are.

And also trying to figure out who all the ppl he's referencing are:

He said, It was me and A— and M— at the start.

This one's pretty obviously Augustine and Mercymorn.

C— was brought on by the oversight execs for contracts, you know, checks and balances, but look where that ended up, she was on our side before the first year was over

This could be Cristabel, Cassiopeia, Cyrus, or Cytherea. (God why r there so many C names). Leaning towards Cristabel at this point just bc she goes with Mercymorn.

We even lent them G— at the time because they wanted to talk about coating.

This one's G1deon obviously.

C— was panicking because with the project over she was getting recalled to England and didn’t want to go, she’d got N— and didn’t want to leave her, refused to admit they were dating even though we all knew.

Ok so C is pretty obviously Cassiopeia at this point, and N is Nigella.

Interesting side note here, everyone mentioned so far is a necromancer, not cavelier (with the exception of N whose only referenced in relation to C.

we had a pet cop, P—. She’d made detective by that point; was going on to big things in the MoD. Knew G— from way back,

PYRRHA yasss baby

god her being a cop makes so much sense lmao.

C— was still pretending they weren’t dating—she was an artist, so that was cool. If you have two scientists and an engineer and a detective and a lawyer and an artist you’re pretty much sweet as.

Cassiopeia is the lawyer if we're going off of the earlier quote, so Nigella is the artist, Mercymorn and Augustine are both scientists, I'm p sure G1deon is the engineer, and Pyrrha is the detective obviously.

M— had brought in her best friend, the nun,

interestingly this person is always described as "M—'s nun, and never given a letter. It could definitely be Cristabel, especially given that we can't use C— twice without it being hella confusing, but I'm wondering if John chose not to revive her afterwards for some reason so she's not actually anyone. There's this weird distance to how he describes her vs the other ppl: "the nun", "our nun", "M—'s nun" vs everyone's name. (He would be that petty).

My other theory is that M—'s nun is ANASTASIA. Again, can't use A a second time, she's obviously smart as hell and gets him to figure out the soul, which hello our Anastasia almost perfected the actual lyctoral process, and obviously the ninth house is full of nuns. Plus, he trusted her to watch over Alecto and seal the tomb, who better then the person that showed you she existed in the first place?

And then A— brought in his little brother who was a hedge fund manager. A— Junior was useless but he was a darling,

We know from HTN that this is Alfred.

That's everyone whos mentioned by name so to speak. But one other interesting initial bit:

he made a pothook—J—then the finned spine of E. He wiped that E clean, and replaced it with A. He wiped that clean, and he drew the prison bars of H. This J and H he barred around with an uneven heart.

J for John, and then that would be Earth, then Alecto presumably, then Harrow.

This almost all of the lyctors. The only pairs not mentioned or possibly alluded to is Cyrus and Valency and Cytherea and Loveday. I'm wondering if they were part of the original preserved bodies since John mentioned there were more than just the two he named initially. Ig they could be randomly resurrected people, especially given the timeline of lyctoral assension.

I'm sad Cytherea wasn't in this at all I would have loved to find out more about who she was.

[grainfreeandhappykitchen]

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[pinkit]

When I was rereading Harrow in preparation for Nona (as one does) I started to develop this very cockamamie theory. John calls Harrow "a kind of Resurrection," and his Lyctors described Alecto as "not human," and Harrow had some incredible powers that aren't normal even for a Lyctor, and sure, maybe that's Gideon, but what if it's the other 200 souls of the Ninth? What if she's powerful because she's a Resurrection... and what if John is so powerful because his cavalier is a Resurrection of an entire planet? An RB is the soul of a planet, after all. So what if Alecto... was Earth?

...

I CANNOT BELIEVE I WAS RIGHT.

As she watched, he made a pothook -- J -- then the finned spine of E. He wiped that E clean, and replaced it with A. He wiped that clean, and he drew the prison bars of H.

E > A > H

Earth > Alecto > Harrow

I'm going to be screaming about this forever.