#also cooking up some ideas for the Harvey crowd

[oorangesoda]

It’s happening… everyone be COOL ITS HAPPENING

[sdvvillagers]

For all the villagers, cats or dogs?

Just covering the non-marriage villagers in this one, even then I have way too much to say on the subject, apparently.  XD

Caroline - I imagine Caroline growing up in a household full of cats and just adoring them.  She was devastated when she found out that Pierre is severely allergic, yet another contributing factor to their rocky marriage.

Pierre - He’s allergic to cats in canon, but I also don’t headcanon him as a lover of dogs either.  I think that in Pierre’s mind, pets are just problematic and too much work.  I imagine this is why Abigail has a pet guinea pig, it’s the only pet her father would allow her to have since it’s confined to a cage.

Robin - LOVED cats… until she found out that Sebastian was allergic and she had to get rid of her favorite kitty.

Demetrius - Doesn’t honestly have a preference, he prefers a pet-free house.  Less animal hair to contaminate his lab.

Evelyn - As partial as I am to the image of the sweet old lady with a kitty curled up in her lap, I just don’t see that for Evelyn.  I actually picture her as a dog person.  Mostly due to how much she sees Dusty help her grandson, she appreciates what that dog has done for him in his lifetime to provide support and it makes her really have a fondness for dogs.

George - Much as George loves to scowl at animals and gripe about how much work they are, he does have an unspoken fondness for Dusty.  When Evelyn is inside cooking and Alex is away at the beach, he’ll wheel himself near Dusty’s enclosure and talk to him for a bit of company.

Jodi - Jodi is neutral to pets and doesn’t really have a preference to dog or cat… they both require lots of work and care that she knows she’ll end up having to provide.  She doesn’t DISLIKE pets by any means, but it’s hard to add one more responsibility to her life.

Kent - Kent never used to be fond of animals until he returned home from the war.  Upon his return home, he found it hard to connect to people and found himself longing for a connection to someone that could just listen to him without judgement or pity.  He was tired of the pitying looks he received or the kid hands that he was treated with.  Shortly after his return home, Vincent wanted to get a pet dog.  Vincent was bored with it in no time, but Kent actually bonded with it rather quickly.  In no time, that dog was clearly Kent’s dog and not Vincent’s.  He found his mental health improving with this new dog and the walks he takes the dog on are quite therapeutic for him.

Vincent - Oh, Vincent loves dogs!  They’re great!  They’re amazing!  They’re fun!  Until you realize how much work and responsibility they are, then they’re far less fun.  As mentioned above, when Vincent finally does get a dog, it’s a great novelty for about a week, but picking up dog poop and taking the dog out for a walk daily is no fun.  The idea of it is far more entertaining than actually owning one.

Gus - Gus would actually LOVE to have a pet!  He’s more of a dog person, but hey, even a cat would be nice to have around as company.  But being the owner of a saloon that serves food, it’s just not sanitary to keep an animal inside.  Every so often before the saloon opens, he’ll poke his head out to check in on Dusty and even throw him a few bones or scraps of food from the saloon.

Clint - Clint is very lonely in his house all by himself.  Like Gus, he would love to have an animal to keep him company, but he’s afraid of having a small animal in a house with such dangerous equipment.  As much as he would love a dog or cat, it’s too risky in case they were to get too close to his furnace.  I could see Clint going for something like a snake or pet fish or something… something that stays where you leave it.

Marnie - OF COURSE Marnie loves all animals!  I honestly think she wouldn’t have much of a preference between dogs or cats, she’s probably owned both in her lifetime!

Jas - Jas loves spending time with all of Marnie’s animals, but admittedly some of the bigger ones are intimidating to her and even the smaller chickens can be a bit off-putting with such sharp beaks.  Jas longs to have a kitty; the softest, fluffiest one that ever existed.  Well, of course Marnie would never turn down another animal and Uncle Shane can’t resist doing something for Jas when she’s such a good kid, so you know she’s gonna end up with the softest, fluffiest white kitty with bows in her hair named Fifi.

Lewis - Lewis feels that his job as mayor is ‘too important and time consuming’ to even consider owning an animal (notice the sarcastic quotation marks).  However, I feel that after retirement, he would be open to having a pet to keep him company after Marnie inevitably kicks him to the curb, and I definitely see him being a cat person.  He would take his cat everywhere after that, even to community events (despite Harvey’s continued insistence that it’s not wise to bring a cat into a crowd where there are those who have allergies).

Linus - Animals aren’t meant to be ‘owned’, they deserve to be free just like humans.  Linus lives peacefully with the animal life in the mountains, respecting their space and need to hunt/gather just as he too has this need.  He peacefully co-exists with the wildlife around him.

Pam - Pam looooooves cats.  Like, if she had the space for them, she would own so many cats and be one of those crazy cat ladies.  But, not a lot of space to house a bunch of cats in a trailer and not a lot of money to provide for them adequately.  Of course she could probably make it happen regardless, but she has enough sense to know that it wouldn’t be a great living situation for the cats.

Willy - Willy’s a dog lover for sure.  He on-again off-again owns dogs that usually accompany him in his boat when he goes out on the ocean.  Whenever one of his trusted canine friends passes, he takes some time to grieve but within a year or so he’s got his next furry companion.  That’s really all Willy wants/needs out of life is a home by the sea and a canine companion by his side.

[missielee]

Passion

Day 1&2: Fish & Wisp

Fish – such a fascinating creature

It was Olivia’s first passion as well as pet

When she was seven, her dad took her and her sister to the aquarium downtown.

It was magnificent, she said

It was like a different world, she said

Engulfed by a singular color blue, she was mesmerized by all the moving little diamonds around her

Colorful scales glimmered in the tank lights, felt like thousands stars on the sky

They moved oh so gracefully, bubbles curved along their fins

It was like a water dance.

That was at least ten years ago, little Olivia has already turned into a beautiful young woman who is passionate about the ocean life, specifically sea creatures. Fascinated by them, she indulged hours in books on her dad’s shelves and pursued her dream to become, well, quoted on quote “Fish”.

Fish is a peculiar animal. They live in water and absorb oxygen through their respiration system which is the gills. Their body is covered in scales worked as camouflage, protection and swimming aid. Their fins flutter through the current as they sway their body elegantly. What could possibly better than being a fish, swimming freely in the water blue?

“I prefer whale better” Janet voiced her opinion out loud

“What? That swimming elephant? No way!” Olivia eyed her friend in disbelief “That’s not even a fish!”

“It’s a sea creature too so it sorta counts. Also, FYI, that is super mean. That’s probably equivalent to pointing out someone is obese in fish language.” Janet rolled her eyes, continued eating her lunch

“Whale and dolphin are mammals, so not a fish. Beside, would you really want to be a whale? Big, giant blue whale?”

“Uh, whale is my spiritual animal, therefore, yes I’ll be the big giant and BEAUTIFUL blue whale” a glare was directed right back to Olivia “At the very least, I won’t get eaten by other species”

“Other than human, sure!” Olivia sipped her water “You do know that a fair amount of whale was hunted for meat and oil in the past right?”

“Whale hunting was a thing?”

“Yeah, it was like a thing back in 1800s. Products made from whale, mainly oil, are incredibly valuable. A barrel of sperm-whale oil can even went up to 1500$ per barrel” Olivia shrugged “But it wasn’t used much nowadays because many better resource appeared: like Kerosene, vegetable oil, petrol”

“Uh huh, you know a lot about whale for someone who just insult it” Janet smirked upon her “You like whale too, don’t you ~”

“Said the one who have their nose in Moby Dick like twenty times or something. I only know some of the basic thing about whale”

“Hey, that book is a masterpiece! Brave men against the nature! Battling fearlessly! Unlike you and you’re fish tank obsession.”

Olivia couldn’t bother to say back. It’s true that she’s have an itsy bitsy infatuation with fish, but she couldn’t explain it why she adores them that much. Some have told her she could become mermaid like those performs in aquarium shows but Olivia refused. Even though it was her dream to become of them, she absolutely hates mermaid/merman in generally because mermaid doesn’t swim like a fish does, according to her logically research. Since mermaid have different anatomy, their swim movement is up-and-down, which isn’t the normal side-to-side like fish does. In addition to that, mermaid eats fish, explained her dislike towards becoming one. She understood that it’s normal to pray on one to another in the animal kingdom but she cannot stand the idea of feasting on such pretty shiny thing. ‘I mean people might have evolved enough to even eat gold but not diamond, right?’

It’s not the first time she realized turning into a fish is practically impossible. Despite her fascination of the marine life, she apparently have Thalassophobia, which prevents her from any activities near the open water. It was upsetting to Olivia, having to spend her life in pictures capturing a small part of the vast water part. It’s like try to play puzzles with endless pieces and they all have the same shade of color. No amount of therapy could help her reach the board of the ship, the closest she could ever get is the lightly wet sand shore. Moreover, there’s an unexplainable feeling when she reaches the ocean, she hears it whisper her name in sad serenity. And on a more frightening term, it always seems to seep closer and closer to her.

“Livvy? You’re spacing out again. Come on, we’ll be late for class” she snapped out of her daze, turn to see her friend already finished packing her belongings

Checking her phone, 2:45 and her class started at 3, she needed to hurry.

“Oh I almost forgot. You’ll come to the Jake’s party this evening, right?”

“Beach party? Not so sure, you know how I feel about it”

“It’s just on shore. I’ll be there too. Don’t worry, if anyone tries to drag you near the water then they’ll have to go through me” Janet smirked. Three years in Aikido is enough to take anyone down, not to mention she was a three times champion of the city, as if that isn’t intimidating enough but it ensures Olivia enough to have a good time by the sand.

“But this evening already? I thought it’s on 13th?”

“Today is the 13th, Goldfish. Did you fall head over heel for Jake so far that you forgot to check for the actual date?”

“I might have mistaken a Friday for a Saturday. But that doesn’t make me a goldfish! And goldfish have good memory! The five seconds attention span is a myth!” Olivia exclaimed

“I guess your attention span is probably so filled with Jake that you can only remembered that he has invited you~”

The two kept bickering as they walked each other to class, like all the other days.

  It was around eight when Olivia and Janet arrived at the party, and it sure is a lively one. The torch lit up the area but it was no match to the people’s dancing along the live music band. Sound of chatters mixed with the awry waves of the sea like a symphony. Olivia immediately spotted Jake in the crowd by the barbecue, greeting newcomers and grilled the ribs with his cheerful expression bright like sunlight. Janet could guess what millions thoughts going through her bestie’s mind as she pulled her over to the food court.

“Hey Jake, nice buns you got there. Mind if we have a taste?” Jake laughed wholeheartedly  

“Why I wouldn’t mind you two lovely ladies to have a taste of my delicious buns, of course!” A wink sent towards them as Olivia reddened

“I-I-I brought some cakes from Rosie’s! A-And I think it’s a great party!” Jake took the box from Olivia and gave both of them a small dish

“I love Rosie’s cake! This is great for desert! Thanks Olivia!”

And needless to say, Janet had to play the waitress and lead a very blush female to a table while holding two dish of steak.

“Oh Janet! Did you see him smiling at me? He’s so nice!” Janet have a gulp of soda after settling down and listening to her friend’s love rant.

“Eat your steak Olivia or I’ll help you know how it’s like to be fish”

“Alright, no need to do that. I’m not some toddler, you know” Olivia sulked and cut a piece

Olivia notice a newspaper left next to her seat, seemed like it was today’s news. Curious, she decided to have a look since Janet had went to get a second plate.

“BREAKING NEW:  SUCCESSFULLY FOUND THE ONLY SURVIVOR OF THE S.S HARVEY INCIDENT

Olivia Breston, eldest daughter of the Breston family and a bright student at Morrington University, was discovered barely breathing and unconscious on floating remains of the unfortunate ship by the fishermen of Devonne port. Lifeboat was sent immediately to revive and take Olivia to the closest hospital. 17h28 of 13th October, we received news …”

‘No way. Olivia… Breston… That’s… that’s my name!? I… I am dead?’

Janet returned back with a joyful meal in hand.

“Man! Jake sure have a knack for cooking! You’re a lucky one, Olivia!” Olivia didn’t respond, still deep in shock “Olivia?”

Olivia handed her the paper. Janet frowned before realization hit her. Surprisingly, she’s quite calm to react.

“So you found out. Any memory came back?”

Olivia shivered, shook her head.

“I survived, did I? So why… am I here? On this day, I was supposed to be found? But no?”

Janet moved next to her, sat down and comforted the confused girl.

“Do you want to know? Truly want to know?”

A silence between made the air thickened before Olivia gave a nod, reluctantly. Janet rubbed her shoulders soothingly.

“What you read is true. You are the only survivor of the S.S Harvey ship, a research ship directed by your father. You accompanied him on a field trip on 19th June when the ship got caught in bad weather, which later escalated into a sea storm. There was no news from the ship until…”

Janet pointed at the date and then at what supposedly to be warehouse, rather than what’s beside it. Needn’t to guess, Olivia could tell what Janet was trying to show her. But it didn’t explain everything that’s happening at the moment.

“I assume you’re wondering what’s happening right now. Care to take a blind guess?” Janet lighted a cig, savored that nicotine taste on the tip of her tongue before let out a wisp of white smoke.

“I died?”

“Eh, close enough. A coma. If you died, you wouldn’t be here to chit chat Livvy”

“Coma? But then, where am I?”

“Well, some might say it’s your subconscious so let just assume that it is. You didn’t die from the incident but drowning left you stranded in your brain, that’s all I could say.” Janet led her to the water. It seeped up close to their feet but it didn’t frighten Olivia no more

“I’m the fish of my own tank” Janet chuckled

“So you do remember”

“Yeah, I just got bits and bits of it. I chose to stay here, because there’s nothing out there for me, no one is waiting for me. At least I achieved my dream here, well, in a way” Olivia stepped back to clean sand, heart ached as she turned to Janet “Because in here I can see the one I held dear”

Janet tossed the burnt butt cig into the cool sand “Old habits die hard. You know, yet you still want to stay?”

“There’s no point going out there. I rather stay here”

“Alright, don’t keep Jake waiting on the dance floor.” Olivia headed back, blushed to the ear “After tonight, it’ll all be a bad dream”

“Wake up anew right?”

“Totally, Goldfish” Olivia’s shadow faded as now only Janet stood alone, water raised above her ankle. The way the ocean surging was unusual than before. There were whispers, cries lingered in the air. Moaned in pain. The thunder struck faraway on the surface warned the upcoming omen.

 “Time’s running out, Olivia”

--- Missielee ---

[neighborhoodgoblin]

May i please request some first date Harvey hcs?

Oooh ok!!!

Harvey can’t even entertain the idea of asking someone on a date unless he’s really REALLY sure they like him. He’s ~sensitive~ and if you say no he’ll spontaneously combust (doesn’t handle embarrassment well).

His spot for a date would likely be somewhere away from crowds and where no one could see. He’s not embarrassed of the farmer at all, but the people of Pelican Town can’t mind their business to save their lives and he’d rather not deal with it when he’s trying to have a good time.

He’d be really up for a picnic on the farm (he loves it out there) or a night in just hanging out and listening to music or watching a movie. He’d really prefer not to hang out at his apartment, he feels very cooped up in there and loves the expanse of the farm in comparison.

He’d probably bring over some kind of gift he undoubtedly got Maru to help pick out, or a dish that’s like the ONLY dish he knows how to make. It’s probably also a breakfast dish (because men can only cook breakfast) but he’s not gonna let that stop him. Catch him rolling up at 730PM with a casserole dish full of biscuits and gravy.

Doesn’t make ANY sort of move. If you want something to happen you have to initiate. He will WANT to make a move very badly but he’s too in his head. Supply wine if you want to loosen him up a little bit. Give him a whole bottle if you want to get fucking railed.

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

You NYT Minus Context posts, “punching. That, somehow, feels good to do right now” – and just imagine Matthew defending Alice’s honour. Like, if a man makes crude comments about her in front of Lawson (or maybe he overhears), my fangirl soul strongly believes that Matthew wouldn’t let the bastard get away with it… So, it’s like a prompt. Maybe Matthew gets into a fight and Alice tends to his wounds later (and emotional convesartion happens, probably)

Thank you, I loved this idea! Took me longer to finish writing it than I expected, but it has a bit of everything–drama and violence and love and a surprise ending. :)  

Matthew x Alice, The Doctor Blake Mysteries. Also on AO3.

Alice Harvey was the brightest, strangest woman he had ever met. She deserved better than she got.

Matthew threw the first punch, feeling the satisfying connection of his knuckles with the idiot’s jaw reverberate down his arm. The fact that it threw him off balance, making his entire body teeter dangerously on his cane, in no way lessened the satisfaction.

“So, you and the morgue doc?” Five seconds earlier, the sneer had dripped from the townie’s words. “Always thought the bitch was frigid, myself, but hey, good on you.”

He hadn’t even thought about it–hadn’t needed to. It was automatic. And maybe Matthew would’ve had the same reflex if he’d insinuated things about Jean, or his next door neighbor’s wife, who always brought him cookies at Christmas…but it wasn’t a friend or an honorary sister who’d been insulted to his face.

It was Alice.

So he swung.

The bloke went down, hard, bleeding lip to the dirt. Lawson was grateful that he managed to recover his balance, making it easier to look down at the man he’d clocked–who was only stunned a few moments before he jumped up and tackled Matthew with a shout.

Unwittingly, laying Matthew flat out on his back was doing him a favor: without needing to compensate for his weak knee, he had no trouble blocking most of the jabs that came his way, and landing a few more. If he wasn’t mistaken, his attacker would be leaving with a broken nose to remember him by.

Of course, getting off without a scratch would have required better luck than he had. One sneaky punch got him just under his ear, setting off an irritating ring that lingered long past the racing crowd breaking them apart and his counterpart being hauled away to the station for assaulting an officer.

“Technically, I started it,” he told Charlie, fingers gingerly probing the spot where the punch had landed.

“So…should I arrest you, too, then?” Charlie quirked an eyebrow, making Lawson chuckle.

“Don’t think that’s necessary. He was mouthing off.” He jerked a shoulder behind him. “Ethan heard it, you can ask him. He stopped me from doing worse.”

“Mouthing off,” Charlie repeated skeptically. “And you had to hit him?”

“Guess so.” He couldn’t explain it, and hoped Charlie wouldn’t ask further. Nobody else needed to know that his usually-ironclad control could be so easily demolished…or what was said.

That was certainly the last thing Alice needed.

He knew what she dealt with, working among so many inflated male egos. She put on a good show, a lifetime of walls carefully built and tended, but had let enough slip out to him in their months together that he could fill in the blanks.

It wasn’t right.

Her only crime had been quiet ambition, and a general oddness of demeanor that cared little for public opinion. He agreed privately, just as he’d agreed sympathetically in response, that she was a good doctor. That she didn’t deserve it.

Alice had sniffled those words, just that way; repeated them like a mantra, drunk on fancy wine he’d picked up for them in Melbourne. She wouldn’t tell him what’d happened that day, or with who, and it was probably for the best, he thought now as his hand started to swell.

He had kissed the corners of her mouth, up her cheekbones, lightly brushed his lips over her damp eyelids–all the while promising her she was right. Of course she didn’t deserve it, whatever it was. If his darkest suspicions on that subject made him clench his fists til his knuckles ached…she didn’t have to find out.

Alice Harvey was the brightest, strangest woman he had ever met. She deserved better than she got.

She deserved the best.

Honestly, he’d defend her entitlement to someone much better than him, as well. His words to Lucien weren’t much different from what he told himself, when they argued and Alice shut herself away in her flat and he set his pride aside to apologize, or accept hers, whichever came first.

Because God knew why, but Alice had chosen him, surly and damaged and prone to self-righteousness as he was…and all he could do was offer her his best.

So in the dim light of the morning, after every long shift, he climbed into their bed, curling around her the way she liked, nuzzling her neck with ‘good morning’ and 'I love you.’ And she arched back into him, every time, humming contentedly like he wasn’t the only one finally coming home.

Of course, as today was his day off, and they planned to meet for lunch after the race, any chance of affection was dashed when she got one look at his face and leapt to her feet. “Matthew Lawson, what on earth happened?”

He flinched. “It’s nothing. Looks worse than it is, sweetheart.” Making his way to their table, he sat, resigned to her seeking fingers as she crouched down to examine his face.

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” she countered, warming his face with her breath. Finally, she stopped poking at him, leaning back with a sigh.

“You’ll live,” Alice declared, kissing his temple before returning to her seat.

“Oh, good. For a minute there, I was worried.”

“Now–who’s the doctor here?”

He smirked. “You. But who sees all the dead bodies first?”

“You.” Her furrowed brow belied her concern. “So, what did happen?”

He tapped his foot, a subtle gesture of nerves that he could get away with around most people. Alice never missed a beat.

“Who did you hit?”

“Just some moron at the races.”

“Some moron?” Alice tilted her head, studying him. Matthew was a lot of things, but rash was rarely one of them.

Almost anyone else would have scolded him; the fact that it didn’t even occur to her was one of the things he appreciated about Alice. Even when it came to his most questionable impulses, she presumed his motives were good, without hesitation.

“Yeah.” He ran his hand along his jaw absently, trying to figure out how to explain without explaining.

“Did he get it worse?”

God, he loved her.

Matthew grinned. “Damn right he did.”

Cutting right to the heart of it, Alice pinned him with her deep green eyes. “Did he deserve it?”

He nodded, relieved. “He did.”

“All right, then.” She leaned down and grabbed her purse. “Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Home, of course. You need tending to.”

“I’m telling you, it’s fine.”

“It could get infected. Who’s the physician, again?”

He rolled his eyes. “You are. But I swear, it–”

She was already signaling the waiter. “Oh, be quiet. Even if it wasn’t inflamed and paining you–which it is, don’t lie to me–do you really think I want to eat lunch while you’re bleeding across from me?”

He laughed. “Not terribly appetizing?”

“Not much, no. So let’s go get you cleaned up, love. We can make our own lunch.”

“Not nearly as romantic,” Matthew pointed out as they left.

“It could be. You could cook for me.”

“I make a mean sandwich,” he pointed out, taking her hand with his free one.

“I know you do.”

He ignored the fact that she was obviously patronizing him. “Could light some candles, put on some music…”

Alice hummed approvingly. “Sounds lovely.”

“After you tend to me, we could tend to each other.”

She stopped Matthew where they stood, turning into him for a long, simmering kiss. “Sounds even better.”

Alice waited until they were walking again, his hand relaxed in hers, shoulders less tense than before.

“It was about me, wasn’t it.”

Not really a question. No one had ever known him as well as Alice.

“Yeah.”

He didn’t have to ask her not to press the matter further. She knew he’d avoided telling her for his own reasons; and after all this time, she had a pretty good idea what they were.

“Matthew?”

“Yes?”

“What do you think of getting married?”

“As a general idea, or…”

“To me, specifically.”

He kept walking, her hand in his, but he gripped it a little tighter. “I would have to say that I’m in favor–though I thought I would be the one doing the asking.”

“I wasn’t asking,” she reassured him. “Just curious.”

Alice was curious about more things in one day than he’d been in his entire life.

“Well, then. I’m for it.”

She smiled to herself as they made their way home. “Me too. Just for the record.”

Matthew kissed her hand.

“Noted.”

[mondriankite]

dearest eve @montpahrnah tagged me in this meme and I've just been sitting around having cinnamon tea this evening, so here are some answers!

fictional characters you relate to?

typically I'm drawn to characters who lean a little toward the melodramatic or struggle to articulate their feelings/emotions (sometimes fighting tooth and nail against emotional vulnerability) because I see aspects of my worst tendencies in them, but they're very often good/decent/caring people at heart and that's...reassuring? also, anyone who pretends to be a worn-out cynic (but isn't)

book you can read over and over without getting tired of?

echoing eve with the english patient (a true favorite), pretty much any poetry anne carson has written, the master and margarita, the ladies of grace adieu (I can't honestly say that I could or would want to read jonathan strange over and over because it's fucking enormous), a rose for emily (or any of faulkner's short stories), most tenneseee williams plays (but particularly the glass menagerie and cat on a hot tin roof)

what’s your favorite comfort show/movie?

hmm...spirited away, coraline, gravity falls, and over the garden wall are high on the list. I sometimes put on the pilot of twin peaks if I'm feeling really low because coop and those douglas firs make me smile. also, british comedy! i.t. crowd, spaced, and black books are life-savers, tbh.

which fictional character are you most defensive over?

I think eve's reply is in sync with my own - there's not a specific character I feel defensive of or want to use as a talking point, but generally the attitude toward and analysis of fictional women is uh...Bad

show you fell out of love with?

not sure I was very deeply in love with it, but I did watch gotham for a bit and wasn't keen on the direction it was taking (tho I think if it had just been 'harvey, jim, and alfred get drinks at a bar and then try to cook hollandaise' I would have been devoted for several seasons). also, american gods felt a bit disappointing but I did like the casting quite a lot

show you’re most excited for?

my list of 'to-watch someday' shows include: riverdale (mostly for madchen amick tbh), fargo (is it as good as the movie?), and dirk gently's holistic detective agency

what’s your aesthetic?

since I'm not sure whether this is about my writing aesthetic or my personal/fashion aesthetic, I'll just give both. I love trying to find a spot somewhere between poetry and prose in fiction, and I'm definitely still working on/toward this. I've no idea how to apply it to anything lengthy, but then, the writers I admire who manage to blend the two haven't written anything very lengthy, so I suppose it doesn't really lend itself to long novels. in fashion, I guess 'girl who doesn't own pumps but has twenty shades of lipstick' is my ~brand, as well as 'lusts-after-nice-button-downs-at-madewell' (my argonian name) and 'why can't I wear chelsea boots to your event???'

favorite fanfic tropes?

when both parties are desperately and achingly in love with each other but - due to insecurity, doubt, poor communication, etc etc - they keep fucking it up (in misery), until the situation reaches a breaking point. I live for drama

tagging: @symphony-in-silver @obiwoman @nasturtian @wolfinthethorns @deputy-hawk (if y'all want to)

[wearemozzerians]

Here’s today's full interview with Morrissey Official by 

Chrissy Iley for The Sunday Times:

I'm inside Morrissey’s hotel room at the Sunset Marquis, West Hollywood. It smells incensy, instantly exotic with a dangerous edge rather like the man himself. He’s in LA because he’s performing at the Hollywood Bowl and because Friday, November 10 has been declared Morrissey Day by the mayor of Los Angeles. He lived near here until a few years ago, but now he’s just visiting. Where does he live now? A sigh. “I’m in a different place all the time. I’m not sure why everyone wants to know where I live, what that says about me. It means my credit card is permanently blocked for security reasons. They think I’m an anonymous person if I’m never in the same place. I never ask people where they live, but they always ask me as if it would reveal anything about me. I’m here now, as you can see.” Because he’s performing. “Well … I don’t perform. I’m occasionally on a stage, but I don’t ever perform.” How very Morrissey. It’s as if he never wants to be really seen — except by tens of thousands every time he is on a stage, or when he makes one of his trademark outrageous comments, whether that’s about politics, or last week, defending Harvey Weinstein and Kevin Spacey (more of that later). He no longer lives in the house next to Johnny Depp? “No, he bought it to put his argumentative relatives in when they came to stay and since then I have been homeless. I just move around the world, which is a fascinating way to live. People say, ‘But surely you need your own kitchen.’ But I’ve managed for many years doing without.” Does he cook? “Yes I do, and it’s a very nice idea to have a kitchen ...” But room service will provide? “It tries, but it’s difficult sometimes. We don’t like to wait do we, really, for anything?” Does he travel light? “I have a sickening volume of possessions. They’re all stored away in different parts of the world waiting for that moment when I stop and buy a house and relax.” Does he ever relax? “No.” This is a moment where I want to tell him about the first time I heard his voice. So soul-curdling and deep-reaching when he sang How Soon Is Now? The Smiths are remembered by their fans with a huge amount of romanticism. It seems that they were around for ever, but in fact it was only five years — 1982 to 1987 — and four studio albums. But so many songs, such poetry that spoke for a generation about love and loss and waiting. Post Smiths, there was a series of solo albums, starting with Viva Hate, some of which were less loved. There was a dark autobiography in 2013 and a strange foray into novel writing — List of the Lost was reviewed as “turgid” and received the Bad Sex Award in 2015 for a scene describing a “giggling snowball of full-figured copulation”. But now Morrissey is back, as unconventional as ever. And with the release of the new album, Low in High School, he is on the radio, the television, that voice strangely more fluid and insistent than ever. Some of his views must jangle with his new generation of younger fans. He has said that he thought Brexit was magnificent, and the new single Jacky’s Only Happy When She’s Up on the Stage ends with a haunting chorus of “exit exit”, which some people have translated as “Brexit Brexit”. He denies it. “No, it’s not a Brexit song. There’s no Brexit in it,” he insists. “The line is, ‘All the audience head for the exit when she’s on stage’, so it’s nothing to do with Brexit. People just rush to stupid conclusions and create facts and create their own truths and slaughter the issue.” But he did say Brexit was magnificent, right? “I thought it was a fascinating strike for democracy, because the people said the opposite to Westminster, and that was extraordinary. David Cameron didn’t imagine the result could be as it was, but at least he did the honourable thing and slid away. The unfortunate thing is that politicians only speak to other politicians. They don’t speak to the people, so on that day their bubble burst. And now I don’t think Brexit has taken place, or even will, because Westminster don’t want it. It’s not that difficult. They’re just finding a way to not make it Brexit.” Is it true that he banned David Cameron from ever listening to a Morrissey-penned song? “No, that was never true, but these are the things I have to live with.” Big sigh. “I didn’t say it and it’s nice if everybody listens. It really is.” There’s nobody he wants to ban? “Well, only the obvious — the obvious international pest.” The orange one? “Yes.” “He’s beyond salvation. Beyond any help. The biggest security threat to America and the world. He’s like a two-year-old constantly reaching for something, damaging it and then moving on to something else and destroying it.” Indeed, the next day when I go to his show at the Hollywood Bowl, one of the backdrops is Morrissey holding a toddler with Trump’s head superimposed. A tiny tyrant. It goes down well. Morrissey is still mesmerising on stage as he lashes and whips his microphone cable. He gives us the songs that still speak to us even though they’re decades old. This audience — a diverse collection: black, white, brown; young, old and very young; men, women, gay, straight — seems to be with him all the way. No one minds that on Morrissey’s orders the only food sold is vegetarian. I’ve been to that same stadium many times and seen artists of similar years with pretentious trousers and hair plugs. I’ve seen them sing their old songs to a crowd of middle-aged spread. This concert was not like that. Though I could have done without the bit where the 58-year-old threw his jacket into the crowd and flaunted his unworked-out torso. But it was unselfconsciously done. On the sofa in his hotel room we sip bottled water and he asks me if I would like anything more dangerous. I suggest a coffee. He shrugs in despair. “That’s not what I meant.” The new album has created a buzz. “It feels good. People always want their latest offspring to be the cutest, I believe,” he says. He doesn’t have children. He has songs. Does he have a particular track that’s more important than the others? “No. I mean if you gave birth to quads you wouldn’t say which quad is the best one, would you? You would love all your quads equally for different reasons.” I tell him I’ve got four cats. “There. I rest my case. I bet you don’t pick one out and say you’re the one I love and boot the others in the linen cupboard.” We chat about how Russell Brand’s cat is called Morrissey. “Yes, and he’s still alive. I don’t mean Russell — I mean the cat. He is getting on now: I do mean Russell. I don’t mean the cat.” I read that Brand named the cat Morrissey because he’s an awkward bugger. He grins. “There you go. You should have guessed that one straight away.” But however difficult he can be — for instance, during the preparation of this article he spends four days saying he will do a photo shoot and then doesn’t — he is having a moment in the spotlight. “It’s certainly a moment that might annoy many people, but here I am and I offer no apologies and no excuses.” Hmm. The first single on the album, Spent the Day in Bed, has had more airplay in America than any Morrissey track ever. “I don’t spend the day in bed often but people love their beds,” he says. He advises several times that people shouldn’t stay in bed and watch the news because it is so depressing. He should know: Morrissey has spent much of his life depressed. Surely that’s where quite a few of the hits came from. “Years ago I sang a song called Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now, and it’s like an old school uniform. People insist I wear it, but I’m really not that miserable. I’m not an unhappy person. Not in the least. I’m certainly very surprised and very pleased to still be here.” I’m wondering if his new resolution to appreciate life had anything to do with it nearly being taken away. He is in remission from oesophagus cancer. “I’d had quite a few scares and was on a lot of extreme medication. I lost a lot of hair. You can be as healthy as possible, but something will always get you in the end. I thought, here we go. Just accept it, but I’ve done very well. I’m not on any medication now.” And his hair is back — greying — and the Morrissey superquiff is perhaps not as super as it once was. “It’s real. A lot of people my age don’t have hair. They don’t have teeth, so I feel quite blessed.” Following his diagnosis in 2014, he “had a lot of scrapings, but they weren’t all painful”. Wasn’t he worried a procedure involving the scraping of his oesophagus would affect his voice? “No, incredibly,” he laughs. “In fact my voice is better, absolutely better than it was. I had to give up 150 things, from red wine and beyond, but that was OK because I don’t really like red wine. When you sit before a doctor and they use the c-word you hear it but you don’t hear it. You just say, ‘Ah, yes,’ as if it’s something you hear every day. Your mind goes into this funny little somewhere and you say, ‘Ah, yes,’ as if you knew it all along.” I’m not sure that’s how most of us would react, but then he’s always been one of these people who seem to be able to dislocate himself from his own being. “Giving up red wine was meaningless to me anyway.” Doesn’t he drink alcohol? “Just not red wine.” He also has a dislike of mushrooms. “Oh they are horrific, fungus — truffles make me cry. I say to people, ‘What are you doing eating fungus?’ Truffles shock me and the smell. Ewwww. Garlic is also horrific.” Morrissey’s superfood of choice is potatoes. “I’ve never had a curry and I’ve never had a coffee. I’ve never wanted one and I’ve never been handed one. I have Ceylon tea, very, very weak with an alternative milk. Cashew milk is beautiful. Dairy farms all over England are collapsing. Non-dairy milk is now 51% of the market, which is fantastic.” Thirty-two years ago, when he first sang Meat Is Murder, veganism was rare. A vegan diet was difficult to maintain. Now, vegan food is in supermarkets. “What about champagne?” he says. I’m not sure if he’s offering to crack open a bottle, but I hate champagne. “I’ve never met anybody that hated champagne,” he says. I’ve never met anybody that hasn’t drunk coffee or eaten curry, I ripost. “I don’t like any food where the following day you can still taste it or you smell of it or your clothes smell of it. I’m very, very bland as far as food is concerned,” he says. It is as if the psyche of Morrissey is so piquant, he needs to balance it with food that tastes of nothing. Not only has he never had an onion bhaji — “I’ve never had an onion. That would make me cry. It’s just too eye-crossing. I’m strictly bread and potatoes.” Not for the first time, the conversation drifts back to politics. Does he think Trump will be impeached? “It’s a long time coming and there have been multiple reasons and it hasn’t happened. It’s a shocking reflection on American politics. I understand people wanting somebody who is nonpolitical, who is not part of a system. But not him. They thought that he was something he absolutely is not. Surely people realise it now. Everything he says is divisive. It’s meant to be. It’s meant to distract you.” He is similarly disparaging about Theresa May. “She won’t answer questions put to her. She’s not leadership [material]. She can barely get to the end of her own sentence. Her face quakes. She’s hanging on by the skin of her teeth. She has negotiations about negotiations about negotiations about the EU. I’m not a Conservative, but I can see she’s actually blocking the Conservative Party from moving on and becoming strong. But as we know, politicians do not care about public opinion. And she wants to bring back fox hunting.” This is not only “cruel and disgraceful”, but signifies that May is “out of step and not of the modern world”. Morrissey loves talking about politics, there’s always an opinion. But then he says: “I’m nonpolitical. I always have been. I’ve never voted in my life.” At the last election there was a story going round that Morrissey voted Ukip. In fact, at a concert earlier this year, he appeared to support Anne-Marie Waters, an outspoken Ukip politician with anti-Muslim views, claiming the party’s leadership contest had been rigged against her. He is the most political nonpolitical person on the planet. He’s shy, except in front of thousands. He writes about love, but only admits to one proper relationship — with Jake Walters, a boxer from east London. They lived together from 1994 to 1996. When he was in the Smiths he declared himself celibate and said he hated sex. After Walters, he discussed having a baby with Tina Dehghani, a friend whom he met while living in Los Angeles, and in his autobiography he refers to a relationship with an Italian whom he calls Gelato. He’s said in the past he’s only attracted to people who aren’t interested in him. He’s never been on a date. He only writes about wanting to be loved. Many contradictions. “Well, I’m human. I’m not interested in being part of anything. I don’t see a party that speaks to me and I haven’t ever. My vote is very precious. I won’t use it just to get rid of somebody I don’t like because they’re all absolutely the same.” Does he think Jeremy Corbyn is the same? “He has had many opportunities to take a strike against Theresa May and he has resisted. It’s hard to believe that this is the best England can produce at this stage of the game. We survived Thatcher by the skin of our teeth, and somehow we’re all still alive and we are presented with Theresa May and Jeremy Corbyn.” I laugh, and he corrects me: “It’s a tragedy. The UK is in a state of cultural tragedy, dominated by political correctness. Nobody tells the truth about anything. If you tell the truth in England, you’ll lose your job.” This is not a rule, however, Morrissey feels applies to him. I ask him about the behaviour of Harvey Weinstein and Kevin Spacey who are both accused of multiple cases of sexual misdemeanours. He is in no mood to condemn them. “You must be careful as far as ‘sexual harassment’ is concerned, because often it can be just a pathetic attempt at courtship.” Most people wouldn’t see the kind of behaviours these sexual predators are accused of as in any way “courtship”. But Morrissey is undeterred. As this interview went to press it emerged that he’d told the German magazine Der Spiegel that the claims against Kevin Spacey — one of which alleges a sexual relationship with a 14-year-old boy — were “ridiculous” and argued, as he did with me, that definitions of harassment and assault have become too broad. “Kevin Spacey was 26, boy 14. One wonders where the boy’s parents were,” Morrissey said. “One wonders if the boy did not know what would happen.” On Weinstein, he said to Der Spiegel that some of the movie mogul’s alleged victims: “play along”. “Afterwards, they feel embarrassed or disliked. And then they turn it around and say, ‘I was attacked, I was surprised.’ But if everything went well, and if it had given them a great career, they would not talk about it.” He added: “I hate rape. I hate attacks. I hate sexual situations that are forced on someone. But in many cases one looks at the circumstances and thinks that the person who is considered a victim is merely disappointed.” Our conversation covers similar ground. When I ask him about these sexual attacks he says: “I’m sure it’s horrific, but we have to keep everything in proportion. Do you not agree? I have never been sexually harassed, I might add.” Perhaps that is why he seems so unsympathetic. Morrissey’s sexuality has always been a point of some discussion. Is it still true, I ask, that he doesn’t identify as heterosexual, homosexual or bisexual but, as he puts it, “humoursexual”? “No, humasexual as in we’re all humans.” Oh, I thought it was only about sleeping with people that you had a laugh with. “That would dramatically limit things, but certainly I think we are obsessed with labels, obsessed with knowing where we stand with other people, what we can expect them to do, and it doesn’t make any difference really.” Just like veganism, he insists, being sexually fluid and gender fluid is now much more accepted. “It’s extraordinary. People seem to be very relaxed by it.” But when Morrissey announced his humasexuality in 2013, he was a lonely voice. “Yes, I was. I spearheaded the movement. I know no other way, so nothing has changed for me, but the rest of the world leaps on. I am pleased because I want people to be happy. There is an expiration date on our lives on this planet. You have to be yourself and hopefully get some happiness from it. It seems everybody, in every respect of their lives, is coming out of their cupboard saying this is the person I’d like to be. I want to wear these clothes, not those that have been imposed on me. As long as nobody’s harmed, I think it’s good.” Is it true that he’s never been on a date? “Yes, I’ve never been on a traditional date. I’m not that kind of person.” No one’s ever said I’d like to take you to dinner? “No, never. But I’m happy with my vocation.” What does he mean by vocation? “I’m very interested in the singing voice. I’m very interested in making a difference in music, not simply being successful.” Isn’t it possible to do that and have a date? “No. I’ve never found it to be so.” It’s one or the other? “Well, life leads me. Does it lead you? Are you successful at the cost of something else?” I’m quite shocked by his question. I suggest that it’s not valid because I’m not really successful. He says, “Well you’re not working at KFC, are you?”and laughs a conspiratorial laugh. He’s interested in the way journalism has changed. “The Guardian, you can’t even meet them halfway. They are like The Sun in 1972. So obstinate. They don’t want to talk to you. They want to correct you. You can’t simply say, ‘This is how I feel,’ because they’ll say, ‘How you feel is wrong.’ And they’ll say, ‘He’s racist. He should be shot, he should be drowned.’ It’s very difficult to sit down with somebody and simply convey your feelings. In a democracy you should be able to give your opinion about anything. We must have debate, but that doesn’t happen any more. Free speech has died. Isn’t modern journalism about exposing people? When I was young I saw a documentary accidentally about the abattoir and I fell into an almost lifelong depression. I couldn’t believe I lived in a society that allowed this. The abattoir is no different to Auschwitz.” The tack back to animals reminds me he was once voted Britain’s second most important cultural icon by the audience of BBC 2’s The Culture Show, after David Attenborough. “It was beautiful but I don’t know about Attenborough’s regard for animals,” he says. “He often uses terms like ‘seafood’ and there’s no such thing as seafood. It’s sea life, and he talks about ‘wildlife’ and it’s free life. Animals are not wild simply because we pathetic humans haven’t shoved them in a cage, so his terminology is often up the pole.” I tell him one of my favourite songs on the album is Israel. It’s a romantic hymn to the country. How did that come about? “I have made many trips there and I was given the keys to Tel Aviv by the mayor. Everybody was so very nice to me and I’m aware that there’s a constant backlash against the country that I could never quite understand. I feel people are judging the country by its government, which you shouldn’t do. You can’t blame the people for the rulership. Israel is beautiful.” Steven Patrick Morrissey was born and raised in Manchester. A lapsed Catholic, he went to a religious school. Manchester in the 1960s and 1970s was damp, somewhere he wanted to escape from. Part of that escape was through television — and soap operas. He was once offered a part in EastEnders, but turned it down. “I was invited to be Dot Cotton’s other son, a mysterious son no one had ever spoken about, who returns to the Square, doesn’t get involved with anybody and doesn’t immediately have sex with anybody as most characters who come into the Square do.” So basically he’d have played himself. “Yes. I didn’t do it.” Is it too late? “For many things, yes … I was also offered a part in Emmerdale. I was to play an intruder in jodhpurs — which I’d longed to be, of course, I had waited years to be an intruder in jodhpurs — an intruder at Home Farm, but I refused to wear the jodhpurs. As they say, it’s nice to be asked.” He has no ambitions to act, his time occupied with the new album and a tour that will include China, Australia and Europe. China has one of the worst records for human and animal rights in the world, I point out. “You can’t simply fold your arms and say I’m not going to China because of the cat and dog trade, which is absolutely tearful, but hopefully your presence can make a difference,” he says. His only problem with not living anywhere is he has no animal companion. “My best friends have been cats. I had one cat for 23 years and one for 22. They just walked into the house, one when I was a small child and one when I was slightly older. I won’t say they were like children, because I don’t know any children that are actually nice. They were black-and-white and called Buster and Tibby. Tibby had been kicked in the face so he had to be fed by hand. He couldn’t eat from a plate. He required a lot of patience but he cured himself and became a healthy, incredibly happy cat. They certainly enriched my life.” It’s been hours now. Morrissey is too polite to end our meeting and I feel if I don’t end it I may never leave. For me, meeting Morrissey is like meeting a battered, black-and-white alley cat. Sure, he’s not to everyone’s taste. But that is the highest compliment I could ever give — although Morrissey is the only one who could recognise it as such.

The Sunday Times Magazine - Interview by Chrissy Iley:https://t.co/0rq4KHtItW 

We Are Mozzerians.

[eloiseduval]

practice challenge 1

a/n: here’s my first practice challenge! hope you all enjoy <3

It was way too hot.

Fall was supposed to begin soon, but of course in the desert it didn’t even begin to cool down until November.

Which meant I was sweating like a dog as I walked over to Selena’s house a couple blocks away from my own. Why I agreed to walk over during the middle day with the scorching sun beating down on my back was beyond me.

“Elle! Finally, took you long enough,” Selena said, grabbing my arm as I walked up the pathway to her house. She had been waiting for me, sunglasses perched on her nose and an ice-cold soda in one hand.

I rolled my eyes, “You’re just impatient.”

“And you’re very sweaty,” she remarked, closing the door behind us. I let out a relieved breath as the cool air washed over my face, happy to be out of the heat.

“Wonder why,” I said drily, shooting her a pointed look. She ignored it and pushed the cherry red frames onto her head, gesturing to follow her down the hallway to her room.

“Is that you, Eloise?” I heard a voice call out from the living room on my left. I stopped and popped my head in, smiling when I saw Selena’s mom relaxing on the couch, a book in her hands.

“Hi Isabelle. How are you?”

“Oh, just fine dear. And how’s your mom?” she asked, brushing her dark hair back from her face.

I shrugged with a small smile, “Nothing new to report.”

She laughed, “Same as always, your mom. And how’s your-”

“Mom,” Selena said, interrupting her mom with a sigh, her head popping up next to me as well.

“Alright, I get it. You girls have fun,” she said with a smile. I waved and followed Selena back to her room. As we stepped through the doorway I noted the abundance of clothes scattered all around the room, moving some out of my way as I plopped down onto her bed.

“Clean much?” I asked.

“But if I cleaned, then I wouldn’t know where anything was. Organized chaos,” she explained, throwing some clothes onto her desk, setting down her soda, and curling up next to me on the bed.

I laughed and shook my head, wondering how she managed to keep track of anything in the mess she called her room.

“So, you got yours right?” she asked excitedly, rolling onto her stomach. I nodded, knowing what she was referring to.

“I already filled mine out. I’m going tomorrow to turn it in. You’ve filled yours out, right?” she poked my shoulder.

I shook my head, “No, not yet.”

Her jaw dropped, “Why?”

“I’m still...thinking about I guess.”

She sighed, “You’re the one who always said that you wanted to do more with your life. Maybe this is your chance, Elle. Especially after Alex...” her voice trailed off, unsure how I would react at the mention of my brother.

“Believe me, I know. It’s just... is this really the right way to do that?” I questioned.

My parents owned one of the most successful record labels in all of Illéa, Duval Studios. I had grown up around countless music artists, sneaking into the recording studios as a little girl, even learning how to play guitar and sing just from watching the artists. I wanted to be just like them. As a Four, it wouldn’t exactly be possible, but I held out hope that someday something would change and I would be able to pursue my passion.

My older brother Alex had been groomed since he was little to take over the business someday. That’s what had been the plan, at least, until one day he announced he was giving it up, and instead going to culinary school to become a chef. We had always known he loved to cook, but it affected me the most because now I was set to take over the business someday. Our relationship had been rocky ever since he made that announcement a couple years ago.

I hated the business side of Duval Studios. I watched my dad handle everything, and knew I could never do that, watching so many other artists do what they love while I was stuck behind the glass, managing instead of creating. I had resigned myself to the idea of becoming the CEO one day, so instead I threw myself into volunteer work, using my privilege to fight for others who didn’t. It killed me to see other people just like me, limited by their caste when they had no passion or desire to do what they were expected to. I wanted to change that. I would jump on any opportunity I could, but the Selection? I wasn’t sure that was my chance to do what I hoped.

“Of course it is!” Selena exclaimed, “Think about it. You could go, meet the prince, maybe even fall in love, and be in a position where you can finally make a difference for all those charities you help out with. And if not the prince, he has that cute friend of his, Jace.” She said, waggling her eyebrows.

I laughed, but her words made me think. She was right, this could be my chance to really make a difference for others. To experience something new and exciting, something I had always craved. Selena and I always managed to have plenty of fun on our own, but this was something completely different.

“Huh,” I said, not sure what else to say. She flipped her hair with a confident look.

“I know, I’m a genius.” I rolled my eyes and shoved her shoulder. She giggled then changed the subject, talking about a party a friend of hers was having across town Saturday night, one that of course we would just have to go to.

***

The next evening, I was exhausted as I walked through the front door after a day of helping out at the women’s shelter downtown. It was satisfying, but I was always drained at the end of the day.

“Ella, mi amor, is that you?” I heard my mother’s voice called out from the living room.

“Yeah mom,” I replied, kicking off my shoes and walking over to the living room, hearing the Harvey Steve’s voice for the Report on the TV. I had forgotten it was a Friday night.

I plopped down next to my mom, leaning into her with a sigh. My younger sister Giselle was curled up next to our dad on the other couch, absorbed at the sight of the royal family on the Report. The King and Queen had just spoken, the camera now shifting over to Prince Nate.

“And so, your highness, how are you feeling about the upcoming Selection? Excited, no?” Harvey gave a suggestive glance at the camera, eliciting a laugh from the audience.

He smiled politely and gave a simple response, not giving too much away. I couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have complete strangers come into your home and try to fall in love with one of them, all while the whole country is watching. Must have been terrifying.

And now I’m going to try and be a part of that.

I shook my head at the thought, drawing the attention of my dad.

“Doing all right over there?” he asked. I smiled in reassurance.

“Fine, just…thinking,” I responded vaguely.

He raised an eyebrow, “About the Selection I’m assuming.” I nodded sheepishly.

“I figured. And as much as I want you to stay here, I know how much you would want to try and be a part of that,” he said with a shrug. I raised my eyebrows, surprised.

“Really? I didn’t even know I wanted to until yesterday.”

“You’re my daughter, Eloise. I’d say I know you pretty well,” he said with a smirk. I laughed and rolled my eyes. I felt my mom lift up her arm and set it across my shoulders, squeezing gently. I looked over at her and smiled gratefully, knowing how much that small gesture meant.

“And what about you, bug? You thinking about putting your name into the lot?” my dad asked my sister, bumping her shoulder slightly. She blushed and shrugged, but I could tell how much she wanted to. She was so painfully shy, but once you got to know her, she was one of the sweetest girls you could ever meet. At barely sixteen, Giselle was starting to catch the attention of the local boys - she was gorgeous but had no idea - except she had absolutely no idea how to deal with it. I couldn’t imagine her at the center of the media if she were to be selected, especially talking to the handsome princes, though I know how much she longed for it.

“You should do it,” I encouraged, giving her a small smile. She returned it, but didn’t say anything more.

“We’ll go tomorrow. How’s that sound?” I asked. Her eyes widened, but she nodded. I could see the excitement in her eyes just at the thought. I hoped she would be picked instead of me, an experience like that could really do her some good.

“I’m going to go fill out my application right now,” she declared, standing up suddenly and running off to her room.

“What will I do without both of my hijas, hm?” my mother asked with a small laugh. I shook my head with a smile and leaned back into her, watching the rest of the Report in comfort.

***

Later that night I couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t unusual, I was such a night owl that I usually stayed up talking to Selena or other friends on my phone if I wasn’t out doing something with them. There was the curfew, but we always managed never to get caught. Most Fours didn’t have cell phones, but with the family business being so successful, we were able to afford some extra luxuries.

Tonight, though, I couldn’t stop thinking about Prince Nathaniel. He had always been a noticeable, but quiet presence growing up. Someone we giggled about as little girls, and the object of plenty of swooning from my friends as we got older, except I never really thought about him much. Up until now, that is. He was handsome, that much was obvious, and he always seemed kind enough. Though that pretty much summed up what I knew about him, besides the fact that he also loved music.

Maybe we can bond over that.

I laughed at myself, pushing the thought away, knowing that my odds of getting picked were slim to none. Although that didn’t stop me from dreaming of long, winding hallways filled with bright sunshine glinting off the pristine marble walls, a crowd of girls wearing beautiful gowns giggling together as they walked through the same hallway.

The next morning, I knew I had dreamed of the palace. The thought made me so unexpectedly happy, that I pictured the same hallway with the same girls as I smiled at the camera for my application, hoping I looked as happy as I felt.

Hoping that next week, my name would be the last one called out by the prince’s voice.

Miss Eloise Camila Duval of Zuni, Four.

[zipgrowth]

Tips and Scoops from ASU GSV That You Won’t Find on the Agenda

What was once a sleepy conference at Arizona State University that charged $50 for attendance has now become ground zero for dealmaking in the education technology industry. (A ticket for this year costs nearly $3,200.)

Silicon Valley loves to talk about scale, and the ASU GSV conference has achieved that. Now in its 10th year, the show has grown from 350 attendees in its first year to more than 4,700 this week. It’s become known as the edtech industry’s rendezvous for investors and bankers—although it wasn’t always this way. “It was really hard to attract investors [in the beginning], because investors didn’t care about education technology,” says Deborah Quazzo, managing partner of GSV Acceleration and a key organizer of the show.

How times have changed. The ASU GSV conference stands out for being unabashedly capitalist, in the sense that everyone believes that delivering on profits and student outcome can go hand-in-hand. Increasingly, educators and administrators seem onboard with that premise as well as their presence at the event has grown. Here’s how the attendee demographics have grown from 2010 to 2018.

Total Attendees: 350 to 4700

Educators: 30 to 750

Entrepreneurs: 53 to 375 (there are likely many more who did not register but hung around at the hotel)

Investors: 65 to 400

It’s very easy to feel FOMO, across all the panels, keynotes, workshops, receptions and serendipitous meetings in the hallways. Here’s what we heard and overheard:

Imposter Syndrome

Plenty of attendees walked the halls with their game faces on, confidently pitching some new startup or project to whoever will listen. So it seemed a bit surprising to see a self-help session about “Imposter Syndrome” on the agenda, packed with advice for people who feel “inadequate, intellectually fraudulent, or inferior at work.”

Then again, a key point of the session was that such feelings are surprisingly common among leaders in the tech sector.

Emily Anhalt, a clinical psychologist who calls herself an “emotional fitness consultant,” led the session, and she started by asking the audience of about 60 people: Who has felt like a phony?

A majority of hands went up. And that was clearly what she expected.

“We compare ourselves to everyone,” she says, noting that it’s how we’re wired as humans. And social media feeds on our worst instincts when it comes to self-esteem. “Don’t compare yourself behind the scenes to everyone else’s highlight reel,” she said, pointing out that we see our own flaws but are rarely privy to the flaws of others when watching their Facebook, Instagram or Twitter feeds.

She did note that imposter syndrome is more common in women and people of color, since society already signals to these groups that their ideas are somehow less valued. To that point, the audience was disproportionately female and minority.

Among her tips for avoiding feeling like an imposter: Talk honestly about such feelings. “By saying something out loud you create a little bit of space to think, ‘Is it really true?’”

Also, don’t take professional criticism personally. When the boss says that your work is not good, don’t construe that to mean you’re not good. “Especially in tech, our work and our personal lives can feel one and the same,” she adds. “It’s really important to have some sense of agency and hobbies and relationships outside of work, so when things are shaky in one part of your life, it doesn’t feel like it’s completely rocking the foundations of your entire identity.”

And in leadership situations, be careful not to encourage feelings of imposter syndrome in others. Part of that, she said, is being transparent and acknowledging your own privilege.

“How powerful would it be if a CEO who just sold his company for a million dollars got on the microphone and said: ‘I worked really hard for this. But I was also born into a fairly well-to-do family and my parents gave me my first investment, which made it a lot easier to start this company,’” Anhalt said, drawing laughter from the crowd. “It’d be pretty powerful, and we don’t do that enough. Just by acknowledging your own privilege, you’re doing a service to the people who come after you.”

She is confidently co-founding a new startup called Beam, which she calls “a gym for the mind.”

Frontline Seeks a New Frontman

Frontline Education, which offers a slew of administrative and human resources software for K-12 districts, is seeking a new CEO. Its previous chief, Tim Clifford, retired in March, and the search for his replacement is underway. Charles Goodman, chairman of Frontline’s board of directors, is interim CEO.

Under Clifford, the company has made a dozen acquisitions that greatly expanded Frontline’s product suite. These deals also pumped up its valuation as well. When its previous owner, Insight Venture Partners, acquired the company in 2014, it was worth about $130 million. In 2017, Frontline sold to Thoma Bravo for $1.3 billion—which begs the question: How much will its next buyer fork out?

Expect the company to continue its tried-and-true strategy of acquiring assets. Greg Doran, Frontline’s chief financial officer, says it’s a safe bet that the company will snap up more assets later this year.

Another University Goes Venturing

Western Governors University (WGU) is an investor in a new education fund focused on postsecondary services. Dubbed New U Ventures, the fund will be managed by EPIC Ventures, a Utah-based venture firm whose previous deals include Instructure, the publicly-traded LMS company.

New U Ventures is currently in the process of closing the first fund, with a target of $120 million, from which it will make early-stage and growth investments.

According to its website, New U is eyeing products and services that “redefine a post-secondary education that supports the future of work, improves quality, expands access, and optimizes outcomes for the next century.” Portfolio companies will also have the opportunity to test products with WGU’s network of students and it’s incubator lab, which conducts efficacy evaluations.

Launching investment funds seems to be the trend du jour for higher-ed institutions. In 2018, the company that operates Strayer Education and Capella University launched a $5 million seed fund. A year earlier, Southern New Hampshire University and Rethink Education started a $15 million fund.

The Cringiest Moment May Go to...

...a panel about diversity. During a session about the low representation of women in computer science, a man in the back of the room interrupted in the middle of the conversation. (This wasn’t during the Q&A portion.)

The audience member chimed in to say that the lack of diversity in CS relates to shortages in student advising and counseling, and he pointed to an upcoming documentary on the topic. One panelist addressed the situation by telling him that he was “mansplaining,” while some audience members cringed and groaned before the moderator reined the conversation back in.

The audience member who spoke out was Joe Besecker, founder and CEO of Emerald Asset. And while Lewis and other panelists said they did not have an issue with his idea, the way he interrupted the all-women panel was upsetting and missed the point. “I agreed with him saying part of the problem is in advising, and that’s right,” said Judith Spitz, a panelist and founding program director at WiTNY. “But it’s not what he said, it’s the fact that he yelled it out in the middle of the session.”

“I don’t know if he heard any of the words we said, or me specifically trying to correct his behavior,” said Colleen Lewis, an associate professor of computer science at Harvey Mudd College who was also on the panel. “I feel like this is so common, I’m like ‘Oh gosh this again, really?’”

As it turned out, Besecker on a panel Tuesday called “Beyond Lip Service: The Investment Case for Diversity.” During this talk, Besecker mentioned Monday’s snafu, telling his audience that he felt silenced. And after his panel, he told EdSurge he felt that “there is a natural bias in today’s society against the white male.” (Oh, the irony.)

Spitz, who previously served as CIO for Verizon, said she has experienced similar situations throughout her career. “Being interrupted that way is something that is all too common for women in tech. I’ve seen it throughout my career and it is something that needs to be addressed.”

Funding Fury

GSV Acceleration has closed on a new fund. Pearson is launching its own. And word on the street is that University Ventures is cooking up something new as well.

But the award for the most sassy name for a new education fund goes to Dunce Capital, which is led by John Danner. Previously, he co-founded Rocketship Education, a charter school network based in California, and later went to start his own edtech company, Zeal. That company fizzled, but Danner remains an active angel investor in the industry, having personally invested in Epic!, Juni Learning, Lambda School, Outschool, Padlet and Swing Education. (He’s already written publicly about what he’s eyeing.)

Dunce Capital’s first investment is SV Academy, which operates a 12-week program for training people to fill sales and marketing roles for technology companies.

Awards

Each conference, ASU GSV hands out awards for noteworthy educators and entrepreneurs. This year’s recipients include:

Geoffrey Canada, founder of the Harlem’s Children Zone, received the GSV Lifetime Achievement Award.

Michael Sorrell, President of Paul Quinn College, received the Innovator of Color Award.

Frida Polli (CEO and co-founder of Pymetrics), Christine Willig (CEO of Illuminate Education) and Jessie Woolley-Wilson (CEO of DreamBox Learning) received the #PowerofWomen Award for guiding their companies to major financing transactions.

Tips and Scoops from ASU GSV That You Won’t Find on the Agenda published first on https://medium.com/@GetNewDLBusiness

[markwatkinsconsumerguide]

Consumer Guide / No.71 / Eleanor Kleiner, band member with The Whispering Tree, with Mark Watkins.      

MW : Why “The Whispering Tree” and how did you meet?

EK : We met at music school in London and were playing together all the time in classes. We eventually started writing together and rearranging some of my original material as a duo. We were just throwing names around and "The Whispering Tree" stuck. At the risk of sounding like a weirdo, I've had some experiences where I've felt the natural world communicating to me, and I often feel the same way about music. There’s more being communicated in a song than just the lyrical content - the melody, instrumentation, performance and lyrics all work together to create a message. 

MW : Tell me about the new album, ‘Invisible Forces’... 

EK : So far, we've self-produced all of our albums, including the new one, ‘Invisible Forces’. For this new album we decided to record the bulk of the instruments at our home studio so we had more control, and more time to experiment. We chose the album name because it seemed to apply to all the songs in one way or another. Whether it's a song about decay and impermanence, or a song about people in power manipulating the public, "invisible forces" are at play. 

MW : What it's like to whistle-stop towns/cities and eat “on route”? 

EK : You lose track of time on tour, and days tend to blur together. There's an adjustment period of two or three days where I'm extra stressed because I’m out of my comfort zone - there are so many social interactions and you have to be "on" a lot. Then eventually I acclimate to it and get into a groove, and in the end I’m sad when it’s over. 

We're very picky eaters so we spend most of our time searching for good food and coffee. I don't know how people survived on the road before smartphones. I get really tired of eating out and miss home cooked food. There's a place we've played a few times in The Netherlands and the owner is a former chef. Every time we go there he prepares us a three course meal, it's amazing! 

MW : Do you have much of a record collection at home? 

EK : We don't own any records. I'd like to buy a record player and start playing vinyl but I haven't done it yet because streaming is so convenient and cheap. We used to have a lot of CDs, but every time we move house we get into a cleaning frenzy and start throwing things out. We kept some CDs for sentimental reasons, or for the artwork... but who knows if they'll survive the next move. 

I haven't looked at my collection in so long! The only thing I know I still have is the Nirvana discography, including some rare B-sides and cassette tapes, and a Smashing Pumpkins box set from the 90's -but I don't listen to any of them, they’re just collecting dust. 

MW : Do you have a favourite Steely Dan album? 

EK : No, not a fan of Steely Dan. When they come on the radio I change the channel, so I’ve never actually listened to a whole album. 

MW : List your Top 20 albums of all-time in order of preference, and tell me a little about your No.9 and No.18 choices... 

EK : This is such a hard question! I know I’m forgetting so many incredible albums, and so this is just a rough approximation of the order - but here’s a general idea:- 

1/ The Beatles - ‘White Album’ (1968) 

2/ The Beatles - ‘Abbey Road’ (1969) 

3/ The Beatles - ‘Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band’ (1967) 

4/ Aimee Mann - ‘Lost In Space’ (2002)

5/ Pink Floyd - ‘The Wall’ (1979) 

6/ PJ Harvey - ‘Let England Shake’ (2011)

7/ Tori Amos - ‘Little Earthquakes’ (1992)

8/ Gillian Welch - ‘Soul Journey’ (2003) 

9/ Radiohead - ‘OK Computer’ (1997)

I was 14 or 15 when this album came out and it blew my mind. It perfectly communicates this sense of alienation I was feeling at the time – and still feel, if I’m being honest. 

10/ Radiohead - ‘The Bends’ (1995) 

11/ Lucinda Williams - ‘Car Wheels On A Gravel Road’ (1998) 

12/ Nirvana - ‘In Utero’ (1993) 

13/ Blitzen Trapper - ‘Destroyer of the Void’ (2010)

14/ Mavis Staples - ‘We'll Never Turn Back’ (2007)

15/ Smashing Pumpkins - ‘Melancholy & The Infinite Sadness’ (1995)

16/ Paul Simon - ‘Graceland’ (1986)

17/ Phish - ‘Billy Breathes’ (1996)

18/ Dr. John - ‘Locked Down’ (2012) 

19/ The Traveling Wilburys - ‘Vol. 1’ (1988) 

The best supergroup as far as I’m concerned. This is just a solid album with so many great songs and voices. It was a staple of my childhood. 

20/ Dave Matthews Band – ‘Before These Crowded Streets’ (1998) 

MW : What do you like to collect, and why? 

EK : I have a teaspoon collection: which started when I was 8 or 9. I just thought they looked cute and now people keep giving them to me (I don’t even really want them anymore!)

MW : If you could only a) "Go West" (like the Village People), or b) Look East (like Jackson Browne) - where would you go?

 EK :

a) I love revisiting the Netherlands, Germany, and the UK every year on tour, and we make sure to take some time off to explore. I would like to revisit Hong Kong, Macau, and mainland China. We lived in Macau for 6 months (about ten years ago), and it would be interesting to see how much it’s changed. We visited Tibet and Yangshuo, which were beautiful and I’d like to go back and see more of the country. I’d also like to re-visit the Southwest of the United States, Peru, and Bolivia.

b) It’s easier to list the places I would NOT like to visit, but I don’t want to offend anyone, so here are just a few places that are on my list: Tahiti, Croatia, Japan, Thailand, New Zealand, Alaska, Chile, and Ecuador.

MW : What personal items do you regret throwing away? 

EK : As I was saying earlier, whenever we move I get rid of a lot of stuff. Usually, I don’t miss any of it, but there were these two dresses I had from when I was four, or five years old. 

One of them was a part of a clown costume that my mom had worn as a kid. The other was a pink dress that I loved and refused to take off. I regret throwing those away, especially the clown dress because it was a vintage children’s costume and I have photos of both my mom and I wearing it. It had blood stains on it from when I was four years old and cracked my chin open while dancing. 

Still have the scar, but not the dress.

MW : Do you believe in Global Warming? 

EK : Yes, I believe in Global Warming because 97% of climate scientists agree that it’s happening and that’s enough for me. I try to be environmentally conscious by eating a plant-based diet, shopping at thrift stores, reusing or fixing things instead of throwing them out (except when I’m moving ☺), and cutting down on waste as much as possible. 

MW : ...American football? 

EK : I have to admit that American football is the most boring sport I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying a lot because I think all sports are pretty boring to watch. I also think the NFL is a disgusting organization which protects abusers while cracking down on peaceful protest. Sorry, probably not the lighthearted answer you had in mind!! 

MW : Any tour plans for 2019? 

EK :  Yes! We’re playing some shows around the Northeast US, then heading down to Florida in January. In early Spring, we’re heading to the Midwest for some shows, and then back to Europe in October. The best way to keep track of our touring is to sign up for our newsletter on our website:- 

www.thewhisperingtree.com

 © Mark Watkins / October 2018

[tortuga-aak]

The story of America can be told through sandwiches

Flickr/atlnav

Historians show what sandwiches tell us about the biggest themes of the day, including immigration and globalization, class and gender, and resourcefulness and creativity.

From California to Mississippi, sandwiches have a storied history. 

Everyone has a favorite sandwich, often prepared to an exacting degree of specification: Turkey or ham? Grilled or toasted? Mayo or mustard? White or whole wheat?

We reached out to five food historians and asked them to tell the story of a sandwich of their choosing. The responses included staples like peanut butter and jelly, as well as regional fare like New England’s chow mein sandwich.

Together, they show how the sandwiches we eat (or used to eat) do more than fill us up during our lunch breaks. In their stories are themes of immigration and globalization, of class and gender, and of resourcefulness and creativity.

A taste of home for working women

Megan Elias, Boston University

The tuna salad sandwich originated from an impulse to conserve, only to become a symbol of excess.

In the 19th century – before the era of supermarkets and cheap groceries – most Americans avoided wasting food. Scraps of chicken, ham or fish from supper would be mixed with mayonnaise and served on lettuce for lunch. Leftovers of celery, pickles and olives – served as supper “relishes” – would also be folded into the mix.

The versions of these salads that incorporated fish tended to use salmon, white fish or trout. Most Americans didn’t cook (or even know of) tuna.

Around the end of the 19th century, middle-class women began to spend more time in public, patronizing department stores, lectures and museums. Since social conventions kept these women out of the saloons where men ate, lunch restaurants opened up to cater to this new clientele. They offered women exactly the kind of foods they had served each other at home: salads. While salads made at home often were composed of leftovers, those at lunch restaurants were made from scratch. Fish and shellfish salads were typical fare.

When further social and economic changes brought women into the public as office and department store workers, they found fish salads waiting for them at the affordable lunch counters patronized by busy urban workers. Unlike the ladies’ lunch, the office lunch hour had time limits. So lunch counters came up with the idea of offering the salads between two pieces of bread, which sped up table turnover and encouraged patrons to get lunch to go.

When canned tuna was introduced in the early 20th century, lunch counters and home cooks could skip the step of cooking a fish and go straight to the salad. But there was downside: The immense popularity of canned tuna led to the growth of a global industry that has severely depleted stocks and led to the unintended slaughter of millions of dolphins. A clever way to use dinner scraps has become a global crisis of conscience and capitalism.

I like mine on toasted rye.

East meets West in Fall River, Massachusetts

Imogene Lim, Vancouver Island University

Ben Gilbert/Business Insider“Gonna get a big dish of beef chow mein,” Warren Zevon sings in his 1978 hit “Werewolves of London,” a nod to the popular Chinese stir-fried noodle dish.

During that same decade, Alika and the Happy Samoans, the house band for a Chinese restaurant in Fall River, Massachusetts, also paid tribute to chow mein with a song titled “Chow Mein Sandwich.”

Chow mein in a sandwich? Is that a real thing?

I was first introduced to the chow mein sandwich while completing my doctorate at Brown University. Even as the child of a Chinatown restaurateur from Vancouver, I viewed the sandwich as something of a mystery. It led to a post-doctoral fellowship and a paper about Chinese entrepreneurship in New England.

The chow mein sandwich is the quintessential “East meets West” food, and it’s largely associated with New England’s Chinese restaurants – specifically, those of Fall River, a city crowded with textile mills near the Rhode Island border.

The sandwich became popular in the 1920s because it was filling and cheap: Workers munched on them in factory canteens, while their kids ate them for lunch in the parish schools, especially on meatless Fridays. It would go on to be available at some “five and dime” lunch counters, like Kresge’s and Woolworth – and even at Nathan’s in Coney Island.

It’s exactly what it sounds like: a sandwich filled with chow mein (deep-fried, flat noodles, topped with a ladle of brown gravy, onions, celery and bean sprouts). If you want to make your own authentic sandwich at home, I recommend using Hoo Mee Chow Mein Mix, which is still made in Fall River. It can be served in a bun (à la sloppy joe) or between sliced white bread, much like a hot turkey sandwich with gravy. The classic meal includes the sandwich, french fries and orange soda.

For those who grew up in the Fall River area, the chow mein sandwich is a reminder of home. Just ask famous chef (and Fall River native) Emeril Legassé, who came up with his own “Fall River chow mein” recipe.

And at one time, Fall River expats living in Los Angeles would hold a “Fall River Day.”

On the menu? Chow mein sandwiches, of course.

A snack for the elites

Paul Freedman, Yale University

Ben Gilbert/Business InsiderUnlike many American food trends of the 1890s, such as the Waldorf salad and chafing dishes, the club sandwich has endured, immune to obsolescence.

The sandwich originated in the country’s stuffy gentlemen’s clubs, which are known – to this day – for a conservatism that includes loyalty to outdated cuisine. (The Wilmington Club in Delaware continues to serve terrapin, while the Philadelphia Club’s specialties include veal and ham pie.) So the club sandwich’s spread to the rest of the population, along with its lasting popularity, is a testament to its inventiveness and appeal.

A two-layer affair, the club sandwich calls for three pieces of toasted bread spread with mayonnaise and filled with chicken or turkey, bacon, lettuce and tomato. Usually the sandwich is cut into two triangles and held together with a toothpick stuck in each half.

Some believe it should be eaten with a fork and knife, and its blend of elegance and blandness make the club sandwich a permanent feature of country and city club cuisine.

As far back as 1889, there are references to a Union Club sandwich of turkey or ham on toast. The Saratoga Club-House offered a club sandwich on its menu beginning in 1894.

Interestingly, until the 1920s, sandwiches were identified with ladies’ lunch places that served “dainty” food. The first club sandwich recipe comes from an 1899 book of “salads, sandwiches and chafing-dish dainties,” and its most famous proponent was Wallis Simpson, the American woman whom Edward VIII abdicated the throne of Great Britain to marry.

Nonetheless, an 1889 article from the New York Sun entitled “An Appetizing Sandwich: A Dainty Treat That Has Made a New York Chef Popular” describes the Union Club sandwich as appropriate for a post-theater supper, or something light to be eaten before a nightcap. This was one type of sandwich that men could indulge in, the article seemed to be saying – as long as it wasn’t eaten for lunch.

‘The combination is delicious and original’

Ken Albala, University of the Pacific

While the peanut butter and jelly sandwich eventually became a staple of elementary school cafeterias, it actually has upper-crust origins.

In the late-19th century, at elegant ladies’ luncheons, a popular snack was small, crustless tea sandwiches with butter and cucumber, cold cuts or cheese. Around this time, health food advocates like John Harvey Kellogg started promoting peanut products as a replacement for animal-based foods (butter included). So for a vegetarian option at these luncheons, peanut butter simply replaced regular butter.

One of the earliest known recipes that suggested including jelly with peanut butter appeared in a 1901 issue of the Boston Cooking School Magazine.

“For variety,” author Julia Davis Chandler wrote, “some day try making little sandwiches, or bread fingers, of three very thin layers of bread and two of filling, one of peanut paste, whatever brand you prefer, and currant or crabapple jelly for the other. The combination is delicious, and so far as I know original.”

The sandwich moved from garden parties to lunchboxes in the 1920s, when peanut butter started to be mass produced with hydrogenated vegetable oil and sugar. Marketers of the Skippy brand targeted children as a potential new audience, and thus the association with school lunches was forged.

The classic version of the sandwich is made with soft, sliced white bread, creamy or chunky peanut butter and jelly. Outside of the United States, the peanut butter and jelly sandwich is rare  – much of the world views the combination as repulsive.

These days, many try to avoid white bread and hydrogenated fats. Nonetheless, the sandwich has a nostalgic appeal for many Americans, and recipes for high-end versions – with freshly ground peanuts, artisanal bread or unusual jams – now circulate on the web.

The Daughters of the Confederacy get creative

Andrew P. Haley, University of Southern Mississippi

Melia Robinson/Business InsiderThe Scotch woodcock is probably not Scottish. It’s arguably not even a sandwich. A favorite of Oxford students and members of Parliament until the mid-20th century, the dish is generally prepared by layering anchovy paste and eggs on toast.

Like its cheesier cousin, the Welsh rabbit (better known as rarebit), its name is fanciful. Perhaps there was something about the name, if not the ingredients, that sparked the imagination of Miss Frances Lusk of Jackson, Mississippi.

Inspired to add a little British sophistication to her entertaining, she crafted her own version of the Scotch woodcock for a 1911 United Daughters of the Confederacy fundraising cookbook. Miss Lusk’s woodcock sandwich mixed strained tomatoes and melted cheese, added raw eggs, and slathered the paste between layers of bread (or biscuits).

As food historian Bee Wilson argues in her history of the sandwich, American sandwiches distinguished themselves from their British counterparts by the scale of their ambition. Imitating the rising skylines of American cities, many were towering affairs that celebrated abundance.

But those sandwiches were the sandwiches of urban lunchrooms and, later, diners. In the homes of southern clubwomen, the sandwich was a way to marry British sophistication to American creativity.

For example, the United Daughters of the Confederacy cookbook included “sweetbread sandwiches,” made by heating canned offal (animal trimmings) and slathering the mashed mixture between two pieces of toast. There’s also a “green pepper sandwich,” crafted from “very thin” slices of bread and “very thin” slices of green pepper.

Such creative combinations weren’t limited to the elites of Mississippi’s capital city. In the plantation homes of the Mississippi Delta, members of the Coahoma Woman’s Club served sandwiches of English walnuts, black walnuts and stuffed olives ground into a colorful paste. They also assembled “Friendship Sandwiches” from grated cucumbers, onions, celery and green peppers mixed with cottage cheese and mayonnaise. Meanwhile, the industrial elite of Laurel, Mississippi, served mashed bacon and eggs sandwiches and creamed sardine sandwiches.

Not all of these amalgamations were capped by a slice of bread, so purists might balk at calling them sandwiches. But these ladies did – and they proudly tied up their original creations with ribbons.

NOW WATCH: Here's what losing weight does to your body and brain

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[shg11]

Displaced families say they are struggling to pay rent on damaged dwellings, as an acute housing crisis grips south-east Texas after Hurricane Harvey

Rocio Fuentes weighed up the cost of getting some new sofas for her new apartment in Pasadena, Texas, and decided the family budget could just about stretch to it. Just one month after moving in, Hurricane Harvey swept through and the Fuenteses were left not only with the ruined furniture but also an ongoing rental demand for a dwelling they had to flee.

At first we didnt think it would be that bad, but then the water came through the wall and up through the carpet, Fuentes said. Once we saw the water wasnt going to stop, we left.

Fuentes, her husband Jaime and their five children, ages ranging from seven months to 14 years, were plucked from the floodwaters by her mother, who arrived in a truck. They are now crammed into her sisters apartment and with no insurance have little idea where they will live next. Jaime is unable to earn money because his construction job has been paused due to the flooding.

But while everything has changed for this family, they are still expected to pay for their abandoned home.

Our landlords say we have to pay rent and late fees and every day it is going up, Fuentes said. We are paying rent for somewhere we cant live in. They said you arent the only ones in this situation, but what are we supposed to do? We dont have any money. We dont have anything.

Submerged houses in Houston after tropical storm Harvey. Photograph: Adrees Latif/Reuters

An acute housing crisis is starting to grip thousands of other families in south-east Texas as the floodwaters ebb away, with a death toll put at 60 on Monday. More than 180,000 houses in the Houston area have been badly damaged, with only a fraction of occupants owning any flood insurance. And under Texas law, rent must still be paid on damaged dwellings, unless they are deemed completely uninhabitable.

A spokeswoman for the city of Houstons housing department said city officials are aware these problems exist but said that state law deals with the situation. She said the city was still assessing the total number of people in need of housing assistance.

Under the Texas property code, if a rental premises is totally unusable due to an external disaster then either the landlord or tenant can terminate the lease through written notice. But if the property is partially unusable because of a disaster, a tenant may only get a reduction in rent determined by a county or district court.

There are a lot of property owners who arent conscious of what has gone on; they are being rude and kicking people out, said Isela Bezada, an unemployed woman who lived with 10 family members in a Houston house until her landlord took her to court to evict her after the hurricane hit.

Bezada, like Fuentes, has had almost every area of her life touched by the flood. Her relatives, who work in home renovations, have little opportunity to bring in money until the full gutting of sodden houses piles of torn up carpet, broken chairs and childrens toys have become a common adornment to the front of Houston homes and she worries about other family members stranded in Port Arthur by a flooded highway.

There are people who have been hit really badly by these floods, Bezada said. We are all human beings. We all deserve help.

A sense of maudlin uncertainty hangs over many people who now depend on shelters and food distribution centers where once they had a stable home life. At the St Juan Diego Catholic Church in Pasadena, hundreds of people rifle through huge piles of donated clothing while tamales and pupusas are cooked outside for the hungry crowd. A sign inside the donation center, in Spanish, informs families they can only take one package of bottled water each.

Quick Guide

Tropical storm Harvey and climate change

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Is there a link between the storm and climate change?

Almost certainly, according to astatementissued by the World Meteorological Organization on Tuesday. Climate change means that when we do have an event like Harvey, the rainfall amounts are likely to be higher than they would have been otherwise, the UN organisations spokeswoman Clare Nullis told a conference. Nobody is arguing that climate change caused the storm, but it is likely to have made it much worse.

How did it make it worse?

Warmer seas evaporate more quickly. Warmer air holds more water vapour. So, as temperatures rise around the world, the skies store more moisture and dump it more intensely. The US National Weather Service has had to introduce a new colour on its graphs to deal with the volume of precipitation. Harvey surpassed the previous US record for rainfall from a tropical system, as 49.2 inches was recorded at Marys Creek at Winding Road in Southeast Houston, at 9.20am on Tuesday.

Is this speculation or science?

There is a proven link known as theClausius-Clapeyron equation that shows that for every half a degree celsius in warming, there is about a 3% increase in atmospheric moisture content. This was a factor in Texas. The surface temperature in the Gulf of Mexico is currently more than half a degree celsius higher than the recent late summer average, which is in turn more than half a degree higher than 30 years ago,accordingtoMichael Mannof Penn State University. As a result there was more potential for a deluge.

Are there other links between Harvey and climate change?

Yes, the storm surge was greater because sea levels have risen 20cm as a result of more than 100 years of human-related global warming. This has melted glaciers and thermally expanded the volume of seawater.

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Thank you for your feedback.

Trucks, bringing donations of baby food, salads, blankets and other assortments, pull up at the center several times a day, stocked by well wishers as far away as Ohio. Volunteers report that more and more displaced people are showing up, more than a week after Hurricane Harvey hit, as they struggle to deal with their new circumstances.

A lot of the people here have lost everything, said Ernest Paredes, an organizer of the center. I dont know what the city is doing but there is a concern that people living in apartments are still being charged and that needs to be looked into. If they are getting help, they shouldnt be charged.

Evacuees of the powerful storm are taking shelter across the city, including here at the George R Brown Convention Center in downtown Houston. Photograph: Carlos Barria/Reuters

More than half a million people have applied for Fema help, with $33.6m already approved for housing assistance, which includes rent subsidies. Nearly 15,000 survivors have been put up by Fema in hotels and motels. A contractor has been asked by Fema to produce at least 4,500 pre-fabricated houses for displaced families.

But further help is needed, as Houston mayor Sylvester Turner stressed on Sunday, when he was asked on NBC what his priority areas were. Housing, housing, housing, Turner replied. The mayor has asked Donald Trump for more federal help to help repair homes but even that expanded initiative would only cover 35,000 dwellings.

With such demands on Fema help, there are inevitable frustrations over delays over assistance that may stretch for weeks or even longer. Erica Hall, who lived next to the Brays bayou in west Houston until the waterway swelled into her first floor apartment, has been ensconced on camp beds in a Red Cross-run shelter for the past week with her three children, all aged under four.

Confronted by knee-high sewage, Hall took her children onto the roof of a nearby car port, where they were plucked by the US coast guard, which dangled a basket on a rope for the family to climb into. Hall had never been in any sort of aircraft before.

A west Houston neighborhood underwater. Photograph: Tannen Maury/EPA

Ive never experienced being in an airplane or helicopter so I was terrified, I just closed my eyes, she said. The kids werent scared, they just said ooh look at the water!

With no flood insurance, Hall is now depending on Fema. She may be in the shelter another week while she waits, maybe longer.

I know theres a lot of other people affected besides me and my family but I just wish the process could move a little faster so we can get on with our lives, she said.

It really doesnt matter where I go, as long as its stable. But maybe not on the first floor. The second floor, somewhere off the ground, would be good.

Read more: https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2017/sep/04/hurricane-harvey-landlords-demand-rent-for-flooded-homes

[ouraidengray4]

Facebook Can’t Replace Family... but When You’re a New Mom, It Can Come Close

The author nursing her child

I imagine that most harried parents of young children fantasize about the days when entire extended families lived together on the same block, or even in the same house, like multi-generational Matryoshka dolls. Consider the beauty of it: a never-ending stream of grandparents, aunts, and cousins ready to lend a helping hand with childcare, household chores, and the minutiae of daily living. Because my dad’s family is Greek, my vision of this scenario always takes place on a cliffside in the Mediterranean, in a whitewashed villa, a great-grandmother in the kitchen, cooking up spanakopita and fresh seafood... an image almost as beguiling as the fantasy of free childcare.

In reality, like many American millennial parents, I live with my partner and our children, and both of our extended families live far away. So when it’s 4 a.m., and I’m desperately seeking advice on nighttime cluster feeding, I can’t go knocking on the door of my beloved yiayia. But as new parents, we don’t always know exactly what’s going on with our precious newborn… and we seriously need that font of experience and wisdom.

One night not long ago, we literally couldn’t tell if our baby was starving to death or just going through a very normal, very frustrating developmental phase. What can I say? When you combine extreme sleep deprivation and a fundamental lack of knowledge about infants, you get two well-educated parents who are contemplating taking a seemingly healthy newborn to the emergency room simply because he won’t stop crying.

Sure, we could have called one of our mothers in another time zone, but something about that seemed like admitting defeat. Because we live far away, we’re so unused to asking for their help that relying on them for answers almost feels like confessing that we’re unsuitable parents.

However, I do know someone who’s always ready for a 4 a.m. inquiry, and always has a ready answer: my pal, the internet. In your Facebook mom group, you can ask the crowd, "My newborn won’t stop screaming… what the hell do I do?" and in addition to some sympathy, you’ll receive articles on everything from colic to Harvey Karp to developmental growth spurts.

While easy access to information—all the information—may be the most useful aspect of being a new mom in the internet age, the communities we have developed are just as important. There’s a strange sense of solidarity in knowing that I’m not the only otherwise competent adult who has to ask strangers how to keep my baby still long enough to trim his nails. And the sense of failure I felt in the early days of parenting has slowly been replaced by a feeling of unity as I stare at these early-morning queries from exhausted parents around the world.

Online spaces have become the modern parenting community for many people because of the sense of connection they offer during a stage of life when getting out and finding a live community just isn’t feasible. Although a lot of people have claimed that this new reliance on the internet is as an indication of how we’re failing as a culture, most moms I know embrace the advantages of online groups while acknowledging their limitations. I wouldn’t want to rely on online spaces as my sole social contact for the rest of my life, but for the time being, they’re keeping me connected to the outside world and to other people experiencing many of the same challenges I face.

As a plus, they introduce you to new ideas that nurture your family in ways you never would have considered. Am I the kind of mom who spends her time Pinning recipes for DIY "ice chalk" made with eco-friendly, toddler-safe ingredients? I surely am not, but I will absolutely take advantage of the industrious parent who came before me and created a craft that could potentially occupy my child for more than five minutes when I’ve run out of episodes of Thomas & Friends.

Perhaps most importantly, there are times when Facebook groups, blogs, and other online parenting forums have let me feel like a person again, instead of just a mother.

Last year, we had a particularly long winter, and I was experiencing a brand of cabin fever that is perhaps unique to parents of children under 2. Sweet, sweet relief was promised by the weather forecaster, who predicted a relatively balmy January day. But almost as soon as I got both kids out of bed and into our playroom, I realized an outing was not in the cards. My heart sank as the forecast became more and more dire, and no amount of coffee was able to prepare me for the day ahead, as a light shower of rain was quickly replaced by the ominous noises of freezing rain and wind.

As I pulled out my phone to check Facebook, parents up and down the coast joined me. My feed was full of people lamenting school closures and cancelled plans as they too realized a long day indoors was inevitable. Memes lamenting the realities of a snow day with little children were everywhere:

As frustrated as I was that today was shaping up to be an inside day, it quickly became apparent that I wasn’t the only one.

But mom groups are more than just places to vent about being cooped-up with toddlers; they also offer genuine connection. As ridiculous as my partner thinks my cloth diaper groups are, they have not only kept my children from smelling like a barnyard, but are also real resources for parents. After one mother posted that she’d lost all her cloth diapers in the August 2016 flooding in Louisiana, the responses were amazing. She had only been asking for advice about where to buy on a limited budget, but her post was quickly full of comments from people around the country who wanted to mail her diapers for free so she could get back on her feet.

Maybe it sounds silly that this woman was getting this support from an online community instead of a local organization, but she was able to connect with other people who were not only empathetic to her story (and understanding of her desire for cloth diapers), but able to quickly follow through with a solution.

Sometimes I think wistfully of that Mediterranean compound full of pasta and grandmothers willing to take over the odd diaper change. But I have also come to realize that said grandmother is probably overly intrusive about your family planning and will take advantage of Sunday dinner to publicly lament the fact that two years have gone by since you had your first baby and to ask if you have plans for another, as all the cousins look on attentively and wonder what’s wrong with your marriage. Perhaps the anonymity and convenience of online forums are to be desired during a time of life when sleep deprivation makes emotional personal interactions too complicated. And after all, I can always order Greek takeout.

Olivia Williams is a full-time attorney turned stay-at-home feminist and mother of two. She enjoys craft beers, yoga, and the rare opportunity to read a Victorian novel in the bathtub. Follow her on Twitter @oawillia.

from Greatist RSS http://ift.tt/2ijWbmj Facebook Can’t Replace Family... but When You’re a New Mom, It Can Come Close Greatist RSS from HEALTH BUZZ http://ift.tt/2j4nMtH

[ouraidengray4]

Facebook Can’t Replace Family... but When You’re a New Mom, It Can Come Close

The author nursing her child

I imagine that most harried parents of young children fantasize about the days when entire extended families lived together on the same block, or even in the same house, like multi-generational Matryoshka dolls. Consider the beauty of it: a never-ending stream of grandparents, aunts, and cousins ready to lend a helping hand with childcare, household chores, and the minutiae of daily living. Because my dad’s family is Greek, my vision of this scenario always takes place on a cliffside in the Mediterranean, in a whitewashed villa, a great-grandmother in the kitchen, cooking up spanakopita and fresh seafood... an image almost as beguiling as the fantasy of free childcare.

In reality, like many American millennial parents, I live with my partner and our children, and both of our extended families live far away. So when it’s 4 a.m., and I’m desperately seeking advice on nighttime cluster feeding, I can’t go knocking on the door of my beloved yiayia. But as new parents, we don’t always know exactly what’s going on with our precious newborn… and we seriously need that font of experience and wisdom.

One night not long ago, we literally couldn’t tell if our baby was starving to death or just going through a very normal, very frustrating developmental phase. What can I say? When you combine extreme sleep deprivation and a fundamental lack of knowledge about infants, you get two well-educated parents who are contemplating taking a seemingly healthy newborn to the emergency room simply because he won’t stop crying.

Sure, we could have called one of our mothers in another time zone, but something about that seemed like admitting defeat. Because we live far away, we’re so unused to asking for their help that relying on them for answers almost feels like confessing that we’re unsuitable parents.

However, I do know someone who’s always ready for a 4 a.m. inquiry, and always has a ready answer: my pal, the internet. In your Facebook mom group, you can ask the crowd, "My newborn won’t stop screaming… what the hell do I do?" and in addition to some sympathy, you’ll receive articles on everything from colic to Harvey Karp to developmental growth spurts.

While easy access to information—all the information—may be the most useful aspect of being a new mom in the internet age, the communities we have developed are just as important. There’s a strange sense of solidarity in knowing that I’m not the only otherwise competent adult who has to ask strangers how to keep my baby still long enough to trim his nails. And the sense of failure I felt in the early days of parenting has slowly been replaced by a feeling of unity as I stare at these early-morning queries from exhausted parents around the world.

Online spaces have become the modern parenting community for many people because of the sense of connection they offer during a stage of life when getting out and finding a live community just isn’t feasible. Although a lot of people have claimed that this new reliance on the internet is as an indication of how we’re failing as a culture, most moms I know embrace the advantages of online groups while acknowledging their limitations. I wouldn’t want to rely on online spaces as my sole social contact for the rest of my life, but for the time being, they’re keeping me connected to the outside world and to other people experiencing many of the same challenges I face.

As a plus, they introduce you to new ideas that nurture your family in ways you never would have considered. Am I the kind of mom who spends her time Pinning recipes for DIY "ice chalk" made with eco-friendly, toddler-safe ingredients? I surely am not, but I will absolutely take advantage of the industrious parent who came before me and created a craft that could potentially occupy my child for more than five minutes when I’ve run out of episodes of Thomas & Friends.

Perhaps most importantly, there are times when Facebook groups, blogs, and other online parenting forums have let me feel like a person again, instead of just a mother.

Last year, we had a particularly long winter, and I was experiencing a brand of cabin fever that is perhaps unique to parents of children under 2. Sweet, sweet relief was promised by the weather forecaster, who predicted a relatively balmy January day. But almost as soon as I got both kids out of bed and into our playroom, I realized an outing was not in the cards. My heart sank as the forecast became more and more dire, and no amount of coffee was able to prepare me for the day ahead, as a light shower of rain was quickly replaced by the ominous noises of freezing rain and wind.

As I pulled out my phone to check Facebook, parents up and down the coast joined me. My feed was full of people lamenting school closures and cancelled plans as they too realized a long day indoors was inevitable. Memes lamenting the realities of a snow day with little children were everywhere:

As frustrated as I was that today was shaping up to be an inside day, it quickly became apparent that I wasn’t the only one.

But mom groups are more than just places to vent about being cooped-up with toddlers; they also offer genuine connection. As ridiculous as my partner thinks my cloth diaper groups are, they have not only kept my children from smelling like a barnyard, but are also real resources for parents. After one mother posted that she’d lost all her cloth diapers in the August 2016 flooding in Louisiana, the responses were amazing. She had only been asking for advice about where to buy on a limited budget, but her post was quickly full of comments from people around the country who wanted to mail her diapers for free so she could get back on her feet.

Maybe it sounds silly that this woman was getting this support from an online community instead of a local organization, but she was able to connect with other people who were not only empathetic to her story (and understanding of her desire for cloth diapers), but able to quickly follow through with a solution.

Sometimes I think wistfully of that Mediterranean compound full of pasta and grandmothers willing to take over the odd diaper change. But I have also come to realize that said grandmother is probably overly intrusive about your family planning and will take advantage of Sunday dinner to publicly lament the fact that two years have gone by since you had your first baby and to ask if you have plans for another, as all the cousins look on attentively and wonder what’s wrong with your marriage. Perhaps the anonymity and convenience of online forums are to be desired during a time of life when sleep deprivation makes emotional personal interactions too complicated. And after all, I can always order Greek takeout.

Olivia Williams is a full-time attorney turned stay-at-home feminist and mother of two. She enjoys craft beers, yoga, and the rare opportunity to read a Victorian novel in the bathtub. Follow her on Twitter @oawillia.

from Greatist RSS http://ift.tt/2ibNQ4p Facebook Can’t Replace Family... but When You’re a New Mom, It Can Come Close Greatist RSS from HEALTH BUZZ http://ift.tt/2j3Vkuz