#and i had to chop off a bunch of roots to plant it
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bestfictionalplant · 9 months ago
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Prelim Poll: Bionicle
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Edit: Thornax typo (imagine this is in the flame text)
Propaganda under cut (including an ESSAY on Karzahni)
Thornax: when ripe, it becomes explosive. these are used as ranged weapons in gladiator fights on a giant desert planet. the planet got apocalypsed because of fracking, but that's not the point
Morbuzakh: the little meat robot mayor gets replaced by a power-hungry ex-protector whose job is to make fucked-up animals and shit. he's called makuta. he makes this semi-sentient plant, promises it that it can rule the city once it's done what he wants it to, and plants it in a fucking furnace. its job is to round up all the little meat robot civilians so they can be put into amnesia-inducing orbs. incidentally, its efforts result in some of them dying. six little meat-robot civilians get picked out by the local superhero and turned into big meat-robot superheroes. they go on a quest to find a bunch of magic frisbees in order to defeat the giant evil plant. the frisbees destroy the king root, and it dies
this plant is notable because, though it was mostly cut from the animated movie adaptation of that arc, it appeared in one brief scene that led to many bionicle fans developing a bondage kink
Karzahni: Makuta (see Morbuzakh propaganda) made karzahni. who was too smart and cool and powerful. so he did not get deployed. he is named after the legendary Lego Hell and Lego Satan where Bad And Naughty Disabled Robots Go For "Repairs" And Never Return. it's expensive to copyright names. they had to double up on occasion. or triple up. or quadruple up. anyway so Makuta who is also ANOTHER Lego Satan but that's besides the point, creates this plant. but the plant is too smart. so he puts it somewhere and forgets about it and makes the morbuzakh
NEW PARAGRAPH anyway so basically most creatures in this universe are immortal bar murder and fucked-up circumstances. no old age, basically. but this plant has one, because Bionicle Satan (Not Karzahni) makes his shit with limited lifespans so they can't wait for ten thousand years gathering their power and then kill-murder him to death. six big robot meat superheroes fight a fucking big monster in a tunnel. the cool smart one who used to be a teacher gets poisoned. but because karzahni (plant) is so fucking cool it can make an antidote. and it holds the antidote hostage in exchange for Cool Oil, which is oil from the apocalypse planet where the robot meat guys' creators are from, but they fracked too hard and split the planet into three pieces so that's a bit fucked-up and yet besides the point. anyway they get the magic juice and give it to karzahni (plant). previously in the story (but later in the timeline; this is a TWO-YEAR FLASHBACK EPISODE BABY) some other robot meat superheroes took a dunk in this cool fucking water and got mega-boosted powers. super-superheroes. but that's because god exists and has predetermined what can happen in each individual's life. those guys got Good Results From Applied Goo. karzahni (plant) does not. it just fucking. dies. it is then chopped up to make some lorries float so they can take the amnesiac sphere guys up to a cool new island they found, because their old island got FUCKING WRECKED
NEW PARAGRAPH anyway a cutting of karzahni survived (known as karzahni ii) with all the memories and shit of the real one and just sort of goes. FINE. i will join you, Lego Satan (not karzahni but the evil mayor impersonator) in gaslighting this mentally ill man into thinking he's short and his life is a lie in order to get the time travel device he made out of some magic fucking frisbees. karzahni took on the role of the morbuzakh. then the guy's like "this is bullshit" and gets thrown off a cliff but Karzahni II catches him and goes "hey. everything's alright. i tortured and killed a guy and he said you're doing good and everything is gonna be okay" and then the evil mayor impersonator (who by this point has not been impersonating the mayor for like. at least a week?) kills it. again. for real this time
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nancypullen · 4 months ago
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Snip Snip
Well, that's done. Just after noon I drove to Glam Salon in Easton (I think "glam" and Easton cancel each other out) and got rid of a lot of hair. I don't love it, but I don't hate it either. As far as my hair is concerned, that's a win. My appointment was for a cut and highlights on the crown to lighten it up a bit and allow my white to grow in. That's always ridiculously expensive, and quite frankly, I don't see a big difference. First she chopped off a ton of hair, then painted in the highlights and wrapped me in foil. By this time I was questioning my choices.
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I love that this pic is a little out of focus because it makes me look like I don't have a bunch of wrinkles. Spoiler alert: I do. Anyway, the end result is fine, and I'll probably keep my hair short and eschew any color. Easier and cheaper, two of my favorite things. I took a selfie before I left for my appointment. I went in with frizz, floppy layers, and a stripe of white roots. The middle shot was taken when i got home. The profile after I had changed into jammies and rubbed my eyes. Don't judge me.
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I love the woman who cuts my hair and she is the one who kept me from going even shorter. She told me to try this for a while and see how I feel. She's probably right. I feel that this is a crone-worthy cut and I can live with it. So there are the photos I promised, don't expect to see my mug on this blog again any time soon. Moving on to more important matters - I haven't applied a single swipe of paint to that gorgeous desk/cupboard set. It's just too dang hot. We are still under all sorts of heat advisories, I think our high today was 97 with a "real feel" of 100-something. Totally unnecessary. The humidity is high and absolutely draining. I dragged the hose around and watered a few things and filled the bird bath, and just that little bit of activity felt like swimming in hot water in a wool sweater. Gross. Since I don't have a deadline for painting that piece I do believe I'll wait until the garage doesn't feel like a sauna. That might be a while. Because it's hot and I'm rattling around the house alone, I am not cooking. I've been polishing off dibs and dabs of leftovers in the frig - a bit of rotisserie chicken, a little tuna on crackers, fruits and veggies, I'm like one of those sucker fish that cleans your aquarium. I don't mind it. Keeps the house cool and my tummy full. Win-win. I think we should declare a moratorium on cooking until the high temp for the day is 75. Nothing that takes longer than microwave popcorn allowed.
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That's enough from me today. The sun is sinking toward the horizon and the sky is a hazy lavender. That's my cue to roll the trash can to the curb and call it a night. In an hour I'll probably be reading in bed, surrounded by cats. Look at that, another win!
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I'll leave you here and try to think of something to write about tomorrow. Perhaps the fact that I refuse to give up on my stunted gardens and have decided that I'll try pumpkins again. Ever the optimist, a glutton for punishment, and a firm believer since 1963.
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I'm going to pop seeds into the front bed as well as the garden on the side of the house. I used to grow lovely pumpkins in TN, I refuse to believe that my pumpkin farming days are over. Now is the time to plant for a Halloween harvest. Send me some good vibes, light a candle, rub some beads, sacrifice a chocolate bar, whatever it takes. I'm full of hope. I'll meet you back here tomorrow. Until then, stay safe, stay well, keep COOL.
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XOXO, Nancy
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garden-with-squid · 1 year ago
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6/3/23
It’s a sunny day today, but I still feel gloomy in the garden. Sometimes it just feels like, euauhhggh right?
Lost a limb of the BRC and had to chop it off. I was trying to dry it out bc of the fungus gnats. Gave it a hydrogen peroxide root drench.
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I suspect there’s a squirrel stealing fruit. There’s was a ripe strawberry neatly picked off, and 2 bunches of tomatoes missing, and birds usually leave a bigger mess behind.
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Shit, right?
I’ll plant some new things in bed 1 tomorrow to make some progress and feel better.
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jensownzoo · 2 years ago
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The latest stage of replacing part of my front lawn with a garden bed has completed stages (rows) 3 & 4.
Stage 3 was easy since all I had left to do was dig up the pavers I wanted from the side yard and get them situated in row 3 so I had a walking row. Planted the Kentucky Colonel mint in the center (I’ll be rooting multiple cuttings from this and putting them between all the pavers eventually). Also planted some nasturtium seed and oregano seed here. Ordered the white Dutch clover seed that will fill everything in and make the bees ecstatic.
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Stage 4 was a bitch and a half. It took 3 days of work to get done. Apparently some time in the past, a fence lived in this row and when they took out the fence, they left the concrete holding the posts behind. I had to break out the sledgehammer :-( Got 2 out of 3 completely out and enough inches knocked off the top of the last one that I called it good. But in addition to the concrete, being a former fenceline meant that the clay soil never really saw any action—so about 6 inches down it turned into very heavy very solid red clay...which I then had to crumble with my hands. My poor, sore hands. However, I did finally remember I had a whole bale of rotting straw which since I didn’t want to give it to the chickens for their run (being that it was growing unidentified mushrooms), I could use to thoroughly amend this terrible clay soil. Tilled a mineral mix and a general fertilizer into the top 4” and added plants.
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Was originally going to make this row eggplants, but realized their size would work better next to the sidewalk so did a final row of tomatoes instead. Mix of varieties including Paul Robeson, a Japanese black slicer, Heinz 1350 VF, and three different cherry tomatoes (a red, a yellow, and a blue). I did a row of old mammoth dill seed mixed with orange French marigold seed that I scavenged last fall (from the green waste dumpsters in the alley). Also threw in a row of scavenged Liatris (blazing star/gayfeather) seed, but I’ll be surprised if the seed is any good. I’ve still got three homeless tomato seedlings left, but I may guerilla-plant them since I now have 24 tomato plants in front and another 18 in the back as I have planted up another one of my raised beds.
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The overwintered Nicotiana went in previously, but now it’s been joined by three tomatillos (and purple cage support) and 6 tomatoes. This bed is partially shaded in the afternoon so three of the transplants are Sweet 100 cherry tomatoes. Even if their production isn’t as good in part shade, it’s still going to be significant. The fluffy straw is working wonderfully for keeping the wildlife from digging up the beds (mostly after earthworms since I’ve got GOOD soil in them) and tossing seeds/seedlings about. Plus the extra insulation at night. Will probably pull it off and chop it up for a proper mulch in late May sometime since a hot dry summer is forecasted again.
I impulse-bought two rhubarb seedlings at the neighborhood grocery and have been dithering about where to put them. Got them in-ground today and have already changed my mind, but here they are presently. They’re planted too close together for the long-term, plus that spot gets too much afternoon shade.
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My earthboxes are doing really well! Looks like I’ll be having salad for lunch for the next week on the thinnings. The boxes aren’t hovering, btw. I’ve got them supported on metal beams running between some cinder blocks—less bending over makes for a happier back.
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I pulled out a bunch of old containers and have been giving the ones that are still sound a coat of spray paint to freshen them up throughout this past week. Most of them are over 20 years old and were pitted and faded/stained enough to show it. I had a large collection of spray paint that I’ve picked up on clearance over the years, so I picked some of the brightest shades. Here are the window boxes I did today, but I also have larger containers that I did in bright yellow, aqua/teal, and a pinky-purple.
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And here’s a random picture of the hawthorn in my side yard because it looks neat right now.
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Only one more row of the front yard gardening bed project to go, but I am dreading it so much right now after the last row. I am going to have to put something in as an edger or everything will end up on the sidewalk after a good rain, so maybe I’ll procrastinate by poking around in the garage a bit...
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empyreanparadisaea · 1 month ago
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While the two other men seemed to be more experienced in terrain like this, Kaveh absolutely wasn't. He fumbled behind them. Getting himself entangled by unusual fauna. Or tripping on the long roots that had weaved into the ground. A lot of it was beautiful. Unique flowers that bloomed into a large scale or bundled together in the bunches. Beautiful… yet off putting to the Archeologist.
Mehrak did the best it could, chopping away the branches and vines that were in the way with its laser. But it seemed like for every vine it chopped down, another one was right after it. Once Kaveh was by their side again, he began to lead the men towards their location.
���I don't wish to worry you gentlemen.” He said, pulling out his tablet out. A map is displayed, showing four red dots as Kaveh, Jing Yuan, Yutie and Mehrak. And a blue dot for the location they were heading to. That blue dot was close. But with all the foliage, it felt like it would be so much longer. 
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“We're close. These plants however… they're not supposed to be here. None of them showed up on the survey reports I was given.” As much as the Armed Archeologists liked to be a dick to him, they never withheld this type of information. “I suggest extreme caution. And if possible, we make sure we don't bring any of these back to the ship either.”
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curlydragonfish · 6 years ago
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OMGGGGGGG the bowl is making me so happy rn please GOD nothing melt or die 😭😭😭❤️
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littlehippiewitch · 3 years ago
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Dandelion
When I was in elementary school we used to pick the dandelions and pop the flower heads off and sing the twisted song of “momma had a baby and it’s head popped off” now I have not been successful in finding the correlation of that or the origin for that matter. The most I could find was something to do with a guillotine? Either way I think it’s an interesting thing that kids have normalized all over the United States as well as some other parts of the world.
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The dandelion’s bright yellow flowers are one of the first to bloom in spring.
However, the “flower” head is actually a composite of a bunch of tiny flowers clustered together, making it a great plant for pollinators.
The leaves form a base, and are full of “teeth”. Plants range from a few inches high to over a foot tall, depending on growing conditions. The stems are hollow and produce a milk-like, sticky sap.
Once matured, the flower heads turn to a white puff ball, and release seeds that resemble tiny parachutes to flow through the air until they ultimately land and a new dandelion grows. It’s a complete cycle of life.
Now to discuss the benefits and uses of dandelions, before I get started I would like to state the following:
Never collect plants for food or medicine from areas that have been sprayed with herbicides or other chemicals.
The leaves are loaded with vitamins and minerals, including the anti-oxidant beta carotene. (The body converts Beta Carotene into vitamin A (retinol)
Vitamin A, is a vital nutrient for vision, cell growth and in maintaining healthy organs like the heart, lungs, and kidneys.
Dandelion roots are high in inulin, a soluble fiber that acts as a probiotic, feeding good gut bacteria.
The bitterness of the dandelion increases stomach acid, which improves digestion.
(In case you didn’t know, acid reflux is often caused by not having enough stomach acid)
✨Tip: Try some dandelion tea before meals, or steeping some chopped greens in white wine to accompany your meal, or add the greens to your salad!
The inulin in the dandelion roots helps to bulk up stool, while the potassium and magnesium in the leaves may help relieve bloating and constipation.
The sap from the stalks or stems is antimicrobial.
✨Tip: Apply the sap from the flower stalk directly to warts, calluses, corns and rough skin. Rub in and repeat as needed.
You can use dandelion flowers to lighten age spots, relieve sunburn and tighten pores.
✨Tip: Cover freshly picked dandelion blossoms in boiling water. Cover your container and let steep for one hour. Strain and reserve liquid. Place warm flowers on your target skin areas, and relax for ten minutes. Remove flowers and rinse with the flower liquid. Treat before bedtime and leave the dandelion water residue on overnight for best results.
You can use dandelion flowers to help soothe sore muscles and joints.
✨Tip: Infuse dandelion flowers in oil to make an ointment for sore muscles, joints or dry skin. Gather enough blossoms to fill a jar, and cover with olive oil. Infuse for a week or two and then strain.
If you’d like me to make a detailed post about how to infuse herbs let me know!
DISCLAIMER: Although generally considered safe, like any food/herb it may cause allergic reactions or contact dermatitis in some individuals. Dandelion is not recommend for use while on diuretics or antibiotics!
Please consult with your doctor before taking herbal supplements if you are on medications, or nursing or pregnant.
Dandelions are edible from root to seed!
Many types of wildlife consume dandelion flowers, leaves and seeds. As an early nectar source in spring, the flowers are vital to bees and other pollinators. They are beneficial to humans too though!
✨Tip: Add the flower petals to salads, breads or desserts, or dip and fry the whole blossoms like mushrooms.
Dandelion leaves are one of the best natural sources of potassium. They are also high in vitamins, A, C and K, as well as calcium, iron and magnesium.
Dandelion leaves are rather bitter, especially as the season progresses.
✨Tip: Mix the greens with other spring greens in salads, or sauté with oil and seasonings. To reduce bitterness, boil for 10 minutes and pour off the water. (This will reduce some nutrients.) In recipes, you can use them like parsley or spinach.
To store the greens rinse and store fresh leaves in the refrigerator, as you would store other greens. You can keep them wrapped in a damp towel, or in a container.
Freeze for longer storage, or dehydrate or freeze dry.
✨Tip: Use whole leaves in cooking or to make tea.
Dandelion tea:
1/2 Cup Dandelion Petals, loosely packed
1 Cup Boiling Water
Put the dandelion petals in a cup
Pour boiling water over them
Allow to steep 5-10 min.
Strain.
Sweeten to your liking and enjoy.
Dandelion seeds are edible, too. They can be nibbled off the white puffy parachute tops.
Dandelion roots are edible and medicinal.
You can dig them any time of year, but they are best for medicine in the fall, when the plant stores its energy in the roots.
For eating, first year roots are best. As they become tough as they age and are not great for eating but can still be used for medicinal purposes.
✨Tip: Clean well and boil or roast like other root vegetables.
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lailoken · 4 years ago
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“Elder (Sambucus nigra), also known as boor or bour tree.
Elder is one of the most enigmatic plants in British folk tradition. On one hand it is feared and associated with WITCHES and on the other it is valued for its protective qualities, as a fly repellent, and for its use in many herbal remedies.
The whole plant hath a narcotic smell; it is not well to sleep under its shade. [Withering, 1776: 186]
[In Leitrim, Waterford and the south of Ireland] the elder or 'bore' tree is believed to have been the tree from which Judas Iscariot hanged himself. The proof of which is the fact that its leaves have an 'ugly smell', and, moreover, that its fruit has since degenerated from its original size and excellent flavour, and become worthless both as to size and taste. [Anon., 1916: 425]
It was said at Beckley that if you burn elder wood you will become bewitched. You never cut it down. In Wootton they say that the elder is a witch tree. You should not mend a wattle hedge with it, as it will give the witches power. If you cut it, it will bleed. [Oxfordshire Women's In- stitute groups, 1950s]
Unlucky to burn Tramman [elder], it is the FAIRIES’ tree. [Lezayre, Isle of Man, c.1975; Manx Folklife Survey]
Normally in the Isle of Man elder is the fairies' tree which is unlucky to cut down, or burn when fallen. I was told in 1992 by a forestry worker of his pleasure that a large elder had blown over into the field adjoining his garden and thus relieved him of the need to find someone willing to remove it. [Union Mills, Isle of Man, October 1993]
Elder flowers—it is alright to pick the flowers for wine or culinary use, but the tree is a friend of witches and the wood should never come into the house. [Ashreigney, Devon, July 1983]
Elder—unlucky to bring either flowers or wood into a house: (a) because it is the witches' tree, (b) because it was believed that Judas Iscariot hanged himself from an elder tree, (c) because if you fall asleep under elder flowers the scent will poison you or you will never wake up. [Driffield, Humber- side, March 1985]
Collecting firewood from the hedges surrounding the cottage and returning happily laden, but being accused of bringing bits of elder into the house—it was considered unlucky to use these to light a fire. [Bow Street, Dyfed, October 1984]
The only unlucky plant which I have heard of is the elder tree, which the old people looked upon as unlucky. As I have heard the old people say, it was unhealthy to have an elder tree growing near the house as it was often noted the inhabitants seemed more prone to TUBERCULOSIS or 'Consumption' as it was known in Ireland in the old days. However, as TB was rampant all over the country at that time, I don't know if the belief would have any significance. My own people however would not cut down an elder bush or burn it no matter how old or rotten it was. Nor allow an elder stick in the house, and it would be an unforgivable act to strike a child or even an animal with one. [Kill Village, Co. Kildare, October 1984]
The family name dies out on the property where the elder grows in the kitchen garden. [Skibbereen, Co. Cork, January 1993]
Do you know the Rollright Stones in Oxfordshire? You can't count them; you never get the same number twice. In the next field there is a big stone called King Arthur, and there are various stones called after his Knights around. There are some elder bushes nearby. We used to go there as children on our bicycles and try to count the stones. We were told that if we picked a flower or a berry from these elderberry bushes we would be turned into stone. We used to dare each other to pick a berry or a flower, but no one ever did. [Mitcham, Surrey, May 1986]
However, in the early part of the nineteenth century:
On Midsummer Eve, when the 'eldern' tree was in blossom, it was a custom for people to come up to the King Stone and stand in a circle. Then the 'eldern' was cut, as it bled 'the King moved his head.' [Evans, 1895: 20]
Sometimes it was thought that wood, berries, or flowers could be safely taken from an elder only if the tree's permission had been sought first.
Hearing one day that a baby in a cottage close to my own was ill, I went across to see what was the matter. Baby appeared right enough, and I said so; but its mother promptly explained. 'It were all along of my maister's thick 'ed; it were in this how: t'rocker cummed off t'cradle, an' he hedn't no more gumption than to mak' a new ’un out on illerwood without axing the Old Lady's leave, an' in coorse she didn't like that, and she came and pinched t'wean that outrageous he were a'most black i' t' face; but I bashed 'un off, an putten an' esh 'un on, an' t'wean is as gallus as owt agin.' This was something quite new to me, and the clue seemed worth following up. So going home I went straight down to my backyard, where old Johnny Holmes was cutting up firewood—‘chopping kindling,' as he would have said. Watching the opportunity, I put a knot of elder-wood in the way and said, 'You are not feared of chopping that are you ?' 'Nay, he replied at once, 'I bain't feared of choppin' him, he bain't wick (alive); but if her were wick I dussn't, not without axin’ the Old Gal's leave, not if it were ever so'.. . (The words to be used are): 'Oh, them's slape enuff.' You just says, 'Owd Gal, give me of thy wood, and Oi will give some of moine, when I graws inter a tree.' [Heanley, 190I: 55]
If you chop an elder tre e or fell it, you should bow three times and say:
Old Woman, Old Woman, Give me some of your wood And when I am dead I'll give you some of mine. [Whitwick, Leicestershire, August 1983]
[Staffordshire, 1930s:] my mother said it was the thing if one wanted blossoms or fruit from an elder tree to say 'Please Mother Elder may I have .. .' [Ponsanooth, Cornwall, November 1993]
In addition to records of elder being inauspicious, there are many rec- ords of it being a beneficial, protective tree.
[In Northumberland] an old man told me that his aunt used to keep a piece of bour tree, or elder, constantly in her kist (chest) to prevent her clothes from malign influence. [Hardy, 1895: 325]
In south Wales it was deemed very dangerous to build any premises on or near the spot where an eldertree stood. In the past an elder planted before the door of a cow-shed or stable protected the cows and horses from witchcraft and sorcery. [Trevelyan, 1909: 103]
[In Scotland elder was] often planted near old crofts and cottages as protection from witches. [Webster, 1978: 342]
[In Guernsey elder] had to be planted as near as possible to the back door, the most used entrance, since it was a sacred tree and a good protection against witchcraft. [McClintock, 1987: 33]
[In Ireland] it is considered lucky to have an elderberry bush grow near your house, especially if it is "self-set'. [Bracknell, Berkshire, August 1984]
Mother used elder leaves to make a pattern on the floor-bricks. Painting around them with red paint. Making the cross with elder leaves. This was an old custom, going back to her grandmother's time, so the custom had to be continued despite the time-consuming nature of the work. [Bow Street, Dyfed, March 1984]
Elder: this was called Boortree... The leaves were boiled and the water used to dose pigs. For this purpose, and because it was supposed to be a protection against LIGHTNING, there was a tree of it at every house. It can still be seen growing in places where there are no houses now, but where houses were years ago. [Lenamore, Co. Longford, April 1991]
Family folklore passed on to me includes . . . one should plant a ROWAN and elder tree and never cut them down, in order to keep witches away. [Parkstone, Dorset, June 1991]
I can remember as a child elder growing around the wooden bottom-of-the-garden 'lavvy' at my uncle's farm near Brentwood, Essex, and many other similar loos with elder adjacent. I was told that the elder would live 'almost for ever', as if one root died off another would spring from a fallen branch or twig. They were treated with 'respect' as they kept away bad magic—no one used the word 'witches'—but the inference was there. [Yafforth, North Yorkshire, January 1990]
More usually elder trees were planted around toilets and other build ings to deter FLIES.
Elder bushes are invariably to be seen outside the dairy windows on the north side of old-fashioned farmhouses in the Midlands. This was done because elder-leaves are supposed to be very objectionable to flies, wasps and other insects, the tree thus provided both shade and protection. For the same reason a switch of elder with leaves on is used when taking or driving a swarm of bees. [N &Q, 11 ser. 12: 489, 1915]
When inspecting a slaughter house [in Cornwall] a summer or two ago, I commented on the absence of flies, and was told that this was due to a large elder bush growing some feet away and that branches of elder in any building would keep flies away. [Peter, 1915: 123]
An elderberry tree was always grown near the house—I think it was to keep flies away. [Didcot, Oxfordshire, February 1991]
According to some friends of mine elderberry bushes were planted by water butts and outside privies so that the smell would keep the flies away. [Horseheath, Cambridgeshire, April 1991]
As a youth my late father worked on the land...Often handling horses it was common practice to tie bunches of elder leaves to the harness to ward off flies. [St Osyth, Essex, February 1989]
My wife, who comes from Northumberland, tells me that her mother used to make up a concoction with elder flower when she was a child. All the family washed their faces in it to keep virulent Northumbrian midges at bay. She remembers it smelling not too pleasant, and tended to keep other children away as well, so she would take the first opportunity to wash it off! [Hexham, Northumberland, June 1988]
About twelve years ago in Girton, Cambridge, a small swarm of bees (apparently known as a 'cast') settled on a plum tree in our garden, about six feet up. A neighbour, Mr C. G. Puck (now 84 years old), a retired shepherd and lifelong beekeeper, came to collect the bees. He removed the queen bee from the swarm and placed her under a small open wooden box inverted on the ground under the tree. He then asked for a sprig of elder and laid this about nine inches above the swarm, saying that the smell of it was disliked by bees, and by the early evening all the bees had moved into the box . . . He had learned of the use of elder in this fashion from his beekeeper father, in his native village of Thriplow, south Cambridgeshire. [Girton, Cambridge, May 1988]
On the Isle of Man:
Each old cottage has a 'trammon', or elderberry tree, outside the door. This is used by the 'Phynodderree' to swing in. He is a kind of faun who can bring much luck, and even helps materially in outside work. [Daily News, 27 January 1926]
[Fairies] liked most of all to swing and play in the elder trees, and these were always thought of as fairy trees in the Isle of Man. There wasn't a house or farm that didn't have its 'tramman' tree planted by the door or in the garden 'for the fairies'. Many of them are still to be seen; the single tree will soon have grown into a thicket, hiding the old ruined house, but a sure sign that a house once stood there . . . When the wind was blowing the branches, it was then that the fairies were believed to be riding the tramman trees, but it was said that they would desert a house or a farm where the trees had been cut down. This must have happened only very rarely: no-one would cut a branch of the tramman, let alone the tree itself, but if it was done the fairies grieved. [Killip, 1975: 35]
Regardless of whether elder is considered to be malevolent or protec- tive, most of the folk beliefs associated with the tree appear to be con- cerned with its protection and preservation. Two quotations from herbalists writing in the 1940s demonstrate the value of the elder tree.
[According to my [g*psy] friend] the healingest tree that on earth do grow be the elder, them sez, and take it all round I should say 'twas. [Quelch, 1941: 78]
[Elder has] the unusual distinction of being useful in every part. [Ransom, 1949: 55]
Thus it is possible that the various folk beliefs associated with elder were due, at least in part, to efforts to protect a valuable resource.
The period when elder flowered was sometimes considered to be a time when the weather was poor. In the Basingstoke area of Hampshire this time was known as the elderbloom winter [Maida Hill, Lon- don, December 1982], while in Cheshire:
Weather prophets say that if the weather breaks while the elder-flowers are coming out, it will be soaking wet (in Cheshire parlance, drabbly) until they fade. [Hole, 1937: 49]
Francis Bacon (1561–1626) recorded: 'They say' WARTS can be removed by rubbing them 'with a Green Elder Sticke and then bury- ing the Sticke to rot in Mucke' [Bacon, 1631: 258]. Similarly:
A 15-year-old girl, writing in 1954, says that her grandfather told her to pick a small twig of elderberry, touch her warts with it, chant the words, “Wart, wart, on my knee, Please go, one, two, three” and put it 'down the toilet'. [Opie, 1959: 315]
Elder is, perhaps, the wild plant most widely used in folk medicine.
Queen of all Forest [of Dean] remedies was 'ellum blow tea'...The flowers were gathered in the spring and hung up to dry in closed paper bags ... in the kitchen ... You dared not sneeze in the winter or down came the bag, a good handful was put in a jug, covered with boiling water, covered with a tea towel, and left to infuse. One had to force this evil-smelling brew down one's throat willy-nilly. I loathed it, and to this day can recall that smell of cats which emanated from it. Poultices of the mixture were used for SPRAINS, aches, etc., in joints, also for boils and 'gathered' fingers—whitlows and so on. It seemed to be a universal panacea; the only use it didn't have was for constipation . . . Elder berries were favoured too; they were boiled up with sugar, the resulting syrup strained, bottled, and used in winter for coughs and colds . . .There is not a Forester alive over the age of 70 who does not know ellum blow tea. [Cinder- ford, Gloucestershire, November 1993]
Elder berries when fried with mutton fat are used for BOILS and ULCERS. [IFCSS MSS 414: 43, Co. Clare]
Elder root when boiled and the water drank supposed to cure RHEUMAT- ISM. [IFCSS MSS 700: 35, Co. Meath]
An infusion of elder flowers in boiling water will alleviate PILES. [Horsted Keynes, West Sussex, February 1991]
A green ointment could be made from the leaves, based on mutton fat, and the creamy white flowers made Elderflower Water for the complexion. The flowers, dried in the sun and stored in a paper bag make a good remedy to break a hard COUGH and bring up phlegm. I always pick and dry some when they are in bloom, put the full of your fingers (one hand) in a mug, pour boiling water over and let it infuse for ten minutes. A little milk or fruit juice can be added. [Lenamore, Co. Longford, April 1991]
For flus and FEVERS
40 oz whiskey bottle. Pick, clean, weigh, one pound ripe elder berries. Delete the strings (most strings anyway) using a fork, and put berries into empty bottle. Add 4 lb sugar. Top up with a bottle (or most of a bottle) of whiskey. Seal well. Store for 3 months and strain. Use strongest spirit. Dose—Strong glass of this 'Elderfire'—add hot water (as hot as possible) and drink. Take 2 or 3 spoons of honey with drink. Repeat each night (or more frequently)–usually two nights is sufficient to clear the flu/fever results guaranteed. [Killarney, Co. Kerry, September 1991]
[My mother, who was 94 when she died in 1987] used to collect elder-flower in the spring, and dried it. In the winter if we had colds or flu, the elderflower was put in a jug covered with boiling water and put on the hob to stew. At night we were given this (strained) with sugar and a few drops of peppermint oil added. We were given a teacup full of this at night, and in the morning we had to drink half a cupful of this cold mixture. It was supposed to sweat out the fever. She used to tell me how she pulled me through PNEUMONIA by poulticing with hot flannel and sips of elderflower tea, day and night. [Hill, Worcestershire, October 1991]
When my three children were small and we had wintery weather (and it can be very cold up here at the foot of the Cairngorms), I made elder-flower wine, and when it was time for them coming from school I had three cups, bowl of sugar, bottle of elderflower wine and the kettle boiling, and I gave them a tody; they never had colds or flu. [Boat-of-Garten, Inverness-shire, November 1991]
Elder flowers and berries are widely collected by makers of homemade wines. The flowers can also be used in cooking [Ó’Ceirin, 1980: o1), and the fruits have been recommended as a substitute for currants [Ransom, 1949: 55]. Elder leaves have been used as a TOBACCO substitute.
Myself, my brother and a friend always smoked elder leaves when money was not available for tailor-made cigarettes. We spent much time in the woodland of Thetford Chase, where on our regular walks we would break down, but not completely snap off, small sprigs of the elder. We found that if we severed the supply of sap completely the leaves on the sprig would dry out resulting in a hot strong smoke. We found that if the leaves remained just slightly damp they were a quite pleasant smoke. It was obviously trial and error, sometimes they remained too wet to burn properly. We would stuff the leaves very lightly into the stems of various umbellifers...We actually prefered these cigarettes to the tailor-made, but they were not available during winter. [West Stow, Suffolk, November 1992]
Elder wood is characterized by its pith, which can be easily removed.
[On Colonsay] boys aspiring to be pipers made chanters of the young branches [of elder], which are full of pith and easily bored. [McNeill, 1910: 130].
Haw-blowers are made by scooping the pith out of an elder branch. Haws are blown through these. [IFCSS MSS 700: 338, Co. Meath]
The people of the parish were able to make toy guns. They got an elder stick about one and a half feet long and scraped out the inside. Then they got a stick about the same length and made it fit into the hole and then the gun was made. [IFCSS MSS 867: 132, Co. Kilkenny]
At the the beginning of the century children in parts of Devon used to make pop-guns' out of elder: they would force a hole through the pith, and then fashion a ram-rod out of HAZEL WOOD. Chewed paper would be rammed down the hollowed elder sticks, and pressed out with considerable force. Great sport ensued. [Lafonte, 1984: 35]
There was another use for the Boor tree in olden times. A suitable length was cut and seasoned, then the white pith in the centre was scraped out, lead was then melted and poured in. When set, this made a good weapon for protection on a journey or out walking at night...My aunt who was born in 1894 remembered one man who had such a stick. [Lenamore, Co. Longford, April 1991]
[In Horsefield, Cambridgeshire] for winter feeding one beekeeper used to make little troughs out of elder wood; he cut pieces about the thickness of a finger and five or six inches long, tapered off one end and removed the pith, and used them for replenishing the bees' honey by inserting this end in the exit hole. [Parsons MSS, 1952]”
Oxford Dictionary of Plant-Lore
by Roy Vickery
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rigmarolling · 5 years ago
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Historical Holiday Traditions We Really Need To Bring Back
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Here comes Santa Claus, and also a bunch of annual holiday Things we do to ensure he commits a truly boggling act of breaking and entering and leaves goods underneath the large plant in the living room.
Because I’ve always got a hankerin’ for the days of yore, here are some historical holiday traditions we really need to bring back:
1. Everything that happened on Saturnalia
Saturnalia was the ancient Roman winter festival held on December 25th--which is why we celebrate Christmas on that day and not on the day historians speculate Jesus was actually born, which was probably in the spring. 
Saturnalia was bonkers. As the name suggests, it celebrated the god Saturn, who represented wealth and liberty and generally having a great time.
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Above: Their party is way cooler than yours could ever hope to be.
During Saturnalia, masters would serve their slaves, because it was the one day during the year when everybody agreed that freedom for all is great, actually, let’s just do that. Everyone wore a coned hat called the pilleus to denote that they were all bros and equal, and also to disguise the fact that they hadn’t brushed their hair after partying hard all week, probably.
Gambling was allowed on Saturnalia, so all of Rome basically turned into ancient Vegas, complete with Caesar’s Palace, except with the actual Caesar and his palace because he was, you know. Alive. 
The most famous part (besides getting drunk off your rocker) was gift-giving--usually gag gifts. Historians have records of people giving each other some truly impressive white elephant gifts for Saturnalia, including: a parrot, balls, toothpicks, a pig, one single sausage, spoons, and deliberately awful books of poetry. 
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Above: Me, except all the time.
Partygoers also crowned a King of Saturnalia, which was a predecessor to the King of Fools popular in medieval festivals. The king was basically the head idiot who delivered absurd commands to everyone there, like, “Sing naked!” or “run around screaming for an hour,” or “slap your butt cheeks real hard in front of your crush; DO IT, Brutus.”
Oh, wait. Everyone was already doing all that. Hell yes.
(Quick clarification: early celebrations of Saturnalia did feature human sacrifice, so let’s just leave that bit out and instead wear the pointy hats and sing naked, okay? Io Saturnalia, everybody.)
2. Leaving out treats for Sleipnir in the hopes of avoiding Odin’s complete disregard for your property
The whole “leave out cookies and milk for Santa” thing comes from a much older tradition of trying to appease old guys with white beards. In Norse mythology, Odin, who was sort of the head god but preferred to be on a perpetual road trip instead, took an annual nighttime ride through the winter sky called the Wild Hunt. 
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Above: The holidays, now with 300% more heavy metal.
Variations of the Wild Hunt story exist in a bunch of European folklore--in Odin’s case, he usually brought along a bunch of supernatural buddies, like spirits and other gods and Valkyries and ghost dogs, who, the Vikings said, you could hear howling and barking as the group approached (GOOD DOGGOS).
That was the thing, though; you never actually saw Odin’s hunt--you only heard it. And hearing it did not spark the same sense of childish glee you felt when you thought you heard Santa’s sleigh bells approaching as a kid--instead, the Vikings said, you should be afraid. Be VERY afraid.
Because Odin could be kind of a dick.
Odin was also known as the Allfather, and like any father, he hated asking for directions. GPS who? I’m the Allfather, I’m riding the same way I always ride.
And that was pretty much it: “I took this road last year and I’m taking it again this year.”
“But,” someone would pipe up from the back, “there are houses on the road now--we’re gonna run right into them. We could just take a different path; there’s actually a detour off the--”
“Nope,” Odin would say. “They know the rules. My road, my hunt, my rules. We’re going this way.”
So if you were unlucky enough to have built your house along one of Odin’s favorite road trip sky-ways, he wouldn’t just plow right past you.
He would burn your entire house down--and your family along with it.
Kids playing in the yard? Torch ‘em; they should have known better. Grandma knitting while she waits for her gingerbread Einherjar to finish baking? Sucks to be her; my road, my rules, my beard, I’m the Allfather, bitch.
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Above: Santa, but so much worse.
To be fair to Odin, he could be a cool guy sometimes. He just turned into any dad when he was on a road trip and wanted to MAKE GOOD TIME, DAMN IT, I AM NOT STOPPING; YOU SHOULD HAVE PEED BEFORE WE LEFT.
To ensure they didn’t incur Odin’s road trip wrath, the Vikings had a few ways of smoothing things over with Dad.
They would leave Odin offerings on the road, like pieces of steel (??? okay ???) or bread for his dogs, or food for his giant, eight-legged horse, Sleipnir, because the only true way to a man’s heart is through his pet. 
People would generally leave veggies and oats and other horse-y things out for Sleipnir, whose eight legs made him the fastest flying horse in the world and also made him the only horse to ever win Asgard’s coveted tap dancing championship. 
(Side note: EIGHT legs...EIGHT tiny reindeer...eh? Eh? See how we got here? Thanks, nightmare horse!)
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Above: An excellent prancer AND dancer. 
And if Odin was feeling particularly charitable and not in the mood for horrific acts of arson, children would also leave their shoes out for him--it was said that he’d put gifts in your boots to ring in a happy new year.
If all that didn’t work and the Vikings heard the hunt approaching, they would resort to throwing themselves on the ground and covering their heads while the massive party sped above them like a giant Halloween rager. 
So this holiday season, leave your boots out for Odin and some carrots out for his giant spider horse or you and your entire family will die in a fiery inferno, the end.
3. Yule Logs
Speaking of Scandinavia, another Northern European winter solstice tradition was the yule log. Today, if you google “yule log,” something like this will pop up:
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...which isn’t an actual log, but is instead log-shaped food that you shove into your mouth along with 500 other cakes at the same time because it’s CHRISTMAS, and I’m having ME TIME; so WHAT if I ate the whole jar of Nutella by myself, alone, in the dark at 3 am?
But that log cake is actually inspired by actual logs of yore that Celtic, Germanic, and Scandinavian peoples decorated with fragrant plants like holly, ivy, pinecones, and other Stuff That Smells Nice before tossing the log into the fire.
This served a few purposes: 
It smelled nice, and Bath and Body Works scented candles hadn’t been invented yet.
It had religious and/or spiritual significance as a way to mark the winter solstice.
It was a symbolic way of ringing in the new year and kicking out the old.
Common belief held that the ashes of a yule log could ward off lightning strikes and bad energy.
Winter cold. Fire warm.
Everybody loves to watch things burn. (See: Odin.)
The yule log cakes we eat today got their start in 19th century Paris, when bakers thought it was a cute idea to resurrect an ancient pagan tradition in the form of a delicious dessert, and boy, howdy, were they right.
In any case, I’m 100% down with eating a chocolate yule log while burning an actual yule log in my backyard because everybody loves to watch things burn; winter cold, fire warm; and hnnnngggg pine tree smell hnnnnggg.
(Quick note:  The word “yule” is  the name of a traditional pagan winter festival, still celebrated culturally or religiously in modern pagan practice. It’s also another name for Odin. He had a bunch of other names, one of the most well-known being jólfaðr, which is Old Norse for “Yule father.” If you would like to royally piss him off, or if you are Loki, feel free to call him “Yule Daddy.”)
4. Upside down Christmas trees
I just found out that apparently, upside down Christmas trees are a hot new trend with HGTV types this year, so I guess this is one historical trend we did bring back, meaning it doesn’t really belong on this list, but I’m gonna talk about it, anyway.
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Side note: Oh, my god, that BANNISTER. I NEED.
Historians aren’t actually sure where the inverted Christmas tree thing came from, but we know people were bringing home trees and then hanging them upside down in the living room as early as the 7th century. We have a couple theories as to why people turned trees on their heads:
Logistically, it’s way easier to hang a giant pine tree from your rafters upside down by its trunk and roots. You just hoist that baby up there, wind some rope around the rafter and the trunk, and boom. Start decorating.
A Christian tradition says that one day in the 7th century, a Benedictine monk named Saint Boniface stumbled across a group of pagans worshipping an oak tree. So, instead of minding his own damn business, he cut the tree down and replaced it with a fir tree. While the pagans were like, “Dude, what the hell?” Boniface used the triangular shape of the fir tree to explain the concept of the holy trinity to the pagans. Some versions have him planting it right-side up, others having him displaying a fir tree upside down. Either way, it’s still a triangle that’s a solid but ultimately very rude way of explaining God. Word’s still out on whether anyone was converted or just rightly pissed off that this random guy strolled into their place of worship, chopped down their sacred tree, and plopped HIS tree down instead. Please do not do that this holiday season.
Eastern Europeans lay claim to the upside-down tree phenomenon with a tradition called podłazniczek in Poland--people hung the tree from the ceiling and decorated it with fruits and nuts and seeds and ribbons and other festive doodads. 
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(God, who lives in these houses? Look at that. That’s like a swanky version of Gaston’s hunting lodge. Where do I get one? Which enchanted castle do I have to stumble into to chill out in a Christmas living room like that?)
Today, at least in the West, upside-down trees are making a comeback because...I don’t know. Chip and Joanna Gaines said so. 
Some folks say it’s a surefire way to keep your cats from clawing their way through the tree and then puking up fir needles for weeks afterward, which checks out for me.
5. Incredibly weird Victorian Christmas cards
So back in the 19th century, the Christmas card industry was really getting fired up. Victorians loved their mail, let me tell you. They loved sending it. They loved getting it. They loved writing it. They loved opening it. They loved those sexy wax seals you use to keep all that sweet, sweet mail inside that sizzling envelope. (Those things are incredibly sexy. Have you ever made a wax seal? Oh, man, it’s hot.)
The problem, though, was that while the Victorians arguably helped standardize many of the holiday traditions we know and love today (Christmas trees, caroling, Dickens everything, spending too much money, etc.) back in 1800-whenever, a lot of that Christmas symbolism was, um...still under construction. No one had really agreed on which visual holiday cues worked and which...didn’t.
Meaning everyone just kind of made up their own holiday symbols. Which resulted in monstrous aberrations like this card:
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What the hell is that? A beet? Is that a beet? Or a turnip? Why is it...oh, God, why does it have a man’s head? Why does the man beet have insect claws? 
What is it that he’s holding? A cookie? Cardboard? A terra cotta planter?
And then there’s this one:
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“A Merry Christmas to you,” it says, while depicting a brutal frog murder/mugging. 
What are you trying to tell me? Are you threatening me with this card? Is that it? Is this a threat? How the hell am I supposed to interpret this? “Merry Christmas, hide your money or you’re dead, you stupid bitch.”
Also, why is the dead frog naked? Did the other frog steal his clothes after the murder? WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH THIS?
Victorian holiday cards also doubled as early absurdist Internet memes, apparently, because how else do I explain this?
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Is this some sort of tiny animal Santa? A mouse riding a lobster? Like, the mouse, I get. Mice are fine. Disney built an empire on a mouse. And look, he’s got a little list of things he’s presumably going to bring you: Peace, joy, health, happiness. (In French. Oh, wait, is that that Patton Oswalt rat?)
But a LOBSTER? What’s with the lobster? It’s basically a sea scorpion. Why in the name of all that is good and holy would you saddle up a LOBSTER? I hate it. I hate it so, so much. Just scurrying around the floor with more legs than are strictly necessary, smelling like the seafood section of Smith’s, snapping its giant claws.
This whole card is a health inspector’s worst nightmare. It really is.
I gotta say, though, I am a fan of this one:
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Presumably, that polar bear is going in for a hug because nothing stamps out a polar bear’s innate desire to rip your face from your skull than candy canes and Coke and Christmas spirit.
This next one is actually fantastic, but for all the wrong reasons:
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I know everyone overuses “same” these days but geez, LOOK at that kid. I can HEAR it. SAME.
If you’ve ever been in a shopping mall stuffed with kids, nothing sums it up better than this card. This is like the perverse version of those Anne Geddes portraits that were everywhere in the late 90s. “Make wee Jacob sit in the tea pot; everyone will--Jacob, STOP, look at Mommy; I said LOOK. AT. MOMMY--everyone will love it.”
Actually, you know what? Every other Christmas card is cancelled. This is the only card we will be using from now on. This is it. 
Wait, no. We can also use this one:
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Merry Christmas. Here’s a fuckin’...just a dead fuckin’ bird.
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apapertrail-journalsir · 3 years ago
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“the drunkards disease.” 6/18/21 3:04pm Final Copy
They say to just start writing even if you don’t want to, same as most things; practice makes perfect.
Now, with that being said, I want to talk about my father today the only way I know how to, through a piece of paper.
Which “technically” is just a handwritten projection of my own thoughts, so I guess I’m just venting to myself right now.
How Original.
My father has been in the hospital for days now, not getting any better. He’s been told his pancreas is dying, which is causing his liver enzymes to be fucked up. This as a result, will progressively lead his liver to fail. Concluding this sick and twisted domino effect.
“the drunkards disease”
I remember in my adolescent years, always complaining about my parents excessive drinking, of course words couldn’t even begin to describe the severity of what went on in my “home” every night after I got home from school. Every time I stepped foot down the school bus stairs onto the worn down asphalt of my street, it was like I was preparing to march into battle. Anxiety would suffocate me as I approached the front door.
This was a every single day reality for me and the only people who truly understood, were my siblings.
I read online that although it is possible “in EXTREME cases”, most heavy alcoholics don’t develop these issues until around 65-70 years old.
My dad is 51 and most likely won’t see the day he turns 52.
I am a fully committed pessimist unfortunately, not even a raging optimist can argue with the test results.
But would you like to know what frustrates me the most, leaving me tossing and turning wide fucking awake in the earliest hours of the morning?
The fact that he’s not telling me anything!
Don’t get me wrong, our relationship is in complete ruins but regardless, don’t you think that if he got his results back he should be updating me on something as important as that? It would be worth mentioning that I asked about the test results three times that same day.
Only to be thoroughly ignored, ALL THREE FUCKING TIMES.
The whole situation is just all types of fucked up.
I asked my youngest brother what hospital he was being treated at and he confirmed that my father is at the one only about 15 minutes away from my house. I’ve been debating back and forth for two damn days now on randomly showing up unannounced to his room in hopes to see him one last time, but when I get there what am I even going to say?
I genuinely don’t even know this man anymore and vice versa.
What the fuck do I say to the man who cold heartedly kicked out his first born son while still a teen. Selfishly leaving him to fend for himself on the unpredictably violent streets of the inner city. Meanwhile, he soundly rests his bald head comfortably in his materialistic kingdom of a home, filled with nothing but regrets and ruled by his new, stink eyed, pot belly queen.
The same exact man who looked deep in his sons struggling eyes and said he would never give up on him, and then did.
So now, here I am crying about a shitty and selfish man, who should have never been a father in the first place!!
Stupid.
I will admit, I do understand why that man is the way he is, he never truly had a solid chance at mental stability. Given away at birth and raised by his adopted parents, only to find his own adopted dad, dead in the kitchen by his own hand.
So, you tell me if you think he had a chance?
On second thoughts let me revise that, he did have a split in the road decision but took the wrong route, only to end up a bitter old man.
He had a chance, until his hand met that bottle. Refusing to put it down for a little to long.
Foolishly picked up, as a very effective maladaptive coping skill to numb the constant pain that subsides deep down inside his blackened heart.
Then, this same man hypocritically crucifies ME for struggling with addiction and chemical dependency issues so bad the majority of my life,
HM, I WONDER WHY???
MAYBE, IT’S BECAUSE THAT’S HOW I WAS TAUGHT TO DEAL WITH PAIN MY WHOLE CHILDHOOD!
Fuck.
I don’t know how many times I’ve attempted to explain my BPD and it’s anchoring roots, birthed from the seeds planted during the most impressionable years of my childhood.
Damning me to grow up to be a very mentally unstable and insecure shell of a man.
Still, they would without fail deny deny deny taking part in my inevitable downfall at all.
Acting like a bunch of clueless chickens with their heads chopped off, running around screaming... “what could we have done!?!????”
A fuck ton.
Yet you were always WAY to self absorbed and heartless to realize what you were ultimately doing to your oldest sons underdeveloped brain.
A sensitive brain.
So nowadays, I’m over it and bridges have burned.
I may bury my feelings the same way, but at least I never gave up like a fucking coward.
Where were you?
You weren’t fucking there,
so what’s done is done as what’s said is said.
In conclusion, I wholeheartedly swear to everyone reading this disaster-piece that it will be a cold cold day in Hell if I EVER abandon MY OWN son for struggling and needing his father. Just to shun him away as he continuously BEGS and BEGS to make amends in a attempt to solidify our damaged relationship once more.
I’m shedding tear after tear, still alone, preparing myself to mourn a man I once called “Dad” and now is nothing more then a painfully saddening memory... for the rest of my days.
You may ask me why I care so much about a failure of a father/husband. who has absolutely no place in his heart for his own son,
only for that stupid fucking bottle?
Because,
I loved you dad.
i.r.
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etraytin · 4 years ago
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Quarantine, Day 194
September 21
So I didn't get done anything that involved leaving the house today, which is not great. It was just kind of a failure to launch day, I guess. I did get stuff done inside the house though; folded the laundry, made an enormous pot of spaghetti and meatballs, dewormed the kittens, etc. I will definitely have to leave the house tomorrow because when the kiddo realized tomorrow is going to be gorgeous all day, he was sad until I told him we could try doing school outside by hotspotting off my phone. (unlimited data on the family plan ftw!) He has now come up with an elaborate plan that also involves snacks and drinks, so I may have to get up a bit earlier than usual to set stuff up. I'm nobody's Pinterest Mom, but it's nice to do something a little different and fun sometimes. 
I realized I've been falling a little behind on watering my garden because I got so used to the rain, so I gave everything a good drink and perked it up today. I also harvested some more lemongrass and some ginger leaves and made a very nice tea from them. I learned today that lemongrass is perennial, so there is a possibility it might live through the winter and come back next year. It's not certain because I planted it in the most ridiculous possible spot, one of the side pockets in a strawberry pot, but it apparently liked it there well enough to grow like crazy all through the late summer. It and the lavender both survived, the cilantro grew and flowered and died, and the dill apparently didn't like being there. I did not put any strawberries in the strawberry pot this year because the plants I bought were too big. I think we may have explored this topic in the early early days of this journal but that was a thousand years ago and I do not remember. The ginger leaves just came from some ginger root that I forgot to use and stuck in an unused pot of dirt when it got all wrinkly. It grew beautifully! (Here's the strawberry pot early this summer on its trip to North Carolina. I got it in Laredo and it is one of my favorite things.)
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I explained to the kiddo that today was the autumnal equinox, the day of the year where day and night are balanced, just before the nights start getting longer. He sighed and wished it was the other way around, so I also explained the vernal equinox. He was not impressed. He spent more time outdoors today and also a lot of time in with the kittens. They are at an extremely fun age right now, though apparently Audiva nearly got him chat banned on his minecraft server for typing gibberish. I can empathize, Sebell nearly installed the Harris Teeter app on my phone this evening by sitting on it. The biggest problem with the kiddo's current kitten preoccupation is definitely his allergies, poor kid. At least we have allergy meds for him. I also gave the kittens their second dewormer this evening, to take care of any nasty little roundworms. It's only Pyrantel though, so they'll probably need Drontal as well to take care of any tapeworms. Any kitten who has had fleas might have tapeworms, yucky. Better to take care of it while they are young and in foster! 
I keep telling myself that it is almost the end of the month, but it really is not. I can put off shopping for a few more days, but not ten full days till payday. The good news is I did get paid for some mystery shops I did a few weeks ago, so that's 70 dollars in pay any reimbursement that can go towards groceries. I already told my shopping people that I'm not doing any more restaurant shops this month because I'm out of money. They understand, they don't exactly have glamorous high-paying jobs themselves. I may, I suppose, do a couple of grocery store shops because I have to get groceries anyway, may as well take the edge off by getting a little bit paid for, right? If only it weren't the most expensive grocery stores hiring mystery shoppers! I have an extensive list by now that just keeps growing and growing, but the only thing I bought today was another pack of 50 disposable masks. They're cheap on Amazon if you don't mind waiting a month for them to ship, so I have just been ordering a new pack (about six dollars) every few weeks and assuming I will be ready for them by the time they arrive. 
In the meantime, I made a huge pot of spaghetti tonight so that we will have several meals worth of leftovers. I also pulled a ham out of the freezer (buy your ham after the ham holidays, so cheap!) and by the time the spaghetti is gone, the ham should be ready to cook. My husband doesn't like ham by itself much, but ham is incredibly versatile and can go into a million things. Plus ham salad is one of my favorite lunch foods ever. Anyway, I chopped up an onion and cooked it in a little butter till it was just starting to go a little golden, then threw in garlic and a pound of ground beef and a bunch of Penzey's Pasta Sprinkle. I used my Dutch oven because I wanted to make _lots._ When the meat was cooked I sponged off some of the grease with paper towels, then added an undrained can of diced tomatoes, a couple spoonsful of sugar, some salt and pepper, and three cans of the cheapest brand of spaghetti sauce. You really can't beat the convenience and volume of just oomphing up the kind of sauce that's 88 cents for a 20 ounce can. I threw in a bunch of frozen meatballs and simmered it for twenty minutes, then added a few big handfuls of mozzarella cheese and served it over angel hair. Very popular, and so many leftovers! I am the best at dinner. 
This day’s entry is already getting long, but I really ought to remember the Punching Mattress for posterity as well. The kiddo is now happy in his new bed on his new mattress, which means the old bed is kaput. I sold the twin frame in less than a day on Facebook Marketplace for 25 dollars. I paid 90 for it in 2013, so it was a good deal for both parties.  The mattress is only about a year old, but the kiddo has had a few destructive-feelings days and kind of severely messed up the fabric on one end. So it's not likely we're going to be able to do anything with that mattress and for now it is leaning against the wall in our entrance hallway like we're expecting a human cannonball over for dinner. I don't even remember who started it now, but it has become a good place to let off some excess energy by pretending you are a superhero or a championship martial artist. Yelling "punch, punch, punch!" while punching the mattress is optional but encouraged unless somebody is in a Zoom class. It's good exercise, and cathartic, too! I'm kind of melancholy about the idea of getting rid of it already.   
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theemperorsfeather · 4 years ago
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Finally finally repotted a bunch of spider plants. I have been saying for probably a couple of years, "I really need to tip them out, give them a nice root pruning, and stuff them back in with nice fresh potting mix," and today it got done.
If I didn't know spider plants are extremely tough plants, I'd have done it sooner, and I have only done about half of them . . . the other half are all in nice, compact, 4" pots and I'm greatly afraid they might need to be moved into 6" pots (I mean . . . they've been in 4" for A While and tbh I know they'd probably appreciate more space) and there is the eternal challenge of where will I fit 5 or 6 more 6" pots??
In one pot, there were 2 moderately sized plants and two itty bitty tiny ones, which are now sharing their very own 4" pot, so they may have a chance to get a little bigger. (Because I need more, right? . . . As if this is all about what I "need.") The spiders seem to er, like, sharing space with one or more others, but there are limits.
By the way, if you have never repotted a spider plant, these suckers have pretty massive root systems - they develop these very fat, thickened sections of their roots, I don't know if they are actually tubers or just tuber-like in appearance - but it's pretty intense, and probably accounts for their ability to survive all kinds of abuse (especially being not-watered). I chopped a bunch off of most of the plants, because it has been my experience that doing this encourages a lot of healthy new growth (true for many plants, not just spider plants; protip: don't prune more than 1/3 of roots or stems).
Also potted up 2 cuttings that had made lots of roots in water in very short order, and moved a couple plants in 2" pots into 4" - one of them is actual a summer-outside plant, so out it goes! Hooray, more space on the windowsill! Just in time for the cuttings that got moved into pots (one of which was made from the same summer-outside plant, so when it gets bigger it, too, can go out, but a 2" pot would dry out in horrifically short order in our climate).
Also also: moved the smaller rhubarb in the smaller pot into its nice "new" (used) 10 gal pot, where I expect it will stay until whenever I get to live somewhere I feel good about putting plants in the ground. Larger rhubarb will get done some other day. (More plants in the "why do I even HAVE this?!" file; because they needed saving from certain doom, that's why.)
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pine-lark · 4 years ago
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More berries and such I saw on my run for Arion! What are your thoughts, little guy?
—-
*I… got a bit carried away with this, haha. Arion’s answer is below this, but under the cut I have a bunch of lil pictures I drew (on my phone haha, don’t judge the messy lines)
“Are… are those… even real? I’ve- never- ever in my life s-seen anything… like… um. That. Um. I don’t even know where to start. 
“Well- I think I’d start by peeling off the outer layer of the top left, um, fruit… thing. I-I’d assume that whatever’s on the inside would be sort of fruity? It’s got a bit of pink coloration which is a good sign. Usually, um, pink plants are sweet. 
“The yellow thing looks… interesting. It looks k-kind of like, like a gourd, or a tiny melon, or something. But it’s very… saturated, and very yellow. My guess is it’s either very very bitter like a citrus or has maybe kind of a flat tart taste, kind of like a pepper or squash, or something. So in that case I’d use it in soup. And um, that’s the kind of thing that would go well with dark grass, the kind that grows near the creek. And maybe some tall yellow grass weeds— I’m, I’m not sure what those are actually called. It’s the thing that grows in fields that has the kind of, the little wheat thing on top. No, no, actually- roots. I’d take the roots of that red flower and boil those with it instead. A-and if it’s bitter… charcoal would be able to dampen the bitterness. 
“Actually- a lot of this would go well together. Um… you could use those berries and some pumpkin seeds and roots and the yellow thing for, for a base.. and then add the grass from the creek and charcoal and the flowers or fruits or whatever on the red flower. Then um, I’d add some river stones, probably. N-not to eat, of course! But it usually, um, neutralizes a little bit of any sourness left over from boiling, and helps it cook faster and stay warm. I-I had a big hearth, um, back at home, before… um. Anyway if I, if it was still- I’d set the bowl by the fire and leave it until it smells stronger. Usually that’s- that’s how you can tell, if something’s done. And… as for the fruit thing, I’d probably chop that up with my cutting stone, and eat it as a side?” 
(tumblr’s being weird and it won’t let me put the images side by side on desktop,,, so I’ll have to post this first and then edit it. For now all the pictures are just h u g e)
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spookyceph · 4 years ago
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Garden-variety
ShigaDabi Week Day 5 | Civilians
Summary: Just your average, everyday family. Nothing to see here.
Rating: SFW
Warnings: Swearing
The door swings open, setting off a pleasant tinkle from the bell hung above it. The man who enters the shop halts two steps in. Stares, moon-eyed, at the wall-to-wall jungle surrounding him. Plants hang from the ceiling, trailing shiny leaves and flowers as big as an open hand just overhead. They cluster on shelves outfitted with lights and temperature control running along both walls, organized by type and need: prickly cacti, tender herbs, seasonal blooms, medicinal roots. Potted specimens that populated office buildings just like the one he’d clocked out from not long ago dominate the tiled floor, leaving only a narrow path to the register deeper in. The air is close and sweet and alive with the scent of green, growing things. When the man received directions to this side street he’d had his doubts. Now he sees why Anai from accounting recommended it. Though small, the shop has impressive variety as well as healthy stock. He walks up to the counter and gives the service bell a single, polite tap.
A tall figure emerges from a doorway to the right. The man freezes halfway through his standard smile of greeting.
It has to be an employee. Maybe even the owner. Logic leaves no room for other explanations. Yet the mental images the man carries of such people share as much in common with what he sees as a poodle does with a wolf. It has nothing to do with the scars—though they’re impossible to miss. They ripple up the stranger’s forearms and cover the whole lower half of his face, mottled pink and white, textured like a half-melted wax museum figure. No, it’s more the multiple piercings gleaming in both ears, the side of the nose, right eyebrow, even two in the scarred lower lip. Another factor is the spiky mess of half-white, half-black hair. His clothes clinch it. They have a worn, handmade look, his shirt a thin linen, and rips in a few random places on his jeans.
The way he arches a brow, wiping long-fingered hands on a rag, does nothing to dispel first impressions. “Yes?”
Though the question is curt, the voice asking it remains rather soft. Its still enough to throw the man further off balance.
“I…er…flowers?”
The lack of coherency doesn’t slow the stranger a but. “Anniversary, funeral, hot date, what?”
“Um, well, an apology, actually.”
“To whom, and how bad did you fuck up?”
The man clutches his messenger bag to his chest as if it’s a shield. “E-excuse me?”
Employee, owner, whoever he is sighs and throws the rag onto the counter. “I don’t give a shit about the details—I’m a florist, not your therapist. But I do need some idea of what you’re going for so I can plan accordingly. So, again, who’d you piss off, and how much?”
Anyone with a decent amount of common sense and even a scrap of pride would have told the odd stranger to mind his own business, thank you very much. Maybe even stormed out. Written a bad review. Found some way to file a complaint. The man knows this. Yet nothing about their interaction thus far suggests the other would regret the loss of a customer whatsoever. More important, something in the unflinching intensity of the stranger’s electric-blue eyes says that threatening him in any way would be a bigger mistake than what the flowers are for in the first place.
So, suddenly sweating and feeling suffocated by the shop’s tropical air, the man stammers out the truth. “M-my girlfriend.”
The other takes one look at his red, damp face and nods. “That bad, huh? Fine. I’ll see what I can do. No promises, though.”
Meek as a mouse, he watches the shopkeeper—the stranger can be no one else, fearless as he is—pull a pair of shears from his back pocket. He goes to one shelf, clipping several examples of a deep purple flower that grows in long clusters. Going to another, he cuts a few sprigs of bluebells—these the man recognizes. Lastly, he gathers a bunch of large clovers from a long tray. Selections decided, the florist goes to work arranging them.
The purple flowers he staggers at descending heights so the clusters aren’t mashed together. Between them, the bluebells are hung like strings of tears. Partway below the other two, he groups the clovers. All three are bound with a rubberband around the stems and slipped into a narrow glass vase from beneath the counter. He sets the arrangement down.
“There you go. Anything else?”
With one look, the man forgives the shopkeeper’s rough edges. While flowers won’t make up for anything, the thought and beauty of these serve as a promise that he’s willing to back the gesture up with action.
“These are perfect. Thank you.” He surrenders his credit card.
“You’ll want a pink rose from the place two streets over next time,” the florist says while ringing him up. “I don’t usually carry any here.”
The man blinks. “Next time?”
“After your girlfriend and the other woman dump you. A pink rose is a good choice for people on a first date. Romantic, but not as intense as a red one.”
His heart and jaw drop simultaneously. “B-but…you don’t think…they won’t both dump me, will they?”
Bright blue eyes piercing, the florist hands the credit card back. “Only if they’re smart. Have a nice evening.”
Shell-shocked, the man shambles his way to the exit, flowers in hand, glazed stare not registering the shop door as it opens before he reaches it. Nor the boy with half red, half white hair who holds it open for him with a wry smile as he staggers out.
The door closes quietly behind the newcomer.
“Another satisfied customer, I see.” His soft-spoken cadence bears an unmistakable resemblance to the shopkeeper’s, just as his face, hair, and left eye do.
“He had it coming. Anyway, you have uncanny timing. He was my last for the day.”
Shrugging, the boy holds up the plastic shopping bag in his right hand. “Fuyumi sent me to pick up a few things for dinner tonight. I figured I might as well walk home with you since I was in the area.”
“And make sure your delinquent older brother stays out of trouble. Right.” The florist sighs. “It’s been two years since Deika City, Shōto. No one’s come after my head. Not much of a Hero Commission left to.”
“That doesn’t mean the remainder aren’t still looking. Natsuo, Fuyumi, and I are just watching your back, Touya.”
“Keeping me on a short leash, you mean.”
“Your husband agrees with us.”
“My husband can use whatever leash he wants on me. It’s just annoying when you three do it.”
The boy’s—Shōto’s—nose wrinkles. “Too much information.”
“Like you don’t feel the same about your friend. The one that was over last—”
A sudden cough interrupts him. “I’m not one of the country’s most wanted villains.”
The shopkeeper—Touya—presses a hand to his chest. “I’m but a humble florist. Not a villainous bone in my body.”
“Explain the theft charges then.”
Black eyebrows shoot up. “What theft charges?”
“Stealing my hair’s color scheme, you jerk.”
A smirk creeps across Touya’s face. “There’s hope for you yet.”
-
As predicted, they arrive home without incident. While Shōto goes to deliver the groceries to Fuyumi and Natsuo, who can be heard clattering around in the kitchen, Touya heads to the other side of the sprawling house. Also as expected, he slides open the partition to his room and finds a blanket-draped figure still sitting on the futon, hunched over a handheld game.
“Haven’t moved since I left this morning, have you?” he says with no real disapproval.
“Nope,” comes the shameless reply.
Smiling, Touya kneels beside the figure and pulls the top part of the blanket away. Long white hair that curls every which way is revealed. The figure’s eyes don’t tear themselves away from the flickering screen. Eyes as red as the crown of camellias Touya plops onto the other’s head.
At last, the game pauses.
“Must be the end of the week if you’re bringing me dead plants.” The way the crimson eyes look everywhere but at Touya ruin the sneer on chapped, scarred lips, though.
“Tenko.”
“What?”
Touya leans in, closer and closer, until the concept of personal space vanishes, and he has to be stopped with an annoyed—yet still gentle—elbow to the ribs.
“What? What do you—?”
“Nothin’.” He tucks some of the unruly curls behind the other man’s ear. “Just happy to see you is all.”
That does the trick. Tenko’s gaze locks with his for a split second before skittering away again. Touya watches, biting the insides of his cheeks to hold back a laugh, as his husband grabs an empty cup beside the futon. He fumbles, nearly dropping it—and not because one hand is missing fingers either.
“Make yourself useful and get me some water.”
“Hm…you are looking flushed.” Touya puts a palm to Tenko’s forehead. “You’re not coming down with a fever, are you?”
The offending hand is smacked away. “I’m your king. You aren’t allowed to make fun of me. I forbid it.”
With a bow meant to hide his grin more than anything else, Touya takes the cup and heads for the kitchen.
One glance at the piles of chopped vegetables covering the counter tell him something is up.
“We expecting an army?” he asks as he opens the refrigerator.
“Just three of your friends who led one,” Natsuo replies, still slicing and adding to the heap (and occasionally sneaking a bite or two). “Tenko asked if we could have them over tonight.”
Touya’s fingers slip on the handle of the water pitcher. Only a last-second scoop and grab saves it from shattering all over the floor. “He did? When?”
“A couple of days ago.” Fuyumi taste-tests whatever she has simmering on the stove before adding a pinch of salt. “They’ll be here in a couple of hours.”
“Atsuhiro-san offered to bring sushi, but…” Natsuo taps the knife on the cutting board, looking bemused. “I think he was joking? Only I don’t get it.”
“He’s joking if he knows what’s good for him.” Body curiously light, Touya closes the refrigerator. “Need any help?”
Fuyumi shakes her head and wipes her steamed up glasses off on the hem of her shirt. “We took care of most of the prep work before you came home from work. Anyway, we’ve agreed to keep all sharp objects away from you.”
“Besides, you over spice everything,” chimes in Natsuo.
“Haha. Everyone in this house is suddenly full of snappy comebacks.”
“We learned from the best.”
-
Touya is still smiling when he returns to the bedroom. Not only has Tenko gotten up, but he’s in the middle of stripping off his pajamas. As he pulls his shirt over his head, Touya admires the dozes of scars crisscrossing his torso. The scars that had bought their lives. That proved how far he was willing to go for those he loved.
“Hm?” Tenko drops the shirt and blinks down at the finger tracing an old, jagged slice running diagonally through his chest. The flower crown is still on his head, though askew.
“You asked the others to come over.”
Caught, he raises one hand to the side of his neck, lightly scratching. “Yeah, well…it’s been a while since we saw them, that’s all.”
Touya sets the cup aside on the dresser. Gently pulls the worrying fingers away, pressing them over his heart instead. The index and thumb lift to keep away from full contact purely out of habit.
“I’m glad.”
Tension drains away from Tenko’s posture with a sigh. His free hand rises to stroke the pinkish ripples of scar tissue on Touya's cheek. The ripples that had once been so much half-living skin on a half-dead man.
“You know…they won’t be here for a couple hours yet.” A smile flickers to life on Tenko’s face as the heartbeat under his palm picks up its tempo.
“I suppose we can keep busy in the meantime. We never did cross everything off those lists of ours.”
Tenko’s eyebrows leap up. “You remember what was left on them? Off the top of your head?”
Smirking, Touya leans in to nuzzle his neck. “I only went over them about a million times, imagining doing everything with you.”
Though Tenko huffs, his eyes go half-lidded, breath speeding up a notch. “Do you happen to remember whose turn it was to pick then?”
“Hmm…no. But I concede the choice to you.”
“How generous.”
“You are my king, after all.”
Tenko’s hand buries itself in the undyed half of Touya’s hair. “I am, aren’t I?” A tug earns a rewarding gasp. “Even though you’ve always been the sort of subject who follows orders only when he wants to.”
“You finally gonna teach me to behave?”
“Doubtful.” A show of teeth, thrilling and fearsome. “But I guess I’ll just have to keep trying, won’t I? You’re bound to learn one of these days.”
An answering smirk. “Sure. One of these days.”
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thestudentfarmer · 4 years ago
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Today's happenings~
Today's been a pretty busy day, got a tarp that we believe will be good to solarize the soil and kill the stinky bermuda grass invasion and the plan now is to pull everything, tarp the area for 3 or so weeks and peel back and plant as the seedlings are ready to be planted :)
also got a new weed eater that is battery pack powered (and the pack can be used for other tools too! Yay!!) Because the old one is not responding well to being repaired/cleaned anymore and starts smoking and vibrating kinda scarily after bout tenish minutes ...
Though tbh I'm suprised it lasted as long as it did, it was a super cheap electric plug type that I dont think was ever supposed to be a repaired in anyway. But I always prefer to repair first if I can and it was a good learning experience on how to take apart and clean/repair.
I"m rambling off, after I get my main garden area done I plan on cleaning up and area near my ducks to put in some raised beds for carrots, potatoes and other root veggies. Might even clear an area and compost/mulch it to specifically grow sweet corn next spring! 💖
The louffa plants I'm growing got so big they caused their trellis to collapse! I had to prop them up and trim a bunch up, bit it didn't go to waste as I gave the trimmings to the chickens to peck and scratch at for extra fun and eats.
Lots of little sprouts coming in, if I remember to grab it tomorrow I'll share some updates pictures!
Also had a bunch of bread making going on, some yummy jalapeno cheddar farmers bread made up and devoured with homemade egg n sausage gravy, chile breads and as well some banana muffins made from the last few funny bananas that always end up being around lol (ot is that just our household?),
Made several kinds too~ plain banana, banana with nuts, chocolate banana chip and chocolate cherry banana chip.
Sadly it's a bit late in the day for me to try out any of the good eats, but they will make excellent breakfast before I go out to task myself with weeding, pulling and very possibly tarping~
Pictures of some yummy dough below
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Btw, if you haven't tried the no knead farmers bread recipe I posted awhile ago find it and try it if you can! Its good and very versatile! This time i used about 5 minced jalapenos and a few handfuls of shredded cheese and real fine minced garlic. Next time I'll add more fine shred chopped cheese and jalapenos but it was super good still!
Anyways That's my update for now :) I hope everyone is doing well, learning new skills and enjoying their day/night as best they can!
🌱 🌻Happy Gardening~ 🌻 🌱
8 12 2020
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fuyonggu · 4 years ago
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Cao Jiong’s “Discourse on the Six Dynasties” (Short Version)
This is a shorter version of this post.
Discourse on the Six Dynasties
By Cao Yuanshou
Among the dynasties of ancient times, Xia, Yin (Shang), and Zhou each lasted for dozens of generations, while Qin perished after only two. Why was this? Because the lords of those three dynasties shared control of the people of the realm, thus the lords of the realm saw the sovereign's concerns as their own concerns, while the kings of Qin monopolized control of the people, thus in times of danger and distress no one was willing to come to their aid. Those with whom you share your joys will likewise sympathize with your sorrows; those you make your peers in peace will be your saviors when danger comes. The ancient kings knew that the sovereign who reigned alone could not ensure an orderly realm for long, thus they shared power with others in order to obtain stability; they knew that the ruler who defended the realm alone could not guard it forever, thus they shared responsibility with others in order to attain security. Both their intimate relatives and their distant kinfolk were employed; both members of their clan and outsiders from other surnames were advanced. Those of more or less power worked together to protect each other; those of the same or different blood acted in concert to shield one another. There were neither instances of "total annexation", nor were "traitorous impulses" allowed to fester.
Even when the Zhou dynasty was in decline, Duke Huan of Qi and Duke Wen of Jin still treated the King with respect and acted on his behalf. When the state of Chu refused to present its tribute of grass and thatch to the King, the state of Qi led an army to punish them; when the state of Song refused to help build walls around the King's capital at Chengzhou (Luoyang), the state of Jin executed their minister. Though the King's laws became lax and loose for a time, they were once again enforced; though the feudal lords become arrogant for a season, they were once more reverent.
It was said that "after the age of these two Hegemons (Dukes Huan and Wen), the feudal lords became boorish and remiss". Indeed, the states of Wu and Chu were defiant, trusting in the Yangzi to be their bulwark and the stout square walls of their cities to be their rampart. Yet though in their hearts they sought to "inquire after the Nine Tripods" (as though they had more right to dominion than the King), even then they feared to go so far as to outright threaten or oppress the royal clan. Wicked feelings scattered in the breast; treasonous plots died on the lips. Was it not because the King had trusted and empowered his kinfolk and relatives and employed and used the worthy and able? Don't the branches and the leaves grow great and luxurious because the roots and the stem depend upon them?
But from that time on, incessant fighting broke out between the states. Wu was taken over by Yue, and Jin split into three; Lu was conquered by Chu, and Zheng was annexed into Hann. Although originally most of the families of the feudal lords had come from the royal Ji family, by the time of the Warring States era, most of these royal relatives were long gone, and only in the states of Yan and Wey did they still rule. What was left of the King's domain was small and pathetic, threatened by powerful Qin to the west and menaced by fearsome Qi and Chu to the south; though they sought deliverance from their destruction, there was no one left to take pity on them. And even after King Nan was deposed to become a commoner, still the branches of the state grasped at each other's power, squabbling over an empty title. For more than forty years, the land within the Seas had no master.
The state of Qin occupied a powerful and influential region and was crafty at the arts of lying and deceit. Thus they were successful in their campaigns against the lords east of the mountains and were able to nibble the Nine States down to nothing. And by the time of the First Emperor, the imperial throne was once again filled. Yet when Qin employed force like this and a lack of virtue like that, how could they expect to last? In what sense did they have deep roots or a thick stem, to prevent themselves from being yanked up?
The Book of Changes states, "Though they cry 'perish, perish', he plants himself firm like a mulberry." Zhou was virtuous, and their longevity was because of it; such a verse could well describe them.
When the First Emperor of Qin considered the decline of Zhou, he felt that it was the weakness of the Zhou kings that had caused them to lose power. Thus he abolished the old system of the Five Noble Titles and organized the realm into commandaries and counties instead, and he threw out the methods of teaching the people through music and ritual behavior in favor of imposing stern and harsh government. His younger relatives received not an inch of land as fief, and his accomplished ministers had not a spade of land to call their own. Within, there were no royal relatives who might assist the state, and without, there were no feudal lords who might shield the realm from harm. He did not show a benevolent heart towards his flesh and blood, nor extend any kindness towards those who might have served as his branches and leaves. He was like a person who cuts off their own arms and legs, content to live as a mere torso; he was like a ship which, before crossing a wide river or a deep ocean, throws away its oars. There were many whose hearts turned cold when considering the danger of such a situation. Yet the First Emperor remained serene, believing that the capital area of Guanzhong was such an impenetrable region, a "bastion of golden walls and a thousand li", that his descendants would rule as sovereigns for ten thousand generations. Wasn't it ridiculous?
At the time, Chunyu Yue tried to remonstrate with him. He told the First Emperor, "I have heard that the Kings of Yin and Zhou granted fiefs to their relatives and their accomplished ministers, and their dynasties lasted for more than a thousand years. Now Your Majesty has become lord of all the realm within the Seas, yet your relatives are no more than commoners. Someday our dynasty might face the same threat of usurpation as happened with Tian Chang in Qi or the Six Ministerial Clans in Jin, yet Your Majesty has not provided for any powerful subjects who might help to guide affairs in the capital; who would step in to save the royal family? I have never once heard of any state which failed to heed the teachings of the ancients in these matters and yet long endured."
But the First Emperor dismissed these principles and heeded the advice of Li Si instead. And thus, on the day of his death, there was no one to whom he could entrust the future of the state. The weighty decisions of the realm were left in the hands of a miscreant, and the power to decide who and who would not inherit the throne was left to the words of a wicked subject. People like Zhao Gao were even able to bring about the slaughter and uprooting of the royal family.
Ying Huhai (the Second Emperor) had been instructed in the teachings of severity and oppression since youth, and he honored the philosophies of violent men as an adult. Rather than change the regulations and alter the laws of his father, he continued the models of Shen Buhai and Shang Yang, he consulted and plotted with Zhao Gao, he isolated himself deep within the palace, and he entrusted the governance of the realm to slanderous bandits. When at the last he met his end at Wangyi Palace, though he begged to be spared to live as a commoner, how could he have expected anyone to show him mercy?
Thus were the commandaries and the states alienated from Qin, and the people deserted and rose against them in rebellion; Chen Sheng and Wu Guang were the first to sound the call against them, and Liu Bang and Xiang Yu buried them in the end. If only the First Emperor has accepted the advice of Chunyu Yue and rejected the words of Li Si, if he had carved up the provinces and fiefs, empowered his younger relatives as Princes, granted domains to the descendants of the three dynasties (Xia, Shang, and Zhou), and repaid the deeds of his subjects by rewarding them with their own domains! Then the regions of the realm would have had settled lords and the people familiar masters. Branches and leaves could support one another; the head and the tail could work in tandem. Even if some of the successors of the Son of Heaven went astray, there were no great heroes in those days like Tang of Shang or King Wu of Zhou; the leader of any wicked plan would have been snuffed out before anything could be done, and how could the rabble of people like Chen Sheng or Xiang Yu have gotten anywhere?
When Gaozu of Han (Liu Bang) drew his three-foot sword and led his flock of crows to war, it only took five years before he had completed his imperial enterprise. In all of history, no one was ever able to achieve such a thing as easily as he did. But it was only natural. To chop down a tree with a thick trunk is a difficult undertaking, while to smash a bunch of rotten wood is easily accomplished.
Gaozu reflected upon Qin's mistakes, and he granted fiefs to his younger relatives. Thus when the clan of Empress Lü Zhi monopolized power in the capital and plotted to seize control from the Liu clan, the reason why the realm did not support them or the common people lose faith in the dynasty was because the feudal lords were great and powerful and the foundation of the dynasty was firm and deep. The Marquis of Dongmou (Liu Xingju) and the Marquis of Zhuxu (Liu Zhang) upheld the dynasty from within the capital, while the Princes of Qi (Liu Xiang), Dai, Wu, and Chu acted as guardians without. If Gaozu had followed in the footsteps of Qin and forgotten the systems of the ancient kings, then the realm would have passed from their hands then and there, and the Liu clan would have been supplanted.
Yet in his granting of fiefs and domains, Gaozu went beyond what the ancient kings had done. The greatest of the Princes had territories that straddled provinces and combined regions, while the lesser ones still controlled dozens of cities. There was no distinction between the Emperor and the Princes, for they wielded power on par with that of the royal family. This was what led to the Rebellion of the Seven Princes, Wu and Chu foremost among them. Jia Yi tried to warn of the impending danger, saying, "The feudal lords have become too strong and prosperous, and if the situation continues, turmoil will arise. For those who wish to ensure peace and order in the realm, there can be no greater policy than to multiply the number of the feudal lords while diminishing the power of each one. For when the spread of power within the Seas is like the relation of the arms to the body, or of the fingers to the arms, only then will those below lack hearts of treason or rebellion and those above lack any need to attack or punish the lords." Yet Emperor Wen did not listen to his advice, and his successor Emperor Jing rashly heeded Chao Cuo's plan to directly strip territory from the feudal lords; this only brought about anger and resentment among the close relatives and fear and trembling among the distant ones, and when the Princes of Wu and Chu sounded their call of rebellion, the other five Princes joined them.
What was sown during the reign of Gaozu reached fruition during the reigns of Emperors Wen and Jing; fiefs and domains were granted more generously than had been the case in ancient times, and the attempted solution was too hasty. When the tip is too large, it breaks off; when the tail is too big, it is difficult to move. Even when the tail is proportional to the body, sometimes it is still difficult to make it move; how much more does this apply when the tail has grown beyond all reason?
Emperor Wu of Han followed the strategy of Zhufu Yan, by implementing a policy of "grace", splitting up the inheritance of the feudal lords by distributing their domains among all their sons. Thus the princely fief of Qi was split into seven parts, Zhao into six, Liang and Dai into five, and Huainan was cut into three. And in later years the feudal lords were bullied and cowed, their descendants becoming ever weaker; they only received sufficient pensions and supplies to provide for themselves, but no longer took any hand in governing their fiefs. Some had their territories reduced on charges of failing to provide sacrificial wine and gold; some had their titles abolished when they died without heirs.
By the time of Emperor Cheng, the Wang clan, imperial relatives by marriage, had taken control of court affairs. Liu Xiang remonstrated with Emperor Cheng for allowing the situation to come to such a state, saying, "I have heard that the imperial clan are the branches and leaves of the state. When the branches and leaves have fallen, then the roots and the stem no longer have any support or shade. By now, your relatives of the Liu clan are all distant and remote, while the partisans of your mother's family monopolize control and keep the royal family from power. To leave the royal clan weak and helpless is no way to preserve the altars of state or ensure the succession of the imperial line." But though Emperor Cheng was moved to grief by this plea, still he was unable to implement Liu Xiang's advice.
Thus it was that in the reigns of Emperors Ai and Ping, the Wang clan's control of the court was absolute; Wang Mang passed himself off as a wise regent like the Duke of Zhou, but in truth he was a usurper like Tian Chang. Though presenting a lofty salute, he had his eyes on the throne; in a single morning, he became master of all within the Four Seas. The princes and nobles of the imperial clan all surrendered their seals and handed over their ribbons of office to him and presented tribute to the altars of state. Yet some of them, still worried that they would not be able to save the lives of themselves and their families, went so far as to invent reports of omens approving of Wang Mang's usurpation and even sang his praises to extol his grace and virtue! Was it not pathetic?
Why did these things happen? Not because the members of the imperial clan were loyal and faithful during the reigns of Emperors Hui and Wen and traitors and opportunists during the era of Emperors Ai and Ping, but simply because their power and influence had grown so weak and useless that they no longer had any hopes of securing their positions.
It was thanks to Emperor Guangwu's peerless character and abilities that he was able to destroy the dynasty that Wang Mang had already put into place and restore the severed lineage of the Han dynasty. How else to explain this feat except that it was the work of a scion of the royal clan? Yet Emperor Guangwu failed to reflect upon the mistaken policies which had brought about Qin's downfall or to return to the old system as practiced by Zhou. Thus he trod the path of a doomed state, and he was fortunate that there was no trouble during his own reign.
But by the time of Emperors Huan and Ling, eunuchs manipulated the levers of authority. In the court, there were no servants willing to risk death for the sake of the state, and in the provinces, there were no subjects who saw the interests of the royal family as their own. Above, the sovereign stood alone, while below, his ministers grasped for power. The roots and the branches were unable to work in conjunction; the body and the hands could not help one another. Thus the realm descended into chaos like a roiling cauldron, and villains and wastrels sprang up on every side; the ancestral temples of the imperial clan were burned to ashes, and the palaces became overgrown with weeds and grasses. In all the Nine Provinces (the whole realm) there was not a single place of peace or safety. Was it not lamentable?
The Grand Progenitor of our Wei dynasty, Emperor Wu (Cao Cao), was a man of wise and sage character and possessed divine martial prowess and cunning. He lamented the fact that the sovereign's laws had sunk to such a pitiful state, and he pitied the dire plight of the Han royal family. Rising like a dragon from Qiao and Pei and soaring like a phoenix from Yanzhou and Yuzhou, he purged and swept away the villains and evildoers of the land, and he cut out and annihilated the behemoths and leviathans of the realm. He welcomed the Emperor's arrival from the western capital (Chang'an) and established a new capital at Yingyi (Xu). His virtue impressed Heaven and Earth, and his righteousness touched the people and the spirits. Thus the Han royal family recognized the will of Heaven and abdicated their position to the Wei dynasty.
It has now been twenty-four years since the founding of Wei. Have we not had ample time to consider the factors which led to the rise and fall of the five dynasties before ours? Yet we do not follow the policies which would ensure our longevity. We have seen the carts in front of ours topple and fall, yet we do nothing to change our course. The younger relatives of the imperial clan hold empty titles and only nominally possess their lands, and in no sense do they preside over their people; the imperial relatives only scurry about the streets and lanes, and they are given no voice in how to govern the state. Their authority is no greater than the commoners, and their influence counts for no more than the average person. Within, the state has no deep roots to fortify it against being pulled up; without, it has no foundation of relatives and friends who could help defend it. This is no policy to preserve the altars of state for ten thousand generations.
Furthermore, the Governors of provinces and the Administrators of commandaries in our times have become the modern equivalents of the Border Lords and the feudal nobles of antiquity. They hold sway over territories of a thousand li, and they wield military as well as civil authority. Some of them control regions comparable in size to princely fiefs, and in some instances brothers from the same family all hold such offices simultaneously. At the same time, not a single one of the imperial kinfolk or the younger relatives of the crown hold any position that might check the power of these local leaders or band together to guard against them. This is no way to strengthen the trunk and weaken the branches, or provide against any emergency.
Of the worthy servants of the dynasty from other families, some have reputations so great that they are household names in the capital, and some are commanders of powerful armies. Meanwhile, even those members of the imperial clan who possess civil talents are limited to positions no greater than supervisors of small counties, while even those with martial abilities lead bands of no greater than a hundred soldiers. These are honest and lofty men, and yet their ambitions can rise no higher than to bear a yoke; they are talented and capable fellows, yet they are shamed by being lumped in with those who are not their peers. This is no way to encourage and promote the worthy and able, or praise and distinguish members of the imperial clan with ceremony.
When the spring runs dry, it is because the groundwater has stopped flowing; when the trunk is rotten, it is because the leaves have withered. When the branches are abundant, they shelter the stem; when the twigs fall away, the trunk is left exposed. Thus it is said, "The centipede has its hundred feet; even in death, it does not collapse, for its numerous legs still keep it up." It is a little saying, but it illustrates a great principle.
Furthermore, the foundation of a stout wall cannot be laid all at once, nor can power and legitimacy be established in a single morning. In both cases, these things can be achieved only gradually and secured only over time. It is like a plant or a tree, which requires a great deal of time to grow before the roots extend deep and the trunk becomes strong, and greater still for its branches and leaves to multiply and flourish. Can someone who casts a seed among stones and thickets or beneath the palace gates expect the plant to grow fruitful and tall? Even if they surround it with blackish and rich soil and warm it by the springtime sun, they will not even be able to save it from withering. And what are the imperial relatives but trees sown by the sovereign, and what are the people but the soil which receives them? Unless the relatives be planted among them for a long time, then there will be obstinate below and disdain above. Even in peaceful times, there would still be the prospect of alienation or rebellion; how much moreso when some emergency arises?
The sage ruler does not relax during times of peace, but is always thinking of future dangers. Though their dynasty seems secure, still they make preparations to guard against threats to its destruction. Only then may they have no fear of being uprooted, though the storms and gales may blow; only then may they be assured the state will not collapse, though the realm be full of turmoil.
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