#but I think I’m gonna hold out for the big September patch before jumping back in

[when-wulf]

Asena text post no one asked for

[x]

[thiswasinevitableid]

Apple, Delight (Sternclay)

Prompt for the fourth was: Apple Orchard

Barclay has cinnamon sugar in his pores, he’s certain of it. The first of October means the crowds arrive in earnest to Amnesty Farm which, from late September to mid-November, becomes a center for fall fun. They don’t serve tons of food, but Barclay is in charge of what they do offer, his pride and joy being their apple cider doughnuts, which he’s made by dozen since eight that morning.

He’s ready to settle in for the night when he discovers he has less firewood than he thought. Ah well, Sass needs to go out anyway, a trip to the wood pile won’t kill him. 

Except, as he’s gathering an armful of chopped logs, Sass goes tearing off towards the orchards, dark fur disappearing into the shadows under the trees.

Barclay sighs, sets the wood down and starts off after him. It’s not like he can get too lost, since the farm is fenced in on all sides, but it’s supposed to rain tonight and he’d hate for him to be out in it. Plus, if he gets into the garden display again, Dani will be pissed. 

He passes the petting zoo, then the goat and sheep pens, smiling when soft clucks come from the chicken coop. They’re on a country road, so at night there’s no traffic to drown out the sounds of the farm and the nearby woods. Maybe some people find it eerie, but hes’ grateful for the relative quiet after a day of being in the kitchen. 

Skirting the end of the U-Pick Pumpkin Patch brings him to the apple orchards. There are also pear and cherry trees, but the apples make up the bulk of what they grow, and visitors are welcome to pick from designated sections. 

Now if only he could spot a wagging tail or hear a jingling collar in the midst of them. 

“Sass!” He whistles, but no shape comes bounding towards him. Usually when the dog fails to come when called, it’s because he’s chasing some poor squirrel or rabbit into the underbrush.

Which is why, when he hears a  distinctly human cry of alarm, Barclay jumps out of his skin before taking off towards the subsequent barks. 

He finds Sass directing his deep woofs at a man about Barclay’s age, with dark hair that was slicked back at some point but is now mussed, and a sweater and jeans that are far too clean for him to be a farmhand. When he gets closer, he realizes he recognizes the guy; he’d been in with his family earlier that day, and Barclay had just enough time to think he was hotter than the fryer before a new wave of visitors came to the counter. Given that he was there with a woman and  young girl, he’s gonna assume the guy is off-limits for flirting. 

“Sass, c’mon boy, heel.” 

The dog turns, lopes over to Barclay as he steps to the man and offers a hand. 

“Sorry, he’s a surprisingly good guard dog for something that gets distracted by butterflies.”

The man takes his hand, stands and brushes leaves from his sweater, “and he's terrifying to have bolting towards you out of the darkness.”

Barclay raises an eyebrow, “that's kind of the point of a guard dog. Y’know, keeping intruders out?”

“I’m not an intruder, I am a visitor who misplaced something.”

“We’ve been closed for two hours.”

“I’m aware. But the front gate was locked and I couldn't get anyone’s attention.”

“Because the staff who live here live out towards the back. That's why we put that phone number on the gate. '' He turns them back towards the cottage, Sass trotting happily in front of them. 

“Which would have worked perfectly. If the thing I was missing wasn't my phone.” The man holds up a smartphone.

“I mean, guess it’s good you found it, but you coulda used someone else's and let us know to look for i in the lost and found. Folds are good about bringing dropped stuff back to the main farm.”

“I considered that option but I might not have a job come morning if I did it that way.”

“Jesus, where do you work?”

“The FBI.”

“Ah.”

“Yes, pretty much.”

“That how come you were able to scale the fence so easily?”

The man nods.

“What kind of work do you do in the FBI?” He may as well make the most of having a cute guy walking with him. A little practice flirting can’t hurt. God knows he needs it. 

“I work for the, um, the UP.”

“....Holy shit, I didn’t know that was real, I thought they made it up for the X-Files.”

“No, though it involves far more dead ends than that show portrays. Oddly, Twin Peaks is more accurate to what I do.”

“Man, that’s fucking cool agh, shit” rain patters on the leaves, “please tell me you moved your car away from the gate?”

“Only a little.”

“Shit. Okay, you probably figured it out from wandering around, but we are literally on the other end of the property right now, and the golf cart is in the shop.”

“It’s, um, it’s alright, if you get me to the main route through the farm, I can walk back on my own and climb the fence. Again.” His tone suggests he’s already working through the logistics in his head. 

“Uh, if you aren't in too big a hurry, at least let me swing by my place and get you a raincoat?”

“Oh. Um, that’d be great. Thank you.”

They veer right and soon the cottage comes into view. He grabs some dry firewood while Sass waits on the step and the man rubs his hands together. 

Once they’re inside, the man turns to him and Barclay has to work to keep his focus on his words rather than the blue eyes and handsome face.

“May I use your restroom? I got a bit muddy.” He holds up his hands. 

“Just down the hall.” 

The man smiles, and Barclay starts building a fire as he walks away. There’s a ding, and he goes to check in case Mama needs something. But it's not his phone, it’s the other man's, glowing where he set it on the table. 

Hayes: I expect better than technical mishaps from you, agent,

Shit, he wasn’t kidding about work. And his other notification is showing thirty unread emails.

The water shuts off in the bathroom and he hurries back to the fire, is just getting it caught when there’s a groan behind him. Turning, he sees his guest running a hand through his black hair, staring defeatedly down at his phone. 

“I’m moving to the bottom of the sea.”

Barclay chuckles and the man looks a little embarrassed at being heard.

“If you want something closer to home, we're hiring seasonal help.”

“I’m sure it’d do wonders for my physique, if you’re anything to go by, but I doubt I’m cut out for it. I’m white-collar through and through, unfortunately. Sorry” he looks at the hardwood floor, “probably shouldn’t whine about my job, since you’re helping me stay dry instead after I committed at least two misdemeanors on your property.”

“It’s Mama’s, I just work here. And it’s okay. Though, uh, kinda surprised you wanna talk to some random dude on a farm about it instead of, like, your wife.”

“Wife?”

“The woman who was with you today? You came into the restaurant at one point.”

“Oh! No, that’s my sister, I came with her and my niece. Her opinion on my work troubles is to get a boyfriend so I’ll have someone to complain to.”

Barclay closes the fire grate slightly harder than he means to at that last sentence.

“Did, uh, did you all have a good time?”

“Very. Ellie, my niece, adored all the animals, and Lily comes here every year to pick out pumpkins for decorating the house. I, um, my favorite part was the food. Those doughnuts were amazing, as were the pumpkin scones.”

Barclay blushes; a cute guy complimenting his cooking tends to make him all fluttery.

“You thought those were good, then I got something you need to try. Uh, I mean, if you want to stay a little, if not I can get the coat and we can go.”

The man looks at his phone, then back to Barclay, “what the hell, things are under control until the morning. I’d love to stay. Um, may I dry my sweater by the fire? It got pretty wet just in the few minutes we were out.”

“Sure thing uh, Mr-”

“Joseph is fine.”

Barclay smiles, heading for the kitchen, but not before watching Joseph's shirt catch on his sweater and ride up, revealing honest-to-god cut muscle. Instead of asking if he can lick apple butter off his abs, he grabs the jar of said butter, the loaf of bread, and starts a kettle for tea. 

Soon he’s setting a plate and a cup of cranberry-apple tea un front of Joseph, who inhales appreciatively.

“Let me guess; you made all of this?”

“Yep, the apple butter is an old family recipe.”

They eat in silence for a few moments until Sass, roused from his spot by the fire by the smell of food, pads over to sit in front of Joseph and stare. When that fails to produce treats, he turns his puppy-dog eyes on Barclay. The cook makes him sit and shake before tossing him a small piece of bread.

“What kind of dog is he?”

“Bernese Mountain Dog and Rottweiler, we think.”

“Is his name short for something?”

Barclay smiles, “Sasquatch. He had huge feet as a puppy.”

“We have similar dog-naming habits.” Joseph pulls out his phone, “this is Nessie.” When he turns it, Barclay almost snorts tea out his nose, unprepared for the sight of a greyhound in a sweater decorated with tiny Loch Ness Monsters. 

“Believe it or not, she adores that sweater. Last time I took it off to be washed, she whined for an hour.”

“Awww” It’s an adorable image, but not quite as adorable as the thought of Joseph on laundry day, in pajama pants and one of Barclay’s shirts, hair still relaxed from a shower. 

“She’s a good girl.” He tucks his phone away, “I feel terrible whenever I have to travel for work; my sister can’t take her so I have to board her somewhere, and it’s just infrequent enough that she forgets the staff and is terrified of them anew each time.”

“We could always get her used to me and board her here, assuming she and Sass get along.” The offer is sixty percent out of the goodness of his heart and forty percent wanting to see Joseph smile. 

“You’d really do that?”

“The farm is secure, she’d have a playmate, and there’d be lots of people here looking after her. She’d sleep in the cottage, of course.”

Joseph gives him an inquisitive look, then glances down at Sass, who’s wagging his tail so hard he’s sweeping the floor.

“Sure, what the hell. Assuming they get along, the next time I have to go, she can stay here.”

They chat for awhile longer about books, cooking, and various farm mishaps, before Barclay reluctantly fetches the spare raincoat so they can get Joseph back to his car. 

“Doesn’t quite bring out your eyes the way that sweater does.” He murmurs, then tries to correct for the come-on with, “because it’s such a, uh, a nice sweater?”

Joseph stays close to him as he replies “I’d offer to trade, but I’m not sure any of my clothes could survive that broad chest.” He ghosts his fingers across Barclays shirt, “Though it could be fun to see them try.”

The walk to the gate isn’t nearly long enough, and he blushes when Joseph once again thanks him profusely for his help and his company. The walk back, however, feels like an eternity, one that gives him time to doubt the other man had any interest in him at all. 

But all that evaporates when he gets home. Because sitting on the table is a slip of paper with a phone number and a short message. 

For arranging dog playdates. And dinner next Friday if you’re interested.

-Joseph

And sitting just below the message is a small, precisely drawn heart.

[femmeharringrove]

#68 on the prompt list!

068: "We’ve been celebrating our wedding anniversary on the wrong day for the past nine years."

this took me a minute i'm so sorry oof!!

If there's anything Billy's learned, it's that his cooking skill is nothing compared to the culinary prowess of his husband. Stefano Alexander Lorenzo Harrington (a mouthful, Billy knows, he was terrified of messing it up during their vows) is king of the kitchen, and Billy enjoys everything he cooks, but sometimes Steve's menu can be used to give insight to what he's feeling.

It's one of those funny little quirks that the blonde man fell for all those years ago. After Starcourt, after he nearly died, his father cut ties with him completely and Max all but literally dragged him over to Steve's place. Steve didn't like him back then, not that Billy ever gave him a reason to like him, but the moment Max explained everything his doe eyes softened and he offered Billy a room in his house on the spot. Billy spent countless nights after that feasting on baked ziti and lasagna - "with my own pasta, none of that pre-made shit," Steve pronounced proudly as he served Billy the biggest slice of pasta he'd ever seen in his life to that point; he's outdone himself several times in the years since - and at one point realized he couldn't live a day without Steve's cooking.

He couldn't live without that blinding smile either, or without the sight of Steve chasing the Party around like a distressed young mother, or without the feeling of being wrapped up in those slender arms, face tucked into the crook of Steve's neck as the taller boy promised to keep him safe from the monsters of this and any other world. Steve told his parents Billy was just staying at the house until he found his feet, but they ended up living like that for four years before an argument between the Harrington men got ugly enough to make Steve want to leave. And so they did, after helping Steve's hoard of kids move to their respective colleges. They found themselves a little apartment in Malibu and Billy went to college that same year.

It was hard, for a while. Steve was still unsure of what he wanted to do in life and Billy struggled to find a balance between classes, his job at the garage down the street, and time with Steve. They fought, they cried, and Steve always ended up smoothing things over with Billy's favorite soups, no matter how hot it was outside, and slowly things got better.

Billy proposed to his boyfriend two years after that, and a year after that they got married, unofficially, with Hopper officiating and the Party giving Steve away. They were married on the beach on September 6th, Steve cried all through the ceremony and they spent much of that night in absolute bliss, wrapped up in each other's arms. Billy swore that the date would be one he would never forget, how could he forget? Nobody forgot their wedding date.

They've been married nine years now. He's got his engineering degree and owns the garage down the street now. Steve's artistic streak led to him opening a studio and offering art classes on top of selling his own work. They moved out of the apartment after Steve curled up to Billy's chest one night and begged for a baby. They have three of those now, bustling six-year-old Antonia, quiet three-year-old Max, and two-month-old Angelo. All three are with Auntie Max tonight, who's also moved out to the coast with Lucas and El in tow, because tonight is a special night. It's September 6th, and he and Steve are supposed to be celebrating.

Except Steve's making tiramisu and cheesecake. He's making Alfredo with shrimp and chicken and spinach, which Billy loves but knows that his husband hates. In fact, this is Billy's favorite meal, which Steve only pulls out when he's got something important to say or when Billy's feeling down. And Billy's not feeling down.

It takes some work to steal the great Stefano's attention in the kitchen, but Billy's got almost two decades worth of experience here. He hums before he touches the man - years of touch starvation and a few too many bad experiences have left the man rather skittish, especially with unexpected touches, so Billy's careful to give him warning. He presses right up against Steve's back and wraps his arms around him, fingers of his left hand slipping up under his shirt to stroke over Steve's hip while the fingers of his right hand settle just under the waistband of the brunette's sweatpants, trailing over a sensitive patch of skin. From there it's all about the kisses - little ones to the nape of Steve's neck, lazy ones on the side of his throat, nips and playful bites to the shoulder. He nuzzles at Steve's cheek a few times in between that mix and Steve lasts all of two minutes before he's melting back against Billy and gazing back at him, eyes painfully warm and full with that adoring look he always gives Billy. For a moment, the blonde can't breathe, stunned for the billionth time by Steve's beauty. He presses a soft kiss to his plump lips, slow and full of love, before nosing along his jaw.

"What are you thinking about?" he questions. Steve hums, turns from his current task of slicing his pasta dough to wrap his arms around Billy.

"You," he hums, and Billy has no doubt to the validity of that answer, but he presses anyway.

"What else?"

"What are you talking about?" Steve's eyebrow arches and Billy takes that exact moment to realize that his husband's beginning to grey, his coffee brown waves of hair showing a little speckle of silver. At thirty-five, Steve isn't really old at all, but he's got other little signs of age. He's not a lanky teenage boy anymore. But he's as stunning as ever, and Billy's heart melts as they stare at each other.

"Pretty boy, you told me you think spinach in alfredo is a sin, but you're adding it in and you only do shit like that when you've got something to share with the class. So share." His eyebrow arch as Billy opened his mouth to argue, and he hides a smile as Steve backs down.

"Fine. Sit down, Papa Blue." It's Billy's favorite nickname, received after their son Max stole the nickn baby blue. Max is biologically his, thanks to a donation from Robin. She did the same with Angelo, though their latest baby is Steve's, all big eyes and fluffy hair. Billy sits at his husband's request, and Steve sits across from him looking a little worried. "So, uh, you know how today is our anniversary?"

"Yeah, what about it?" Billy asks. Steve chews on his lip.

"Well, I called Hop this morning because he and Joyce wanna come meet little Jellybean," he begins.

"Angelo is gonna hate that nickname once he gets older," Billy warns. Steve shakes his head in amusement.

"No way, he'll love it. Or he'll at least have to tolerate it, because I'm not letting it go anytime soon. But that's besides the point. Hop and I were talking and he asked me what we did for our anniversary yesterday."

"Yesterday? Our anniversary is today, doesn't he remember?" Billy frowns as Steve runs his fingers through his hair.

"That's exactly what I said," he huffs. "But he was adamant we got married on the fifth, and so I went and checked."

"And?" Billy presses, terrified that he already knows the result. His husband bites his lip.

"And he's right. We misread the number on the date." Steve gives him a sheepish, frustrated look. "We’ve been celebrating our wedding anniversary on the wrong day for the past nine years."

"You can't be serious," Billy deadpans. Steve blinks at him.

Oh god.

It takes Billy seven seconds before he's snorting with laughter. Then he's flat-out snickering, and it doesn't take Steve long to follow. They laugh in the kitchen together until Billy's sides hurt and Steve starts to struggle for breath between his giggles.

"We've been doing it on the wrong day, what a bunch of idiots we are," Billy chuckles. Steve wipes tears of laughter away.

"Yeah, yeah," he chuckles, before his face morphs into something more apprehensive. "I'm sorry I got it wrong." Billy waves it off with one hand, a soft look settling on his face.

"Don't be. I've been making the same mistake. And I wrote the date down, I should have made my handwriting more legible." Billy's hand reaches over the table for Steve's. "Baby, I don't care that we've got the wrong date. All I care about is celebrating what we've got together, okay? I just want to celebrate the fact that I found someone who loves me more than I could ever deserve, someone who's stuck by my side through good and bad. I don't care what day we do that." He watches as Steve's anxious look melts into something significantly softer.

"Billy Hargrove, you deserve all the love this world has to offer and then some," he corrects gently. Billy's eyes crinkle softly around the edges as he smiles.

"And you've got more love in that mop on your head then the rest of the world could ever have." He stands and leans over to hold the other man's face in his hands, planting three quick kisses to his forehead. "Trust me, honey pie, you give me more love than I deserve. You give the whole world more love than it deserves." Steve's responding smile is bright and adoring, and Billy's heart melts even more.

"I love you, Billabong," he murmurs, stealing his own kiss from Billy's lips.

"And I love you, princess." They stay like that for a time, silent and content, before Steve speaks again.

"We're gonna get it right next year, right?" Billy laughs, nose wrinkling in his amusement.

"Of course. And every year after that. We can make it a two-day event, spend the first day bein' all romantic. I'm keepin' you in bed on day two, though." His smile turns into a familiar smirk. "Make you remember why you love having me around." He revels in the way his husband blushes violently, and Steve swats him away as he jumps up.

"You're a menace, Billy Hargrove. Leave me alone so I can finish cooking." He gets one last kiss before Billy backs out of the kitchen, and if he's got the same dopey grin on his face as he had in his twenties when looking at Steve Harrington, then it's neither here nor there.

[ducktracy]

174. get rich quick porky (1937)

release date: august 28th, 1937

series: looney tunes

director: bob clampett

starring: mel blanc (porky), cal howard (gabby), earle hodgins (honest john)

another cartoon that entails a lengthy preface! 

while this is bob clampett’s second piece as a director, it’s the first cartoon where he has full control of the helm. his previous entry, porky’s badtime story, was started by ub iwerks, who as preceded the unit. but, technically, clampett was co-directing with chuck jones.

here’s where the famous Clampett-Jones rivalry settles in. bob clampett and chuck jones did not get along. even friz freleng mentioned that they had been fighting like kids since they WERE kids, which is very true. clampett and jones would have both been 24 at the time of the cartoon’s release, jones turning 25 in september. chuck jones thought that he was co-directing the shorts with clampett, doing character layouts (which WAS a very hefty job and considered a director’s job) while clampett did the writing and timing of the shorts. however, the credits only credit clampett and not jones, so jones assumed that clampett had deliberately gotten rid of jones’ credit (to which clampett didn’t have any control over). jones would therefore hold this grudge against clampett all the way to the grave--they were bitter rivals, and chuck especially was very outspoken about his disdain and contempt towards clampett. it’s unfortunate how such a big misunderstanding can be inflated into such a bitter rivalry, and even more unfortunate to see two great talents go against each other, but that explains that. we’re here to analyze their great cartoons, not gossip about them! (...well, not ALL the time, anyway.)

a second extra little treat is that this cartoon has an animator’s draft, courtesy of devon baxter, so that we can see who animated every single scene! devon also has a breakdown video posted so you can see the credits in conjunction with the assigned animation. thanks a bunch, devon!

gabby goat sings his swan song in this fun, light-hearted clampett entry tentatively titled the oily bird gets porky: porky and gabby are easily swindled by honest john, a snake oil (emphasis on the oil portion!) salesman who scams the boys into thinking they’ve struck it rich digging for oil.

“when my dreamboat comes home” fittingly scores the title card as the cartoon opens. in some clever signage play, the camera trucks back to reveal the title card posted on a sign--the screen fades out, fading back in to reveal a new sign (now scored with the appropriate “with plenty of money and you”) advertising “oh! ~~~ just oodles of oil!”, with the oil typography actually dripping, courtesy of norm mccabe.

john carey provides the animation of the facetiously named honest john, the antagonistic oil huckster of the film. a fun bit of clampett continuity: from 1959-1962, clampett would make a cartoon adaptation of his hit puppet series time for beany. one of the characters, the show’s antagonist, was actually named dishonest john! honest john chuffs on a cigarette (his wealth and snootiness indicated by the cigarette holder he sports) as a truck driver asks where to deposit his “erl”. john, voiced by earle hodgins, redirects the trucker to park around the fence. it is then that john attaches a hose from the oil tank attached to the truck to a sprinkler system, and presto! sweet, bubbling “erl” spouts up from hidden sprinklers within a patch of land. carey’s animation is very smooth and dimensional, a telltale trait of his work.

satisfied, john now opts to search for his next pair of suckers (”ahem. i should say prospects. someone with a little money to invest in...”) lo and behold, his pair of suckers are right across the street, marching up to the bank. 

said suckers, are, of course, porky and gabby, now cast as children. for porky especially, his age was inconsistent in the ‘30′s and early ‘40′s cartoons--sometimes he was a child, sometimes he was an adult. more often than not, he was a young adult, and would obviously remain that way through the vast majority of his filmography, but there are a few exceptions, such as here. after all, he did debut as a school child. bobe cannon animates the closeup of the duo at the bank, porky toting a bag of money. gabby, voiced here by storyman cal howard as opposed to mel blanc, urges porky not to store away his money (”let’s buy us a car, or a yacht, or a trip to europe, or a chocolate soda or somethin’!), but porky refuses. “uh-uh, i’m eh-geh-geh-geh-gonna sock my eh-meh-mo-mo--dough in here and get eh-teh-teh-two percent!” bobe’s animation of porky is easy to spot in the clampett toons, especially around 1938-1939, where he would typically draw porky with buck teeth.

suddenly, honest john swoops in himself to stop the boys from going any further. he introduces himself as john gusher, doing some gushing of his own as he describes how fortune is going to smile down upon them. jerry hathcock’s timing is excellent as he shows the kid his card, zipping it out of his pocket and back in again at the blink of an eye. without giving the boys any time to think for themselves, john pushes the kids to the oil site, ranting and raving about the wondrous business opportunity before them. to demonstrate, john jabs his cane into the soil, where a mini oil gusher spurts up on command--”presto!”

more succinct comedic timing as john, finally winding down his spiel, concludes “i won’t take any more of your valuable time. a little parting word, let me say...” after a pause, he jumps right back in with a breathless delivery of “this land is so saturated with oil that you can literally wring it out with your fingers!” he does, of course, just that, much to the delight of the kids. 

john carey takes over and does a rather impressive little scene of porky and gabby contemplating signing the deed. gabby urges porky on, telling him that they won’t get another chance like this (prompting a rather humorous delivery of “uh... ‘til death do us part” from earle hodgins as john.) carey’s animation is extremely smooth, brimming with subtle character action. porky and gabby’s differences shine, but also unite: gabby is much more outspoken about his eagerness to sign the deed, nudging porky and literally pushing him to sign the deed. porky, on the other hand, is more cautious and timid, having to mull it over by thinking and tapping his chin with the pen. but, of course, porky shares gabby’s excitement--it doesn’t take much for him to change his mind. he signs the deed, gabby excitedly looming over his shoulder. even the animation of john tapping and signaling towards the deed is well crafted. john carey’s animation is very appealing--once chuck jones would leave the clampett unit, carey would take over as his layout man, all the way until 1941 when he moved to norm mccabe’s unit. 

the boys are now excused, free to dig for oil. the shift from minor to major key in the underscore of “with plenty of money and you” reflects their excitement as they rush to get the equipment. bobe cannon animates gabby drilling into the soil--he strikes something, and sure enough, he hauls up an entire canister of oil. he’s delighted, rather than outraged or confused at being scammed, gleefully remarking “porky, look! oil!”

thus sparks the B plot of the cartoon. this isn’t as segmented as other clampett cartoons with A and B plots as, say, porky’s party, but it’s a start--clampett would sort of introduce the concept of having A and B plots in his cartoons, which wasn’t quite something that existed before in pre-existing warner bros. cartoons (off the top of my head, anyway.) a stray dog stumbles upon the oil site, curiously approaching the dirt pile left by porky as he digs for sweet, sweet “erl”. much to the dog’s delight, porky digs up a bone, which the dog takes away and buries for himself. the scene (animated by bill hammer) definitely takes inspiration after the rising popularity in pluto cartoons over at disney, demonstrating that WB wasn’t entirely free from the disney stranglehold just yet.

 as the dog digs, the bone is suddenly propelled into the air by a mini-gusher. dog carefully covers the gusher by lowering the bone down, but gets smacked in the face in the process as the gusher propels upwards once more. bill hammer was an animator over at the iwerks unit, and a bit of that iwerks flavor is still present in the dizzy lines hammer animates after the dog gets struck in the head with the bone. resigned, the pooch covers the hole back up, only to get squirted in the eye by another gusher. and, to top it all off, we have more Naughty Clampett Humor as the gusher from before brushes against the dog’s nether regions, prompting him to giggle delightedly. this isn’t the first nor last gag of its kind in a warner bros cartoon--especially a clampett cartoon! frantically, the dog attempts to plug up all of the rapidly appearing gushers beneath him, a double-exposure technique used to convey the urgency of his plight. gushers prevail as the pup is launched into the air, propelled by a stream of oil beneath each paw. in all, the scene drags along and definitely plays into that “curious puppy” humor filled with polite chuckles, but some of hammer’s poses and facial expressions make for a treat.

back to the boys in the next sequence, handled by bobe cannon. gabby, perched on a jackhammer, asks porky how to operate it, but he immediately begins drilling uncontrollably before he can finish his sentence. cal howard’s vocals as gabby are amusing, especially his ad-libbed cries for help--his gabby is less scratchy and high pitched than mel’s gabby, and instead deeper voiced and more goat-like in inflection, sounding like he’s bleating at certain points. porky rushes to speak into the hole that gabby dug himself into, anxiously asking “uh-guh-eh-guh-eh-gabby! uh-weh-eh-where are ya?” gabby answers his query by digging out of an adjacent hole, breaking cartoon physics by drilling and floating upside down in the air. he manages to land safely, the drill stopping just enough for him to chew porky out for not helping him. and, of course, the drill starts up again, sending gabby within the earth’s soil once more. porky asks if he’s alright, prompting a bleat-y “what do you think!?” from an offscreen gabby. it should be noted that the underscore here is, of course, “the merry go round broke down”, a rather fitting and amusing choice. interestingly enough, clampett’s next entry, roval’s rival, would be the first cartoon to debut that song as the looney tunes theme song, which would be used all the way up until the last short in 1969.

chuck jones hones in on one of his three specialties: dogs (the others being drunks and close-ups--sometimes all three at once!) he animates the malcontent pooch fiddling with his bone. a bump in the ground, and a gopher pops up, doing a little twirl in the process, bugs bunny style, like a magic trick. clampett always fostered a love of magic tricks, and this fascination pokes through in this scene. the gopher signals for the dog’s attention before ducking inside the hole, much to the dog’s delight--a hole to bury his bone into! as he tosses the bone inside, he’s treated with a rude awakening as the bone is hurled right back up out of the hole. jones’ timing varies wonderfully--the dog is slow to put his bone back in the hole, but once he does he jumps to cover it up quickly, resulting in some intriguing psuedo-smears. after all, it would be his own cartoon, the dover boys at pimento university, that really brought the magic of smears to life. the animation of the dog twitching his eye on one’s is another great touch.

the gopher returns to bonk the dog on the head with the bone, which segues into a series of magic tricks (scored fittingly with “she was an acrobat’s daughter”.) the gopher shrinks the bone into his hand, reducing it to nothingness, much to the befuddlement of the pooch. tried and true, the gopher brings the bone out from behind the dog’s ear, pointing at it excitedly as the pup can only stare in bewilderment. gopher buries the bone, signaling for the dog to dig it back up. delighted, fido digs for his beloved bone, and is greeted with a spurt of oil right in the face. to top it off, the gopher brings the bone out from the recesses of the dog’s mouth, ending the show by retreating back in his hole. heartbroken, the pup begins to cry mournfully, pounding his fists against the ground and kicking his legs. in all, the scene is a very nice one. not very snappy, but chuck’s timing is full of momentum and personality, and his drawings are very appearing. there are some angles of the dog’s head that just SCREAM chuck jones--they look like something straight out of one of his cartoons. some aspects of these magic tricks, such as the gopher shrinking the bone to nothingness, would be used in chuck’s own cartoon, prest-o change-o, a mere two years later in 1939. the gopher itself IS very bugs bunny-esque in execution.

transition back to our piggy protagonist, hacking away at the ground with a pick-axe. he hits a sweet spot, excitedly reaching for his bucket as oil spurts out of the ground. just as he’s able to collect a few drops, we cut to our favorite huckster john, who snickers as he turns the hose valve off, thus eliminating the geyser. porky digs again, this time striking one of the sprinkler systems connected to the hose. we get a closeup, where porky is squirted straight in the eye by the hose.

honest john himself opts to scope things out. “what’s the matter, sonny boy? you aren’t discouraged, are you?” porky displays his childlike innocence (a property that would carry on to his adult years as well, but is especially strong here since he is a kid in this picture) as he wipes away his tears. “you’re je-je-je-just a crook, and i want my muh-me-muh-me-muh-me-money back!” john, ever the haggler, proposes that porky return the deed in return for a $1 bill. 

norm mccabe takes over from john hathcock, whose animation is muddied by noticeably poor inking. pan to the ground, where we see a black slick hiding under the soil, the words “OIL!” bubbling up to make its appearance obvious, with gabby drilling dangerously close to it. pan back up to more norm mccabe animation, a switch--clampett LOVED to switch his animators around. so much so that identifying his later cartoons can be infuriatingly difficult because he would switch his animators in the middle of a scene out of seemingly nowhere. he wasn’t the only director to do this, but he certainly did it often. nevertheless, we pan back to porky and john. porky trepidatiously prepares to hand john the deed, who greets it with outstretched hands. just as gloves prepare to make contact with paper, gabby strikes the “SAME OIL!”, the typography playfully melting into a true oil geyser as goat, weasel, and pig are all catapulted into the air by a real, genuine gusher, scored by (what else?) “we’re in the money”. the layout of the oil geyser raining down upon the camera is at a nice up-angle, very tashlin-esque and intricate, if only for a second or two.

gabby still drills aimlessly around on the geyser as porky, holding onto the deed with john, remarks “a guh-gusher! i’m r-ri--i’m w-we-weal--i’m a buh-be-buh-be-buh-billionaire!” suddenly, porky realizes he’s still holding onto the deed with john, and thus sparking a tug of war between the two as he stutters threats (”i’ll tell my be-be-big brother on you!”) to the huckster. 

thankfully, gabby, who has been drilling aimlessly for the past few minutes, saves the day by accidentally drilling into the back of john’s pants. earle hodgins’ screams are hilarious (and sound almost genuine), as is bill hammer’s animation of the weasel being held hostage by the drill running around in the back of his pants. the deed is now in porky’s clutches, who grabs gabby and pulls the both of them to the ground. hammer’s drawings of porky especially in this last shot of them preparing to fall down are very, VERY appealing and cute.

both kids on the ground, porky holds up the white, elongated object in his hand, gleefully declaring he got the deed... or so he thinks. jerry hathcock does porky’s closeup as he realizes the precious deed he holds in his hand is, in fact, a bone.

dejected, the kids are left to mope, until a little bump in the ground comes to solve all of their problems. chuck jones animates the final scene of the Magic Gopher coming in to save the day: porky hands him the bone, and, much to his head-shaking surprise, is met with the deed right in the gopher’s hands after just a flick of the wrists. porky reaches out for the deed, prompting the gopher to shake his finger--always a catch. 

“partners? 50-50, even steven?” porky nods. with the deal made, the gopher helpfully rips the deed in half, giving porky the bottom half. iris out on the gopher winking, holding up the top half of the deed (emblazoned as such) in victory.

while this isn’t the most rousing clampett entry of them all, it’s certainly one that i revisit quite often and am rather fond of. it has plenty of fun and intriguing animation--john carey’s scene of the boys signing the deed is just fantastic. his animation is very grounded and smooth. while the psuedo-pluto scenes aren’t the most exciting pieces of work around, the chuck jones sequence with the gopher and dog are especially impressive, highlighting just how strong jones’ draftmanship was. clampett’s cartoons became much more wild and loose after jones left the unit (just look at porky in wackyland), and chuck certainly seemed to ground clampett, but at the same time, the lack of jones’ draftsmanship was rather apparent upon his exit. he’s a very strong force, and that sequence with the dog is no exception. earle hodgins does a great job as honest john, as well as voicing salesmen in general--he was also the salesman in tex avery’s porky the rainmaker a year earlier. i love mel blanc to death and have nothing but praises to shower him in, but it is always fun to have other people like earle hodgins to come up and voice characters alongside him. cal howard does a fine job as gabby, too.

speaking of gabby, as i mentioned earlier, this is his final cartoon. i have this odd fascination with gabby. these clampett cartoons i’m going to be reviewing are some of the first LT cartoons i watched as an adult, and therefore have a fonder place in my heart than others. so, watching the iwerks cartoons that clampett was heavily involved in, gabby was introduced to me VERY early on and i’ve been fascinated with him since. out of his three entries, he became more and more watered down: his fury and anger is practically nonexistent here in comparison to how bitter he was in porky and gabby. while i find him interesting, i don’t shed too many tears over his absence--daffy will always be porky’s best sidekick, and i’m not saying that because i’m biased! nevertheless, gabby is an interesting enigma, serving as WB’s failed attempt at a donald duck for porky’s mickey (who is much richer in personality than mickey himself, as we’ll explore, much to my unbridled excitement!) gabby WAS slated to return in porky’s party, alongside petunia, but was instead scrapped for a penguin character instead. thus, gabby would take a near 80 year absence, being revived in 2018 in wabbit/new looney tunes, voiced by bob bergen. 

so, overall, i recommend this cartoon! i view it more fondly than it probably needs to be viewed, but it’s a fun, early entry that makes for a good, leisurely watch. 

link!

[purplesurveys]

941

ACH

Do you listen to anything by Bach? I’ve probably encountered some of his material since I like looking for classical musical playlists to listen to on Spotify, but I’m nowhere near being a devoted fan or anything like that.

ASH

Do you like ash trees? I’m not attached to any kind of tree, really – but I know I have nothing against this kind, haha.

Do you have the ashes of a family member or a pet? No. The only ashes I’ve gotten to encounter are my grandpa’s, but we’ve since placed them in our local ossuary so that he can rest in peace.

How often do you feel like you want to bash your head against a wall? Before September, quite seldom. But with this month being so turbulent, chaotic, and nothing like I expected it to be, seldom has turned into every day.

Has anyone ever thrown you a big birthday bash? Sure. I had a big party when I was 7 and I also had a nice slew of celebrations when I turned 18. But if you mean a surprise birthday bash then no, no one has thrown one for me.

Do you know anyone who is brash? I do, but fortunately I haven’t had to work with her for a while now. I certainly often felt annoyed when I used to have to.

Do you typically carry cash or a credit/debit card? OMG Y’ALL I finally opened my own bank account last Friday I’ve never felt so grown-up until now haha. My dad helped me set up my first card, which is a debit card. :)

Have you ever crashed someone else’s party before? No, that sounds so annoying omg. I’d never want to be known as a gatecrasher. I know I’d be pissed if someone showed up to any of my parties uninvited.

Have you ever been involved in a car crash? Yes but fortunately they’ve all been super mild ones. One of my biggest fears is getting involved in a car crash where things would be out of my control and becoming seriously injured, like if a drunk driver crashed into me or if a 12-wheeler loses its brakes and slams into my car or something. I think I’d live in resentment for the rest of my life if that sort of thing happened to me and still ended up alive.

Do you use Door Dash? I didn’t know what this is so I had to look it up, and even though we don’t have Door Dash we do have several apps that do exactly the same services.

How often do you use a dash in your writing? I like using them in more casual contexts like survey entries, personal essays, feature articles, etc. I avoid dashes in academic writing since dashes are not really the most formal of punctuation marks.

Last place you made a mad dash to? The car repair shop that my dad asked me to meet him at because his situation was a little urgent at the time.

Do you make it a habit to flash people? Oh wow, no I don’t. That’s one of the last things anyone can expect from me. I like wearing revealing or skin-tight articles of clothing, but that doesn’t mean I like giving absolutely everything away lol

Do you prefer flash or no flash on a camera? No flash, always. I hate the effect that flash does and I never go for it, unless I’m in an area where lighting is poor.

Is the Flash one of your favorite superheroes? No. I’m not very big on superheroes to begin with.

Do you use the phrase “I’ll be back in a flash”? Not really. I find myself using “I’ll be super quick” more, or using ‘jiffy’ instead of flash.

Have you ever had a gash in your head before? Anywhere else on your body? I sported a gash near my eyebrow once because of some cousin who tried to blind me by hurling a glass jar towards my left eye and just narrowly missing my actual eyeball. Now there’s a scar in its place. Currently, I have multiple gashes on my arms and legs because Cooper.

Do you like hash browns? They’re okay, but I can’t have them all the time because I find them way too greasy for my enjoyment.

Do you do hash? No.

How often do you use hash tags? Almost never, unless I’m fighting for a political cause like BLM or calling for free mass testing. Hashtags got real lame real quick when they started getting popular around 7-8 years ago.

Do you have long eyelashes? Yes, it’s my favorite feature of mine and I get compliments on them fairly often.

How often do you lash out at others? For what reasons? Not often, but when I do it’s almost always because I’m already buckling under immense pressure and probably have nowhere to release my stress onto. I don’t turn it into an automatic mechanism though, because I don’t want to make others feel like shit for things they didn’t do.

Do you like mashed potatoes? I enjoy them but they’re not really my favorite dish. I can do 4-5 spoonfuls of them before getting over them haha, like I can never seem to finish a serving of it.

Do you typically gnash your teeth together? No I HATEEEE the sensation and the sound that it makes. My sister grinds her teeth in her sleep and it drives me nuts whenever we’re on a family trip and we share a room.

Do you know someone who speaks balderdash? Sure.

What color is the backsplash of your kitchen? White.

Have you ever had any rashes before? What kinds? Yes. Back in high school I used to occasionally get a random itchy area on my leg and whenever I’d scratch it, it would turn into an ugly patch of rashes. I never figured what the condition was but I’m just glad it’s never happened again.

Do you typically make rash decisions? Sometimes. I really tend to impulsive. The last one I made was swapping a full-time job opportunity for an internship with much lesser pay. Even I was surprised by how quick I jumped into the latter, but I like the nature of the work of the internship SO MUCH MORE, and I dunno if I’ll be happy with what I would be doing in the full-time gig. Plus, internships here are never even paid ones, so the fact that they even offered to give me an allowance per day just goes to show how good the company I’m interning for is.

Have you ever worn a sash before? I probably have but I don’t remember what for anymore.

Do you often find that your personality clashes with others’ around you? Yes, but I’m also good at adjusting to all kinds of personalities so I’m not too bothered by the clashes.

Whose tires would you like to slash? Any racist’s tires, really.

Who would you like to smash with? No one at the moment.

What was the last thing you smashed out of anger? I don’t really tend to be violent when I’m angry. The last angry thing I did was to throw my head against a pillow, but that’s it.

Do you have a secret stash of something hidden anywhere? Nopes.

How often do you take out the trash? My parents prefer to do it so they don’t really ask us to.

Has anyone ever told you that you look like trash? Other than myself, no.

Do you like to splash in the pool, the bathtub, or in puddles? I wouldn’t call it my favorite thing to do; I hate the mess that it makes, ha.

Have you ever thrashed violently before? What was the cause? Yeah. I probably embarrassed my grandma for life when I did so, but it was when I had to be confined to the hospital and they needed to insert the IV thing on me. It sent me into the worst panic attack I’ve ever gotten and I ended up thrashing a lot and several people had to hold me down so that the nurse could stick the thing into my wrist.

Do you own and use an eyelash curler? No. Those make me cringe so bad...I hate how they get so close to the eyeball. Kate brought her makeup kit to school everyday and she always made me try to learn how to curl my own lashes, but it just made me feel so nauseated lol

Have you ever experienced backlash from others? A few times before.

Have you ever had whiplash before? Never.

ATH

Do you prefer a shower or a bath? Shower. Much more efficient. Baths are relaxing, but I don’t like how I end up bathing in what’s pretty much dirty water.

Have you ever given another person or an animal a bath before? I’ve only given Kimi a bath. I let my dad bathe Cooper since he’s too much of a handful for now, plus I think it’s fair if we bathe one dog each haha.

How good are you at math? I can answer advanced algebra, statistics, and geometry questions if you give me enough time to review and get reacquainted with the formulas, but I’m perfectly alright with no longer revisiting trigonometry and calculus for the rest of my life.

Do you feel like your life is on the right path? Career-wise it definitely is; I’m happy with the direction it’s going right now. Everything else seems so turbulent at the moment and I can’t say I’m happy.

Are there any bike paths or footpaths in your area? We have sidewalks, if they count.

Have you ever gone on the warpath before? Not really. I do get very angry with certain people if I think they’ve been behaving badly, but I rarely get confrontational.

Is there a birdbath in your yard? No, those aren’t common here at all. I’ve only seen those in cartoons, I think.

Have you ever had a footbath before? Nopes.

What’s the last thing you’ve had to deal with the aftermath of? I can think of one thing but it’s still pretty triggering so I don’t feel like bringing it up at the moment.

Have you ever witnessed a bloodbath? Thankfully I haven’t. I get so queasy when I see blood though; it’s so much better off this way because I wouldn’t be able to deal with one at all.

Are you a sociopath or a psychopath? Do you know anyone who might be? No lol. I don’t think I know of anyone who could possibly be either. I wouldn’t want to associate myself with one in the first place.

Who’s the last person that you faced the wrath of? Myself.

AMP

Do you have an instrument that you plug into an amp? Nope, I own 0 instruments.

When’s the last time you felt amped up? What was the reason? Thursday morning when I parked in front of the office I was gonna have my job interview in. I needed to hype myself up to feel confident so I spent a couple of minutes in the car pumping my chest and screaming and shit, lol

Have you ever gone to day camp or overnight sleepaway camp? No. My mom wouldn’t have allowed me as a kid.

When’s the last time you felt like a champ? It’s been a while. I haven’t exactly felt like I’ve been winning in anything.

Last time it was damp where you lived? This afternoon. It was really humid for a good few hours and then it ended up raining.

Weirdest place you’ve ever had a cramp? My index finger whenever I’d try to use chopsticks; and my toes when I hiked in Sagada. The toe cramps were so bizarre I was actually laughing-crying the whole time the tour guide was treating me; my dad was taking photos of me too loooooool

Do you refer to your grandfather as “Gramps”? No. I call both of them Lolo, which is our local version of Grandpa.

Have you ever worn a headlamp before? No, I’ve never really had to.

Do you have a ramp anywhere in your house? I don’t think so, no.

Has anyone ever called you “scamp” before? No.

How many lamps are in the room you’re in? How many are actually turned on? There is one lamp, and it is currently turned on.

Do you stamp your feet when you are angry? It doesn’t tend to be a behavior of mine, no.

Last time you used a postage stamp? Not sure...grade school, probably? I never used those a lot.

Are there streetlamps on your street? What time do they turn on? Yep. I don’t keep track of their schedule but a safe guess would be either 6 or 6:30 PM.

Last place/area that you wanted to revamp? My room.

Do you know anyone who is a tramp? No.

Have you seen Lady and the Tramp before? Not the full movie but I’ve seen a lot of excerpts from watching Magic English as a kid.

Do you know anyone with a “tramp stamp”? I don’t think so.

AWK/AULK/ALK

Is the squawk of certain birds annoying? Which ones? I’ve never found any of them annoying, but maybe that’s also because there aren’t a lot of different birds flying around where I live.

Do you prefer hawks or falcons? And…why? I don’t have a preference; I’ve never encountered either.

Has anyone ever watched you like a hawk before? That sounds a little creepy and I wouldn’t want to know if anyone has.

What was the last thing you used caulk on?   I’m almost positive I’ve never handled that, haha.

[a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]

[pagesoflauren]

A Thousand Years (vampire!Jack x reader AU) - Chapter 19

Chapter 18 Masterlist

bit of a montage chapter :) it takes a village and then some to plan a wedding (~4k words)

Twelve Months to the Wedding

“We have a few dates available for the fall in the Great Hall and Conservatory,” the events coordinator says, flipping through his calendar book, “We have Friday, the 28th of September and Saturday, the 6th of October. There’s also,” he clicks his tongue, looking over the dates, “There’s also the following Friday and Saturday, the 12th and 13th respectively.”

“What do you think, love?” Jack asks Y/N, squeezing her hand.

“Well, October 13th is mum’s birthday, so let’s not take her day away. Do you have any preferences?”

“No, none.”

“In that case, I think we should go for the Saturday, so we’ll do October 6th.”

“Perfect,” he smiles, typing it into the computer, “And once you get a photographer, let us know so we can schedule engagement and save-the-date photos—those times all be easily available as I’m assuming you’d like to do them at night—if that’s what you’d like. Please call me”—he hands them a business card with his name on it—“if anything changes. We are so happy to host your ceremony for you here at Syon Park.”

“Thank you, thank you so much,” Y/N smiles, standing up and shaking his hand. Jack does the same, smiling widely at Y/N as they exit the office. Once they cross the threshold of the door, he immediately wraps his arms around her waist, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around as he blindly kisses whatever patches of skin his lips land on.

“I’m so happy,” he smiles, “we’re getting married.”

“So, since you’ve done the rather modern tradition of giving her an engagement ring, are there any traditions from your time we should fulfill?” Y/N’s dad asks with a smile on his face. Y/N and Jack had driven back to her hometown to recruit some members of the wedding party, specifically Adrian.

“Well, as dowry, usually the woman’s family would give the man their best sheep.” “Unfortunately, we don’t have any sheep,” her dad laughs. “That’s alright,” Jack smiles, putting his arm around Y/N, “got everything I need, anyway.”

“Adrian,” Y/N smiles as he plays with his toy trains, “Uncle Jack and I have something really important to ask you.” “Yes,” the child simply states.

Y/N and Jack look at each other, confused on how he knew what to answer.

“Adrian, love,” she laughs, “What did you think we were going to ask?” “Mummy said Uncle Jack wants to marry you. You’re asking me if I like Uncle Jack and want him to be apart of the family.”

The couple laughs to each other as Adrian pauses play time, smiling up at them.

“Not quite what we were asking,” Jack chuckles, “I did ask your Auntie Y/N to marry me. Our wedding will be next year.”

Adrian’s head snaps up, eyes excited and bright, “I want to be a groom-man!”

“Oh, that’d be a really big responsibility, lad,” Jack replies, ruffling the boy’s hair. “I can do it! I can do it! I can do it, Uncle Jack, I promise!”

Jack looks at Y/N, who only shrugs.

“Hm, that sounds like a grand idea, but we’ve still not got a page boy…” he sighs, feigning disappointment.

Adrian looks thoughtful before he scampers out of the room. Jack can faintly make out the whispering between Adrian and his father before the boy comes running back in.

“Daddy says a good groom-man al-always steps up when he’s needed. I’ll be page boy.” “Alright, Adrian! Already such a wonderful groomsman for me,” Jack grins, opening his arms wide. Adrian happily jumps into his embrace before turning to kiss Y/N on the cheek.

Y/N’s parents looked suspiciously amused as they walked through the door after talking to Adrian.

“Mum, Dad,” she said, “What’s going on?” “Well, we said we don’t have a sheep, so your mum and I went out and bought one.” “Oh, oh no, sir, you didn’t have to—“

Her dad disappears into the living room before returning with a large, fluffy stuffed animal sheep.

“Here’s our best sheep.” “Oh, that’s even better,” Jack laughs. “Maybe it can be our something new,” Y/N laughs, “And you can be the something old.” “Oi!”

Ten Months to the Wedding

“I’m so excited,” Y/N gushes as she, Jack, her bridesmaids and her mum file into the elevator after confirming their appointment with reception.

A sales associate, Jamie, greets them as the door open, directing them to the table of pastries and selections of coffee and tea to grab and help themselves to as Y/N shops for a dress. While the guests have their refreshments, they pull the couple aside to ask some questions.

“So, what’s the budget?”

Jack is quick to answer before Y/N can get a word in, “There is none.”

Jamie’s eyebrows raise quizzically at the bride, who looks at her fiancé in shock. “You’re mad,” she comments.

“Now, now, now,” they speak, waving away the cloud of disagreement that appears around them, “so, he says no budget, you say there should be one. Why don’t we agree on a range?”

“Fifteen to twenty,” Jack offers. “Hundred?” Y/N asks. “No, thousand.” “Absolutely not!”

Jamie’s face scrunches up in slight discomfort. “Okay, how about ten to fifteen?”

“No, still too high. Eight to ten,” Y/N states, “Too low!” Jack cries. “I don’t care, Jack, you’re not spending over ten thousand pounds on a dress I’m only wearing once!” “Eight to twelve. Nothing lower than eight. If it’s higher than twelve, it’s fine.” “I’m not looking higher than twelve.”

Jamie interjects quickly, “Is this budget including shoes and a veil?”

“I don’t want a veil.” “I want you to have a veil. And, no, this is just the budget for the dress. Add bridal jewelry as well, and shoes too. Pull out all the stops. Go ham, as you say.” “Jack—“ “Please,” he implores, “I promise whatever you settle on I’ll pay for it all. Glass slippers, a veil with crystals sewn into it, whatever. If you’re gonna indulge anywhere, indulge here, we’ll figure things out from there.” “You’ve turned into Groomzilla already,” Y/N laughs, “You’re insane.” “Maybe so,” Jack shrugs, kissing her temple.

“So, we’re in agreements, eight to twelve for the dress, then we’ll also browse shoes, veils and jewelry?” Jamie asks, hoping the couple will happily agree so that they can get started.

Y/N huffs through her nose, “If that’s what I have to agree to in order to get him outta here so I can start trying on dresses, then yes.” “No, wait,” Jack starts. “Jack, it’s tradition for the groom to not see his bride in the dress until the ceremony!” “But can I just see you in one dress?” he bargains.

Y/N huffs, glancing at the audience composed of her bridesmaids, her mum and Jamie. “Go and pick one you want to see me in,” she answers, much to the astonishment of her audience.

Jack looks over the moon as he browses through the racks while everyone takes a seat and Y/N stands with Jamie, waiting for him to make a selection. He pulls off dresses and replaces them before he settles on an A-line ball gown. It’s stark white with little embellishments on the bodice. It’s simple and a good start; he hopes she’ll like it.

He hands the hanger over to Jamie and they lead Y/N down the hall to the dressing rooms. Jack takes a seat on the couch next to Y/N’s mum, who pats his knee as it shakes in anticipation.

A few minutes tick by before he sees her reflection in the big mirror of the salon, head whipping around to watch her walk the rest of the way to them. She steps onto the stage, illuminated by the lights pointed at her to perfectly show all aspects of the dress and her. She smiles pointedly at him as he looks at her as if he was seeing the sun for the first time: in awe, in adoration.

“Well, Mr. Groom,” Jamie smiles, “what do we think?” “She’s…she’s a vision,” he chokes out, tears falling down his cheeks. He catches her rolling her eyes. “You are!” he exclaims, “You are. You’re absolutely radiant.”

He stands up to hug her, holding her tightly between his arms as he cries happily.

“Can’t wait to see the one you pick.” “Well, you’ll be waiting a long time, because you’ve gotta go now,” she laughs. “Wait, wait, give us a twirl,” he requests, taking her hand to keep her steady as she spins on the small stage, the gems on the bodice glinting as they catch the light. “Okay,” he sighs, leaning down to kiss her, “I’ll go now. I’ll be in the lobby.”

Jack waves from the elevator, keeping the image of her in the dress and filing it away into his happy memories.

“Oh thank God,” Jamie gushes, “I thought he’d never leave!”

Laughter erupts from the group of women before Jamie brings them back to business, asking Y/N what she thinks of the dress.

“I like it, actually, it’s not too far-fetched from what I wanted,” she says, turning to look at herself from the mirror, “but it is a bit simplistic, so I think I want something a bit…more.” “A bit more what?” they ask, looking very thoughtful and analytic. “Just…more,” she laughs, gesturing broadly, “But not too much,” she quickly tacks on. “Still don’t wanna go too over-budget.” “Alright,” they laugh, “But we like this silhouette, we like this neck line?” “Yeah, I do, or, I actually don’t know how the bridal entourage feels…”

They share their opinions and for the most part agree that the dress needs a bit more, but is in a good ballpark.

“I guess Mr. Groom knew what he was doing after all,” Jamie laughs, helping Y/N off the stage, “let’s get you out of this dress and I’ll do some browsing with your entourage to find something.”

Y/N had tried on five dresses that weren’t quite hitting the mark, each one more beautiful than the other, though all of them lacked the “wow” factor that screamed “This is her as a bride.”

“Maybe,” Isabel, one of Y/N’s childhood friends, began, “I know he pulled a white dress and we’ve been pulling white dresses, but maybe we should look for something with a pop of color. He always talks about how you bring color into his life.” “That wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Lily shrugged. “And it wouldn’t have to be all a different color. Just a belt or some colored beading.” “What do you think, mum? I know you wanted me in a white dress,” Y/N asks. “I’m not paying for it,” she shrugs, “I just want it to be the dress you want to wear.” “What are we thinking?” Jamie asks as Y/N looks at her reflection again. Her head tilts as she mulls over the idea, though it gives her a perfect angle to spy a dress on a mannequin, exactly what her bridal party is suggesting: white fabric with deep pink embellishments. “I think I should try that one,” Y/N says, craning her neck to point to it.

Jamie and Y/N walk back to the dressing room where they help her into it, zipping it up in the back and fastening all the buttons. When she sees herself in the mirror, bingo, is all she thinks.

“I think it’s this one.”

They return back to the show room, eyes already fogging up at the sight of her. There’s sighs and exclamations of joy and excitement, tears streaming down cheeks and squeals.

“That’s it, that’s the one!” appears to be the general consensus, making Y/N smile. First try and she got it right.

“I’d like to see it with a veil,” her mum says, “and shoes. And that necklace over there.”

Everyone pitches in to help dress her up, her mum pinning a golden headpiece and a veil into her hair and draping it over her shoulders as her bridesmaids help her into a pair pf dark red satin shoes, decorated with gold leaves at the heel. Y/N protests at the addition of another necklace, wanting to keep Jack’s locket around her neck for the ceremony, though she allows them to add bracelets on both her wrists.

When Y/N looks in the mirror, she gets the “wow” factor and more.

“How do we feel?” Jamie asks, smiling widely as they stand next to her entourage. “I feel like a bride. I wanna marry him, like, right now.” “Right now?” “Yes, right now,” she giggles almost deliriously, feeling so giddy and excited.

“Well, unfortunately your ceremony is in October so you’ll have to wait a bit. In the mean time, why don’t we get you out of this and down to Mr. Groom so he can pay for this?”

Since getting into gardening, Jack had grown quite the green thumb, becoming a proper expert on flowers and color schemes. He insisted they didn’t need a florist right away because he could come up with his own flower arrangements, and he did.

“Okay,” Jack says proudly, setting three vases on the dining table between the pieces of paper strewn about as Y/N works on seating arrangements and guest lists. He had been working on the flowers and ribbons all day and he’s excited to see her reaction.

She looks up, looking at the flowers with an unreadable expression. “What?”

Not the reaction I was expecting, his thinks.

“Well, what do you think?” he asks eagerly. “They’re nice,” she shrugs, her focus quickly going back to the papers in front of her.

Jack breathes in slowly, gathering his thoughts. “Thank you,” he manages (she did compliment them after all), “Which one do you like best?” “I don’t know,” she says. “You haven’t even looked—“ “Well, you know what, I can’t look right now, Jack. It’s not a good time if it wasn’t obvious, which apparently I guess it’s not because we’re here talking about this.”

For once, Jack feels small, her tone reminiscent of an angry mother scolding her child.

“My mum is asking me to invite some stranger and his family to our wedding and I have to rearrange the tables so that they’re not misplaced but I can’t do it without displacing a bunch of other people. And then we have to pay for them, which is ridiculous because I don’t even know him and you want me to think about flower arrangements?” “I’m sorry—“ “I haven’t got time to think about these right now so just take the stupid things away.”

She immediately goes back to working, scratching over someone’s name with the pen and then writing down another name. Jack’s eyes drift to the floor, feeling a little embarrassed before he takes another deep breath and gathers the vases into his arms again.

“I’m sorry.”

He sets them onto the coffee table and goes upstairs, bringing the cats along with him to give Y/N the space she needs.

“Jack?” Y/N asks as she knocks on the bedroom door.

She nudges the door open and is quickly greeted by the cats, mewling and rubbing against her legs. She’s more concerned with the man sitting on the bed looking at her over the screen of his laptop.

“I-I’m sorry,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry, and I’m so ashamed that I treated you that way, it wasn’t fair. Mum’s just really frustrating me and I took it out on you but that wasn’t right. I love you, and the flowers are beautiful. I’m so sorry.”

Her pride crumbles at her feet, tears falling down her cheeks as she quickly wipes them away. Jack doesn’t say anything, focusing on the stone on her finger that catches the light as she wipes at her face. He closes his laptop and sets it on the bed, getting up and walking towards her to bring her into his chest.

“S’alright. I just ask you to talk to me next time this happens. I shouldn’t have pushed you and I should’ve gotten the message sooner.” “I was horrible to you.” “No one I’d rather have be horrible to me than you,” he jokes, trying to make light of the situation.

Y/N buries her face in his chest, holding him tightly as he presses kisses to her forehead.

She mumbles something into his shirt, the clothing muffling her words.

“What was that?” he asks, slightly leaning back to try to get a good look at her face.

She turns her face away from his chest, resting her cheek there.

“I like the white, yellow and pastel pink ones. With the dark red trim.”

Jack smiles as he places his hand under her jaw to tilt her face up so she can look at him. He gives her a sweet, chaste kiss, leaning his forehead against hers.

“Those are my favorite, too.”

Six Months to the Wedding

“Shall we go?” Y/N asks, looking out the window and finding the sun has set enough to end the Golden Hour, ushering in the Blue Hour. Some light still floods over the horizon, but not enough to hurt Jack.

“Yes, yes, I’ll just have them turn on the lights for us and we’ll head out,” the photographer, Helen, smiles.

Y/N glances into the mirror to make sure everything’s good, fluffing up her hair and checking to ensure her makeup still looks good. They had spent the better part of the late afternoon and early evening taking photos in the library of the house, lounging and doting on each other. Some photos she was sat in his lap as they read together, others she’d be sitting on an ottoman as Jack read over her shoulder.

For these sets of photos, they ventured outside to take photos on the lawn and by the fountain. Helen snapped pictures of Jack twirling his fiancee before pulling her in for a kiss, sitting on the edge of the fountain in front of the conservatory. There was also a set up of candelabras and lanterns around a picnic blanket where Y/N put her head in Jack’s lap or they laid next to each other, smiling sweetly like two teenagers in love.

Later, when they launched their wedding website, doing so while lazing together on the couch, it was filled with pictures of them: holding hands, Y/N twirling as Jack held her steady, smiling at each other as Jack carried her, reclined together on the picnic blanket in the buttery glow of the candelabras and lanterns.

“I’m so excited,” Jack hums, pressing a series of kisses onto her, “I’m never gonna get over it. We’re getting married.” “You’re probably going to say that in the middle of the ceremony,” she laughs, “I’ll look at you and you’ll just say that.” “It’ll never wear off.” “Talk to me when I’m older and we’re both bitter.” “No, no way. Fifty years will go by and I’ll still look at you like this.” “You’ll have to make that promise at our wedding in front of all our witnesses.” “I will. And I’ll keep it.”

Four Months to the Wedding

The couple sits across the desk from Nathan, the jeweler who made the engagement ring. It was time to pick their wedding bands, and Nathan pulled out all the stops, mostly to satisfy Jack’s request to do so.

“I think I’ll stick with the rose gold, so that it looks consistent,” she says as he nods. “Excellent choice. Now for you, Jack, may I suggest a yellow gold—“ “What, me?” Jack asks, “I get a wedding ring too?” “Well, yes,” Nathan replies, allowing a chuckle to escape, “it’s customary for the man and woman to both get a wedding band.” “Since when?”

Of course he’d ask that. He’s been around for almost two hundred years. Times have changed, and he’s tried to keep up as much as he could, but some things have slipped past his observations.

“I believe the early 1900s, sir.”

Jack’s completely elated at this news. When he was growing up, only the women got wedding rings. Now he gets to have one like Y/N.

“I want rose gold, too, then. Like my fiancée. My wife.”

She smiles at him with adoration, finding it so sweet he’d do that for her.

“Forgive me, sir, but rose gold isn’t very customary for the groom—“ “I want it. I want to match her,” he states, no ifs, ands or buts about it. He makes it clear that’s his final decision and nothing is going to change it.

Two Months to the Wedding

After opening presents and indulging in some cake, Y/N chatted amongst Jack’s great-great-great-great grandnieces and friends when she heard the door open and close.

“What are you all doing here? Women only!” “I miss her,” she hears him explain.

As much as she loves him, she rolls her eyes.

She straightens up from her relaxed position, resting the small of her back against the counter top. She adjusts the sash that said “Bride to Be” and walked into the hallway, finding her mum reprimanding her fiancé.

“It’s alright, mum,” she laughs. She waves to Ash and Garrett and greets her father before Jack sweeps her into his arms, pressing his lips to her cheek and keeping them there.

“You’re a sap,” she teases, scratching the short strands of hair on the back of his head.

Some of her guests look on and coo at the display of affection.

“Tonight you better stay out with them until 2. You’re not allowed in the house till then,” she says, poking into his chest. “I don’t know if I can go that long,” he pouts.

Ash and Garrett gag behind them and Y/N laughs. “Ash, there’s some cake in the kitchen, help yourself.” “YES!” he cheers, disappearing into the room. “I’ll go make sure he doesn’t inhale it,” Garrett laughs, following his boyfriend. “Come socialize,” she says, bringing him into the living room. “As long as your aunts don’t—“ “Jack!! How wonderful to see you darling!” “Ah, Aunt Sharon, how are you?”

He’s swept away from her, throwing a pained look over his shoulder as she giggles.

“I’ve got money saying he doesn’t last five minutes,” Y/N’s mum whispers.

Y/N laughs before quickly collecting herself so to not draw too much curiosity to the situation. “My money says he won’t last ten.”

They set the stakes as they giggle and Y/N spots Jack scowling at her. He heard the wager. She only shrugs and blows him a rather chastising kiss, which causes his resolve to crumble as he smiles sweetly at her.

“You’re lucky,” her mum whispers, “Not that many fiancés would crash a bridal shower just to see their love.” “Yeah, I am,” Y/N smiles at him.

I love you, she makes out the movement of his lips.

I love you, too, she replies, hand over her heart.

“2 AM,” she laughs, “That’s four hours. You can go that long.” “Do I have to?” “Yes,” the men chorus behind him. Thomas had flown out just for this and his great-great-great-great grandnephews (or his “cousins”) had driven down as well, all of them ready for a night out. “You’re one for tradition, aren’t you?” Y/N pinches his cheek, “This is a tradition.”

Jack groans before she silences him with a kiss.

“Be safe, okay?” she whispers. “I will.”

Thomas loudly clears his throat and Y/N takes that as her cue to let him go.

“Have fun, boys. Take care.”

Jack’s nose wrinkles at his cousins’ choice of venue for a bachelor party.

“A STRIP CLUB?” he shouts over the music, mortified. “Yeah, mate!” one of them cheers, “Tonight, you’re single!” “But I don’t wanna be single,” he mumbles. “At least drink,” Thomas laughs, “Come on. Haven’t bought you a drink in ages.”

Jack cringes in discomfort as the girls dance on stage, though his cousins are having the time of their lives. Ash and Garrett are rightfully disinterested and Thomas laughs at Jack’s scowl.

Jack drinks mostly to avoid getting kicked out of the club, which required a two drink minimum in order to watch.

“IT’S HIS BACHELOR PARTY!” his cousins yell, throwing a couple bills into his lap, piquing the interest of one dancer in particular. Jack gathers the bills quickly and throws them back to his cousins. He just wants to go home now.

He stumbles through the door, catching himself before he nose dives. The cats are startled, meowing and crying out as Jack shushes them. He hears his partner’s feet padding across the floor and down the stairs. The light switches on and he squints.

“Hey, darling,” she greets, kissing his cheek, “How was it?” “Oh, Y/N! They took me to a strip club! I promise I didn’t look!”

She laughs, easily seeing how drunk he is.

“Gosh, I let you go out for one night and this is what happens?” “I promise I’ll never go out without you again!” “Jack,” she laughs, “I’m only teasing. Did you at least have a good time with Thomas?” “I did! He”—hiccup—“He bought me drinks! And so did the other lads!” “I see,” she smiles, having had figured that out the minute he began speaking. “Shall we go to bed, hm?”

Jack nods enthusiastically, following her up the stairs as she switches off the light. Once in the bedroom, he strips and puts on a pair of pajama pants. When he jumps into bed, the force is enough to propel Y/N up a few inches, sending her into a fit of shocked giggles. They laugh together before falling into each others’ embrace, pressing kisses to the others’ face before Y/N dozes off and Jack looks on much like he did when he saw her in a wedding dress. He can’t wait to see the one she chose. October 6th just won’t come fast enough.

tagging: @albionscastle

[ginasneesby]

September- Viv and Andy part 3

The next 3 days were set aside for a road trip, one I had done before and would do another 2 times this year, and yet could easily do it many more times. We headed out south of Auckland to Waitomo to go to the glow worm caves, however we decided to be a bit more adventurous than just sitting in a boat opting instead to fling ourselves off underground waterfalls. From Waitomo we drove over to Rotorua which is well known for geothermal sites, but also the best place to go to tap into Maori culture and fill your bellies at a hangi. Matamata is a short drive from Rotorua and is the film site for Hobbiton from the Lord Of The Rings and Hobbit movies. Since the Hobbit, it was rebuilt in sustainable material including the bridge, mill and pub meaning the tours involved a bit less imagination and more wishing you were a hobbit.

We had booked our black water rafting cave experience for the afternoon to give us time to drive down, the traffic leaving Auckland is notoriously crappy but it being a Thursday I was hopeful we wouldn’t get stuck. Waitomo is about 3 hours drive from Auckland so we drove straight to the company head quarters to get booked in, there are a number of different tours with increasing varieties of climbing, abseiling and tight squeezes. I am not really a fan of small spaces so was only comfortable with the ‘black labyrinth’ option which involved water and waterfalls and floating along on a rubber tube. We had an air bnb only down the road, but as we arrived in good time we had to leave all our stuff in the car and used the half hour or so we had to have a light lunch; not knowing what to expect we didn’t wanna eat too much in case we brought it back up all over the Ruakuri cave interior. The first job after booking in was to size ourselves up for our wetsuits, this consisted of standing outside the wetsuit cabin while the guys who were gonna take us round looked at us and chose by eye, I’m gonna say there’s less insulting ways to pick the size of suit but there you go. The suits weren’t really washed in between uses but they were sprayed down or dunked in water, so it was great to be reminded not to pee in the suits so you won’t be sitting in a wee soup for your tour. This doesn’t, however, mean you won’t be sitting in the previous persons wee soup which is a lovely thought. We were given socks and a jacket over the wetsuit to keep us warm, reminding us that it’s our body warmth that provides the heat so everything not covered will be chilly, including the fingers we’ll be using to grip the walls; good to know.

So wetsuits on, and ready to start our adventure we took a group photo of everyone on our tour, this consisted of me Viv and Andy and two other women so a nice, small group of which we were the majority. We drove down to where the entrance to the cave was which I recognised from my previous visit, parked up in the car park and headed to a pile of rubber rings so we could choose our own; these will be used to float along in some sections of the cave where the water was deep enough. Before entering the cave we stopped by a small patch of river which had a little wooden jetty sticking over it and were told the best way to not be shocked by the cold water was to acclimatise ourselves here, this meant getting in so that we could start warming up the water in our suits. What we didn’t realise, was that when they said get in the water here they meant jumping backwards onto your rubber rings, oh and by the way we’re going to take photos of you as you jump. We took our turns sticking our bums in our rubber rings and jumping backwards into the water, as expected it was pretty cold; the photos are very funny.

The entrance to the cave was back past the car park and through some bush, we had to climb over some rocks and down into a little divot which had a pretty small hole into the ground. At this point I was quite nervous as I do get a bit claustrophobic and I thought despite them saying that it’s not too tight most of the time actually this was beyond what I can handle. However as soon as you get into the entrance it opens out and after a few low ceilings at the beginning the rest of the tour is narrow but tall, high ceilings with all the glowworms above you making it a lot more manageable. We carried the rubber rings ourselves which were quite useful as a buffer so we didn’t knock into the walls but it did put us a little bit off balance trying to walk around in the dark with the water rushing over the rocks at our feet, we had head torches so we could see where we were going but it was still a little bit tricky. The water was cold and your hands remained cold the whole time (really useful for grabbing hold of things) but once your body warmed up what was in your wet suit it was actually quite pleasant. The tour lasted about two hours, we walked some parts and were able to float some parts and then we had three waterfalls to jump off, they were only about five or 6 foot high but you had to put your bum in your ring (woof) like last time and jump backwards. The tour guides had torches and advised you on an angle but basically you just had to jump and hope that you didn’t smack into the wall. I loved it, jumping off stuff is totally my bag but Viv was not so keen and upon reflection decided not to jump but did then get to climb down the waterfall which I’m sure had its own challenges and splosh in at the bottom.

At one point we stopped in a fairly narrow area and the tour guides gave us some chocolate fish which are pink marshmallow covered in chocolate, New Zealand staple sweets; a nice little sugar hit to continue the tour. Later we came to the area where the normal cave tour comes through and we could see high above people gathered on the walkway with their guides torches on the glow worms. Towards the end of the tour, after our last waterfall jump we were told to stay in our rings and link ourselves together by putting our boots under the armpits of the person in front of us. The guides then pulled us along and through an area which was absolutely covered with glow worms. We had to be really quiet like on the normal tour so that we don’t disturb them, they have issues with sound and vibration I imagine, so we floated underneath in complete silence looking up at the high ceiling that was covered in the lights; amazing. We were nearing the exit of the Cave and could see the light from outside, so the guides told us from there we were on our own, just keep going towards the daylight. We all made our way towards the light and eventually found our way out, some people swimming, some people walking and some people floating. We took one last group photo by the exit and then walked back to the bus to be taken back to HQ, once there we had to strip off all of our wet water gear and were provided a hot shower to warm up although these were still semi outdoors so not overly warm. We dunked our wetsuits in some freezing cold water and then hung them back up, that was the cleaning they had so seriously please don’t pee in your suit. We then made our way inside where we had a complimentary cup of tea, bowl of soup with a fresh bread roll. Our tour guides had been taking some photos as we went round, for obvious reasons we couldn’t take our cameras or phone, and they offered us the package to buy the pictures which we split between us. Most of the photos are us in the dark with a surprise super bright flash so we all look a bit dazed but it’s a good reminder of what we went through and managed to achieve which was pretty cool.

Our Airbnb for the night was just down the road, a hut with a number of rooms of which we have one to share between the three of us. However no one else was booked in, so we had the place to ourselves. We had a bit of food that I had brought from home and some hot showers which we all now craved before settling down for dinner and a movie. Viv being the 1st to go for a shower noticed that there were a few spiders in the bathroom, none of us are fans of spiders so we needed to do something about this, when I say a few they were about 20 and all webbing their way across the shower ready to eat whoever was brave enough to step inside. So we sent Andy in, and I’m sorry to say one spider massacre later we were able to have showers. There was a selection of DVDs at the cabin one of which was a famous New Zealand film that I haven’t seen yet, although not overly joyful it’s a great film, so spider massacre and ‘once were warriors’ is the main memory of that accommodation.

The next morning we drove to Rotorua, to our accommodation ‘the funky green Voyager’, booked by Viv, quickly dropped off stuff and headed to Te Puia for a full day of activities. Te Puia is a geothermal site in the Whakarewarewa valley also known as Te Whakarewarewatangaoteopetauaawahiao, which they challenge you to say on your way in. We had tickets for Te Ra and Te Po which meant we had the day to walk the paths stopping at mud pools, steaming vents and the largest geyser in the Southern Hemisphere and at night we had a show and hangi to look forward to. One of the highlights was definitely the kiwi conservation house, kiwis are nocturnal so it is kept dark inside during the day so visitors can see the birds awake. Te puia is part of a national programme to protect and breed kiwis, they are kept behind sound proof glass with natural vegetation that mimics the nz bush and stops them being disturbed. We saw north island brown kiwis which are the most common and bigger than you’d think, about the size of a chicken. They stomp loudly through vegetation and snuffle and snort their way along the floor, they also have big bums and can’t fly which means since nz was colonised and kiwi eating mammals started to come ashore their numbers have declined; they’re quite easy to track. Sad face

Te puia is also home to the Maori arts and craft school where young Maori students can learn wood, bone and stone carving (including pounamu jade) so the history of their people and the crafts handed down over generations is not lost. We were able to walk around the school, above the workshops and see some of the amazing art the students were working on, with simple tools and complicated techniques the products are fantastic.

Towards the evening we were ushered into the Marae, which is the Maori meeting house, where historically the culture is to be celebrated. You gather outside and wait to be invited in, this is where large, burly Maori men come at you with spears and fire to test your grit, if they like you they’ll offer you a leaf or branch and an older woman from the family with perform a karanga meaning you are welcome to enter. Inside we were treated to a wonderful show including Maori music, song, Hakka, poi and even a chance to get up and learn ourselves. Then the hangi feast (pork, potato, kumara and fish all cooked in the earth oven for the last few hours) we stuffed our faces from this delicious banquet and were surprised to learn the evening wasn’t finished. We were offered a ride in their vehicles (almost a petite train) down to the geysers to sit under the stars, on naturally heated stone seats and even enjoy some hot chocolate. Had I eaten even one potato less I would have had space for the hot choc, but enjoyed the sitting and geysers by night very much.

The next day was the part of the trip I was most looking forward to, how I had managed to save myself in nine months from going to Hobbiton I don’t know, but I had a feeling I would be going quite a lot with my visitors so I managed to stop myself. The Sun was shining, the sky was blue and we were booked on a lunchtime tour which included a buffet in a tent on the grounds of Hobbiton next to the Green Dragon pub. Now obviously we had stuffed our faces the night before at the hangi but somehow we still managed to eat quite well for lunch! They check you in away from the site and then you board a coach which drives the short distance to Hobbiton, along the way Peter Jackson welcomes you and you meet the family who own the farm that the filmset was built on. When I visited the site 10 years previously there wasn’t enough to see on the old set so the tour also included a visit to the sheep farm to watch some sheering, my how things have changed. Nothing can quite describe the feeling I got as we walked through the small gap in the hedge and entered Hobbiton as it is now, when I came before there were only a few remnants of some hobbit holes everything else had been taken down or destroyed. But now, not only were there fully built and decorated hobbit holes, beautiful paths to follow, a fully grown vegetable garden, the lake, the mill, the pub, but some of the houses even had smoke coming from the chimneys. The tour takes you round all of the main sites and the guides tell you a number of stories from filming both the lord of the rings and the hobbit including how they found the site and what drew them to it. One of the reasons was that there is nothing else around, and so the whole set feels so real, so immersive and just truly magical; at least to me. You finish in the Green Dragon pub with a large mug of beer that is only brewed to be sold at Hobbiton, which is a shame because it’s really tasty. Sadly, you board the coach to be taken back to the check-in and enjoy another little video from Peter Jackson about how meaningful and special the experience of filming the trilogy was, accompanied by background music of the saddest part of Return of the King; seriously it’s like they’re trying to kill me in this place.

Even more sadly, this was the end of our road trip and almost the end of Viv and Andy’s visit, we drove back to Auckland and with only plans to meet up the next day for dinner (because I had to meet some other people at the airport) I left them at their Auckland flat. And on to the next adventure…