#carding mill valley

[enchantedpixiesworld]

[omresult]

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[sibylsleaves]

looking for something dumb to do

4k | rated E | Five Alarm Fest Day 5 | read on ao3 It’s also not unusual that the app bay is almost empty when they walk inside, save for one engine parked along the side. What is unusual is the rows of white folding chairs facing the back wall. And the archway adorned with greenery and pale pink blossoms set up beneath the loft. And all of their friends milling about the app bay, dressed up like… Like they’re attending a wedding. Buck and Eddie's wedding day doesn't exactly go according to plan.

Rain finally comes on Sunday morning. By the afternoon, the governor declares the state of emergency over. After a grueling two weeks of battling wildfires across Topanga and Simi Valley, everyone at the 118 gets sent home.

They’d been on call for basically the duration of the state of emergency, and by the end of it, they’d all been running on sweat and fumes. Buck and Eddie rinse the past two weeks off themselves—the soot, the smoke, the grim exhaustion—and stumble into the Jeep.

They’re beyond exhausted by the time they shamble into the house and drag themselves into bed. But beneath the bone-tired weariness, there’s a need to be close to each other, so Eddie rolls into the center of the bed and opens his arms. Buck goes right into them, two hundred pounds of muscle and snuggles.

He sucks in a shaky breath and burrows into Eddie’s chest. “We’re supposed to be married.”

Eddie cards his fingers gently through his hair. “Are you thinking about the wedding?”

It had been months of planning. Months of Buck and Chris driving everyone around them completely insane because they needed every detail to be perfect. The wildfires had thrown everything out the window—even if they’d managed to get the day off, their wedding venue in Malibu had to close due to the smoke.

Buck shakes his head. “After everything we’ve seen over the past few weeks…after all that devastation…I’m just glad we’re here. Everyone we love is safe in their homes. That’s all that matters to me.”

Eddie strokes his fingers over Buck’s temple, brushing his thumb over his blush-pink birthmark. He loves this man so much. And Eddie knows—has known, since the minute Buck breathlessly confessed his feelings and Eddie took his face between his hands and kissed him for the first time—that he’s going to love him for the rest of his life. “We’ll figure it out. We can still have the perfect wedding you wanted.”

(continue on ao3)

[ridhearts]

The first step to your lofty diplomatic dreams starts here...

*note: the housewardens all follow a specific order! please click below for the chapters as they're intended to be read!

overview. ♕ [chapter i.] chapter is. chapter ii. chapter iis. chapter iii. chapter iiis. chapter iv. chapter v. chapter vs. chapter vi. chapter vii.

THE QUEENDOM OF ROSES - RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

The Queendom of Roses is essentially the economic hub of the continent, at least when it comes to foreign markets. Though any remaining relationships are strictly for business, the Rosehearts family has managed to maintain contact with all the other countries of the continent except Briar Valley. The Coral Coast conducts all of their trade through the Queendom of Roses - while Pyroxene is closer, they have adopted a rather solitary policy, so the Queendom was the next best option. Additionally, the Rosehearts heir has a strong connection to the young heir Che’nya from abroad, solidifying their standing in international trade. Thus, the Queendom has become the unofficial central hub.

The ruling family has a firm hold on trade and on every day life of their citizens. From strictly enforced tariffs and trade routes, to specific tea times and daily beverages that must be consumed, those within the Queendom have a strict regimen that they must adhere to. When attending an important event, the only nobles more easily offended at a brash display than the Pyroxenes are the Rosarians.

The Card Soldiers are Her Majesty’s royal guard and are widely regarded as some of the best personal officers around. Many young hopefuls are trained within the borders of the Queendom before returning to their country to serve their lords, ladies and sovereigns.

MEETINGS

The Queendom of Roses maintained a hesitant relationship with your kingdom during the war. Once news came to the Queen that a new family was taking power, an invitation was bestowed upon you: visit her country, spend some time at the castle, and learn all about the social etiquette of the upper class.

Considering you were only a humble villager before becoming the next in line for the throne, you accepted the invitation. In fact, you were grateful for it. The fact that you had been invited made it easy for you to strengthen your ties to their kingdom, and hopefully reforge your bond!

You traveled to their Queendom as soon as you confirmed the arrangement, eager to start your diplomatic journey. Along the way, you were astounded by the wonderful smell of flowers and the bright, colorful landscape. People milled about the cobbled streets in fanciful suits and dresses, sporting fun decorated hats and eye-catching cravats. The foot traffic darted everywhere, even in front of your carriage, yet rather than busy chaos there was a sense of orderliness to it. A deep chime of a clock tower struck, spurring everyone on with a renewed sense of purpose. It was quite the contrast to your gray, rocky kingdom, where there was still physical damage visible from the dirt main streets and hopelessness seemed a day away.

Although, arriving on the castle grounds, you were surprised there wasn't much…fanfare. Your previous king always made a grand procession out of visitors, even when the visitors became a slow trickle of mages called in to protect the magestones and gorge themselves on food bought with taxpayer money. The guards, expecting your arrival, let you inside of the castle. It was quiet, so quiet your heeled shoes clicked against the floor and echoed. For a moment you thought you got the date wrong and worried that you were trespassing.

Somebody's heels approached from the hallway, quick and steady against the solid, shining floors. You were expecting a regal queen with a large dress, akin to the dresses your mother now wore. Instead, you watched as a short boy with red hair appeared, taking the stairs with ease. He held you in a gaze that bordered between blank and narrowed while gracefully closing the distance between the two of you. No matter how he compared to you in size or how cute he appeared, his aura of command was simply too strong for you to reject. You couldn't decide if the scepter in his hand was an accessory or a weapon.

"Ah…" You trailed off dumbly. His expression didn't change, but something flashed in his eyes and you could tell that your introduction was a test which you already failed. Suddenly rushing in your movements, you fumbled with the fabric of your clothes, tried to remember how to position your hands, and did your best curtsy or bow.

"Greetings…your highness?"

A moment of silence stretched between the two of you, unfriendly and unforgiving. The boy's eyes were as cold as an iron sword left unsheathed in the dead of winter. The longer he looked at you, the more the corners of his mouth tilted down into a small frown. Admittedly, it looked more like a pout than a frown, but you didn't dare utter a word and push yourself further from his good graces.

"Unacceptable," he finally muttered, averting his disappointed gaze. You swallowed.

"Apologies," you tried again. "You caught me off guard. I was expecting the Queen."

"Mother will not be administering your courses. She has left the duty to me," He explained. With a glance, you finally registered the small crown on his head, but quickly ducked your head back down in apology.

"I wasn’t aware. We didn't discuss the details in our letters."

He examined your bashful expression before stepping back, deciding this argument wasn't worth wasting time on. "Very well. My name is Riddle Rosehearts. I am the son of the queen and the heir to the throne. It is my duty to ensure you pass the same etiquette training I received, so that you might not tarnish what little reputation your country has left."

Your heart sank at that. There wasn't a moment that passed where you didn't love your country and its people. Your family risked their lives to fight for a better future, and now you were the one responsible for enriching your people's lives in every way you could. Even if you didn't have much of a name for your country, the dig still hurt. But you needed this to go well more than anything else, so you forced a polite smile.

"Shall we start immediately, then?" You asked sweetly.

Riddle scoffed. "Yes. Our first lesson: do not smile so widely. It is most assuredly without grace."

You instantly dropped your smile and followed Riddle through the hall.

The invitation didn't specify much of the details: who would administer your courses, how long they would take place, what exactly counted as passing - all these things were unknown to you. It appeared, though, that these lessons were going to be much more intense than you thought.

On the first day, Riddle nearly scolded you for coming so ill-prepared when you told him that you didn’t have anything with which to take notes. After staring at you for a moment, he huffed and left the room wordlessly. You sat on the edge of your seat, anxiously twiddling your thumbs until he returned with a bound journal and pen. Though he didn’t allow the book to slam on the table in front of you, he did pass it to you with a pointed look that served the same purpose as a loud thwack! Still, he was mostly addressing the basics verbally, indicating where you should be taking notes…which was practically after everything he said.

It lured you into a false sense of security. Maybe the prince had a bit of an attitude problem, but he was knowledgeable, and he’d pass his knowledge onto you for you to write down and review on your own time - preferably when you were far from the confines of this castle and on your way back home.

How wrong you were.

The very next day, he insisted that you put everything he told you into practice, without notes. You sputtered. “Certainly you don’t honestly expect that I’ve remembered all that?!”

“Why not? Any diligent student would have studied for at least an hour after lessons.”

“An hour?! We went over the information for hours after dinner, and I needed sleep!”

Riddle wasn’t one to be reasoned with, however, and still insisted you repeat the information back to him. Feeling stuck in the castle, without much of an option, you sighed and did your best.

Of course, how could anybody remember the precise order of nobility in such a short amount of time? There were so many dinner, lunch and breakfast rules to learn, ones that seemed to change based on the meal, the day, the amount of time you were sitting at the table after finishing your meal…

Every day, Riddle heaped hours of information on you, then expected you to relay it back to him the next day perfectly. When you fumbled the order of nobility, he made you write the order in your journal fifty times without looking at a reference. If your handwriting wasn’t up to snuff, he made you write out entire sections of the Queendom’s law in perfect script. Your pace and posture had to be perfect, or else you were forced to walk up and down the massive hallways with books stacked upon your head. At meals, every bite had to be prim and proper, or he’d lecture you before you could even pick up your fork again. 

And don’t get him started on the dancing.

You were dreadfully ill-prepared for the dancing. How did you know? Riddle told you first thing in the morning when he met you in the library and immediately shooed you out to go to a ballroom. There was no good morning to preface the information; just, “This next lesson will be positively dreadful.”

The first few hours were spent learning simple steps and motions, where to put your hands, how to follow and how to lead, et cetera. He even brought in two of his staff to help you in practicing switching off. You didn’t spend long in their company, but one of them insisted you were the sweetest thing, while the other gave you a wry grin in silent apology for Riddle’s behavior. It was a welcome reprieve.

But then it was back to being the focus of Riddle’s vigilant attention, and you ended the day with sore feet and growing animosity towards the only country that bothered to remember yours even existed.

You were in the middle of drafting a letter to your father, letting him know that the lessons were intensive and you’d be staying another week but you missed him and the others terribly, when there was a knock on the door. Opening it, you saw the green-haired butler from earlier. He informed you that tomorrow morning, you’d have the day to yourself while Riddle went to oversee some business with the Card Soldiers and you were welcome to attend, but your presence was not an obligation of your lessons. The way he said it made it seem like the only smart option.

Still, the next day you ate your breakfast slowly, trying not to notice how empty the large dining hall truly felt without Riddle berating you for doing something wrong. You barely even noticed how much care you were taking to eat the way he taught you, too lost in thought on what you should do.

After you finished, you glanced at the clock and then remained seated to think. You could explore the castle, or brush up on your assignments. Or, you mused dryly, you could hop in your carriage and leave, never to be seen or heard from by any Rosarian ever again. Or, a little voice said, you could check on Riddle.

You instinctively looked at the clock again, right as 15 minutes had passed. You hated when the universe gave you signs pointing in the direction you didn’t want to go.

Tentatively, you wandered through the halls the way the butler told you to go, walking past eclectic decorations of mainly red and black. Two large doors (that were, honestly, more window than door) led to the gardens, which then led to a training field. Walking through the lush green hedges and fragrant red roses, you were hit by how much you stuck out, dressed in dreary gray. Depressed, you realized that maybe you didn’t fit in at all - you were just a peasant playing royal, and maybe you were a lost cause.

Startled shouts caught your attention, snapping you out of your pity. You hurried towards the training field, a little less graceful than Riddle would have liked, and stopped right as you rounded the corner. 

You were just in time to see Riddle shouting and waving his scepter, summoning a heart-shaped collar around the neck of a redheaded recruit. He immediately yanked at it, though the annoyance in his face indicated that this had happened before. Still, he bit back at Riddle’s vicious words with venom of his own. You admired this future soldier more and more with each thing he said.

All at once, the commotion died down, and everybody fell silent. From the other side of the field, the queen approached, adorned in a great dress with a startlingly high collar. Her crown and scepter were both bigger than Riddle’s, though her hair was a similar, rich shade of red. As she approached, Riddle almost seemed to shrink back. It seemed like a smarter decision for you to duck back behind the corner and eavesdrop than stand and watch dumbly.

Due to the great distance between you and the other royals, you couldn’t quite make out every word that was exchanged. All you knew was there was a cold fury underlying her tone, and nobody dared to interrupt. Harsh words like ‘expected better,’ ‘utterly disappointing,’ ‘wasted authority,’ and ‘disgrace’ floated to you in the wind, so bitter and sharp that you almost felt like crying. After a while, you heard footsteps that you now knew were Riddle’s, and they were much faster than the pace he insisted you keep. For a moment you were worried he’d turn and catch you hiding, but he entered the castle through a nearby door instead. After a moment of holding your breath, you hurried back to the guest room and tried to avoid all the staff, as if you had heard a secret regarding national security and not a very public argument.

For the rest of the morning, you stared aimlessly at your notes, something like guilt gnawing at you. Lunch was spent alone again, and you hurried to get out of the too-big room. Afterwards, you waited in the library for your lessons to begin, but nobody showed up. Hesitantly, you checked the ballroom - also empty. Huffing, you wandered the grounds aimlessly, hoping to run into Riddle and to not run into the queen. Eventually you did run into somebody, but it wasn’t anybody you held a conversation with before.

The orange-haired member of the staff that helped you in your dancing lessons bounded up to you with a bright smile. “Heya! I come bearing what I assume to be good news!”

“Oh?” 

“Yup! Your lessons for this afternoon have been canceled! Though I can see you figured that out from how difficult it was to find you.”

“Oh…” You trailed off, not sure why you felt disappointed. Then you asked, “Did something happen? Something I can help with?”

A sad half-smile took over Cater’s expression. “It would be rude to ask a guest to help settle internal affairs.”

Nodding, you waved farewell to Cater and resumed your mindless wandering for a while. It seemed royals didn’t know how to behave when the feelings and security of others were involved. The grand halls felt all too imposing all of a sudden, like an ominous picture of what you were to become. Would you, too, become callous and cruel, uncaring for your people, uncaring for your family? Would your temper become a small fuse, lit at the smallest infraction?

Shuddering, you spent the remaining hours until dinner distracting yourself with your studies. Dinner was spent alone, again. This time, once you finished, you stayed at your seat for longer than 15 minutes, stuck in a loop of rumination. It wasn’t until Trey called your name that you snapped out of your miniature trance. In his hands, he held a tray of slices of a strawberry tart.

“Oh, you’re still here. Would you like dessert?” He asked, already offering you a plate and a fork. You took it in your hands and held it, not sure if you were willing to spend another 20 minutes aware of how lonely the table was.

But Trey was watching you expectantly, so you cut off a small piece and tried it in front of him. A second after the bite hit your tongue, your eyes widened in surprise. “Woah! This is amazing!”

Trey looked bashful. “Ah, it’s nothing. Riddle thinks so, too. They’re his favorite, after all.”

At the mention of Riddle’s name, you focused your gaze on Trey rather than the tart. “Are you bringing those to him?”

Trey nodded. Then, almost conspiratorially, he added, “But if anybody asks, this is a welcome gift for you.”

“Very well,” you said instinctively, not wanting to involve yourself in personal affairs. As Trey left, though, you couldn’t stop the nagging feeling in your gut. Sighing, you stood and said, “May I take those up with you?”

'Taking the tray up with him' wound up being you standing outside the door to Riddle’s room by yourself. Tentatively, you knocked, trying your best to balance the tray on one hand. In a firm, cold voice, Riddle called out, “Busy.”

You weren’t sure if calling out to him and revealing it was you would make him open the door or insist you leave him alone. Instead, you knocked again, more persistently. Again, Riddle called out, “Busy!”

Adjusting the tray on your hand, you huffed and hit the door solidly once with your fist. Then you stepped back, expecting the door to swing open in indignation. It did, revealing a very angry Riddle who was ready to chew out a member of his staff, or perhaps send them to the dungeon (if the castle even had one. You weren’t sure.) When he saw it was you, shock took over his expression - then indignation, annoyance, and finally, resignation. “What are you doing? I don’t need to tell you how inappropriate that was, do I?”

“You weren’t answering,” You defended, knowing full well that you sounded rather petulant. In an attempt to lessen his aggression, you displayed the tray of tarts. “This was important.”

Conflict flashed in Riddle’s eyes as he gazed at the tarts. Then he cleared his throat and looked away. 

“Dessert is not important,” he started, reluctantly. Trying to change the subject, he said in an accusatory tone, “For the record, it could be scandalous if you were caught outside my room, alone, at night, with a tray of sweets.”

“We haven’t gone over the dessert lessons. How was I to know? I’m also not sure exactly what quantity of dessert is considered appropriate, but I’m almost positive it isn’t eight slices at once. I’ve already had a bite of one, and if I’m left to eat these by myself, I will eat them all.”

Riddle tried to appear scandalized, but only seemed to be amused. “You’d think I’d have learned by now that there is no getting through to you…” But he stepped out of his room, shut the door, and led you to a balcony where you could eat your dessert together in peace.

The two of you sat on opposite sides of the small table on the balcony, overlooking the rose maze. In the distance, the lanterns of the village glowed brightly, the buildings tall and concrete. You were too amazed upon your arrival to realize how different the Queendom of Roses truly was from your country. It was more…stable. Your people deserved such security and beauty.

When Riddle wasn’t breathing down your neck to overanalyze every motion you made during a meal, he was surprisingly peaceful company. You ate your first slices in silence, admiring the dark landscape and sorting through the tension that was thick within the castle walls.

Riddle broke the silence first. “What is it like in your country?”

“Hm?” You asked, before you could stop yourself from acting disgracefully. Riddle didn’t seem to mind, at least, not this time. It never occurred to you that you hadn’t really talked about your home while you were here. Everything was all business, all etiquette and lessons. “It’s…not as green, for starters.”

“You’re situated right beneath the mountain range, right?” He asked, though you knew he wasn’t truly asking for clarification. “Do you…dislike it?”

“No! Not at all!” You insisted, and finally the dam broke. “It’s great at home. The ground is solid and there are forests with rock shelves like giant staircases up the mountains. The peaks are majestic, and there’s almost always a comforting fog in the mornings that feels like a cozy blanket…”

As you talked about your country, Riddle listened with rapt attention and helped himself to a second slice of tart. Every now and then, he’d interject to ask questions, getting you started on a new tangent about your life before royalty and your favorite home traditions. By the time you slowed down and realized how much you’ve been talking, most of the tart was gone and your throat was dry. Doing your best to clear it gracefully, you avoided Riddle’s steady gaze.

“I…realize I forgot many of your teachings,” You said meekly, your voice significantly softer. Riddle widened his eyes and soon watched his lap. He frowned and, much like when you first met him, it appeared more as a pout.

“I wasn’t thinking about that at all,” He admitted. A warm breeze blew over the both of you, nearly carrying his voice away with it. This shy vision of him was far different from the authoritative version that usually walked through the castle. “It sounds lovely, back at your kingdom. I was simply enjoying your stories. And…you’re much better company than the previous king.”

You laughed at that, starting at the prim giggle he originally made you learn before it escalated into something a little more true. “The competition was really stiff, was it?”

Riddle chuckled with you, a warm and rosy blush crawling to his cheeks. After a few stressful weeks for the both of you, a healthy laugh devolved into near-hysterics, taking much longer than the situation truly called for. As the two of you tried to calm yourselves down, you avoided making direct eye contact for fear of starting up again. Instead, you both looked over the small piece of the village again, willing the serenity to reach you.

Your thoughts calmed, first at the beauty of the lights against the dark sky, then at the overwhelming pull of how badly you wanted to achieve this for yourself. There was so much to be done: even after your people fixed the battered streets and structural damage, even after the harvest came and went and you properly rationed the food that wasn’t destroyed, even if you managed to reinstill some semblance of trust in the government of the country, all that work would only bring you to sea level. After that, there was much to improve: defenses, infrastructure, overall quality of life, foreign relations…and, on top of it all, you still had to figure out how, exactly, to defeat the encroaching blot.

For a sobering moment, you realized exactly where you were. The results of the war caught up to you, a king and countless innocent people dead, you and your family on the throne and the final defense between everybody and an unknowable monster. There was so much you didn’t know, and yet it was up to you to save it all.

“I never brought it up,” You started quietly. “But…thank you for continuing to support us all this time.”

Riddle appeared bashful - or ashamed? “Ah…it was nothing. Actually, it was purely strategic. Whoever emerged victorious would be appreciative of our support.”

“Ah. Well, I am,” You admitted, shifting in your seat. “Who knows? Maybe there are a couple of magestones with your name on them back home.”

“I see I’ll have to add a lesson in negotiating to our plans.” Finally, Riddle stood, smiling the kind of grin that, on anybody else, would be accompanied by rolling eyes. He held out his hand, clearly offering for you to take it. “It was a pleasure talking to you. Here’s to reaffirming our alliance.”

Taken aback by his sudden shift into prince mode, you gingerly place your hand on his and let him guide you out of your seat. “Here’s to affirming our friendship.”

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. Then, slowly, as he watched with wide eyes for any hint of dissent, Riddle bent at the middle and pressed a chaste kiss to your knuckles so quickly, it was hardly anything more than an accidental brush.

With your newfound understanding of each other, the future lessons went by quickly. No longer uncomfortable in the castle, you were able to study more efficiently, eventually reaching Riddle’s expectations. He split your workload into sections, taking you on frequent breaks to walk around the castle grounds. While you weren’t working on etiquette or any questions you had, you both planned ideal ways to welcome the other into your respective countries. It was like gossiping with your friends in the village all over again, and it gave you hope for the monumental tasks ahead.

Finally, with most of your lessons having been successfully completed, Riddle spent your final week helping you draft trade agreements, giving you a rundown of each nation’s specialty, the best trade routes, and other important information. For the time being, you knew you’d have to get most of your resources from him - all the other routes were in various states of disrepair, and your relationship with other countries was still practically nonexistent.

One day, he sent Trey to lead you to his office. As Trey opened the door, you were struck by how official Riddle looked behind the grand desk, framed by massive bookcases and an intricate tapestry behind him. However, his stern expression eased as soon as you walked through the door. He gestured at a seat across from his desk, waiting for Trey to shut the door before interlocking his fingers and resting his chin on them.

“We don’t normally do paperwork in here,” You mused, looking around. Once you settled your gaze on him, Riddle straightened his posture and tapped on the forms in the center of his desk with one finger.

“Yes, well. This one is a bit more finicky,” He explained. Curiously, you slid the paper your way and scanned the words carefully. As the words sunk in, your eyes darted from the paper to Riddle and back again.

“You’re transferring some of your Card Soldiers?” You asked. “Thank you, but I couldn’t take them away from home so suddenly.”

“Nonsense. They’re eager for the opportunity. Besides,” Riddle lowered his voice, eyes drifting from side to side as if somebody could simply appear. “You would be doing a great service for them and me.”

Glancing at the papers again, you read the names printed in Riddle’s neat handwriting. After a moment’s hesitation, the names clicked and you remembered which soldiers he was talking about. The two card soldiers had a propensity for trouble - not the kind that would endanger you, but the kind that would endanger them the longer they remained under the rule of the queen. Nodding slightly, you held your hand out for a pen to confirm the transfer.

“Personal guard, huh?” You mused. The situation in your kingdom was getting more and more official with each passing day. It gave you hope.

When it was finally time for you to depart, you thanked Riddle for all of his help with a deep - and perfect - curtsy or bow. He bowed in return, then the both of you watched each other for a moment. The queen hadn’t welcomed you, and she wasn’t seeing you off; after your inadvertent experience with her, you figured that was best.

“I’ll write to you,” You decided firmly. Behind you, the door to your carriage was opened, signaling that it was time to start the long journey home.

“Yes. I look forward to hearing how my lessons have assisted you.”

“That,” you agreed, “and to check in on you. As friends. Interpersonally.”

Riddle paled and cleared his throat. “A-ah, right. I’ll…I look forward to that, as well.”

With a smile and a wave, you turned and made your way to the carriage. Though you would miss Riddle, you were eager to return home and see what progress had been made. You kept waving until the carriage rolled past the gates, but you only turned your back to him once you could no longer see the difference between his white uniform and the white castle steps.

Riddle watched you leave, not daring to release the wistful sigh in his chest until you were entirely out of sight.

[leighrobertsreads]

El sol es nuestro reloj

@flashfictionfridayofficial 264: Counting Clocks

“The sun is our clock”

Fandom: Encanto (2021) Characters: Juancho (the Coffee Kid), Bruno Madrigal, Mirabel Madrigal Relationship: Bruno/Mirabel (engaged) Word count: 640 Also available on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57882766

Author’s note: school running through eighth grade for all children in the Encanto is my personal headcanon. It would have been amazingly egalitarian for early 20th century Colombia, where the vast majority of the population didn’t get to go to school past fifth grade, and certainly not with the children of the leading family in town: https://justinhauver.com/a-brief-history-of-education-in-colombia/

Aside from treasured pocket watches, many of which had ceased to move decades ago, there were very few clocks in the Valle del Encanto. The large one on the plaza bell tower was decorative, though the foreigner who came to the village last year and was designing an organ for the church claimed he might be able to build a clockwork for it. Unlike the spinning mill that was started as soon as they were lucky enough for a textile mill engineer to seek refuge in their valley, a lack of clocks was not a priority to remedy.

Instead, they could just look at where the sun was in the sky, or the sundials around town if they were newcomers who hadn't learned how to read the sky yet.

As every little Encanteño learned in school (which every little Encanteño was welcome to attend through age fourteen, to the initial wonder of many of their parents), the Equator ran through the southern part of Colombia. In their valley in the northwest part of the country, six degrees north of the Equator, on both the shortest days from día de las velitas through la epifanía (11 hours, 45 minutes) and the longest around fiesta de San Juan (12 hours, 30 minutes), the sun would rise at 6 in the morning and set at 6 in the evening, and it was prudent to take a siesta from 1 to 3 in the afternoon.

A few minutes one way or the other were not worth quibbling over in a place without the trains the Forty-Sixers and some of the Fifteeners had talked about.

Juancho found it grossly unfair that he was expected to sit still and pay attention on school days for ten more minutes in June than in December without coffee. Like all the other children in town, Señorita Mirabel had been one of his favorite grown-ups... until she taught Señor Madrigal to check his bag for a bottle before class.

When he complained to Señor Madrigal about this injustice one day after class, his Latin and religion teacher shrugged and replied, "she doesn't let me have more than the one at breakfast, either, no matter what time of year."

"Jorge says you're under the thumb." It was apparently true.

Señor Madrigal's face reddened, and he stuffed everyone's papers into a heavily-decorated bag. "Gotta go, running late for a very important appointment!"

Juancho looked out the window. Señorita Mirabel was approaching with the same look on her face that she had when she took the class for their turns to work in the wool carding shed, something that she enjoyed a lot more than most of them did.

He would have felt sorry for Señor Madrigal, but Jorge also said that he liked being under the thumb. Some of the other older boys snickered, but then Rodrigo said something about preferring to be under some other part of Señorita Mirabel, and got Jorge's fist in his face.

Fun at Señor Madrigal's expense was one thing, but it was never the right time to insult Señorita Mirabel.

"It's time to go to Señor Ruiz's!" she announced as she entered the schoolroom, then ruffled Juancho's hair.

"Ooooh, you're getting reading glasses like my Abuela did last year!"

Señor Madrigal put his face in his hands.

"Time marches on for us all,” Señorita Mirabel said, putting a hand on his shoulder after glancing out the door for some reason.

"But it beats the alternative,” Señor Madrigal replied, laying a hand over hers and smiling the way Juancho's papá did at his mamá when it was definitely time for Juancho to find somewhere else to be.

Feeling daring as he dashed out to get that coffee he'd been craving, he asked a question sure to score him points with Jorge and the gang:

“When’s the wedding?”

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from CalMatters:

California’s fifth largest wildfire is encroaching on some of the last strongholds for imperiled salmon, with potentially devastating consequences for a species already on the brink. 

The explosive Park Fire has spread into the Mill and Deer Creek watersheds in Tehama County, which are two of the three remaining creeks where wild, independent populations of spring-run Chinook, a threatened species, still spawn in the Central Valley. 

If the Park Fire climbs to higher altitudes, federal and state officials said it could strike the final deathblow to the region’s spring-run salmon, which are already at risk of extinction.

“It’s really concerning. It’s really sad. Spring-run Chinook populations have taken such a hit over the past few years, and they’re just at a critically low point,” said Howard Brown, senior policy advisor with the Central Valley office of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s West Coast fisheries region. “The emotional toll of seeing a fire like this hit such an important place, with (critically at-risk) populations that are suffering so bad, it just feels like the cards are stacked up deeply.” 

Experts are anxiously awaiting the wildfire’s next move, hoping that it doesn’t spread farther into higher elevations. That’s where adult salmon are waiting in cool pools for water temperatures to drop and flows to rise so they can spawn, and where year-old juveniles are gaining strength before migrating to the ocean. 

“We’re kind of at the mercy of the weather and wind to see if these fires creep along doing beneficial to less-severe things, or if we see a big run that really cooks the watershed,” said Matt Johnson, a senior environmental scientist with the California Department of Fish and Wildlife Northern Region Anadromous Fisheries Program. 

“The species is at real risk of extirpation or blinking out. We hope that doesn’t happen,” he said.

[alexmurison]

Winter adventures in the misty Carding Mill Valley.

[nicotinzwei]

February

Hello, February was stressful but okay. The last months I picked a song to listen to parallel to reading but I literally didn’t listent to new songs this month.

Book

Krabat from 1971 is a short novel by Otfried Preußler based on an old sorbian story. It describes 3 years in Krabats life in which he originally wants a summer job at a mill but then accidentally does dark magic. The audio book is only 3 hours long, one for each year, and is on youtube for free. It’s narrated by the author who describes scary or fantastical moments is such a casual manner that sometimes makes me want to scream at him, but also really adds to the mood of the books and Krabats seemingly dead-end situation. After finishing I found out that they built some sort of themed area in the place the story is set. There you can find all sorts of fun attractions for kids like a haunted mill, places of deaths of the characters, a sunken carriage and a graveyard. You can also rent the location for company events or weddings so you already know what I’m gonna do.

Movie

This month I went to my first cult movie screening. I saw a very cleaned up version of Rocky Horror as a play before which was also filled with audience participation but seeing The Room in a small old Viennese theatre with drunk students for its 20th anniversary was just so much better. I love the concept of audience participation and am kind of sad so few movies got the cult status needed for it. For this movie there are a bunch of callbacks pointing out weird details, famous lines you can quote, props like spoons or footballs you can throw or you can just scream at the characters for being so fucking stupid. Some people even came in a suit. I think after like two decades of going to the cinema this was my favorite experience. In an age of Netflix I really think this is how you keep cinema and communal watching alive.

Game and Videos

A double feature category! I started playing Animal Crossing: New Horizons again. I already had like 300 hours in this game and thought I was through with it, but then I started watching the Amanda Files and she got me hooked. The first video of her I saw she visited some horror themed island and described the plot of Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 in her valley girl voice and it’s the funniest thing I ever heard. She could talk about literally anything for 2 hours and I would listen to her while playing animal crossing.

Website

I didn’t know what to call the category because it’s not really about the website but more about the concept of buying second hand directly from people. The vintage fashion thing got so big over the last few years that especially in Vienna second hand stores are selling the stuff so overpriced that even if you only do it for environmental reasons you just can’t afford it anymore. But after I got two harmonicas second hand earlier this year I really started looking through willhaben religiously. This month I picked up a table only like 4 minutes away for 20€ and two days later I sold my old one for the same amount. If you live in an area where a lot of people are using it and you have a friend to carry stuff this is such a cool opportunity to basically just swap your stuff for free if you play your cards right. Now every few weeks on my lunch break I go somewhere, pick up a picture for 3€ and get in a little walk. Highly recommend it!

[raywritesthings]

as few or many as you like!

◉ postwar headcanons: trapper, BJ

♡ romantic headcanon: margaret, hawkeye

☮ friendship headcanon: klinger

ൠ random headcanon: sidney

Hm interesting ones for sure, had to think a while about them.

Postwar:

Trapper - thinking about this for him is interesting because when Trapper leaves, the war keeps going on. I think it would be a bit of culture shock to him when he gets back at first to an America that by-and-large is just going about their lives without much concern or care for the people stuck back in Korea. I think there’s some things he tells Louise and some things he doesn’t (and not just his other relationships, which is already assuming she doesn’t already know or have guessed). I think sometimes when it’s quiet and he can’t sleep at night, or when he hears a plane or a news helicopter go by overhead, he thinks about the people he left behind; mostly Hawkeye, Radar, and Klinger, maybe some of the other nurses. I don’t think he spares much of a thought for Frank or even Margaret. He doesn’t write because they don’t write, and he figures that means they just all understand. I think he also throws himself into being there for his daughters because he wishes he could be one of those people who knows and cares nothing about the war, and if he got to go home early (and make it home, too, unlike Henry), then he’s gonna make the most of it. And I think overall, he just gets on with his life. He doesn’t forget what happened there, but it doesn’t have any real power over him.

BJ - oh man, if I used culture shock when talking about Trapper, that would be too much an understatement to use for Beej. And it’s less the shock of seeing what life is like back in the States compared to Korea and more the shock of how he doesn’t just slot neatly back into place in Mill Valley. Erin’s in her terrible twos and Peg likes her job and doesn’t want to quit. He drinks now more than she cares for. He doesn’t really click anymore with their social circle of middle-to-upper-middle-class fellow WASPs. It’s rough. But, I also think he refuses to admit it’s rough, because to do that would be to shatter the coping mechanism he used the entire time he was overseas. So he grins and bears it. He waits through Erin’s tantrums and then holds her when she’s tires herself out, and eventually she’s used to him again. He and Peg work out some kind of schedule so she can keep some hours at her job once he finds work again at a hospital or practice, and he shelves whatever 50s patriarchal grumbles he has about it because if Peg’s happy then he’s just going to be happy, damnit. He struggles the most probably with the drinking and the friends thing. I think it really, crushingly hits him at some point that he’d never had a friend like Hawkeye before the war, and he will never have another friend like that again, and that the over 3000 miles that separates them might as well be the distance between home and Korea. I think he thinks about writing him all the time, but doesn’t know what to say, then uses the excuse of Christmas to send a card. When he gets one back, he can breathe easier. Whatever happens after that or how sustainable his new life is really depends on how you interpret BJ’s sexuality, so I’ll just leave it there.

Romantic:

Margaret - see my one solid romantic headcanon for Margaret is I don’t think she ever marries again. I don’t think she would want to open herself up to being hurt the way Donald hurt her, or the frustrating red tape of getting through a divorce. But I definitely think she keeps having relationships, some better than others. She’s passionate about every one of them for however long they last. She doesn’t carry a torch for Hawkeye or anything, but he’s the only one of her exes she really thinks much about, because they were friends more than they were exes.

Hawkeye - I also can’t see Hawkeye ever getting married. It’s just not something he’s interested in, and depending on the gender of the partner he’s with it wouldn’t be a possibility in their lifetime. I think he prefers to live in the moment, to feel good and make someone else feel good for a time, and that a “future together” rarely plays into it. When he’s with someone, they get the fullness of his devotion (with the caveat that his work as a surgeon is always going to come first), and when it’s over, it’s over and he doesn’t spend too much thought on it. If it ended amicably, he’d be fine with a casual hookup now and then if the other person was.

Friendship:

Klinger - This makes me sad to say, but I think it’s a pattern of Klinger’s life that he puts more into his friendships than he ever gets back, and that oftentimes he’s friends with people who end up being cruel to him. I want to hope that Soon-Lee helps him to realize this and that they find better friends once they’re stateside, but I think that’s probably me just wanting to make myself feel better more than it is realistic. Klinger’s nature is just always to be kind to others, even when they don’t deserve it.

Random:

Sidney - hmmm Sidney’s such a tricky puzzle to work out. I think you put it best that he’s more plot device than three-dimensional character. I think out of all the characters, the hardest part of adjusting to stateside life would not be the personal side of things but the professional. I think he’s so used to treating the sort of extreme trauma that comes from war that trying to switch gears to a civilian practice would be kind of jarring. But maybe he solves that problem by specializing in veterans’ cases for a while and eventually branches out more and more.

Thanks for sending, these were fun to think about!

[bala5]

Home Sweet Home

Mill Valley CA

[middleland]

Suspension Bridge, Youngstown, Ohio (Date Unknown) by Hope Moore

Via Flickr:

Description on back of card: SUSPENSION BRIDGE, Youngstown's favorite scenic bridge, located on the Valley Drive in the heart of beautiful Mill Creek Park, Youngstown, Ohio. Publisher: Wonday Film Service, Wilkinsburg, Pennsylvania Numbers on card: 311-D-3 | 57374 Estimated Date: 1950s Era: Chrome Era Condition: Great condition. Unposted. Buy this card Publisher Note: Thomas A. Dexter was the inventor of gang printing. His company printed a wide variety of postcard subjects as linens and photochromes in New York from 1934-1980. The photochromes printed by Dexter have the words "Genuine Natural Color" despite going through a variety of phases. The company's early photochromes went under the name "Dextone" and were often flat and somewhat dull in appearance. The company's optical blending techniques improved producing richer and more varied colors over time. The company merged with MWM Color Press in 1980 to become MWM Dexter, and they moved to Aurora, Missouri. Source: www.metropostcard.com/publishersd.html

[enchantedpixiesworld]

[danieleneandermancini]

ATTRAVERSO IL LiDAR, NUOVE AFFASCINANTI SCOPERTE SULL'INSEDIAMENTO DI BODBURY RING HILLFORT, INGHILTERRA OCCIDENTALE

ATTRAVERSO IL LiDAR, NUOVE AFFASCINANTI SCOPERTE SULL'INSEDIAMENTO DI BODBURY RING HILLFORT, INGHILTERRA OCCIDENTALE L'ausilio delle nuove tecnologie, come i sensori di rilevamento del LIDAR montati su aeromobili, hanno prodotto dati di scansione laser ad alta risoluzione che mostrano che Bodbury Ring Hillfort, sul lato nord della Carding Mill Valley, vicino a Church Stretton, nell'Inghilterra occidentale, era sei volte più grande di quanto si pensasse originariamente. Il progetto di ricerca è...

[ledenews]

Santorine: 'Everyone’s a Winner'

In just two days, we are going to receive some election results, both for the primary, and for our local elections. The media barrage will abruptly stop. Television and radio stations will stave off financial ruin for another two-year cycle, and the post office will not have a ridiculous number of “super jumbo” post cards to deliver. The folks who designed and printed those cards are thankful for the work; so are the paper mills who made the paper, and the printshop who printed them. I know postal service employees appreciate the overtime. Political candidates will have met the account manager for the billboard company, representatives from the broadcast stations, and editors and others from our local newspapers. The people who chose to run for political office will have met a lot of nice, like-minded people, they will have knocked on a lot of doors,  and be politely or otherwise told to “GET OFF MY PORCH!” They will huddle with family on Tuesday night when the results come in, the excitement building, and then elation or disappointment, but everyone involved in this process is a winner. Everyone. If you were seeking public office and you had a primary, you find out if the people think you ought to come back for another round in November. If this is THE election, you find out if you won. But you did already because you stood up. You did the right things. You grew thicker skin. You were a part of the economic engine for the valley in a very direct way. Win or lose at the ballot box, you won. You won because you know more people. You won because the more you speak in public, the better you speak in public. You won because you were part of the elective process that creates our government. What’s remarkable to me is the number of people who will come back for another “bite at the apple,” either because they didn’t prevail or because they want to seek higher office. Yes, it gets the endorphins going, but it’s also at least partially driven by service. We should all thank every one of the candidates for putting themselves out there. Each and every candidate took time from their families, from their hobbies, and from their work to run for political office. Without them, the process of our brand of democracy does not work. Invariably, there will be some troll, some “know it all” hiding behind a keyboard who will make insulting claims about the candidates who didn’t win at the ballot box. Those negative trolls wouldn’t have a thing to talk about if someone else didn’t step up, take a stand and run for office. Once again, the troll demonstrated they just don’t get it, and that they are still likely some kind of weirdo anyway. Remember candidates, without you, they have nothing. It’s amazing how contagious winning can be. When you see one or more of the candidates this Wednesday, thank them. I’m certain that they will be thanking you. If they won their election, congratulate them, and congratulate their family for supporting them through this process. Recognize that running for office made them just a little bit better than they were before. So, how about you the next time? Are you going to step up? There’s another election cycle in a couple of years. Are you and yours ready? Yes, it’s going to take time, sweat and money. Just like the carnival midway hawker inviting you to “STEP RIGHT UP!,” your contribution to service is open to you. There’s one thing for certain - everyone’s a winner.  Read the full article

[sandpiperresortgolf]

Sandpiper Golf Course

Address: 14282 Morris Valley Rd Harrison Mills, BC V0M 1L0

Phone: 604-796-1000

Email: info@sandpiperresort.ca

Website: https://sandpiperresort.ca/golf/

Nestled in centuries-old forest and surrounded by the West Coast’s idyllic landscape, Sandpiper Golf Course is a beautiful 18-hole golf course. Open 364 days a year, this par 72 course runs 6,500 yards from the back tees. Sandpiper is heralded as one of British Columbia’s best resort courses The course designer has highlighted the river and mountain vistas. While there are a number of outstanding holes, be sure to check out the signature hole where the footprint of the legendary Sasquatch guards the green. Sandpiper’s manicured layout and easy walkability combines brilliantly with the area’s rugged beauty…creating an unforgettable golfing experience. Come #PlaythePiper!

Keywords: Golf Course, Golf, Golf Resort

Hour: Monday-Sunday 6AM to 9PM

Year of Est.: 1998

No. Of Employees: 100+

Payment: Credit Cards, Cash

Social Media Links:

[greenthey]

Several chatty gods & ancestors by the water 2day

(lol I look like my aunt in this photo w her l look of slight consternation)

I started at a bench that said James so someone in my grandfather's line

The one that has been here since colonization

A relation to Robert Ingersoll, "the Great Agnostic"

Noah Ingersoll? Is trying to speak but doesn't really know how

Or his father, James-- duh

We have an etching of Noah who he looks like

Country lawyers, farmers, coroners

"These are times of change"

Looking out on the water

I wonder how u treated women

A wife & daughter he kept safe in good standing

Barrels of wine & fresh milled grain

The best he could do for them

I ask the daughter to come thru, she seems chattier

Hannah?

"My father was a great man"

Ok 🙄

No, he seems decent

As much as a a white dude could be at the time

Coroner -- I wonder if he visited the dying like I have and will again

And heard the last rattling breaths

She was named after her mother, Hannah 😌

Maybe she was the favorite

Cheerful go-getter who did a lot for her parents

She bids me to walk to the retaining wall & look at the water

Like she used to sit in her port city in Connecticut

Eating bread & cheese from a pack

I didn't eat breakfast bc I thought someplace downtown would be open

I forgot it was Easter 🙄🐣

But there is a tarot deck in my pack

What did he say of the changes, Hannah?

They fly like birds on white wings

We can't see them in the sky

We aren't meant to

Look away, at your own craft

Tho you can use the astrolabe to see

I am always being told to follow my own gold

The workings of the pocket watch in my sternum

Because the bird's eye view will not always make sense

A living woman in all purple just walked by and waved 😂

Was that anyone?

No, but Marti liked her purple coat

There are many ancestors who have been waiting to speak

The calls of the birds grow louder and louder

Until they are ready to be seen

Is there anything else to know? Water, water, water

We have lived in a Capricornian world all our lives

Aquarius is air but Her water is still pouring

Where will it flow?

The Moon on the bottom of the deck for the second day in a row

Owlish Odin (or someone) in a black tree

Purple galaxies behind him

Things we will see when our senses grow sharper

Lollll drawing cards while all the Easter Christians walk past

Three cards facing the wrong way in the deck

Waiting for the world to turn right-side up again

Two together and one alone

A dog, a spotted cat

And a bluejay, the bird's eye view

Cerridwen & Odin, two birds that like to meddle

I accept the mystery

& the valley that is a cauldron

As I walk my way down from the cold mountain

Queen of Swords is also my card for my aunt

I have wondered more than once if she worked with Cerridwen

"Getting to the core of the matter is easier from your vantage point. You're able to sift through the information presented to you and see where the truth lies. This higher perspective does not come from the energy of arrogance. It comes from your concise nature and ability to think clearly."

Maybe I will be allowed the bird's eye view when I am more firmly in my logical mind.

It is difficult with the energy of Aquarius.

And what of the Moon?

"The night is brisk and the moon glows bright casting mysterious shadows all around. You too cast shadows that may need illumination."

Two ducks swim past

Mallards

Their senses tell them where to go

For some reason I am bid not to show the cards

The Moon still holds secrets

Do not spoil the magic trick