#do we ever get holidays for The Eastern Kingdom

[sl33py-g4m3r]

deleted the sleep schedule complaining cause I've been complaining about it too much~~ based on the way things work with me tho I'll work my way back around eventually~~

sorry for complaining about it so much~~

thought of deleting the magnetite question post but that was for a bit of fun thinking and (hopefully) didn't show incompetence with a series I hold so dear~~

or the before bed (what do these skills do) post where I rant and looked them up anyway.... i deeply worry about coming off as stupid

I now worry I've ether revealed too much information or have made myself seem incompetent to some degree~~

now anxiety is gnawing at me trying to complete a stupid cycle I'm trapped in~~~ I'd often delete my blog cause I feel like I've revealed too much personal stuff~~ but I always come back after a while anyway, different username, same walpaper, theme, and icon... so realistically there's no point in nuking it~~~

I wonder if there are people at the monastery that get too distracted studying relics that they also lose track of time and do what i do? and are constantly backwards sleep schedule wise as a result?

of course anyone of any alignment could probably get their sleeping patterns weird; and to be honest it's probably tied more to morality than anything else tho..... begs the question, which alignment would be more likely to constantly flip flop their sleeping schedule?

I'm assuming the day/night cycle is normal in smt iv? in mikado at least perhaps.... Does Mikado have seasons? I'd like to see winter~~~ Lake Mikado frozen over~~~ snow and ice everywhere~~

if you hide in a pile of snow to scare someone what's the likelihood that you'll die? fun isn't worth death methinks~~

Would the samurai uniforms change for winter in that case? Or is it just one standard all purpose one?

I bet I’m so short that if I wore a coat, it would drag the ground… unless they’re fitted per person. Kinda doubt it tho. Cause it seems they get the outfits immediately after the gauntlet rite…

Now imagining that the town would be decked out for whatever holidays they celebrate in Mikado~~ but what holidays would that be? Christian ones? Do we ever get any info on things such as this?

Interesting ~~~

From an anxious rant; into ‘that would be neat if we got more elaboration on this’

Idk how my mind works am sorry~~~ least I’m not anxious in this moment anymore ~~ lol.

Samurai training in the middle of a blizzard? If they train in places on the surface and it’s not just excursion into naraku…

I’ve somehow fused the anxiety with ‘this’ll be neat’ and am not anxious anymore what happened here?

Idk what this post is am sorry, lol. Stuff lately has just been ‘stream of consciousness with updates’

[dittomander]

How does the education system in the Everrealm even work. Elena, Mateo and Naomi are not in school even though they are secondary school age. All we see is primary school for Isabel, the StF kids

I imagine the different Kingdoms have their own approaches to education, like how real world countries have different education systems. I'm assuming most of the kingdoms require primary education and have varying degrees of requirement for secondary education, with access to tertiary education for those that would need higher education in more specialized subjects.

Enchancia we know has Royal Prep and the village school for primary education, with the former being specifically for royals from a variety of kingdoms. The other kingdoms presumably have their own village schools as well for non-royal folks. Royal Prep and the village school have different curriculum, with RPA teaching magic and the village school teaching construction, as examples. Hexley Hall is a magic academy that seems to cover primary, secondary, and tertiary education for sorcerers considering Cedric says he studied there for 15 years. Other primary schools introduced in StF include the Junior Knights Academy and Westloch.

I don't think we really see any secondary school students in StF, but we do learn a little about secondary education, at least for the upper class, when the Royal Prep students get sent to pick a school to attend after RPA graduation in The Royal School Fair. Like Royal Prep, these schools don't seem to be restricted by kingdom. So at least in the "Eastern Hemisphere" EverRealm, royals seem to be educated together for primary school before being split up for more specialized secondary school.

I don't remember if its ever made clear how secondary education works for normal kids, nor how admission into Hexley Hall works as opposed to just going to a regular school. Considering StF is entirely focused on primary school aged kids, it makes sense that we wouldn't learn a whole lot about what happens afterward.

We learn even less about education in the "Western Hemisphere" EverRealm in Elena of Avalor, since unlike StF, EoA's focus isn't on the characters being in school. Royal education doesn't seem to be as centralized in Avalor as it is in Enchancia (& Enchancia's neighbors), since Isabel was being privately tutored in the castle before going to school. There also doesn't seem to be a specific school for royals, since when she does start attending school, she just goes to the regular school in the city. We also know Avalor has tertiary education in the form of the Science Academy, and there are presumably other specialist schools as well. Esteban mentions a "royal academy" when he says he's bringing in professional dancers for Naomi's birthday in My Fair Naomi, but this is never really elaborated on.

As to why we don't see the teens in school - I touched briefly on this in my magic in Avalor post, but my headcanon is that education in Avalor is only required through lower secondary education (through the end of 9th grade for Americans). This is based off the fact that upper secondary school was only made mandatory in Mexico in 2012. Elena presumably had private tutors growing up (seeing as Isabel canonically did), so we wouldn't see her going to school even if she was still studying. Mateo and Naomi, then, would've been upper secondary school-aged at the start of the show, so it's possible that they just dropped out once they got their jobs at the palace.

It might also be possible for them to just still be in school during the run of the show. We don't see every detail of their lives, and the school day in a lot of Latin America tends to be structured around the morning, with classes ending early so students can go home for lunch. They could be going to school in the morning and then heading to the palace in the afternoons, and the episodes where we see them hanging around at other hours are weekends or holidays. I mean, the show starts during summer break, so it wouldn't be an issue for a few months anyway.

[whencyclopedia]

We’re not responsible for the mistakes of our forebears; we’re responsible for fixing them

Every country has skeletons in its closet that some people would rather not talk about. Canada is currently shaken by the discovery of hundreds of literal skeletons of children in residential schools that used brutal methods to “Christianize” and “Westernize” First Nations children. Shockingly, the last residential school was only closed in 1996!

In the United States, the history of slavery has been brought to the forefront with this year’s celebration of Juneteenth and the government’s decision to make it a national holiday.

World History Encyclopedia now increasingly covers Early Modern history, in particular the early history of the United States, as well as the Spanish and Portuguese Empires. Inevitably, we have published an increasing number of articles on the Transatlantic Slave Trade and the realities of slavery in the New World. Unfortunately, we’ve also seen an increase of negative comments on social media, particularly when talking about slavery.

It would appear that some people feel offended when they are reminded of the history of slavery. Some of our readers attempt to relativize, question and generally diminish the importance of slavery. 

For example, we commonly read things along the lines of: “So many empires in history have used slaves, America is not unique!” I think we’ve all learnt in primary school that someone else’s wrongdoing does not justify our own. “But what about the Chinese and Irish, they were mistreated, too?” Of course they were mistreated, and recognizing slavery does not mean we cannot recognize other people’s plight, too. “African kingdoms provided the slaves, the Europeans didn’t steal them!” That’s absolutely true, yet when we talk about human trafficking today, we consider the buyers to be just as guilty as the sellers. 

Why is it that to some of our readers the horrors of slavery appear so offensive to their identity? Why would anyone want to minimize the impact of slavery? Let’s be fair, this is not a uniquely American phenomenon: Many Turks get enraged by mentioning the Armenian Genocide and French President Macron faced protests for recognizing (not apologizing) that France’s involvement in Algeria was problematic. All over the world there are people who see history as a threat to their nation… usually the same people who also like to use history to aggrandize their nation’s accomplishments.

I am surprised by this: Growing up in Germany, I have experienced how a horrific period in the past can resonate in the collective consciousness. However, I’ve never seen this horrible past as a stain on my personal or national identity, or something to hide. Quite the opposite, Germany has taken the horrors of Nazism, vowed to work globally to stop them from ever occurring again, and created a new and even more powerful national identity as “the good guys of Europe.” 

Some US commentators want us to believe that the recognition of current racial inequalities being caused by slavery is somehow anti-American. Others say: “My family had nothing to do with slavery, why should I feel responsible?” It is entirely true that we are not responsible for the mistakes our ancestors made. That does not mean we should ignore them, though.

For that same reason, we should also not hold historical grudges. I’ve personally talked to Middle Easterners who refer back to the crusades to justify their critique of the West, and Quebecers who hate Anglo-Canadians for the oppression of French culture in Canada’s history. The people alive today are not responsible for past atrocities, so why hold a grudge? We can do better.

All of us alive today are responsible for learning from history and working together to fix the mistakes of the past that still reverberate in the cultural, economic and political landscapes of the present. The true power of history is revealed when we use it to understand the current situation and apply these learnings to build a better future. That means facing historical horrors with honesty, examining how they still affect us today, and acting upon them constructively and with mutual respect.

Jan van der Crabben CEO, World History Encyclopedia

[azenkii]

Sokka/Suki/Zuko Brotp Headcanons

These three are a god-tier brotp and i'm here to prove it

100% that one friend group who does the stupidest, most impulsive shit but they’re also super nerdy at the same time?

Like they'll be left alone together and you can guarantee that by morning they'll have broken into several heavily guarded government buildings. But like,,they didn't even steal anything important? they just wanted to see if they could find bosco's birth records and figure out why he's a regular bear

The last time they got drunk together they woke up on the Beifongs' roof in librarian's robes with a fully labelled diagram of a nonbending submarine in front of them

Suki and zuko braid each other's hair and sokka got jealous that he couldn't join in so he grew out his hair until it was long enough to braid

Suki teaches zuko how to fight with kyoshi warrior fans and he's absolute shit at it

In return, he teaches her how to fight with dual broadswords and she is not shit at it, which zuko thinks is unfair

all three of them spar together, all the time

sokka’s the unofficial leader of the group

he’s almost always the one who suggests the dumb/smart ideas

suki and zuko are pretty much on the same wavelength as him when it comes to plans so whenever he suggests something it goes like

sokka: so you guys know the new ozai society? well i was thinking about the pipes under the city-

suki: that’s a great plan. dibs on scouting the eastern block, zuko can you-?

zuko, nodding: the night market? on it

no one else can ever eavesdrop on their conversations because they just don’t make sense

the story of their escape from the boiling rock becomes legendary and they make a game out of retelling it. every time someone asks about it they’ll add something new. eventually the story ends up involving a platypus bear named Mai II, Chit Sang’s identical twin, a rope made out of bedsheets and three separate riots

sokka and zuko thought for a solid year that suki didn’t really like drinking because she always ended up relatively sober whenever they went out. turns out she drinks more than both of them combined and she’s just really, really good at holding her liquor

the amount of decrees they’ve passed while drunk is honestly ridiculous. only half of these decrees were cancelled afterwards because the other half actually made sense

suki once genuinely threatened to throw hands with one of zuko’s ministers. her reasoning was ‘he kept making weird faces whenever sokka suggested anything’

sokka and suki once ganged up against zuko. they called it ‘nonbenders solidarity’

zuko retaliated by creating a super-secret best-buds-only handshake with toph and they did it in front of sokka and suki whenever they could. sokka and suki eventually went ‘okay OKAY we GET IT also can you please...teach us the handshake it looks really cool’ and zuko was like ‘hm. no i dont think i will’

he then proceeded to drive them insane by immediately teaching the handshake to everyone he knew. aang? knew it. katara? knew it. mai and ty lee? knew it. every single one of his ministers knew it. the kyoshi warriors knew it (and wouldn’t tell suki). hakoda knew it. iroh knew it. that random regular visitor to iroh’s tea shop knew it.

sokka and suki gave up on ever learning the handshake. exactly one (1) day later zuko and sokka were playing their own modified version of pai sho with suki watching them and then zuko just casually went ‘so now that you’ve given up do you want to learn the handshake’

sokka and suki went FERAL and suki flipped the board

sokka: HOW DID YOU KNOW WE GAVE UP

also sokka, exactly 0.02 seconds later: also yes please teach us the handshake sifu hotman

the handshake is the stupidest most needlessly-complicated thing in the world but they learn it anyway and they don’t stop using it for approximately a month

and oh did i not mention that they made their own version of pai sho? they call it die sho and it features 16 homemade tiles and a set of rules that only suki understands. one game can last anywhere from 2 minutes to 2 days

they once wrote a book together under the pseudonym Wang Kyo-Lee. The book was a 500-page rant about plant husbandry. it became a bestseller in the earth kingdom.

they also once did a role swap for a day. zuko dressed up as a kyoshi warrior/the fire lord’s elite guard (complete with makeup to hide his scar), sokka was acting fire lord, and suki was his water tribe ambassador. that was how they discovered that they worked together so much that their jobs were literally interchangeable

there are rumours that the three of them are involved in a poly relationship. when asked, none of them will give a definitive answer

sometimes they’ll just go on holiday to some random obscure place without telling anyone and come back four days later with a frog, three new swords, a crate of theatre props and a valuable compilation of historical accounts that’s been lost for over a century

the most memorable thing they ever brought back was druk, aka a literal dragon

out of the three of them, suki makes the best tea. however, she’s also the worst cook

sokka learnt how to knit and promptly made them matching scarves. the scarves were ugly af but suki and zuko wore them anyway

when zuko overworks himself sokka and suki will literally manhandle him away from his desk and into his chambers, all while lecturing him as he nods sleepily and dozes on his feet

when suki overworks herself sokka and zuko will bring her tea and wrap her in blankets until she eventually falls asleep

when sokka overworks himself suki and zuko will drag him out somewhere under the open air and just sit with him until he relaxes and falls asleep on one or both of them

they have a running joke where suki and zuko will, in the middle of a discussion, go ‘GODS you remind me of this one guy i met while i was travelling’ and then proceed to describe sokka until he realises they’re talking about him

they all have a very dark sarcastic sense of humour that can honestly be alarming to anyone who doesn’t know them. mai thinks it’s hilarious

suki knows how to juggle. she tries to teach sokka and zuko and they both fail miserably

sokka takes them ice-dodging. sokka (once again) earns the mark of the wise. suki earns the mark of the brave. zuko earns the mark of the trusted. 

(does zuko earning the mark of the trusted make him cry? perhaps)

hakoda takes one look at suki and zuko and immediately goes ‘oh ok youre my children now’

zuko can handle himself pretty well in the cold (breath of fire, remember?) but that doesn’t mean he likes it. sokka and suki constantly tease him about it whenever they visit the south pole

zuko once startled suki while she was sleeping and she accidentally chi blocked him. sokka laughed until he cried

they 100% have heated debates about super niche topics

anyway they’re all bffs who may or may not be dating each other send tweet

[jaeminlore]

Season’s Greetings | Mark

series timeline | playlist

summary: you’re the only constant in mark’s life, and he wants to keep it that way / as the seasons change, our love will not

words: 1.9k+

category: prince!mark, fashion advisor!reader, read seasons first to feel more emotions >:)

Sometime in the middle of the night, the fire went out, leaving nothing but stray embers atop the hearth. 

The morning chill of winter is biting, so you do your best to snuggle into the covers and absorb as much warmth as you can. Your blankets do little to fight off the chill that rushes through your veins, but you’re too cold to leave them. A shiver rakes down your spine, causing you to audibly whine in discomfort. You should get up and stoke the fire. Then you can fall back to sleep. It’s your day off anyway. You have all the time in the world to snuggle into the covers.

The door to your bedroom opens, and you hear the voice of your favorite person. “Love,” Mark says, voice slightly stern. “Are you trying to freeze yourself to death?”

“No,” you grumble, hugging yourself to try and preserve some warmth. “But it’s too cold to get out of bed.”

“It’s too cold to stay in bed without a fire going,” he scolds you, no real bite to his voice.

You slowly pry your eyes open and watch him kneel in front of the fire and start to stoke it. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

Mark scoffs fondly, shaking his head. “Only when I do things for you.”

“Is it my fault that the only times I feel particularly affectionate happen to fall on the exact times that you’re doing things for me?”

Small flames appear in the fireplace, and you let out a genuine whoop of joy. “Thank you, Mark.”

Mark makes his way over to you and sits on the bed, reaching down to brush your hair off of your neck. He’s wearing a blue sweater as opposed to his usual shirtless sleepwear. The cold must be getting to him to. “You’re welcome,” he says, eyes traveling across your face. “Can I stay here for a bit? I miss you.”

The way he says the words so openly, as if he isn’t right in front of you, makes your heart warm up even quicker than the fireplace does. “I’ve missed you, too. But I’m glad Donghyuck has been found. It’s been far too long.”

You reach up; brush your knuckles across Mark’s cheek. He leans into your touch and lets out a sad sigh. “It’s been a nightmare waiting for news. You should’ve seen him, Y/n. He’s taller and tanner and he looks worn. Like he’s been through things. And when I hugged him, he just burst into tears. And then I burst into tears, and the entire throne room was a flood hazard.”

“I know,” you say, chest squeezing at the painful thought of what could’ve happened to the Eastern Prince while he was away. “I think it’s going to be a bit emotional while things get back to normal.”

“You know it’ll never be the same, though. Not for Donghyuck.”

“No,” you agree. “But he’ll be okay.” The reassurance eases Mark into dropping his shoulders. “He needs space and a lot of time.”

Mark huffs. He’s frustrated and upset, which is completely understandable, but you wish he wouldn’t put so much on his own shoulders. He doesn’t have to carry the weight all by himself. Donghyuck is safe now, and Mark should be able to rest easy. Instead, he just seems more stressed.

“Come here.” You tug on his sleeve until he complies and sinks down onto your mattress. He lets you warm your arms around him. You press your nose into the crook of his neck and press a few chaste kisses against his chilly skin. “You’re doing your best.”

“What if it’s not good enough?” Mark asks. “What if I–“

“What if you’ve been the best friend to Donghyuck with the circumstance given? Mark, please let yourself rest. You can’t fix every problem by yourself. Donghyuck is safe tonight, okay?“ 

“Yeah.”

You smile at the relief in his voice, thankful to feel his shoulders release some of the tension they’ve been holding. “Yeah,” you agree, kissing his skin again. This time, behind his ear, and it causes a small sigh to escape his lips. “Rest now, okay? I’ll be here until you wake up.”

Mark finally allows himself the option of sinking himself into your hold. He falls asleep in less than ten minutes, and you fall shortly after, thankful that he’s receiving a time of respite.

-

You toss the last miniature sweater onto the pedestal and sigh. “Okay. Winter break starts now.”

“Aw,” Mark coos, picking up a small dress. “This is so tiny.”

“That’s because a baby will be wearing it, genius.”

Mark sticks his tongue out at you before folding the dress. He begins to fold all the clothes. “I’ll get these sent out to Yukhei tomorrow. The children at the orphanage are going to love these.”

“I know,” you whisper excitedly. “Ugh, I miss those two. I hope we can visit them soon.”

“I’m sure they’ll come visit after all of the holidays,” Mark comforts.

You slouch down, ignoring the way your fellow tailors giggle at you. “I want them to have a baby.”

Mark laughs. He leans forward and rubs your chin with the pad of his thumb. “I want us to have a baby.”

“Shut up,” you tell him. Your neck feels hot at Mark’s blunt confession, and you avoid the tailors, who are certainly eavesdropping by now. “We aren’t even married, Mark. Don’t you think that’s a bit scandalous?”

Mark opens his mouth, and you’re pretty sure you know what he’s going to say. He’s going to say that it isn’t like the two of you aren’t already “scandalous”. But the tailors don’t need to know that, and you certainly don’t care to have your personal life spread around the castle. 

You clamp your hand over his mouth. “You’re far too impulsive.”

“I’m careful,” Mark says. “I’ve been giving us a lot of thought lately and while I love you–“

“Mark, are you breaking up with me?”

“No!” Mark sighs in exasperation. Then, addressing the tailors, “Could you please leave us alone for a moment?”

When the door is shut, Mark grabs your hands. “I want a future for us, Y/n. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately, and I don’t know where this relationship is going right now. I want to know that we’re getting somewhere. That there’s a future.”

“Mark,” you cup the prince’s face, and you can feel his cheeks warm up beneath your touch. “There has always been a future. Just because we aren’t married and I’m not pregnant doesn’t mean it won’t happen, okay? We have a future, love, don’t worry.”

Mark sighs. He closes his eyes, and you like the way his entire face seems to relax. “Okay.”

-

Though the North Kingdom is always freezing, it’s only during wintertime that the lakes completely freeze over, and the people are able to go ice skating.

You’re a pro at it: always have been. Mark, however, is much like a fawn, struggling to keep upright on the ice.

You don’t mind, since it’s a chance to hold his hand.

Guiding Mark around the ice is easy. He trusts you completely (even when you skate backwards), and follows you down to the more risky part of the lake, where you like to skate.

“I can’t believe my wife is making me do this,” he says, wobbling on the ice.

“Wife?” You catch his slip up with a raised eyebrow. “Watch it, stud.”

Mark flounders, struggling with the decision to let go of your hands in embarrassment or stay and confess his sins. “I didn’t mean to.”

You pull him towards you. 

Mark grabs at your waist to regain his balance. “You’re teasing me.”

“I am,” you say. “Mark, you’ve been saying a lot of weird things lately.”

Mark’s ears are pink. “Yeah... I don’t know why that is... It must be the change in the weather.”

You lean forward and kiss him, smiling at the way he seems to melt into your hold. After your first night with him, it hasn’t taken long to figure out that Mark just wants attention and reassurance. Luckily, you’ve been practicing reassuring Mark since you were young, and giving him attention has never been too hard.

Mark’s fingers clench at the waist of your dress. “I really love you, that’s all,” he confesses.

“I love you more,” you whisper. 

-

“Catch me if you can!” You run away from Mark, yanking up the skirts of your dress as the two of you run through the snow.

It fell last night in sheets, freezing over the castle. While the staff was given the day off, and chose to stay warm indoors — where Mark’s father prepared a warm feast — the two of you leave it in favor of a good old fashioned snowball fight.

Mark has a snowball in his hand, but he won’t toss it. You know this because Mark worries a lot about hurting you, and he prefers to get close enough to just kind of... mush... the snowball into your back.

You love him dearly.

You run into the field, alerting a few wild caribou. “You can’t catch me- Oh!”

You trip over a root, hidden beneath a blanket of snow. You fall into the snow and turn onto your back, giggling at the way the snow seeps beneath your dress.

Mark catches up finally. He kneels beside you and mushes the snowball into your hair, laughing when you shiver in protest.

“Truce!” You shout, grabbing at Mark’s lapels and pulling him down with you.

Mark raises his hands. “Okay. Truce.”

The two of you stay in the snow. When you sit up, Mark leans in and kisses your forehead. “You know I love you, right?”

“You certainly won’t let me forget it,” you tease.

Mark rolls his eyes. “Listen... I know I’ve been talking about our futures lately. And I- I have a question for you.”

Your eyes twinkle. You know exactly what Mark is going to do. Partly because he’s not very secretive, and partly because you saw the box on his nightstand early this week.

Again, Mark has never been very subtle.

Mark pulls a black velvet box out of his pocket. He opens it, hands shaking, to reveal two rings. They’re silver bands with northern runes engraved into them. 

You can see the words he’s had engraved. “As the seasons change, our love will not.”

“Y/n, I want to marry you,” Mark says.

You hold you hand out, sniffing to hold back the tears. “Mark, just put the ring on my finger before I burst into tears!”

Mark giggles nervously; joyously. “Okay.”

He takes one of the rings and slips it onto your finger. Then he hands you the other one. “Can you-“

You grab the remaining ring and slip it onto his finger. “I would love to marry you, Mark.”

“Great,” Mark says, eyes bright. “Good, great. Wonderful. I’m so excited.”

You grab his shoulders and pull him close. You kiss him once, twice, a third time before he’s smiling so much that you can’t. “Stop smiling so I kiss you,” you say.

“I can’t,” Mark giggles. He cups your face and presses his forehead against yours. “I’m too happy.”

The snow chills your bones. “We should go inside,” you murmur. “It’s too cold out here.”

“I’m warm as long as I’m with you,” Mark says, then he grimaces at himself. “Was that too cheesy?”

You stand up and hold your hand out for him to take. “Just a little bit.”

[tess-grey-maned]

Prompt list eh? 👀 👀👀How bout some Thalyssra/Sylv with either the "I love you, but stop talking" or the marshmallow one above it

I HOPE YOU ARE PREPARED COS THIS FOOL DID BOTH

Here, have some Thalvanas, and thank you so much for your prompt @addicted-to-procrastination !! <3

   Thalyssra clatters through the door, dumps her keys in the bowl, throws her bag on the counter as usual and narrowly misses a neatly-iced cake.

 “I love you, but stop talking.”

[EDIT: taken references to police out of the fic. Author does not and will never support police brutality, especially racially motivated, in any of its forms. We're here for soft happy lesbians and that's it thank you.]

   “Fuck!” Rushing to steady it on its plastic stand, Thalyssra peers down at the delicate piping on the top. “I’m sorry? Sylvanas! Why is there an apology cake on the counter? I told you I didn’t care about the Thalassian soup incident, it was a terrible hob anyway and the dry cleaners did a great job on my… Sylv? Where are you?”

   No answer.

   “SYLVANAS WINDRUNNER! I’m being very serious now!”

   Her only answer is the gentle ticking of her grandmother’s leyline clock in the hallway.

   Sylvanas’s Doc Martens are still on the shoe rack. A sleepy bark betrays Dori as dozing in his favourite sunny spot in the living room. An elderly, tatty Eastern Kingdoms PI lanyard is dumped beside the blazer Thalyssra draped over her fiancée’s shoulders this morning.

  Why would she leave when everything is going so well-

   Why would she leave her beloved dog, why would she leave a cake of all things and not a note, Sylvanas loves being passive-aggressive with notes, come on Thalyssra get a grip-

   Is it because we argued about the wedding? About how long into the evening she works? Is she embarrassed that I earn more than her, has she- has she found someone else to go hunting in Eversong with and drink those hideous Thalassian herb cocktails with? Is it Jaina? Someone else as smart and determined as Sylvanas, someone else who talks about everything and nothing with her, like I do, until she’s four glasses of mana-wine down and she’s too tipsy to do anything other than fall on top of them and snuggle into them like she snuggles into me-

   “Thal?”

   Thalyssra looks up to a smirking Sylvanas, hair in disarray, teeth glinting in the evening sun.

   Slumps in relief until Sylvanas steps closer, and those sunbeams catch on the right eye ringed with bruising and the neatly-stitched laceration running through her lower lash line-

   “We got him. We got Menethil, Thalyssra, Lor’themar found his hard drive and a couple of phones dumped in the fireplace but the idiot forgot he’d got it backed up to his cloud and you know how smart Jaina is, she had his login details within seconds, Belore I nearly kissed her when she showed us all the files she’d found and we got him!” Thalyssra’s tugged forwards and into a frantic kiss but Sylvanas has dodged away before she can deepen it, grabbing a bulging folder off the dining table and holding it aloft like a trophy. “There’s proof of his links to Kel’thuzad, and Garrosh Hellscream, and it’s not just drugs he’s been distributing- though we found enough evidence afterwards up in his attic, Belore the smell alone, I might be a bit high- but Jaina found evidence that he’d been involved in trafficking people into Gilneas and now I have to talk to fucking Greymane of all the private investigators, and of course Daddy Menethil has been supplying him with phony bank accounts and funnelling his cut back through the Bank of Lordaeron and with him implicated too, we could be even closer to tracking Kel’thuzad’s movements through the Eastern Kingd-”

   She’s cut off by Thalyssra’s lips on hers.

   Sylvanas tastes sweet, like Thalassian tea, and Thalyssra wraps her arms around her and deepens the kiss. Hears a little murmur of appreciation as she presses in with her tongue. She smells of tulip perfume, and antiseptic, and the soft earthy warmth that has Thalyssra stealing her pillow on mornings when Sylvanas has to be in early, just for a few more breaths of her.

   She breaks the kiss to press their foreheads together, her one hand stroking down the nape of Sylvanas’s neck. Her heart is still pounding in her throat. “What is the cake for?” she murmurs.

   “The- Lor’themar said to get one. Thought that by the time I told you I ran after Menethil with no backup, you’d be too full of sugar to tear into me for it-”

   “You did what?”

   There’s a pause.

   “Shit,” Sylvanas mumbles. “I’m definitely a bit high.”

   Pushing her back, Thalyssra glares down at her. “Why would you do something so fucking stupid? And this is the result, no doubt.” She reaches up to caress Sylvanas’s bruised cheekbone with the pad of her thumb; Sylvanas flinches, unable to meet Thalyssra’s eyes. “Sylv, you’re smarter than that. You knew he was violent.”

   “Yes.” Finally, those hard eyes meet hers. “And the last time we went after him, he hurt Jaina. Nobody hurts my friend and walks away, Thalyssra. Nobody. I care nothing of how rich or entitled he is. Besides.” She bares her fangs in a smug grin, and lifts her bruised knuckles up. “I can be violent too.”

   “I know.” Thalyssra bends closer, stroking Sylvanas’s hair back to press a feather-light kiss to her eyebrow. Can’t help closing her eyes to breathe in that familiar scent. I thought I’d really lost you. “But I know you’re reckless when you’re angry. And from the looks of it… he knew that, too.”

   Sylvanas opens her mouth. Closes it. Looks away.

   Squeezing her arm, Thalyssra lets her go and walks round into the kitchen. “Go and sit on the sofa. I’ll bring you some ice for your eye. Put one of your awful Thalassian comedies on the TV and stay.”

   With me, forever and ever, she wants to say and doesn’t.

   But when she turns back round from the medical cabinet, Sylvanas is only a few steps behind her, now flanked by a lynx-hound intent on bathing her hands in kisses. “It was my hunch,” she announces, bending to scritch Dori behind the ears as he groans in delight. “I told Lor’themar he’d go to ground, and we knew that the property was a holiday home of sorts but it was me who connected it to Hellscream and do you know how I did that? By putting his friend Nazgrim under surveillance for two weeks and having Anya report directly to me every-”

   Thalyssra places a finger over that soft, full mouth. “I love you,” she murmurs against the shell of Sylvanas’s ear, and delights in the shiver that runs up and down her body. “But stop talking.” Hears Sylvanas draw in a sharp breath only for Thalyssra to swoop in and steal it with another kiss. “You don’t need to prove to me how clever you are. I’m not your minn’da. To the sofa with you.” And she gently takes hold of Sylvanas’s shoulders and guides her towards the sofa.

   “Fine,” Sylvanas mutters, and flops inelegantly onto the heaped cushions. “But I hope back to back episodes of Sunsail and Sex aren’t too mind-numbing for- ooftBelorehoundyouareheavy!”

   “Good boy, Dori!” Thalyssra sniggers as a pillow bounces off her side. “Bad girl, Sylvanas. Naughty. Naughty girl.”

   “Keep talking to me like that and I might find I’m no longer in the mood to show you just how naughty I can be.”

   “Nightwell save us from such a fate, Sylvanas.”

   The TV flashes into life, and Sylvanas laughs at Dori’s playful attempts to steal the remote control from her fingers. “Thal?”

   “Yes, dalah?”

   “Can you bring the cookies with you? I’ve got the munchies.”

 -0-0-

 Extra prompt:

 “You’re basically a marshmallow. Perfect for cuddling.”

   They lead the first dance.

   Thalyssra walks with her new wife to the dance floor and pulls her into her arms as the first few notes play. Sylvanas’s silken curls brush the back of her palm, in time with the rhythm they catch and start to sway to; her dress- Thalassian red, in spite of Lireesa’s protests- rustles like blades of grass against her legs. Her intricately embroidered sleeves prickle Thalyssra’s own unadorned arms.

   Thalyssra revels in the sight of her, so majestic and beautiful, and delights in the splay of her fingers against the warm, soft skin of Sylvanas’s exposed back.

   It is a simple Thalassian waltz. Lirath, perched on the stage beside the microphone, plays with tears in his eyes.

   “Was it what you thought it would be?” Sylvanas murmurs. Her voice is low. Her eyes never leave Thalyssra’s. “The ceremony.”

   “More or less, though you were far more gorgeous than I dared hope.” But the smile she was hoping for doesn’t come. “Was it what you thought?”

   Sylvanas does look away then. Her fingers toy with the zip of Thalyssra’s gown.

   “Later, you impatient wretch. Come on. Out with it.” Thalyssra reaches up to tickle her fingertips along that strong jawline. “Was it my gown? I know you’re none too fond of dusk purple. Or did one of my cousins make some stupid comment-”

   “I thought I was supposed to feel some rush of emotion,” Sylvanas blurts out. Her muscles stiffen beneath Thalyssra’s hands. “Some overwhelming- love, or possessiveness, or pride, or- and instead I felt… relieved. That it would soon be over, and we could slip out of the spotlight. That I could just have you to myself.”

   “You weren’t supposed to feel anything.” Thalyssra bends to press a kiss to her forehead. There are other couples venturing onto the floor now, Alleria with her girlfriend Alexstrasza, Ly’leth and Margaux swaying off-beat with their gazes fixed on one another. “There is no one way to marry me. As for some great flurry of emotion- I need no fancy declaration to know you love me.”

   “Do you not?”

   Thalyssra turns them, to shield Sylvanas’s face from the crowd. She won’t let them see her vulnerable. No-one but Thalyssra may see Sylvanas doubting herself. “You tell me you love me when you bring me coffee in the morning before you go to work. When you come racing home through the rush hour traffic because you promised to make dinner tonight. When you hide tickets to Suramar theatre plays in my nightstand and when you worship my every inch in bed. I don’t need you to break down and profess your undying devotion, you know.” She strokes her fingers down Sylvanas’s collarbone and presses them to the crimson fabric over her heart. “I know it’s there. And here.”

   And she reaches down to squeeze Sylvanas’s butt.

   “Stop molesting my poor innocent sister!” Alleria yells from within Alexstrasza’s arms. Sylvanas snorts with laughter, arching an elegant brow. “She’s so sweet and pure!”

   Lirath cackles into his pipes. “Is she Helheim!” he calls down. “About as innocent as you are!”

   Laughter rings out across the room, but it’s Sylvanas’s little chuckle that sounds the sweetest in Thalyssra’s ears, as her new wife rests her head on Thalyssra’s shoulder and closes her eyes.

   The last notes of the waltz fade away. Lirath bows quickly, blowing Rommath a kiss from across the room as he hops down amidst the scattered applause and scoots off towards the buffet.

   “You know, I didn’t feel that rush either, as we stood at the altar,” Thalyssra murmurs as Lirath’s album starts to play over the speakers. “That rush you speak of. But you know when I did? I felt it two days ago, when I cut myself on the vegetable peeler and you had a band-aid on it before I had even finished whinging.” She reaches up to stroke Sylvanas’s cheekbone with the still-tender tip of her index finger. “I looked at you, bent over my hand with your whole face scrunched up in concentration, dabbing that antiseptic as though it were a matter of life and death. And I thought, by the Nightwell, I’m marrying this woman.”

   Sylvanas doesn’t move, but Thalyssra can feel her lips curl into a smile against the tender skin of her neck.

   They stay there, arms round one another, watching in silence as Belore creeps below the horizon and bathes the sky in swathes of pink and red.

   “I would go and get some food from the buffet,” Thalyssra mumbles into Sylvanas’s hair, absent-mindedly fiddling with the hook fastening at the nape of her new wife’s neck. Her new wife. “But I can’t seem to entertain the thought of letting go of you.”

   “Mmn, so don’t.” Sylvanas’s eyes catch the red of the sunset when they open and look up into hers. “There will be food in Eversong.”

   “You’d better not go feral hunter on me. Not out of the bedroom, anyway.”

   “It’s a tent. There is only bedroom.”

   “My point still stands. Come now, my marshmallow. You haven’t eaten eith-”

   “What,” Sylvanas growls, shoving half-heartedly at Thalyssra’s chest, “did you just call me?”

   “I worry you might grow tired of cherry pie. And you are basically a marshmallow.” Thalyssra meets Sylvanas’s mock outrage with a soft, indulgent smile. “Perfect for cuddling.” And she kisses the faux scowl off her new wife’s mouth.

   My new wife.

   “We’re not cuddling,” Sylvanas mutters against her mouth the moment they break the kiss. “This is an embrace. It is not a cuddle.”

   “Whatever you say. My marshmallow.”

   “O Belore.” Sylvanas sighs, long and melodramatic, and Thalyssra swallows back the laughter building in her chest. “Would that I had brought the divorce papers with me today.”

   Chuckling, Thalyssra tips Sylvanas’s head up, and kisses her again.

[yourboatholiday]

Have you ever heard of the Peloponnese? Discover this mythical Greek region on your next charter boat trip!

Still, not a very popular tourist destination, if compared to the many and famous archipelagos and islands of the Aegean Sea, the Peloponnese is a fascinating region of Greece rich in history, nature, and enchanting beaches still off the beaten track from the main tourist routes.

In the middle of its territory made up of mountains and rugged and verdant valleys are some of the most important archaeological sites in Europe, declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site, remains and testimonies of ancient civilizations such as Olympia, the birthplace of the Olympic Games; Mycenae, Argos and Sparta, an ancient rival of Athens.

Thanks to its geographic conformation, the Peloponnese is particularly suitable to be visited on a boat trip. It is in fact easily accessible and well connected to Athens, the Greek capital, and offers, along the coast, seaside resorts and towns perched overlooking the sea where to take refuge for the night.

CONTACT US FOR YOUR CHARTER IN THE PELOPONNESE

Where is the Peloponnese located?

The Peloponnese region constitutes a large part of mainland Greece and ideally separates the two main seas that bathe the Greek coasts, the Aegean Sea to the southeast and the Ionian Sea to the west.

In fact, it occupies the southern part of Greece and constitutes a large region that brings together several provinces such as Arcadia, Argolis, Corinthia, Messenia, and Laconia.

Island or peninsula?

Peloponnese literally means “island of Pesopo” in ancient Greek even if formally it is a peninsula connected to the continent through the narrow isthmus located near the city of Corinth, in the northeast.

However, since 1983, we can define this region as an island. In fact, in that year the Corinth Canal was inaugurated, an engineering work of considerable importance that allowed to open a maritime connection between the north-eastern and south-eastern part of the Peloponnese, saving over 200 kilometers of navigation and making the region an island in all respects.

How to reach this location?

The region is well connected with all the main Greek ports and airports. In the case of a boat trip, the most convenient solution to reach the Peloponnese is certainly to land at Athens International Airport and then set sail from one of the numerous marinas in the surrounding area, heading west and crossing the Saronic Islands archipelago.

Equally interesting alternatives may be to reach one of the Cyclades archipelago islands such as Mykonos or Santorini and then take a tour back to the Peloponnese or also set sail from the Ionian island of Zakynthos and then “dive” along with the coast sailing to the southeast.

Top places not to be missed during a boat itinerary in the Peloponnese

Numerous reasons make the Peloponnese a place of international interest and they are all linked to its millenary history. It is almost impossible to visit all the archaeological and cultural wonders that this land has to offer in a single holiday unless you have a lot of time at your disposal.

As we said earlier, the Peloponnese coasts hide some jewels including some less frequented but absolutely beautiful beaches.

Here is a list of just some of the main attractions that can be found wandering the length and breadth of the Peloponnese or, as in our case, circumnavigating its coasts:

Olympia

A must for tourists visiting the Peloponnese is Olympia, the ancient city-sanctuary famous all over the world for being the place where the first Olympic Games in history, dedicated to Zeus, were held, and where even today, after more than 4000 years, the Olympic torch is lit which gives way to modern sports competitions. Ancient Olympia is undoubtedly the most famous tourist resort in the Peloponnese as well as one of the most important archaeological sites in all of Greece.

Mycenae

This mythical city was the capital of the Agamemnon kingdom, one of the most powerful kings of ancient Greece. The famous Lions Gate, dating back to 1300 BC, opens along with an impressive system of fortifications that reaches 8 meters thick. Inside, the extraordinary ruins of the citadel await you, the Treasury of Atreus, the tomb of Agamemnon, and his famous funerary mask, one of the most famous finds of antiquity.

The Theater of Epidaurus

A few kilometers from Mycenae is the city of Epidaurus, which owes its tourist fame to the splendid theater dating back to the fourth century BC, one of the best-preserved ancient theaters in Europe still used today for shows and events. The theater is known for its flawless acoustics.

Argon

founded thousands of years ago, it is probably the oldest city in Greece. The ancient ruins are now camouflaged in the modern city, but it is worth a visit for its interesting archaeological museum, for the medieval fortress overlooking the Larissa hill, and of course for the archaeological remains.

Nafplio

the elegant city of Nafplio occupies an extraordinary position in the Gulf of Argolis. A very important port of Greece since the Bronze Age, it was the country’s first capital after independence in 1833. Its elegant historic center, with its typical narrow streets, abounds with Venetian palaces, neoclassical residences, boutiques, and cafes;

Monemvasia

One of the wonders of the Peloponnese is Monemvasia, an enchanting medieval village that stands on a rocky tower overlooking the sea whose shape resembles an iceberg and is connected to the mainland by a causeway. In Kastro, the center of the fortified citadel, only a handful of people reside and it is possible to enter only on foot to fully enjoy the charm of a maze of narrow streets and stone houses, with extraordinary panoramic views of the sea.

Kalamata

Capital of Messenia, the region south-west of the Peloponnese, Kalamata is not yet included in the itineraries of mass tourism but it is a lovely place to be discovered. Inserted in a truly evocative natural setting, between a large gulf and the Taygetos mountains behind it, Kalamata has a characteristic historic center with a lovely promenade, a couple of interesting museums, a medieval fortress and beautiful beaches in the surrounding area.

The Mani peninsula

For those who prefer a holiday dedicated to nature rather than cultural and historical itineraries, we recommend the Mani Peninsula, which can boast some of the most varied and breathtaking landscapes of the Peloponnese. Your holiday will be divided between suggestive paths in the woods in the mountains, pristine beaches bathed by crystal clear waters, villages surrounded by olive trees and the arid landscape in the south of the peninsula, with its abandoned stone towers.

Voidokilia beach

Considered the most beautiful beach in the Peloponnese and one of the most beautiful in the world according to the Times, the wild Voidokilia is a narrow crescent-shaped strip of fine sand in a bay sheltered from the open sea. The waters are very transparent, the nearest urban settlement (Pylos) is far away and there are no kiosks or taverns: in short, a paradise!

Elafonissos and the Simos beach

The Peloponnese also has its islands and among these the most famous is the enchanting island of Elafonissos. This small island of 20 sq km is a natural paradise with white beaches and turquoise sea, generally uncrowded, which will make you believe you have landed in the Caribbean. If you have time for only one of the beaches of Elafonissos, the obligatory choice is Simos Beach, considered one of the most beautiful beaches not only in the Peloponnese but in all of Greece.

What are you waiting for?

At Your Boat Holiday, we specialize in preparing and managing itineraries tailored to our customer’s requests and preferences. 

For any information regarding this or another possible itinerary, do not hesitate to contact us! We will be happy to answer all your questions.

Contact  now YBH Charter Brokers:

You can contact us by sending an email at ask@yourboatholiday.com or by phone, calling +39 33436 00997, available also on WhatsApp for both calls and texting.

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[redandpointy]

How do you think Kalec and Jaina would spend love is in the air together

"Get yer chocolates and yer roses! Step right up folks! You there! You look like you have a sweetheart at home! Strapping young adventurer like yourself! You! You have a sweetie? I knew it! You have a gift for this most important spending holiday? You don't! Well friend, I have got your back. Step right up! Roses and delectable sweets to charm any significant other! Sparkly gems? We got em! The fragrances and treats to delight the senses!"

The goblin leaned down on his box and grinned conspiratorially. "And for those spicer evenings, Northrend's finest assortment of captivating lingerie!" He winked and one of the gnome girls in the crow tittered, her cheeks turning bright pink. Standing up the goblin salesman addressed the crowd. "Buy it for yourself! Buy it for your sweetie! We've got it all!"

The goblins behind him wearing, inexplicably, a diaper and an enchanted pair of wings, sighed. One threw a small rocket into the air where it burst into the shape of a heart. The other, rolling his eyes, shot the fake arrow from his bow. As the heart-tipped arrow was tethered to the bow, it didn't shoot very far. Not that it had much power behind the pull. The short lived flight was as anemic as the goblin's enthusiasm for peddling the almost uniformly colored wares.

"You! Sir! You look like you have a loved one!"

It took Kalec a moment to realize the goblin salesman was speaking to him. Kalec blinked at the broad, gold-capped smile.

"Handsome lad like yourself, I bet you have to beat 'em off with a stick!" The goblin said, chuckling for some reason. It had to be some sort of idiom Kalec didn't understand. Perhaps the joke didn't translate into common well.

"Er-"

"Archmage Kalec is dating Lady Proudmoore," one of the girls perusing the goblin's wares spoke up. She was one of his students, Margery Crawford.

"Ohh, well then! He certainly should have only the very best gift for the grand magus!" The goblin salesman said, snapping his fingers.

A third assistant seemed to materialize at his side. This goblin was dressed in an extremely revealing pink dress. She had a box of chocolates in one hand, her arm draped with necklaces and bracelets of obviously varying quality, each with a price tag. In her other arm she had a bouquet of roses and a flimsy kerchief on a hanger.

"After all, the Lady has been so very kind in letting us set up this little popup boutique!" He took the box of chocolates form the assistant who reached back and produced another handful of gem-encrusted jewelry.   The goblin wagged his eyebrows at Kalec. "Something for her," he said, the smile a glinting leer.

"And maybe a little somethin' for you," the goblin woman said, winking saucily as she brought the kerchief to drape over her front. The sheer pink fabric concealed nothing.

Which... was perhaps the point since Kalec belatedly realized it wasn't a silk scarf after all.

"Uh-"

"You better have something," Margery said, hands on her hips. Beside her, her friends nodded in extreme, unified, female disapproval.

"My Da' forgot one year," a dwarf girl Kalec didn't know said. "He slept on the couch for weeks. She never lets him forget."

The others nodded in apparent agreement with the punishment.

"It's my dads' anniversary so papa Ben won't ever forget," another boy from class said. "Light help him if he forgets that."

"So what'll it be? Some pretty gems? Some flowers? Chocolates? All of the above?" The Goblin shopkeeper said, sliding into view between Kalec and the teens.

"I think I will have to make appropriate plans," Kalec said, frowning thoughtfully. "Good day." He turned, leaving the sputtering goblin in his wake.

Kalec considered his options. Dead flowers seemed silly on top of an already apparently arbitrary and nonsensical holiday. When had this become a holiday anyway? Shaking his head, Kalec went in the direction of the sweet shop to acquire sweets he knew Jaina liked. Kalec liked them too, but he was apparently supposed to give Jaina something she liked.

Was she supposed to give him something too? Putting the thought aside, Kalec entered the sweetly smelling mouth of utter hell.

Packages flew through the air as they were assembled rapidfire by a pair of mages. Orders were being called out and filled. Gold exchanged hands. Sugar, butter and flour were blended with chocolates. Some were blended with rum or other spirits. The confectioners and bakers in the back of the shop were partaking from their own stock of alcohol as they worked at a fever pitch.

Stunned by the sensory onslaught, Kalec found himself shuffled into a steadily moving but very long line.

This holiday was madness.

Finally Kalec was at the front. A very harried high elf leaned against the counter. "Please tell me you were a pre-order," she said before she looked up.

"Er- No?"

The woman's eyes closed in agony and Kalec was quite concerned before she straightened with a fixed smile and a slightly magic look in her eye. "What would you like? Hopefully we have some in stock or you'll need to return later. Or try another shop. Or perhaps place an order for next year's holiday so it won't be forgotten in the future. How might I help?" The corner of her mouth ticked.

Kalec requested some of Jaina's favorites; Chocolate caramels with sea-salt, chocolate covered cherries and some chocolate covered pretzels. The cherries were backordered so Kalec left with the other two items. They were all placed in an ornate, pink, heart-shaped box before Kalec could ask why. Kalec paid and accepted the box and was quickly shuffled out of line with a loud "NEXT!"

Kalec was practically shoved out into the street by the press of bodies inside. Outside, the line to get into the store was now winding down the street. The people in line looked covetously at his box and Kalec held it a bit closer then hurried off.

Sheer insanity.

Kalec beat a hasty retreat then decided that perhaps the treats were best left at home. He made a short detour and stowed his gift in the cold box before snooping around Jaina's workbench.

Dead plants were a silly idea. If the purpose was to give a gift (and why would another be required so shortly after a holiday entirely about giving gifts?!) then he'd give Jaina something she'd like. She might like flowers? They appeared traditional. Maybe he would give her a living plant? Kalec considered his options then, checking the clock, decided to brave the streets again and acquire one or two things before Jaina returned home.

Then maybe she could give him some context.

Three shops later and it appeared as though every single rose in the entire city had been sacrificed on the altar of this bizarre goblin holiday everyone appeared to celebrate. However Kuhuine had suggested that he might have better luck with a nursery in Kalimdor or the Eastern kingdoms and failing that finding something and digging it up.

Kalec left her shop and, feeling determined to do this odd holiday right, placed an order to be delivered to his home. Then he left Dalaran entirely.

It took three hours to find what he was looking for. Then, because he was in the area, he reinforced the wards around Azsuna and stayed for a quick chat with the dragons there. The whelps were a delight as always and his cargo turned into an impromptu botany lesson before he had to leave again.

Lifting the crate by the door with a quick levitation, Kalec brought it inside. He decided to set the crate down in the workshop and then, after some thought, he conjured a garish pink bow. It looked odd on the rough wood, but he'd not seen wrapping as in Winter Veil - but there had been plenty of garish pink bows.

Kalec set the little flower down on the kitchen table by the window then went about making dinner.

Jaina arrived home after a long day. She set her staff aside and rolled her shoulders. Slipping out of her shoes she summoned her slippers. The house smelled wonderful.

"I'm home!" she called out, heading for the kitchen.

"In here," Kalec called. He met her at the kitchen doorway with a hug and a kiss. Jaina sighed and relaxed against his chest. "Long day?" he asked.

Jaina grunted an answer. "Better now." She squeezed her arms around his waist. "How was your day?"

"Interesting. I apologize for the hasty nature of my gifting, but I was unaware of the holiday until earlier."

Jaina looked up, confused. Holiday? Kalec was gently taking her elbow and escorting her to the kitchen table. She was seated in her usual chair - and there was a rush of warmth as she realized she had a usual chair and so did he - and a plant was placed before her.

It was captivating. Jaina had never seen one before outside of some sketches in books. The crude renderings of charcoal and pencil did not do the plant justice.

The plant's stem and the base of the leaves were the deep purple of twilight. The edges faded into a soft off-white color. The center of the flower was the same deep purple but the leaves... The leavers were each a delicate, translucent, glowing blue. Small sparkles rose from the flower then faded from view, an intricate exchange of magic between the flower and the ambient aether on Azeroth.

"Is- Kalec is that a Starlight rose?"

He nodded, grinning. "I'm supposed to give you roses, but please do not be offended when I say I thought gifting a dead plan seemed... silly? However apparently all the roses in Azeroth have been claimed for bouquets so I couldn't even get you red one. But then I remembered these and I thought you might think it was just as pretty-"]

"Kalec, there hasn't been one of these in Dalaran in centuries. The last blooms were cultivated by the Highborne mages in Darnassus and they died." Jaina reached out to touch the flower but stopped herself. "I've never seen one. Antonidas had drawings in his alchemy books."

Kalec sat across from her. "You're kidding. You're not kidding."

Jaina looked up from the impossibly beautiful flower. "The blue flight cultivates these?"

He shrugged. "We have a few in, uh, well the equivalent would be window gardens? Along with dreamleaf and aetheril and other such plants. We're not natural gardeners like the greens are. But this one I just found. They're not very difficult to find if you know the right sort of spell."

Jaina set both hands on the table. "You- You know where to find these in the wild."

"Jaina, they're all over suramar. You can find them in some places in Azsuna, too." He tilted his head in question.

Jaina rubbed her hands over her face then parted her fingers so she could watch the gentle shimmer and glow of the plant.

"By your reaction I take it this is like the leywater issue."

"This is exactly like the leywater issue," she said.

Kalec breathed out, relaxing. He smiled. "Well that's alright then. I was afraid I'd botched the holiday."

Jaina shook her head and reached out to take his hand. "Love, what holiday?"

Kalec's eyebrows rose. "The odd goblin one. It makes no sense but the whole planet is apparently mad for it."

"The gobli- Oh!"

Kalec smiled. He rose and retrieved a pink, heart-shaped box. "It seemed that chocolates and flowers were key components as well as some gift of some sort? Apparently failure to remember the holiday results in sleeping on the couch and as nice as the new couch is, I much before bed."

Jaina opened the box and was delighted to find some of her favorites.

Kalec continued to explain as he took his seat again. "I thought you might like those better than the chocolates the goblins were selling. And a live plant. It just needs a little bit of water, a little bit of sun and access to a lot of mana in the aether and it should be fine. Oh, and I got you that new Aetheric monitor you wanted."

Jaina blinked then grinned. "You what?"

Kalec smiled back. "I thought you'd like it better than some of the other things they were telling me I should get."

Jaina grinned harder. Her cheeks hurt. Laughter bubbled up but she held it down, putting a hand over her mouth. Her beloved was utterly adorable and thoughtful and clearly had no idea what was actually going on, but was gamely trying to please her. His bright smile faltered and she grabbed for his hands, tugging him out of his seat as she rose. She leaned up on her toes and kissed him properly, one arm around his waist the other holding the side of his head.

"I did it right?" he asked.

A giggle escaped anyway as his expression made her heart do little flying loops. "Love, this is a wonderful surprise and I am very thankful and very touched. I love the gifts. These are the best gifts I've ever gotten for this holiday."

"I hear a 'but' coming," he said, concerned but not so very upset she thought.

Jaina laughed and nodded. She shook her head and sighed. "The goblins commercialized a small holiday that started, oh, I don't even know. In one of the human kingdoms. Some say Arathor even." She held his upper arms and tried to look serious, fighting the impish smile for now. "There's too much snow to go out most days and after Winter Veil there isn't much to do... Except each other." She shrugged a shoulder. "It's a holiday about sex because people were bored and cooped up in their homes. The goblins go ahole of it and, well, sex sells."

Kalec blinked. "This is a courting ritual?"

"No. Well. It can be." She squeezed his arms. "But the point is, it's not a big deal like  Winter Veil is. I'd completely forgotten what day it was. And the actual holiday isn't until tomorrow anyway." She leaned up and kissed him. "Thank you. This is a wonderful and thoughtful surprise. You didn't miss something important because I've never really deemed this important." She wrapped her arms around his waist. "I'm still gonna eat those chocolates."

Kalec chuckled and stroked his fingers through her hair. "I feel a bit embarrassed."

"Don't," she said, squeezing him close. "I should have mentioned something. That's my fault." She looked up at him. "You really got me an Aetheric monitor, too?"

"It's in the lab." A timer chimed and she reluctantly let him go to handle dinner. "We can uncrate it after dinner," Kalec said.

"We can," Jaina said. She waited until he'd removed the roast then backed him up against the counter. "Or we can indulge in some of the other traditional holiday activities."

It took him half a second, but Kalec caught on quickly now he had a better idea of what was going on. "I thought you didn't celebrate this holiday."

She  bit her lower lip as she smiled up at him. "You've done a remarkable job of convincing me otherwise."

Kalec looked at the roast then back at Jaina. "Dinner can wait?"

Jaina cast a stasis spell over the roast. "Dinner can wait."

[oasissafariegy]

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Saturday 26th December 2020

Boxing Day

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A ‘Bank Holiday’ in the UK or what the rest of the world calls a ‘public’ holiday.

The name comes from a time when the rich used to box up gifts to give to the poor. Boxing Day was traditionally a day off for servants, and the day when they received a special Christmas box from their masters. The servants would also go home on Boxing Day to give Christmas boxes to their families

BBC

A bank holiday is a national public holiday in the United Kingdom and the Crown dependencies. The term refers to all public holidays in the United Kingdom be they set out in statute, declared by royal proclamation or held by convention under common law

Wikipedia

Under normal PP (pre-pandemic) life we’d have family with us today again and be hosting the traditional, dare I even say it ‘Legendary’ Boxing Day Buffet. It’s a sad fact that now me and Papa Crow are the family elders and so we like our annual rituals. I think the girls do too, well certainly Ms NW tE does and the Retro Boxing Day Buffet really stakes its place. Not simply the standard annual Buffet of our childhood, but jazzed up for this Millennium. No soggy vol-au-vents with cold, tinned creamy chicken here thank you very much. One year we went off piste with a British favourite and it was a Curry Buffet - that went down very well indeed. Not happening this year for obvious reasons, so instead I’m recording the most beautiful flowers that came in time for Christmas from Ms NW tE. The delivery came around 7pm-ish and the knock at the door literally shook the house - the courier must have been keen to make himself heard above the carols that we had belting out. The sweet thought actually made me cry and even brought a mistiness to Crow’s eyes too. I arranged them in my late Granny’s vase, which is just a perfect match in size and colours.

Ms NW tE you really must stop making me crumble!

Flowers moved to the kitchen for better lighting. Photo shifted off centre so the Hare and the Cow got in the act

Right. Gathering self together because that won’t do at all. How about this? Nothing for you on the TV? bored? Try This Quiz

For full disclosure I came out as a Blackbird and confusingly, Crow is a Wood Pigeon. Coo, who kneeew.

Beautiful female Blackbird - photo credit to the August monthly mail out from Feathers Wild Bird Care, Salehurst

Wood Pigeon after emptying the bird bath on Wednesday in our own garden

I thought I’d share Crow’s favourite decoration. I remember buying it in Peter Jones, Sloane Square - how posh! It was many, many moons ago: expensive at the time but it’ll never wear out or get shabby and we both love it. I usually know which box it’s hidden away in as it’s always the heaviest.

We particularly how it takes on the hues and reflections of its background. I think if Father Christmas ever got his hands on it, it’d be a Dancer or Prancer. What do you reckon?

I hadn’t realised how many of our decorations are nature themed.

In outside news from the natural world

If you were disappointed in our night sky viewing this week. Here’s some news.

A newly discovered comet was spotted flying 2.7 million miles from the sun during last week's solar eclipse before disintegrating into dust particles from the intense radiation.

The comet was part of the Kreutz Sungrazer family, which originated from a large parent comet that broke into smaller fragments thousands of years ago.

The comet was discovered by Thai amateur astronomer Worachate Boonplod on the NASA-funded Sungrazer Project.

* and yes, I have searched his name and he is real

This organization is a citizen science project that invites anyone to search for and discover new comets in images from the joint European Space Agency (ESA) and NASA Solar and Heliospheric Observatory (SOHO)

When the comet was first discovered, Boonplod anticipated it would streak across the sky during the solar eclipse and that it would appear as a small speck in photos – and he was right.

On December 14, the comet was a tiny bright dot in images of the solar eclipse.

Experts say it was traveling roughly 450,000 miles per hour and measured around 50 feet in diameter.

However, the comet disintegrated to dust particles due to intense solar radiation, a few hours before reaching its closest point to the Sun. Still at least he got a record of it.

NOTES FROM THE KITCHEN:

I haven’t tried it myself and we didn’t have turkey here but I guess This leftovers Recipe is adaptable for whatever you might have.

Wherever you are, I hope you’ve been good this year and he came and brought you something nice.

Christmas Decoration from the Standen Courtyard Christmas Tree

A jolly Snowman. I love his Carrot nose and ‘coal’ mouth. No snow here for Christmas but there have been reports from ‘Oop North’ (and in Eastern parts too)

Christmas Carol of Choice Today From Ars Nova, Copenhagen

‘Ding Dong Merrily on High’

I think this is the most beautiful arrangement I’ve heard of this carol.

From our house to yours at Christmas a roaring Christmastime log fire.

Photo taken at low light with phone camera 

[aion-rsa]

Scary Christmas Stories: A History of the Holiday’s Ghostly Tradition

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“It always is Christmas Eve, in a ghost story” – Jerome K. Jerome, 1891

In the English countryside, dinner had ended, and the company retired to the drawing room. They gathered around the fire as the parson, who sat in a high-backed oak chair, proceeded to tell of goblins and ghosts. The squire, not a superstitious man himself, listened intently  as the parson spoke about the crusader who rose from his tomb for a nighttime ride. The old porter’s wife added to the tale with her own of the crusader’s march on Midsummer Eve, when fairies became visible.

Such was Christmas Night at Bracebridge Hall, England, in 1820.

The story set in the fictional manor was written by American author Washington Irving, and published in 1820 in the fifth installment of The Sketch Book of Geoffrey Crayon, Gent. This was less than three months before the world was introduced to the Headless Horseman in “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” prior to the start of the Victorian era – and when Charles Dickens was only seven years old.

Twenty-three years before Ebenezer Scrooge changed his ways on the holiday in 1843, and 143 years before Andy Williams first sang about the most wonderful time of the year in 1963, Christmas had already been established as the season for telling scary ghost stories.

Irving’s English countryside story reminded readers of the idea of the paranormal and Christmas connection, but he didn’t invent it by a long shot.

Before it was “Christmas,” it was midwinter, solstice, Saturnalia, Sol Invictus, and Yule. It was the longest night of the year in the Northern Hemisphere. It represented death, and rebirth, and was a time when the veil between worlds was thin. And it took place around December 21. 

Prior to the emergence of what we know as the seasonal mascot Santa Claus, there was Sinterklass, and Saint Nicholas before him. There was the long-bearded Odin who would lead a band of hunters, or fairies, or armies of the dead across the sky during Yuletide on the Wild Hunt of Old Norse and Germanic Pagan beliefs. And much like Odin, and solstice, were appropriated, or enveloped, into Christmas, so were seasonal pagan songs turned into carols.

As Christianity spread, folklore incorporated the supernatural with the religious holiday. The anti-Claus Krampus is possibly from a pre-Christian era, but the beast of Germanic and Eastern European origins became a counterpart to St. Nick, and appeared as a hairy goat-like demon with horns and cloven hooves. Written in the 9th-11th century, the Sagas of the Icelanders has some pretty heavy duty spectral action during the season, including revenants. And the underworld race of goblins known as kallikantzaroi emerged in Southeastern Europe in (approximately) late 14th Century with a mission to wreak havoc during the 12 Days of Christmas.

The idea of paranormal stories told during the winter had already been documented in fiction by 1589, when Christopher Marlowe wrote of the season’s tales of “spirits and ghosts” in The Jew of Malta. Shakespeare shortly thereafter wrote of a sad story best for winter, “of sprites and goblins” in 1623’s The Winter’s Tale — nearly two decades ahead of Oliver Cromwell banning, or trying to, Christmas celebrations in 1644 during the English Civil War.

Meanwhile, in the colonies, the Puritans rejected the pagan trappings and revelries of Christmas. Stephen Nissenbaum, author of The Battle for Christmas, writes that from 1659 to 1681, Massachusetts made public celebrations of the holiday a criminal offense carrying a fine. Notably, Captain John Smith of Jamestown celebrated the holiday in 1607, but festivities in America weren’t widespread. Christmas wasn’t even a national holiday until 1870.

By the time Irving came to write of English Christmas traditions, which also involved “mumming” and hanging mistletoe, it was a romanticized notion, and not likely being observed with much fanfare outside the countryside. In the industrial areas, December 25 was just another day of work.

But Irving’s story nonetheless connected with Charles Dickens. In his book Dickens, Peter Ackroyd writes the author had lived an idyllic life in the country until that happy existence abruptly ended, and his father was sent to a debtor’s prison when young Charles was just 12. So Irving’s Bracebridge — a setting familiar to Dickens, and based on the real-life Watt Family at Astor Hall — must have stirred up nostalgia for his childhood lost.

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In time, Dickens and Irving became friends, and the former credited the American author with influencing his own Christmas writings. A Christmas Carol, in Prose: Being a Ghost Story of Christmas was published December 19, 1843, but Dickens’ previous work The Pickwick Papers had already included a story about a Christmas Eve with ghost stories, reminiscent of Irving’s “Old Christmas.” He likewise introduced a proto-Scrooge in “The Story of the Goblins Who Stole A Sexton” in 1836 as a chapter of Pickwick.

Interestingly, from a paranormal perspective, Dickens’ “ghosts” in Carol are more inhuman entities than traditional spirits of those who have passed. Christmas Past is described as an “it” with a bright flame atop its head; Present is described as quite large with a wreath of holly and icicles; Christmas Yet to Come is the Grim Reaper-esque figure in a black shroud without a discernible face and body. The ghost of Marley is a familiar sort of ghost, though trapped in chains, returning when the veil is thin much like the old pagan tales suggested.

If Irving’s successful Sketch Book reminded English readers of the ghost story tradition, it was Dickens’ blockbuster hit that made it mainstream. Like any good creator, he gave the audience more, and wrote four additional Christmas books, and several essays on the topic – many of which involved supernatural elements, and promoted Dickens’ “Carol Philosophy” and themes of generosity.

After Jesus and Santa, Dickens gets a lot of well-deserved credit for how we celebrate Christmas. He helped remind the urban English population of the good ol’ days of Christmases of yore, and popularized the holiday as a secular charitable observance (and he coined the phrase “Merry Christmas”).

Though Dickens didn’t create the idea of Christmas ghost stories, he helped make it quintessentially British. Victorian magazines and newspapers took to publishing these themed stories for holiday fireside reading, and readers ate it up. Not surprisingly, other authors wanted in on the trend, even if they didn’t echo the Carol Philosophy.

Elizabeth Gaskell contributed the ghost yarn “The Old Nurse’s Story” to Dickens’ 1852 collection, A Round of Stories by the Christmas Fire. The list goes on: John Burwick Harwood’s “Horror: A True Tale” (1861); Ada Buisson’s “The Ghost’s Summons” (1868); Robert Louis Stevenson’s “Markheim” (1885). Even American Edgar Allan Poe set his 1845 poem “The Raven” in “bleak December,” and American ex-pat Henry James’ The Turn of the Screw (1898) begins on Christmas Eve.

By 1891, English humorist Jerome K. Jerome commented on the popular tradition in Told After Supper:

“It always is Christmas Eve, in a ghost story. Christmas Eve is the ghosts’ great gala night. On Christmas Eve they hold their annual fete. On Christmas Eve everybody in Ghostland who IS anybody…comes out to show himself or herself, to see and to be seen, to promenade about and display their winding-sheets and grave-clothes to each other… Whenever five or six English-speaking people meet round a fire on Christmas Eve, they start telling each other ghost stories. Nothing satisfies us on Christmas Eve but to hear each other tell authentic anecdotes about spectres. It is a genial, festive season, and we love to muse upon graves, and dead bodies, and murders, and blood.”

This popularity of ghost stories in Christmas was aided by the fascination with the paranormal, and the rise of Spiritualism in the Victorian and Edwardian eras. As seances and the use of spirit boards became more vogue, so did the holiday trend. When the religious movement faded from the spotlight in the 1920s, the ghost story tradition stuck around even if the English slightly cooled on it during the early-to-mid war-torn 20th century.

M.R. James, the medieval scholar, and one of the best ghost story writers ever, took to telling fireside tales of the supernatural while he served as Provost at Eton College from 1918-1936. In North America, Canadian novelist Robertson Davies would do the same at Massey College, according to bibliographers Carl Spadoni, and Judith Skelton Grant. Meanwhile, American horror author (and racist) H.P. Lovecraft set his 1925 Necronomicon story “The Festival” during Christmastime.

Anecdotally, it seems Halloween now dominates when it comes to the season of the ghost, even in the United Kingdom. But the Christmas tradition has not entirely faded. The 1970s BBC special A Ghost Story for Christmas has returned in recent years, and The Guardian published five such stories over the course of as many days in 2013.  

Contrary to the “scary ghost stories” lyric of classic American Christmas carol “It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the Year,” the U.S. didn’t take to the Christmas ghost story in the same way our British cousins did in the late 19th century  (which makes it especially peculiar the song was written by two New York City kids, Edward Pola and George Wyle, and sung by Iowa’s own Andy Williams).

Rather, Christmas in America became especially defined by the jolly (but also supernatural) Santa Claus character presented in the 1931 Coca-Cola advertisement, painted by Haddon Sundblom, and inspired by Clement Clark Moore’s “A Visit from St. Nicholas” aka “Twas the Night Before Christmas.” The folklore of Christmas in America in the early 20th Century was candy cane sweet. Lacking was the ominous spookiness that reminds us to seek the light.

(The indigenous peoples of North America also celebrated solstice, such as with the Iroquois Haudeshaune; the Passamaquoddy tribe’s belief that frost giants returned north during this time; the general idea across different native nations that this time is a celebration of light returning to turtle island (Earth). These traditions were never incorporated into American culture, and were instead purged by colonization.)

Still, America has gradually been making up for its absence of Christmas ghosts and goblins. The angelic 1946 film It’s a Wonderful Life, directed by Frank Capra and starring Jimmy Stewart, espouses enough of the Carol Philosophy of goodwill to make Dickens proud. In Dr. Seuss’ 1957 book, and 1966 animated special, How The Grinch Stole Christmas, the creature on Mount Crumpit is a modern-day Krampus. Rod Serling toyed, somewhat literally in one case, with the notion of magic and ghosts in his 1960-62 Christmas episodes of The Twilight Zone (“Night of the Meek,” “Five Characters in Search of an Exit,” and “Changing of the Guard”).

These days the holiday horror subgenre of film has channeled the scary nature of Victorian tales. Santa -as-slasher is well-tread territory thanks in large part to 1974’s Black Christmas, directed by Bob Clark (who also co-wrote and directed A Christmas Story).  More than ghosts, the monsters of Christmas in American cinema has included Gremlins, Krampus, Jack Frost, Gingerdead Man, and the zombies of Anna and the Apocalypse. And the “real” Santa and his creepy elves themselves become the monsters in the Finnish film Rare Exports.

But perhaps with the exception of A Nightmare Before Christmas, and some of the more effective adaptations of A Christmas Carol, such as Scrooged, the sentimentality of Irving and Dickens is mostly absent from modern holiday tales of the supernatural. Yet they certainly bring us right back to the monsters and undead of the pagan tales.

However, with the seemingly nonstop demand for “content” across streaming platforms — and the seasonal English tradition gaining fresh attention on media outlets — we might be on the threshold of a new age of December-set stories populated with spirits and goblins.

Perhaps once more in the near future, every Christmas Eve will be a great gala night for ghosts.

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Its butterfly shape makes it almost two islands connected by a brief land bridge, with Pointe-A Pitre, the middle of commerce and main cruise port, barely east of the center. Grand-Terre, the eastern wing, is a flat, dry limestone island, densely populated and extremely developed. Basse-Terre, the western wing, is volcanic in origin with mountains rising to 5,000 feet. Most of Basse-Terre is a national park. The Pershing yachts for sale can be a great chance for yacht enthusiasts to consider purchasing their own yachts. Pershing experienced been produced in the year 1981. The first major yacht success for the company experienced been the nicely recognized Pershing 45 which had been developed by Fulvio Di Simoni. When it arrives to design there are a hundred various choices and combinations that can be attempted. There are no fixed rules. These wide classes will assist you determine what type you want, what the island will really look like is up to you. They are a fantastic way to give your kitchen an upgrade. Whether or not you decide on a Built In island or a Kitchen Cart you will discover yourself with added storage and planning space. The kitchen area island is an addition that can be loved by the entire family. The 2nd island is Pa-Young or Koh Tune. There is no beach on this island. So, it is just a good site of deep diving and snorkeling. The third island is Pa-Youn or Koh Sam. Also, there is no seaside on this island. Usually, people call this island "The Great Wall Island" as there is a rock development just like the wall below the sea around the island. Lots of stunning fishes are swimming about the wall including barracuda. This island is a great spot for deep diving. The only chance for apples was if the American, who as soon as constructed an airstrip and cottage right here years in the past had brought a tree in with him. Nonetheless, it would require to be self-pollinating and there was very small chance of it growing in this arid climate. Was Minnie mildly delirious from her suffering? The US Virgin Islands are known for their distinctive character because they stand out from most of the other Caribbean destinations and islands. The Virgin Islands are recognized for their natural elegance, their calming local weather and their relaxing environment, which is why it is one of the most favored destinations for yachters. The very best way to travel to the Virgin Islands is via the Pershing yachts for sale since the Pershing yachts are known for their innovative styles and their performance oriented engines.

[schmidtchristmasmarket]

We are excited to bring you another edition of our favorite travel blog. This time, we will be looking at all of the activities you can enjoy with your family while vacationing in Russia this year if you happen to be in St. Petersburg over the holidays.

The city of St. Petersburg is one of the most important to all of Russia and its history.

The entire city was the site of the bloodiest battle of all of World War II. Despite that tragic past, the Christmas period still permeates the places and people of this city. Russia's cities are just as eclectic as its land. It is wide-ranging, and you will experience many things.

There are at least eight different palaces worth visiting, but many more things are available to check out. We have tried to narrow down things to make it an easier decision.

Please do not feel overwhelmed; it is only the holidays after all. But, if you do happen to have the time check out each of these as they are all worth it.

Top Eight Christmas Vacation Ideas For Travelers In Saint Petersburg This Holiday Season

We are open to beginning our tour of the various sights and sounds of the city of St. Petersburg, Russia, with some of the world's most famous palaces. The most impressive of them all is the winter palace, which belongs to Peter the first.

Winter Palace of Peter I

Schmidt Christmas Market reports that this Palace was occupied for nearly 200 years between 1732 and 1917. It now belongs to the state and is a part of the Hermitage Museum.

The physical location of the Palace is in the middle of Palace Square and the Palace embankment.

The version of the winter palace that we see standing today is its fourth iteration, which was first rebuilt in 1837. The winter palace was designed to be gargantuan in size to display the mighty power of Imperial Russia. It is hard to comprehend exactly how massive it is if you have not seen it in person.

When the Palace has first constructed, the czar of Russia controlled 1/6 of the Earth's landmass under his reign. This included a total of 525 million people that belonged to his kingdom by the end of the 19th century.

Catherine Palace and Park

This particular Palace is a fine example of what you would call a Rococo palace. It is located within 10 miles of downtown St. Petersburg and is the location of the ancient Russian Tsar's Palace for the summers.

The land was gifted to gather in the first 1710 by the grace of Peter the Great. Catherine the first had her first Palace built-in 1723 on the property.

Before the construction of this Palace, the only thing on the farmland was a tiny wooden house. It is exemplified by both Baroque and neoclassical architecture.

Grand Peterhof Palace

The Grand Peterhof Palace is a collection of different gardens and smaller palaces created by Peter the Great to challenge the Palace of Versailles.

After Peter, the Great, returned from a visit to the French royal court in 1717, he had decided to create his version of that beautiful Palace in his homeland.

Today, it is recognized as a UNESCO world heritage site. The gardens there are delightful to walk around and visit.

Pavlovsk State Museum

Schmidt Christmas Market always loves a good trip to the museum, and we find a city that has one worth visiting. The state has commissioned Pavlovsk Palace is one of the countries leading museums.

The museum is surrounded by a large English garden that is a public park. In 1777 Catherine, the second of Russia gave the land that the foundation of this Palace is to her first son.

The site went through several historical events and has been recognized as a historical site today. The museum will walk you through the lands of ancient history and talk about Russia and its people.

Faberge Museum

Christmas decor will rarely be as decadent as anything you find inside the Faberge Museum in St. Petersburg, Russia. This is the world's largest privately and Museum collection open to public viewing.

The museum is located inside of the Shuvalov Palace.

Inside of the palaces, wondrous halls are over 4000 individual pieces of art and other high-value items. The prized possession of the museum is the sign in Imperial Easter eggs created by Faberge for the final two Russian stars. The Faberge X are some of the most beautiful royal regalia ever adorned by the Russian emperors.

This museum only began to be opened to the public in 2013, but it has since seen millions of individuals walk through its halls to see the $100 million collections of fine art from around the world and throughout history.

Yusupov Palace on Moika River

Christmas Decor does not always next with scary stories, so we will not tell you about the history of Rasputin in this palaces hallowed ground, but it is still in place worth visiting.

St. Petersburg has some of the most storied histories in the entire Russian kingdom. Land for this Palace belonged in Imperial hands for many years before anything was officially constructed.

The first version of the Palace that currently adorns the land was built in 1776 by a French architect.

This architect was imported by the Imperial Russian stars to try out some of their famous architectural styles. The Palace was nationalized after the Russian Revolution, and today it is recognized as a Hermitage site.

The State Hermitage Museum

The State Hermitage Museum is considered one of the premier institutions of fine arts in the entire city of St. Petersburg, Russia. It is still, to this day, the second-largest collection of art in the museum open to the public today.

The collection was created in 1764 by Catherine the great when she first purchased the collection from a German merchant. Only a tiny portion of the entire collection of art is available on display permanently.

The rest of the items will rotate throughout several years. Entrance to the museum is free every single day for children and on the third.

Thursday is free for everyone who wants to go and attend one of the world's most impressive are museum collections during this Christmas season this year.

Mariinsky Theatre Concert Hall

This theater hall is perfect for the entire family to check out some of the amazing Christmas girls that happen every year over December.

It was first built in the year 1900. It is impressive when multiple buildings in a city are nearly as old as the country you are visiting. You must get used to that when you visit some of the older Eastern European cities if you happen to live in the United States most of the time.

Few things are as old or as storied available in our home country. Check out some of the world's greatest fine art by purchasing a ticket for the Nutcracker at this amazing concert hall. It makes a perfect family getaway for everyone during this special time of year.

Written by Hedi Schreiber for Schmidt Christmas Market.

[quoththeraven-nevermind2]

Thanks @notreallybeccab

Name: Ellie

Gender: Female

Star sign: Capricorn

Height: 5'11" (180 cm)

Time: 1040

Birthday: 05 JAN 00

Favorite bands: Mumford and Sons, Five Finger Death Punch, Queen, Oh Hellos, Fallout Boy, Imagine Dragons, Of Mice and Men, Three Days Grace, ABBA, Fitz and the Tantrums

Favorite Solo Artists: Barnes Courtney, Pat Benatar, P!nk, Ava Max, Jonathan Young, Lorde, Florence and the Machine, Billie Holiday, Bon Jovi

Song stuck in head: Accidentally in Love by Counting Crows

Last Movie: The Lady in White (1988)

Last Show: I've been bouncing back and forth between The Falcon and Winter Soldier and The Investigation (Efterforskningen) both are really good and I think I'm permanently hooked on Scandinavian Crime Dramas now

When did I create my blog: this one is fairly new because Tumblr won't let me into my old one @quoththeraven-nevermind but I've been on tumblr since 2013

What I post: I mostly reblog, but every once in a while I'll post some of my art

Other blogs: no

Why my URL?: it's from a shit post on Edgar Allen Poe's The Raven

Do I get asks: yes but it's mostly spam so I leave them in my box

Last thing I googled: Johnny Fedora and Alice Bluebonnet (1946) ((my favorite short ever))

I follow: a lot (probably around 200?)

Followers: including my old account, around 100?

Average hours of sleep: uh...either 5 or 10. It changes depending on how life is going

Lucky number: I've been told 7 is my lucky number but I really like 19

Instruments: (is this what we play?) I can play Bass, Cello, Viola, Piano, and Guitar. I would like to learn how to play other instruments like the flute or clarinet. ALSO A HURDY GURDY

What I'm wearing: My PJs :/ a Black tshirt with the Targaryen symbol and red pajama pants

Dream trip: I really want to go back to Europe to see my family. I haven't been there in 4 years and I miss it a lot

Favorite Food: anything Slavic and/or Eastern European, Mediterranean, Native American or Spicy!

Nationality: American

Favorite Song: Ooooof. Um, probably The Very Thought of You by Billie Holiday (1938) because it's the song my mom sang to me whenever I was upset or couldn't sleep. Now we sing it whenever we're doing stuff together

Last Book I read: Little Women by L.M. Alcott (1868) ((I'm reading it to my little sister))

Top 3 Fictional Universes I want to be in:

1.) Star Wars is a must

2.) um...Kingdom Keepers? Or a universe like that?

3.) Percy Jackson? Or Rangers Apprentice?

Idk, Star Wars is the only one I can think about, the other two are just guesses 😅

Favorite Colour: Dark Blue

@snowywinterevenings @angelwars11 @yeetis-mcgeetis

tagging game!

tysm @pietromaxidaddy for tagging me MWAH 🤌

rules: answer all thirty questions and tag as many people, as you can. let’s get to know each other a little better!

name/nickname: meryl-janna, mj (hee hee), porkie/spekkie

gender: female

star sign: sagittarius

height: 1.67 m

time: 6 pm

favourite bands: the neighbourhood, the orion experience, idkhow, mcr, abba, one direction (shhhh they have absolute bops), tame impala, mother mother, bring me the horizon, wallows, arctic monkeys, palaye royale, waterparks, paramore, half•alive, cage the elephant

birthday: december 15th

favourite solo artists: lana del rey, marina, harry styles, frank ocean, joji, doja cat, megan thee stallion, mitski, kali uchis, froukje, rina sawayama, cavetown, nicki minaj, rex orange county, lorde, yungblud, aurora, melanie martinez, mars argo, angèle

song stuck in my head right now: hotel room service. um,,,,,, i don’t know how to explain this,,,,, it’s just there,,,, in my head,,,,,,,, rent free 🧍🏻‍♀️

last movie: revenge of the sith

last show: attack on titan, currently on my armin brainrot,,,, so sorry besties

when did i create this blog: uhhhhh when i was like 10. oopsie

what i post: whatever i happen to hyperfixate on atm. currently star wars, marvel and snk

other blogs: @drearyarcade @mallowmarshal i barely post on those tho so don’t expect too much xoxo

why i chose my url: PLS I- i really like alliteration (my previous url was sapphosimp) and um,,,,,,, i have a wap for wolffe 😩🍑💦

do i get asks: no 🕳🏃🏻‍♀️

last thing i googled: “against catiline translation”

i follow: 230

following: 145

average hours of sleep: at this point i’m playing roulette with my sleeping schedule, this week it’s 3-5 hrs 🤡✌️

lucky number: 4

instruments: none i’m talentless

what i’m wearing: yellow sweater and jogging pants

dream trip: i wanna go back to rome, and visiting some asian countries (esp philippines bc my fam lives there!)

favourite food: tteokbokki! i always make it too spicy tho and then i can’t taste anything after for like 3 hours. still worth it. i’m a masochist like that

nationality: dutch

favourite song: cry baby - the neighbourhood

last book read: de oratore - cicero

top three fictional universes i wanna be a part of: star wars duhhhh, mcu (imagining urself as stark’s kid is elite) and supernatural so i can plan the destiel wedding myself

favourite color: pink!!

taglist: imma tag all of my mutuals bc ily and i want to get know u better xoxo (u don’t have to if u don’t want to tho!!!!!)

@minimumbrainsize @serpent1ne @wataabe @mysticperfectionbird @meabravo @nightcrwlerr @raf-loves-everything @actualkeigotakami @sacrosantt @chancelloramidala @moonsoflothal @book-hoardingdragon @fireemblemjazz @hadriana @astriloquiis-spam @leia-saveourskins @cashew-kat @alien-soop-spam @darkmauldeservedbetter @kamino-mermaid @mayonnaise-and-anarchy @aleksaphobia @bubblegumnebulaa @jadetheaverage @j-mysticalien

[miningtransport]

Sightseeing Car

July 4, 2017

I think since the Fourth of July is a travel day, that means I'll be sidestepping the holiday altogether. It’s such a hot, dusty, crowded holiday sometimes and we’re sliding toward authoritarianism right now, so skipping it seems fine. But it doesn't work out like that on the Coastal Starlight Amtrak train from Salem to Seattle.

By the time we cross the Columbia River and head up into Western Washington, I've abandoned my seat in coach and am stationed in the sightseeing car. On those big trains that come all the way up from L.A., the coach cars feel like dormitories. People are really camping out in there. There’s little babies, and odors, and sleeping bags. More than half of the curtains have been pulled shut. The sightseeing car is full of light and windows, with the seats facing out.

A couple of volunteer park rangers are narrating what we see out the windows. They have a lot of good information about rivers, the industrial stuff we pass, ships taking grain to Hong Kong, steel plants. Osprey nests. Local history. It's a bit cheesy at times, but I enjoy the narration of the ride, and it's kind of cute how many people are happy to be talked at by the old duffers in vests.

Different people sit around me and then depart. They half listen, half talk amongst themselves. A young man in head to toe Seahawks gear sits down awkwardly in the seat next to me for a while. I take him to be Middle Eastern. Two young Asian women across the aisle seem to just be getting to know each other. I catch snippets of their conversation. “It can be hard. Do your parents speak English?” “No, do yours?”

I’m half listening, half writing in my journal about my weekend at the coast. A little voice says, “Excuse me, but is anyone sitting here?” It’s a black girl of about 8 years old. She is wearing pink sweat pants and a grey sweatshirt with pink stars on it. She has many long black braids. She’s confident, she’s polite, she’s smiling. For the moment she’s unaccompanied by an adult. I tell her to sit down. She’s peering out the window but also keeps blatantly looking over at me writing. “Whatchu writin about?” she asks. I tell her, “Just my weekend. Stuff that happened.” She looks disappointed, like she doubted I had a very interesting weekend, and if it were her writing it would be something juicier.

A little while later, an older man comes in the car. I don’t take him for her grandpa at first because even though his skin is dark brown like hers, he has one long braid down his back and his facial features and body language remind me of the old Native guys in the town where I grew up. But he is her grandpa and they move a little further down the car to where there were two seats together. He is spare and stone-faced, with a ball-cap on and plain jeans and a t-shirt. He doesn’t react much to the girl and certainly not to anyone else around him, but she merrily fills the picture in. “Yes, this is my grandpa,” I hear her say to someone across the aisle. She’s turned around in her chair, long arms hanging off the back. “We go to the lake, but usually only when it’s good for fishing. We catch a lot of fish. And eat them.”

I remind myself not to stereotype. Just because he seems really Native American, that doesn’t mean he is. He’s just a travel weary guy with an inscrutable face. And the whole inscrutable face thing, that’s stereotyping too.

We pass a tree farm, and one of the volunteers is saying in the microphone, “This is a Christmas tree farm, but where on Earth do you think you could use a 30-foot tall Christmas tree?” The little girl’s hand shoots up. The old white guy points to her and she says, “IN A MANSION.” He says, “Well no, they just cut some of the branches off to make wreaths and the rest of the tree keeps growing.”

She turns back to the window, unfazed. She seems to know her answer was better than his. She seems pleased with herself, and reasonably sure others are pleased with her too. Not in a show-offy way, but just in a nice way.

I hear two people behind me talking. Their travel plans were both thrown off by the train derailment a couple of days earlier. They commiserate, and then start talking about other things. They both live in Seattle. The woman is white, in her late twenties or early thirties. I’d taken a peek at her earlier. I don’t know about the guy. He sat down after I looked last. I don’t want to look over and be obvious.

Then I hear her saying, “You know, that one, that loud-mouthed African woman.” I think, “Who can she be talking about?” and then realize she means Kshama Sawant, an Indian-American councilwoman. The woman is saying that raising the minimum wage to $15 has “ruined Seattle” and caused businesses to close their doors. The man she’s talking to says “Um… that’s all really… debatable.” The woman goes on to say that she herself got a pay bump when the minimum wage was raised, but she says it scornfully, like it was no good to her.

A man on the other side of them overhears the exchange and comes into the conversation. The two men are ignoring the woman now, choosing not in fact to have that debate. They are talking between themselves about volunteering for this or that Democratic state legislator’s campaign. They are both really well versed in the nuances of local politics.

The woman butts back in and says loudly, “Are you Hispanic?” The man sitting next to her says “Uh, no. Not at all.” She says “Ok, well I was just asking a question.” Then she says, “Where are you from, then?” He says, “I was born and raised in Columbus, Ohio.” He is keeping his voice more casual than she is, but I can hear a certain tension sliding in. I can’t take it anymore, and glance over. The young man she’s talking to is the one I’d seen before, the possibly Middle Eastern (?) man in Seahawks gear. “Ohhhh” I think, as it all slides into place.

We’re approaching Centralia now. The little girl is still engaged with the scenery, the narration, her braids, her neighbors, herself. Her grandpa is still staring straight ahead thinking unknowable thoughts and betraying no emotion whatsoever.

The guys at the front with microphones are saying, “Centralia was founded by George Washington. No, not that George Washington!” They go on to explain that George Washington was the son of “a white servant girl and an enslaved black man” in Wherever, USA. His mother was afraid he would be sold into slavery, so she begged some people going west to adopt her son and take him with them. The family moved farther and farther west and I think George was a young man by the time they got to Washington. Stories of his entrepreneurial pluck. His ingenuity. How much the town loved him. How he was honored when he died in 1905.

I’m thinking, “Well, this is told like such a happy ending, but it’s a tragedy that this guy’s mother had to give him away because of slavery.” I think of Charles Mudede’s criticism of Nicole Brodeur—writing as if only white people are reading. I figure that’s what we’re all doing all the time. That’s America for you. One long rolling micro aggression, just like this train ride.

The train stops at Centralia, and our car is blocking an intersection. Cars are stopped waiting for the tracks to clear. A white couple in white middle age walk up and stop there, waiting. I look at them and think, “So you live in a town that was founded by a black man. Huh. Looks like Trump country.” I have no idea. I’m just stereotyping. He’s kind of sweaty and ruddy with a beer gut under his t-shirt and mussed up hair and sunglasses. She’s prim in her culottes with her little bob. I have no idea. But they seem very white and they could be Trump voters.

Then they’re smiling and doing big waves and I look over and see that they’re responding to the little black girl in the sweat suit and braids. She’s cheesing for them through the window. She’s waving like she’s royalty and her subjects have flocked to the tracks to watch her roll through her kingdom. I look to see if her grandpa looks amused. He is stone-faced as ever. I think, “maybe he’s like this all the time, or maybe he’s just really sick of white people.” As the train continues to sit there, the couple and the little girl both get distracted, but then as we pull away, there is a last beaming, waving connection—this time initiated by the white man on the sidewalk, who cranes his head and tips forward and makes the girl laugh with his goofy waving.

We’re running along the coastline now, and there are people down on the beach, on the rocks, on boats, on docks with their legs dangling off – mostly white people. The volunteer guys call our attention to a small island out in the bay, Fox Island. They begin another historical story, about how there was an Indian war because the governor of Washington was going to put “four large tribes and one small tribe” on a reservation out on that tiny island. I hear that the old white guys are trying, that they are saying the governor was responsible for the war, they are saying the names of the individual nations. They are saying it’s ridiculous that someone was trying to put all those people on a reservation on such a little island.

I think “HOLD ON” that’s not a reservation, that’s internment.

And then the guy speaking says that the tribes lost that battle but they “kind of won the war” because they got larger, separate reservations.

HOW IS THAT WINNING.

God. White people!

HOW IS THAT WINNING.

South of Tacoma, the crowds get bigger, browner, more citified. From the train it looks like some idealized version of a happy, multiethnic, multicultural society. Hijabis strolling in the sun. Big latino (latinx?) families. Kids running around. Black women with big natural hair and flowy skirts, swishing in the breeze. It’s just everybody. And people look happy. Tweets from that morning’s Black Twitter flash before my eyes. What the Fourth of July means, has meant to black people. How people find a way to carve out their own meaning, find their own sources of joy.

I read Black Twitter, and maybe I’m a bit of a lurker for following so many great black women writers on Twitter and reading their blogs and think pieces. But I figure if I keep listening to them, maybe I’ll be ready just on the off chance that I write something someday that finds its way to one of them. Because I don’t want to write like only white people are reading, or talk like only white people are listening, or experience the U.S. like only a white person can.

[channelguest]

Travel Trac Comp Fluid Bicycle Trainer | Tourisme Travel Pro

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Read Also – travel trac comp fluid bicycle trainer

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So why wait, opt for the most effective plan from the a lot of Goa Tours Packages.

A youngsters adventure holidayis a wonderful way for you to know your youngster is obtaining a great deal of physical activity in their day though possessing the greatest time of their lives. There is generally evening entertainment at these adventure holidays so that there is in no way a dull moment for the young children. Even much better, there is normally a choice of activities for your kid to decide on from so that they can tailor their day to what appeals to them.

On our subsequent list we have the Sikkim Tourism, which is a hit in particular amongst the adventurous holiday makers and those who adore nature. The Sikkim Tours are assured for a particular rendezvous with some of the most excellent locations in this globe. You are in for the wonderful snow-capped mountains and breathtaking locations with the Sikkim Tours Packages. There is hardly anything you will miss in the Sikkim Tourism Packages Tours.

The humpback whales journey from Antarctica to the island of Tonga can take them on an awesome journey of about 25,000 kilometres each and every year. These sea mammals will only feed on krill and smaller fish in the course of the summer time months in icy polar waters, travelling to the tropical Tongan waters to each breed and give birth to their calves. Through this time they will not consume, living off their reserves of fat built up during summer time. Humpback whales have a wide range of feeding strategies which involves the bubble net catching system.

As we have promised you, there are much more surprises waiting for you with the Goa Tourism Services. The beach have to be the 1st point when you hear about the Goa Tours, although there are so quite a few other factors. Spectacular colonial monuments, bird sanctuaries and planet heritage websites are some places where you can spoil yourself in the offers supplied by the Goa Tourism. So why wait, select the finest program from the a lot of Goa Tours Packages.

An additional spot of historical interests, which are maintained for modern knowledge, is offered by the Rajasthan Tourism Services. In a specific way, the Rajasthan Tour involves sojourn at various globe-class spots like the city fort and medieval monuments with jaw-dropping. No wonder, the Rajasthan Tourism is famous cutting across national boundaries. The Rajasthan Tourism Packages are full of surprises. For your pleasure, there are numerous Rajasthan Tour Packages.

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The North India Taj Mahal Tours is the initially thing that comes out of our suggestion. In a land distinctly marked by one particular of the illustrious periods in Indian history, the Taj Mahal Tour Packages assured that your getaway will be going back to the previous. But this does not that the Taj Mahal India Tours are only about history. For instance, the Taj Mahal Tours will amaze you. For a hint, go for sigh seeing in the course of the Tour of Taj Mahal.

It can in some cases be tough to assume of how to entertain your little ones. Kids consistently want anything new to attempt to keep them active and engaged. There is no much better way to tire them out and let them have a excellent time by sending them on a kids adventure vacation. Adventure holidays offer a range of activities for children to take part in so that they can try their hands at all kinds of distinct expertise and hobbies. Your little ones will be knackered by the end of each day for having attempted so numerous new activities and possessing so significantly exciting.

There are also a lot of adventure holidays exactly where the whole family can go to, with a variety of activities for all ages. Eager to attempt a new challenge? Click right here for additional India Trekking tours. Kids adventure holidays give youngsters the chance to develop private and leadership capabilities. There are frequently instances exactly where they ought to work as a team in order to achieve a goal, or support every other via a hike or some tougher activities. These are lifelong capabilities which are important to develop, and thanks to these holidays, you can be sure that they will.

On an equal level of wonder and amazement, the Himachal Pradesh Tourism lies serenely on the northern side of the Himalayas. Flooded with landscapes that are additional genuine than postcards, the Himachal Pradesh Tourism Packages will take you to those spots exactly where you have never imagined in your life. The Himachal Tourism Services also present good rides to several locations of religious value. Needless to say, the Tours of Himachal Pradesh are popular among the pilgrims. The Himachal Tours do make it easy how to strategy for the very best vacation.

Travel Trac Comp Fluid Bicycle Trainer – The Himachal Tourism Solutions also present nice rides to quite a few areas of religious value. Needless to say, the Tours of Himachal Pradesh are well-known among the pilgrims.

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