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studentinpursuitofclouds · 19 days ago

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Can you rank the sdv bachelors/bachelorettes on who would adjust the best/worst to farm life? I'm curious on your opinion :))

Sure thing, let's do a ranking on our marriage candidates 😃 Thanks for the ask, dear anon! 🫰💕

Also, I think it's worth saying that I think all candidates will adjust well to their new life on the farm. This is where I described and judged candidates when they first moved onto the farm, from day one. This is just my opinion, so if you think differently, feel free to write about it here in replies!

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SDV bachelors:

Shane gets a confident 8.5/10. After all, he didn't get the nickname "chicken man" for nothing, as he takes excellent care of hens on his aunt's ranch. So much so that he's bred his own breed of blue chickens! Plus, I'm sure Shane has helped Marnie take care of other animals while in the barn, and knows a fair bit about growing crops (at least his favourite hot peppers). So he will adapt almost instantly!

I'll probably get some hate for this, but I'll give Elliott a 1/10. With all due respect to our gallant writer, he literally has a quote where he says he "won't water the plant with salt water this time." ...Who would ever think of watering a freshwater plant with salt water, even without a background in gardening? So it's going to take Elliott a long time to adjust to life on a farm, especially if it's a Beach Farm ("Don't water the tomatoes with seawater!").

Normally Sam's mother, as she herself claimed, didn't make him and Vincent do house work, and there's no garden or hint of anyone in the family taking care of the houseplants (most likely Jodi doing all the work). So Sammy jumps from the life of a carefree musician to one full of farm chores, at least partially. In fact, he doesn't mind giving it a try, just doesn't know where to start ("Honey, help me"). 3/10, he's a little confused, but he got the spirit.

Being constantly busy working with patients, despite the small size of the town, and a bunch of other things to do in his clinic, certainly doesn't leave Harvey enough free time to do much gardening. But at least there's some time to read books, and the library just happens to have a couple of interesting ones about farming. I think it will at least give him the opportunity to grow tomatoes in a pot (albeit decorative ones). It's going to be a lot harder with farming, but Harvey even likes it. Still, 3.5/10, he's trying.

Similar situation with Sam, Sebastian will jump from a life of freelance programming work to the farm work. Of course Farmer won't force Sebby to work for them, after all they love him for who he is, not as free labour. But emo himself feels he should help his spouse with their work somehow. He's so-so at growing crops, but taking care of the chickens and goats is much better. 4/10, the black hens are his favourite, btw.

Oh, Alex will fit into farm life quite nicely. The athlete may have difficulty tending crops, watering potatoes and garlic with too much water, but in terms of physical tasks he does just fine. Drag heavy bags of seed/hay? Heck yeah! Load heavy pumpkins into the shipping bin for sale? Easy, he'll do it with one hand! It's like a workout for him. 6.5/10, go Alex!

SDV bachelorettes:

Penny may not have had the opportunity to grow melons or have a small garden near her house (well, trailer in this case), she was constantly reading books about foraging and farming, overflowing with dreams of having her own green place. Soon her dream came true, and all the theory they read was not wasted. Of course, the young teacher will definitely have difficulties, as this is not a small garden but a huge farm, but she will adapt quite well. 7/10, very nice.

4.5/10 for Maru. Actually, she's been a great helper on the farm from the beginning, only her area of expertise was different. Maru will easily fix any broken oil maker or calculate the proportions of minerals for fertiliser, but when asked to take care of the vegetable garden, the young inventor will definitely fall into a stupor. Still, I'm sure she will get used to it, because Maru is a genius, and if she can create an intelligent robot, she can handle growing strawberries as well.

I was going to give Haley the same number of points as Elliott, but I thought her trying to learn how to interact with cows and my idea that she wanted to learn about growing sunflowers deserved another point. So let it be 2/10. Yes, very low, but Haley used to be squeamish of any dirt and smells, so farm life, which is just full of dirt and smells (especially from the barn) will be a bit difficult for a girl.

In general, Leah's knowledge is closer to foraging than to farming, but the talented artist is definitely not afraid of hard work, and has a basic knowledge of growing crops. She definitely offered her then (future) spouse help on the farm several times. Yes, it was flirting, but Leah was actually willing to help carry seeds and water the plants, even had something to share about growing mushrooms on stumps. 7.5/10, she's a great fit.

On the one hand, Abigail has some experience in farming, as Pierre definitely asked her for help in his small vegetable garden behind the shop. On the other hand, the purple-haired girl didn't really show much interest in all this and she seemed to lack patience with plants and flowers before. It's different now, but Abby thought at times that her father and mother's chatter about plants was for a reason after all. 4/10, not too great, but not all bad either.

Emily takes care of the flowers in the house, so some knowledge she has. She loves nature and being outside, that's undeniable. Farming skills? Well... yes and no. Emily is a hard-working bee, but almost all of her time has been taken up at the Saloon, cleaning the house, and a passion for tailoring, so she doesn't have much experience. Still, it's there, and I'd give it a 5/10, but more because of the fact that Emily definitely takes good care of the animals ("My friends")

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So, from best to worst (SDV bachelors):

№1: Shane; №2: Alex; №3: Sebastian; №4: Sam; №5: Harvey; №6: Elliott.

From best to worst (sdv bachelorettes):

№1: Leah; №: Penny; №3: Emily; №4: Maru; №5: Abigail; №6: Haley.

#stardew valley #sdv #sdv shane #sdv sebastian #sdv harvey #sdv sam #sdv alex #sdv elliott #sdv abigail #sdv haley #sdv emily #sdv maru #sdv penny #sdv leah #sdv headcanons #thanks for the ask!

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clatterbane · 24 days ago

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A few other things I am kinda plotting to throw together in the near future, using stuff from the latest grocery haul:

Some amalgamation of these, following that basic slow cooker approach in the Instant Pot that won't seal right (what I've got available now), but without the kraut and following closer to my mom's recipe for sauce and seasoning. Sour cream is involved at the end.

(That particular recipe was originally picked up from a Coalfields Hungarian lady who married into the family, via her immigrant granny. May REALLY not bear much resemblance to anything ever seen in Hungary, by the time we're done with it--and I try chucking it in the slow cooker instead of the oven. Certainly a Hillbilly Melting Pot version thereof, but probably at least as "Hungarian Style" as the other one.)

Also a rather loose take on this, which I have eaten many times out of a Crock Pot. It needs some red wine. We've got some leg quarters, and I plan to chuck in a couple of breast filets for Mr. C partway through cooking. He's the kind of picky eater who doesn't particularly like bone-in chicken, and prefers light meat to begin with. Saves me from cutting up a whole chicken, and him from needing to carefully dissect very saucy bird on his plate.

For some already cut-up stew meat I caught on sale, it's a tossup between these two:

But made with the local "oat rice" instead, for a GF version. I really like the stuff, and the texture ends up a lot more like barley than brown rice ever would.

Or there's also:

Actually tempted to try throwing some carrots in that one too, because why not.

I do feel sort of like a one-trick pony here. What can I say? I really like tomatoes, and when the weather turns colder I start wanting meat-heavy stewed stuff. I'm also low on spoons, and it's extra tempting to either pressure cook things (not equipped for that at the moment), or just stick them in the Crock Pot for a while. And I'm trying to get back into the habit of doing more cooking again anyway.

We used to half-laugh about how, if my uncle was making supper? You were probably going to get a big pot of chili, spaghetti, or vegetable beef soup or stew made with tomatoes. Those he can do really well, but it seemed to be all he wanted to cook. (And we got a fair amount of things following that general pattern at our house too.)

It's apparently not just the good old "channel those Family OCD anxieties straight into ranting" pattern where I am following the man's lead as an adult. You can find me over here, stewing up my meat and tomato concoctions.

#personal #food #rambling #not kidding about the family ocd btw #there are worse things #to do with it than ranting

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voraciousvore · 9 months ago

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Giganterra (Chapter 3)

Prologue/ TOC | Previous (2) | Next (4)

Word Count: 3k

------ Chapter 3: The Threads of Fate ------

Candy Caramello went to town to sell vegetables. Her mother was usually responsible for this task, but she was hungover, so she sent Candy to go, once she was finished milking the cows. Candy didn’t mind, though, as she liked to get away from her tedious routine of drudgery on the farm to enjoy the sights of the city.

In particular, she liked to admire all the cute boys. Candy was a hopeless romantic, and she dreamed about meeting a handsome man, getting married, and escaping her boring rural life. Maybe a knight in shining armor who could sweep her off her feet and gallop off into the sunset with her, riding a mighty steed with a flowing mane and tail. Candy was a sweet girl, with blue eyes, long blonde hair, and big breasts, and she loved to flirt with all the men, but she was also a poor peasant girl of lowly station. She rarely got to meet any eligible men, isolated as she was in the rural countryside, so she wasn’t anticipating any serious marriage offers anytime soon. She was also exceedingly dimwitted and clumsy, traits that made her undesirable to the families of available suitors.

Her vegetables sold faster than she expected, so by midday most of her stock was gone. As she collected her things and her pouch full of coins from the sales, she felt the ground beneath her feet shake like an earthquake, accompanied by shouts and screams. She looked up to see what was causing the commotion, only to behold three colossal silhouettes on the horizon, flanked by the sun and stretching hundreds of feet into the sky. Her breath hitched in her throat at the monstrous sight. She couldn’t see their faces, only the sun on their backs, glinting off their weapons and chainmail. As their immense shadows engulfed the buildings around her, Candy was overcome with terror and fled like a mouse into the nearest entryway to hide, a tent that was set up in the market square near her stall.

Her heart pounded hard as she trembled in the darkness of the tent. Candy had, of course, heard the ghastly stories. Giant soldiers striding over the land, stomping on houses, destroying farmland, snatching up people with impunity. She was spooked by the tales, but had never encountered a giant herself up close, for real. She had only seen them from a distance and felt the tremors in the earth of their footsteps. She huddled in her indoor hiding place, too afraid to peek out as the rumbling steps waxed larger and closer.

“Come sit with me, child,” the voice of an ancient woman croaked from deeper within the dimly lit tent. Candy turned to face a hunched figure dressed in a midnight blue cloak embroidered with silver stars. She hesitantly walked over and sat down across the table from the old woman. There was a sizable spherical object on the table, concealed by a cloth. Upon closer inspection, she could just make out the woman’s face under the hood of her cloak, layered with heavy wrinkles. Her eyes were misty with cataracts, to the point where Candy wondered if she was blind.

Candy shivered as the giant feet clomped past, rattling the entire space. A few candles toppled off a nearby shelf. “No need to fear, child,” the old woman assured her. “The giants are not here to cause harm.” She tilted her head slightly, her cloudy eyes staring directly at Candy yet seeming to pierce straight through her. “I believe fortune has brought you here to me today.”

“Fortune?” Candy repeated, still flustered by the vibrations.

“Yes, fortune. I’m a fortune teller, darling. For a few measly coins, I will read your fortune. Usually I charge a higher price, but I sense you are special.”

“Wow, me? Special? But I’m just a peasant girl.” With her simple mind, Candy couldn’t possibly comprehend that she was being flattered for money. “O-okay.” She fished out a few coins from her pouch and gave them to the fortune teller, who greedily snapped them up with gleaming eyes.

“Excellent! Let’s begin!” the old woman proclaimed, tossing off the cloth on the table. Candy was amazed to behold a magical crystal ball, glowing brightly with flickering stars in the darkness. Swirls of pale fog glittering with an otherworldly light revolved below the slick glass surface among the sparkles. The fortune teller hovered her gnarled hands over the glass and muttered an indistinguishable incantation. Candy watched with wonder as the tendrils of fog swam faster and the stars luminesced even brighter, until they coalesced into a solid image. The fortune teller’s cataracts reflected the image in her eyes, along with the swirling magic dust.

“W-what is this?” Candy gasped with astonishment. She saw herself in the glass, yet she was different. She wore strange, foreign clothes, that seemed too short and skimpy for her voluptuous figure. She was running back and forth and pressing huge buttons on some gigantic device. Candy didn’t understand the image.

“This is you,” the woman explained, “but from a different reality.”

“A different reality?” Candy parroted back, bewildered.

“Yes. You see, the threads of fate pass through us all, like beads on a necklace, connecting us to different, inaccessible versions of ourselves from other realities. We are inextricably tied to our other selves, fated to follow similar paths.” She waved her hand over the crystal ball, and the image changed. Candy was stunned to see her alternate self sitting in a giant hand. A handsome giant face came into view, dwarfing her entire being.

“Oh no, a giant!” Candy cried. She was shocked to see the giant give her a tender kiss, and her other self blushing. “Wait… no…”

“This is the man you’re fated to fall in love with,” the fortune teller said matter-of-factly.

“What?! No! That can’t be possible. A giant?” Candy exclaimed incredulously.

“Yes. A giant,” the woman confirmed. “In multiple realities, as you can see.” She tapped her fingers on the translucent crystal, and the image morphed again, into a more familiar version of Candy, yet still slightly off. She was climbing a vine or something high into the sky. The same comely giant man appeared again, but in a different outfit. He held the other Candy, kissed her, and placed her on his chest.

“This can’t be real,” Candy uttered flatly. She was dumbfounded. There was no way she could ever even meet a giant, much less fall in love with one, as dashing as the man in the crystal appeared. Her heart sank as she felt her hopes slipping away from her. It was simply impossible. She would never find her dream man. She’d probably end up an old maid, or be married off by her parents for higher social status to some distant stranger who didn’t care about her, and only wanted her for her looks or body. She felt like crying.

The image shifted again, and Candy saw a different giant in the crystal. He was an older man, perhaps in his 50s, with silvery hair and pale blue eyes. He would be handsome, if not for the lascivious leer on his features that made Candy’s skin crawl. He, too, was holding her alternate self in his hands, but the other Candy looked panicked this time. She was desperately trying to escape as the giant toyed with her in his fingers, licking his lips with avaricious anticipation. Candy was repulsed and a little alarmed by the disturbing scene playing out before her.

“This giant... if you find him, you must avoid him at all costs,” the fortune teller said. “Although, you may be unable to escape your destiny either way. I can only wish you luck in your endeavors.” Candy nodded as she fixated on the lecherous old man behind the glass, tormenting the tiny human—the other Candy—in his beastly hands. Her stomach did a flip as he pinched her between his fingers and gave her a sloppy, sensual lick, slobbering all over her with his fat tongue.

“I’ll... keep that in mind,” she mumbled, averting her eyes from the odious sight. The window into other worlds faded until the ethereal light was extinguished. The fortune teller replaced the cloth over the crystal ball and thanked Candy for coming in. Candy left, covering her eyes as the natural sunlight momentarily blinded her after being in the dim tent. She trudged out of the human city back towards her home, deep in thought.

She could hardly believe her own eyes, with what she had seen. None of it seemed like it could be real, or even possible. And if it was, how was she supposed to meet the man she was fated to be with, her true love? She didn’t know any giants, and she wasn’t planning on introducing herself to one anytime soon. The whole concept was ludicrous. She dismissed it from her mind as melancholy seeped into her core. She would never find love.

While Candy was following the dirt path back home to the farm, Leon, Martin, and Joey were leaving the castle and treading back to the border between the kingdoms. Joey was simmering with anger, struggling to hold back his true feelings. Finally, when they reached the outskirts of the city and he knew there were fewer ears to overhear his speech, he couldn’t contain himself any longer.

“THIS is why we came? To—to enslave humans for the king?” he spat. “What we’re doing—it’s horribly repulsive and unethical! How are you two complicit in this? I respected and looked up to you! This is unforgivable!” Leon wilted as he absorbed Joey’s scathing criticisms.

“Joey, keep your voice down,” Sir Maneater rebuked sharply. “It’s not as simple as it seems.” Leon averted his eyes to the side and scrutinized the scenery, unable to look either man in the face with his unbearable burden of shame.

“Well, how then? Please, explain so that I can understand,” Joey said in a more subdued tone. He listened attentively to his mentor.

“We are servants to the king, enacting his will, whether we agree with it or not. As a knight, I have taken an oath to serve,” Martin explained. “And when you become a knight, Joey, you shall do the same.”

“If this is what it means to be a knight, then I quit,” Joey proclaimed.

“Please, Joey, I’m not finished.” The knight shook his head. “If not us, then somebody else would do his bidding, and nothing would change. In exchange for our loyalty, we have influence at court. Leon, as an advisor, has access to the king’s ear, an unparalleled privilege. Even if the king does not listen to everything he says, he will at least consider his advice and temper his decisions accordingly. Why do you think he hasn’t outright conquered Minimaterra, and still allows the humans limited autonomy?”

“It’s the best I can do,” Leon mumbled sadly.

“As for me, I provide fencing lessons to Crown Prince Ronny. Do you not see the value in such a position, to be able to shape the future ruler of the kingdom? If we rejected the commands of the king, not only would we lose our influence, but also our heads. King Richard is not known for his clemency.”

As Martin expounded to Joey his reasoning, he became so engrossed in the conversation that he neglected to watch where he was stepping. As fate would have it, the giants were heading straight for Candy, easily overtaking her comparatively miniscule strides. Candy, deep in her own cognitive machinations, noticed too late the seismic rumbles of the earth beneath her feet and the booming voices. She looked back to see several pairs of gigantic boots rapidly stomping towards her, threatening to crush her. The giants, with their unfathomably long strides, crossed huge swathes of land in seconds.

Candy, in a panic, turned to run and ended up tripping on a pebble that caught her toe. Her pouch spilled open, scattering her valuable coins all over the dirt. Her moment of indecision, on whether to scoop up the coins or get back to her feet and sprint, cost her valuable time. The giants progressed to her position much faster than she foresaw. A vast boot slammed down inches from her, knocking her down in a cloud of dust, and an involuntary piercing shriek escaped her lips. The giant stopped.

Candy froze out of instinct, terror rocketing through her nerves. She could sense the presence of the gigantic men looming over her as their forms blocked out the sun, draping her in shadow. Time stopped as her heart hammered in her chest. The silence felt as if it stretched into eternity with the tension. The dust settled around her, and she held in a cough. She couldn’t see them with her face turned down, but she could feel the weight of their eyes pressing her into the dirt like solid lead, to the point where her lungs wouldn’t function under the heavy burden.

“Oh, sorry, little human. I didn’t see you there. Are you alright?” a bass voice reverberated through the air from far above. Candy was too petrified to answer, or even move. She stayed facedown in the middle of the pathway.

When she didn’t respond, Sir Maneater, the giant who had nearly trampled her, grew concerned. “Oh no, I didn’t hurt the poor thing, did I?” he verbalized as he crouched down over her. Candy heard his enormous boots shuffling in the earth around her and felt the pressure of the air shifting as he lowered himself closer to her level. She didn’t dare turn her head to glance up, or even breathe, stubbornly keeping her face hidden.

To her horror, a set of fingers thicker than tree trunks wrapped around her and lifted her up from the ground. She desperately wanted to scream, but she was paralyzed as she watched the ground plummet away before her eyes, too far for her to jump. She was trapped in this huge man’s hand, helpless to do anything if he desired to harm her. Yet, she couldn’t help but notice how gentle his touch was, how careful he was trying to be with the fragile being in his grasp. With a single finger on his free hand, he carefully rolled Candy into his palm, so she was lying on her back. She could feel the rough ridges of his skin on hers, and the mounds of callouses on her back, as his fingers towered above her, each one taller and thicker than her entire being. Her heart was racing so fast, she felt ill.

“Hey there, are you okay?” he asked again, softly. He brought his head down close to examine her. Candy experienced a jolt through her body as she stared wide-eyed up at his massive face. She recognized him. He was the very same giant whom she had seen in the crystal ball, in various forms. The features were unmistakable: the sculpted jawline, peppered over with stubble; the dark, thick eyebrows; the large, masculine nose; the short, dark hair sweeping across his forehead; the stormy gray eyes. Yet, to see those characteristics brought to life, blown up to an impossible size, so striking and so close, was… breathtaking. Mesmerizing. Candy was overwhelmed, almost wondering if she was dreaming, yet the physical sensations of his all-encompassing warmth, the gentleness of his touch, the soft cushion of his palm supporting her miniscule body, the feeling of his breath washing over her, was all too real.

His brow furrowed slightly when she still didn’t answer, and just gaped up at him in stupefied awe. He touched her in the side with his finger, as gently as possible, in an attempt to get some sort of reaction out of her. He was relieved to see she was breathing, and he could feel her tiny heart thrumming against the pad of his finger. She seemed to be unharmed, just afraid—an understandable response. He let out a sigh of relief that he didn’t accidentally crush her under his boot.

As his exhalation tousled her hair, he saw her face turn red as a cherry with a hot blush. He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, as he suddenly became self-conscious about just how close he was to her. Yet, he couldn’t seem to pull himself away, as his eyes drank in all the fascinating little details of her form that he wouldn’t otherwise be able to see. She was like a tiny doll, with her lustrous golden hair, her cornflower blue eyes, and her perfect little figure, including a buxom chest. However, unlike a doll, she was vibrant and full of life. Her little limbs tickled his palm with every subtle shift, her eyes sparkled like sapphires, and her vitals pulsed against his skin. He was himself awestruck as he felt pink creep across his own cheeks, mirroring her blush.

“Sir Maneater, is the human alright?” Joey asked, snapping him out of his reverie.

“Y-yes, I believe so,” the knight answered, not tearing his eyes away from her. Candy managed a small nod to indicate she wasn’t hurt. Reluctantly, Martin forced himself to lower his hand to the ground, so she could go back to her natural habitat. She slid down his fingers, returning her feet to solid ground, and looked up at him, keeping her hands on the tip of his finger, as if begging for him not to go. He lingered before slowly retracting his hand and standing up to his full height.

Though only a moment passed, the two felt as if they were frozen in time, gazing at each other. Their hearts had connected, stitched together by a golden thread of fate. As Leon and Joey turned to leave, Martin did as well, glancing back at the tiny woman who stood in place and continued to gape up at him, spellbound. He kept looking over his shoulder even as she morphed into nothing more than a speck on the horizon, then disappeared from view.

Chapter 4

#giant #g/t #giant/tiny #tiny #g/t writing #giant tiny #size difference #g/t fluff #g/t story #gt fluff #gt story #gt writing #gentle giant #giant men #gianttiny

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othernotebooksareavailable · 5 months ago

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I found a house for sale with a lot wrong with it (level 3 mould and woodworm and parts of the baby poo coloured rendering falling off the kitchen is bare bones and for some reason on the upper floor) but. It's cheap, in a beautiful area near the sea and a stream and has a huge garden and was built in the 1700s. I'm hoping to go and see it soon for the mouldering farm cottage of my dreams to meet the reality of decades of owners Ignoring The Problem. Wish me luck!

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bomberqueen17 · 1 year ago

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car shopping part 1

ok i had capslock on when i started typing this and i startled myself, lol. i am. a bit tired and punchy. BUT. All hail my lovely middle-little sister, who volunteered to come take me to car dealerships last night.

Here are my extremely scientific notes on how that went, so that I can narrow down my car choices for definitely for sure:

1) Honda: we went to a Honda dealership, and my mom has a CR-V which I've driven and it's... fine, so I tried the HR-V, which is smaller. The sales guy immediately without asking was like "here you want this one" and had me test-drive a used 2020 model-- low mileage, nice car, but used. "Won't be here in a couple days tho, act fast," he said, and gave me his card. I'd told him this was the very first car of my search and I wasn't in a hurry. He didn't show me anything new, or tell me about anything new, but did say there were often quite long waits for new cars. Gotcha. Like, I'm not mad, but I'm also not going to pay $23,9 for a three-year old car when the current year's model is $24k. You know? I don't care how long the warranty is.

2) Subaru: we went because it was right there. Wandered around the parking lot. Crosstreks look... lower now?? somehow?? than mine? Much lower, don't know why. Specs said same ground clearance but. I'd have to look up what the specs were in 2014. Sales guy came out, asked if we wanted to see anything. M-L said I should try the Forester, so I was like sure, why not; one of the farm workers has a 2020 Outback I figured I'd ask his opinion on, and actually the part time veg helper guy has a recent Outback too, so there's no shortage of those around. So I test-drove a Forester. And like. I hadn't even got out of the parking lot and the guy was like, all casual, "so how's the visibility," and I really looked around and was like holy shit okay i can see through time so I really liked it. It was a higher-end package (had a huge sunroof, i actually really liked that, i'm a shallow bitch i guess) and kept trying to nanny me about leaving the lane on the winding back road but the guy reached over and pressed the button that disables that and it stopped yelling at me, which was great. Anyway. I did not expect that. M-L and I theorized about what kind of guy I'd be to be a Forester guy. "A middle-aged wealthy lesbian with a lot of large dogs," M-L said, and I was immediately depressed to realize that only one of those things is actually applicable. I have no wife and no large dogs. These are major failings of my life. But. I mean. We don't always end up the person we thought we'd be when we were nineteen.

3) Then we got to the Ford dealership, and a guy named Joey was like "ay what's up," and i listed the cars I was interested in and he was like "i can't get those or those but I got Broncos, let's go see one" and walked incredibly fast out into the parking lot without looking like he was hurrying, seriously it was eerie how fast he walked while looking like he was just ambling, and he led us to a "cactus gray" Bronco Sport, said "you wanna try this one? aight hang on" and went back into the building. I was like uh sure, we poked around the parking lot, and then he came back, handed me the key, was like "yah you two go for it, you know the roads around here? yah go see if you like it, I'll be here til eight." and off we went, slightly bemused. But yes, we were quite near M-L's house so she led us around a winding path. The Bronco's hood takes up rather a lot of the view out of the windshield. I raised my seat, which helped slightly. I could not find the right edge of the car and kept straying over into the shoulder. It was so boxy. The visibility out of the windows wasn't fantastic. But it had a lot of zoom and handled all right. Not terrible. I'm not a Ford Bronco guy I don't think, but I liked the Ford dealership folks, they were funny.

The sales manager came out and talked to me briefly and was like "well i mean how many cars are you looking for" and i was like "i have a spreadsheet" and he was like "a what now" and i got my phone out and showed him the spreadsheet Dude made and he was like "your guy is something else" and i was like "i mean, he sure is", and I did feel better about not being a wealthy middle-aged lesbian with large dogs if this is what I have instead but like. I mean. The road not taken etc.

"take notes," M-L said as we got home (after i bought her a sushi dinner bc there was a place right by the dealership and also i wanted sushi), and i was like "yah ok" but this is my notes. i'm sure i'll be able to make sense of them later.

#car shopping #about the author #real life

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antishaman · 3 months ago

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more self indulgent headcanons featuring a harvest moon/story of seasons/farming sim era because it makes me happy

so curses are still a thing but so are spirits. there's good and bad ones, the good ones being: the harvest sprites (that help out with the farms), the harvest goddess (who blesses or curses the seasons), and kappa (the river spirit), plus many more that i'll come up with later. having a great connection with these spirits is dire for safe and bountiful harvests

each of these spirits accept gifts in the forms of full baskets of crops, platter of delicious, home cooked meals and desserts, or dedicating various weeks throughout the year to these spirits. in return, the harvest sprites help out with the farm labor, kappa ensures that lots of fish are able to be caught around the villages, and the harvest goddess remains happy

ghosts and curses start to play into this by trying to stir up negative commotions within the small community. luring ferocious animals near the land not only to ravage the crops and livestock, but to attack the townsfolk too. curses would trick people to venture out into the surrounding woods and kill them, generating new curses out of the fear and spite of being killed which would in turn continue to haunt the surrounding area

the community is spread out but tightknit. everyone knows each others' families, their pasts, goals, and the history of their farms. some inherited through family lineage, but most of the homes out there have been abandoned, and people wanting to escape the city life would move in and take up the cheap homes. when repairs and bad irrigation was too much, these homes and farms would go back up for sale (i have suguru's house posted at the end). his gardening fields are near by, and the livestock that he has are chickens

there's various benign, curious spirits that live in the surrounding forests, and are generally shy to make an appearance to the locals. suguru has his technique still, but he can only eat curses, not spirits. i'm still going back and forth whether or not suguru is still in his murder phase or not for this, so i'll prolly just branch to two different paths: the guy who kills his neighbors (loose term), and the guy who just farms

#character study #hc #harvest moon is a dear game to me #and i have lots of feels of farming sim sugu jhigjhigjhf #i'll prolly add to this later #just wanted to put this out there

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so-low-solo · 6 months ago

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So indecisive and being swayed a lot.. looking up anti-squat houses to live in for cheap. Suddenly the boss says becoming a digital nomad would be fine ( he's making weird moves ofcourse because of the near bankruptcy).

Still want to travel south america. SOON. But maybe need to learn horse riding or getting a motorcycle license before going there.

Or maybe I need to get my money right first. Save up to a big amount. Before jumping in the wild. Eventually buy a big farm or factory in Africa. Passive income after spending 200K... maybe I need to look more into african companies for sale. All because of a conversation with an african 23 y/o girl while climbing in the playground together. Last weekend.

My mind. I am not rooted. I don't feel attachment from friends or family. I could do anything but this immobilizes me.

#me #i should also stop work and create art ans illustrations

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nonbinary-octopus · 8 months ago

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my internet went out last night so instead of getting liveblogged rimworld stuff you get all of it in one post

first off: had some visitors with a nice matched pair of names

next: there was a warg that kept eating my small animals, so I had Val, Nostil, and Gransier go kill it. Nostil sustained a few injuries, including one of his toes being ripped off entirely.

I thought this would be a good opportunity to give him a body mod as he has been pleading for, so after he was patched up I asked Dr. P to give him a peg leg

she. failed.

Somehow, despite being a very skilled professional doctor, instead of amputating his leg, she stabbed him in the torso and destroyed a lung.

Doctor Pugoik, what the fuck.

also how is that a minor failure. the lungs are nowhere near his leg and the boy is now bad at breathing, which lowers his consciousness, which has a bunch of other bad effects on him.

around this time I sent our new guy, Christian, off to do some peace talks near where we rescued Dr. P, and on the way back he stopped at those same two towns again, and bought some medicine because we ran out. He also saw that one of those places had an anti-toxin lung for sale, though we can't afford it, so once we have enough money, we can buy one of those to give to Nos, which will have dual benefits of being able to breathe and since he's a body modder, he'll be pleased to have another artificial part.

another, because when Chris got back with the medicine, I had Dr. P try again, and this time she gave Nos a peg leg successfully. That bumped his mood up eight points, from a -4 debuff to a +4 buff.

The peace talks went well, also.

And finally! Baby Gransier!

She's three now! I had not been keeping track of her age, and this surprised me.

Fortunately although we are pretty low on materials for clothing, Val did make some kid clothes (possibly because they require the smallest amount of material and he was able to skip to those tasks first), so she's dressed at least.

She then decided to go draw on the floor in the freezer.

Child why

She's cold sensitive due to being an impid, and doesn't have a parka. She was complaining that the main house (60ish degrees at the time) was too cold, and she decided to play in the -2°F freezer.

No.

I made her come out and play in the all-purpose room instead.

Also, not screenshotted, but Dr. P has been making good headway in taming all the wild animals. Nos and Xasalt are helping (and Xasalt has a higher animal skill actually), but I've been having Xasalt sleep during the day as much as possible since, as a dirtmole, she hates being under direct sunlight. So most of the time that she's outdoors the animals are asleep, and she can't tame them then.

We've got a decent number of farm animals now! A couple muffalos, some ibex, two turkeys, one mare (they're trying to get the other horses but no luck so far), and a yak we bought from some traders so we could have yak milk

and several squirrels and rats and guinea pigs. I have those set in the autoslaughter to just keep one male and one female (non pregnant) adult, because I don't want them to increase in number to the extent that keeping them tamed is a full time job. They're mostly for a meat supplement anyway.

Unfortunately they've only been successful in taming the male turkeys, and the singular female turkey either wandered off the map or got eaten by a predator, so no eggs for us yet.

the muffalos and ibex tho we've got both male and female, and most of the females are pregnant

#original #rimworld #gamer octopus #world 3

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newstfionline · 9 months ago

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Thursday, March 14, 2024

The US has its first presidential rematch since 1956 (AP) Just when Americans thought they were out, Joe Biden and Donald Trump pulled them back in. The sequel to the 2020 election is officially set as the president and his immediate predecessor secured their parties’ nominations. Biden and Trump have set up a political movie the country has seen before—even if the last version was in black and white. The last presidential rematch came in 1956, when Republican President Dwight D. Eisenhower again defeated Adlai Stevenson, the Democratic opponent he had four years prior. Grover Cleveland, meanwhile, was the nation’s 22nd and 24th president, winning elections in 1884 and 1892.

Congress is becoming less productive (Reuters) The U.S. Congress is navigating yet another government funding deadline—the eighth in less than six months—and are at an impasse over sending aid to key allies in Ukraine, Taiwan and Israel. Divisions among Republicans in the House and Senate killed a major bipartisan border policy bill. Reforms to bedrock programs like Medicare and Social Security are desperately needed but no closer to getting passed. Meanwhile, the House of Representatives spent close to a month without a speaker last year due to infighting between moderate and hard right factions of the Republican party. When U.S. Representative Chip Roy, a Republican from Texas, begged his colleagues in November to “give me one thing I can campaign on and say we did,” he was articulating what many lawmakers and observers were feeling: Congress isn’t working. The simplest expression of this is the number of bills passed by Congress. Just twenty-seven bills were passed last year—a record low.

In yearly Pennsylvania tradition, Amish communities hold spring auctions to support fire departments (AP) A couple hundred used buggies—horses not included—were lined up and ready for the auctioneer’s gavel last weekend when day began at the Gordonville mud sale, a local Amish tradition dating to the 1960s. Mud sales are country auctions that benefit volunteer fire departments across what the Amish community refers to as the Lancaster settlement, located some 70 miles (113 kilometers) west of Philadelphia where the devout Christian group began to settle about 300 years ago. They don’t sell mud, although a cold rain brought plenty of it. The name refers to early spring, when wet fields have begun to thaw but may not be ready for the plow. Gordonville’s mud sale, one of at least a dozen being held this spring in the region, drew thousands of bidders and was expected to net the fire department about $100,000, about 10% of the total proceeds. Amish people make and donate much of the food and sale items and are the buyers of most of the buggies and the array of horse-drawn farm equipment.

As leader resigns, Haitian politicians rush to form new government (Washington Post) Haitian leaders scrambled Tuesday to meet a 24-hour deadline to set up a panel that will lead the deteriorating country to new elections following the resignation of Prime Minister Ariel Henry. Kenyan officials, meanwhile, said they were putting the deployment of a U.N.-approved multinational security force to the beleaguered Caribbean nation on pause until a new government is in place, according to media reports. A senior U.S. State Department official said the transitional presidential council would select an interim prime minister and government in “the very near future” and the mission should “go forward without delay.” Perhaps the greatest question: Would the gangs that helped push Henry allow the transition to a new authority?

Germany hit by new wave of airport, train strikes (DPA) Germany has again been hit by a double wave of strikes in the transport sector, as train drivers and aeroplane cabin crews stopped work on Tuesday in ongoing wage disputes. Around 80% of long-distance trains were cancelled on Tuesday as train drivers from the state-owned rail company Deutsche Bahn went on strike. At major air hubs Frankfurt and Munich, tens of thousands passengers were having to reschedule their flights due to a two-day strike by the cabin crew union Ufo at Lufthansa. Individual flights were also cancelled at other locations such as Berlin's international airport.

‘Jamming’: How Electronic Warfare Is Reshaping Ukraine’s Battlefields (NYT) The Ukrainian soldier swore and tore off his headset. His video monitor had gone blurry at first, the landscape of shattered trees and shell craters barely visible, before blacking out completely. The Russians had jammed the signal of his drone as it was flying outside the town of Kreminna in eastern Ukraine. For a while, the Ukrainians enjoyed a honeymoon period with their self-detonating drones that were used like homemade missiles. The weapons seemed like an effective alternative to artillery shells for striking Russian forces. Now, the bad days are starting to outweigh the good ones: electronic countermeasures have become one of the Russian military’s most formidable weapons after years of honing their capabilities. Electronic warfare remains a hidden hand in much of the war, and like Ukraine’s disadvantage in troop numbers and ammunition supplies, Ukraine suffers in this area as well in comparison to Russia. Russia has more jamming equipment capable of overpowering Ukrainian signals by broadcasting on the same frequencies at higher power. It also exhibits better coordination among their units.

Naval drones versus Russian warships (BBC) The secretive G-13 unit of Ukraine’s military intelligence agency was behind the sinking of the Sergey Kotov warship last week, its fifth downing in the year since it’s been in operation. The group’s not-so-secret weapons are naval drones—cheap, unmanned and lethal. The Magura V5, named after a Slavic goddess of war, looks like a small motorboat with a flat surface instead of passenger seats. “It doesn’t emit a lot of heat, so it’s almost invisible for thermal cameras. It’s made from plastic, therefore even radars struggle to see it,” says the unit’s commander. Produced by the Ukrainian armed forces, the drone’s claimed range is 800km (500 miles), so it can easily reach the Crimean peninsula and even the Russian coastline. It can allegedly carry 250kg of payload, enough to sink a warship.

Putin warns the West: Russia is ready for nuclear war (Reuters) President Vladimir Putin warned the West on Wednesday Russia was technically ready for nuclear war and that if the U.S. sent troops to Ukraine, it would be considered a significant escalation of the conflict. Putin, speaking just days before a March 15-17 election which is certain to give him another six years in power, said the nuclear war scenario was not “rushing” up and he saw no need for the use of nuclear weapons in Ukraine. “From a military-technical point of view, we are, of course, ready,” Putin, 71, told Rossiya-1 television and news agency RIA in response to a question whether the country was really ready for a nuclear war. Putin said the U.S. understood that if it deployed American troops on Russian territory—or to Ukraine—Russia would treat the move as an intervention.

Chinese trust goes bust, reflecting turbulent economy (AP) Some investors in a troubled trust fund in China are facing financial ruin under a government plan to return a fraction of their money, casualties of a slump in the property industry and a broader economic slowdown. Sichuan Trust, headquartered in the southwest city of Chengdu, announced it was insolvent in 2020, stricken by sketchy accounting and failed investments in shopping malls and other projects. A deadline earlier this month to accept a 20%-60% “haircut” or loss on their investments has left some investors in deep financial trouble. China’s economy, the world’s second largest, depends heavily on real estate development to drive growth and create jobs. Property prices and sales have languished after a crackdown on what leaders viewed as dangerous levels of borrowing, causing dozens of developers to default on their debts. The ruling Communist Party faces a dilemma: Debt is a problem, but falling home prices lead people to scrimp on spending. That squeezes companies’ sales, so they lay off workers and cut back on investment. The result: slowing growth and less wealth to go around.

Medics say they were ‘humiliated’ in raid (BBC) For several weeks, Alice Cuddy and several of our colleagues have been investigating what went on when the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) raided Gaza’s Nasser hospital last month. It was at the time one of the few medical facilities still functioning in the Strip. Intelligence, the IDF said, indicated the presence of Hamas operatives—a claim denied by Hamas. Some hostages who got out of Gaza said they had been held at Nasser. Since the raid, Palestinian medical staff in Gaza have told the BBC they were blindfolded, detained, forced to strip and repeatedly beaten by Israeli soldiers. Doctor Ahmed Abu Sabha, whose account closely matches those of two medics who wished to remain anonymous, described being detained for a week. Muzzled dogs were set upon him and his hand was broken by an Israeli soldier, he said. The three men told the BBC they were beaten, doused with cold water, and forced to kneel in uncomfortable positions for hours. The IDF did not comment on the specific allegations, but said “any abuse of detainees is contrary to IDF orders”.

A Ramadan of ‘sadness’ as war-weary Gazans go hungry (Washington Post) For Mahasen Khateeb, the Muslim holy month of Ramadan used to be a time of lavish dinners, family gatherings, communal prayers and gift giving. “All of that is gone,” the 31-year-old graphic designer said by phone from Jabalya, in northern Gaza, which humanitarian groups warn is on the brink of famine after months of Israeli siege and bombardment. Khateeb doesn’t have enough food for suhoor, the traditional meal eaten before dawn, when the day-long Ramadan fast begins. On Tuesday for iftar, the post-sunset meal when people break their fast, she planned to make rounds of bread topped with canned tomato sauce. Her brother risked his life, she said, to get a bag of flour during a rare and chaotic aid delivery last week. “This situation isn’t new with Ramadan,” she said. “We’ve already been fasting for more than a month. … There are no food products to buy and eat.” Khateeb said she has mainly been subsisting on green leafy plants that grow with the winter rains and die out as spring approaches. 16 children have died of malnutrition in aid-starved Gaza, health officials say

A ship carrying 200 tons of food is heading to Gaza (Washington Post) A ship carrying nearly 200 tons of food left Cyprus on Tuesday to deliver desperately needed aid to the Gaza Strip, where concerns are mounting over the worsening humanitarian situation. The journey, if successful, would mark the first shipment of aid into Gaza via a new maritime route—but the supplies the ship is carrying represent only a fraction of the amount of aid needed after five months of a devastating war that has killed more than 31,000 Palestinians, according to the Gaza Health Ministry. The mission is being undertaken by World Central Kitchen, the aid organization founded by celebrity chef Andrés, who is based in Washington. “We have served more than 35 million meals in Gaza & the maritime corridor will allow us to provide millions more,” the group said.

Zimbabwe, After Expelling U.S. Officials, Accuses Them of Promoting ‘Regime Change’ (NYT) The government of the southern African nation of Zimbabwe detained, interrogated and deported officials and contractors working for the United States government last month, and this week accused them publicly of promoting “regime change” in their country. The incident is the latest in the Zimbabwean government’s aggressive efforts to thwart both domestic and international challenges to its authority. The incumbent government claimed victory in a chaotic election last year that several independent observer missions said lacked fairness and credibility. But it also points to a deeper tension over the United States’ proclaimed efforts to promote democracy around the globe. Some nations, including Zimbabwe, have accused America of meddling in their affairs and attempting to impose its values—as well as of hypocrisy, given the threats at home to its own democracy.

#headlines #news

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almostangrything · 9 months ago

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My little sibling had the idea for a story about evil pants. Here it is.

The Adventures of Larry and Jimbob: The Evil Pants Epidemic

In a lab, on a cliff, far away from any cities, several scientists were busy working. "Here, hand me that uranium," a scientist says. He fuels up the reactor, and a bright flash of light fills the room. Sitting in the beaker on the counter was a dark, black liquid. "Woohoo! We did it!"

"Daryl, this is pure evil essence."

"I know that, Terry. But still, we got it!"

"Yeah, yeah," Terry says exasperatedly. "Just get the beaker into the containment chamber." "Will do," Daryl responds as he carries the beaker. He walks into the containment chamber and sets the beaker down. As he sets down the beaker, a drop of the evil essence lands on his pants, right on the bottom of the leg, near Daryl's shoe. Daryl didn't notice, and goes about locking the cell appropriately. As he clocks out of work, he walks around, unknowingly spreading the evil essence from his pants to all the other peoples' pants. Daryl goes home, unsuspecting of the danger he had accidentally unleashed.

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As Larry MacWallace woke up, he could see the sun shining bleakly through the window in his room, which was in the attic of his house. He climbs out of bed, stretching, and walks over to his dresser to put his work clothes on. He grabs a plain, navy blue kilt and a light blue cotton shirt, and his worn-out black sneakers. He trudges down the stairs, eating some toast before going back up to brush his teeth and hair. He grabs the wool that had been spun and dyed, and places it in the basket in front of his dark green mountain bike. As he rides to his family's stall in the market square, he spots his best friend, Jimbob Johnson, in the stall next door.

Larry hops off his bike and leans it against the side of the stall, grabbing the wool from the basket. "Hey, Jimbob!" Larry calls out to his friend. "Hiya, Larry," Jimbob replies, putting the finishing touches on the display of knives, which was what his family made. "Whatcha got today?" Larry shrugs. "Some spun wool. I've get red, blue, and green, and I think I've got some yellow somewhere..." He looks in his basket. "Aha, there you are," Larry says as he places the bright yellow wool on the counter.

As the morning progresses, the fog that was slightly hanging over the city dissapated in the glare of the shiny sun. It was a perfect golden day. The sun was shining brightly, the birds were chirping, the clouds were light an puffy, a gentle breeze blew by, and Larry and Jimbob were both making very good sales. "Well, I had better go home to grab another stock," Larry says as he finally runs out of wool to sell. "Mind keeping an eye on the stall for me?" He looks at Jimbob, who nods eagerly. "Sure thing, buddy. Tell your parents I say hi!"

"Got it," Larry responds, as he kicks up the kickstand of his bike and rides out to the little farm his parents owned. Ever since he was eight, he would take his bike into the town and sell the wool that his parents collected, spun, an dyed. The city was so peaceful, that he never had to worry about danger. He loads up his bike, tells his parents, who were nice people, that Jimbob said 'hello', and sped off back to the market.

Just before he got back to his stall, he saw and heard a commotion. However, the real unusual thing about the clamor was that the people looked and sounded worried and scared, something that rarely happened in Charlestonburg. "What in the..." Larry leans his bike against his stall. "Jimbob, what's going on?" Jimbob was watching the commotion with intent. "Some guy was runnin' around with stolen goods. He looked like he was hardly in control of himself. Like his legs were carryin' him against his will." Larry looked puzzled. "Well that's odd..." "And," Jimbob continues, "The craziest part is that the police officers who were chasin' him started stealin' stuff with him. Like, anything they could get. Purses, watches, anything. They didn't want to, either, by the looks of it."

"So, it's like their legs were carrying them..." Larry ponders. "I wanted to go after 'em myself, but I didn't want either of our stands to be robbed," Jimbob explains. "Thanks, pal," Larry smiles. "So if they weren't in control, then who was?" Larry thinks for a moment. "Maybe it was their pants," Jimbob jokes, chuckling. "Hey... You might be right!" Larry turns to face Jimbob, starting to work out the mystery. "Really? I-I was joking." Jimbob looks up at Larry, considering how plausible his joke was. "Huh, maybe..." "Yeah, that's gotta be it! We're going on another adventure, Jimbob! We've got some evil pants to stop!"

As they were packing up their stalls, the man Jimbob had said started the stealing spree came running down the road and tripped. "Sir, are you okay?" Larry asked the man. "No!" He replied. "Something's going on. I work at a lab where we finally extracted pure evil essence. I must have spilled a little bit onto my pants when locking it away, because now they're evil! And it's spreading; fast, too, by the looks of it." Panting, the man stands up. "I'm Daryl, by the way." "Nice to meet you, Mr. Daryl," Larry resonds, nodding his head respectfully. "Now, I'm gonna go try to return all that stuff..." Daryl's voice fades away as he walks off. Larry looks at Jimbob, already forming a plan. "Let's pack. We've gotta set out as soon as possible."

"Way ahead of you, man," Jimbob replies as he kicks up the kickstand of his bike. Larry mounts his own bike and they set off. They lived fairly close, and had been friends for as long as they could remember, so when they got to Larry's house, Larry's parents were happy to see them both. "Oh, boys! Back so soon?" Larry's mother asked. "Hey, Mom. We can't talk much, we've got a problem to stop," Larry replies, stopping briefly to hug his parents. Mrs. MacWallace twists her lips into a smile as she speaks. "Another adventure? Do tell." Jimbob grins at her words and says, "Evil pants. And they're contagious. So, no big deal." He also huge Larry's parents before following Larry upstairs to pack for their trip.

They set down their backpacks on Larry's bed. "Alright, check list," Larry says as he goes over their adventure checklist. "Clothes, food, flashlight, self defense items, water, first aid kits, survival items." Jimbob grabs everything they would need. "Check, check, check, check, check, check, and check," he replies as he divides up the supplies. Larry puts his half in his backpack as Jimbob does the same with his half of the supplies. Larry makes sure to pack a few extra kilts, like he always did. "Got your notebook?" Larry asks. "Yep," Jimbob responds, tucking it into his backpack. "You?" "Right here," Larry replies, holding his notebook up before stowing it away in his bag as well.

The pair rush out of the house, saying goodbye to Larry's parents. To save time, Jimbob calls his parents to say that Team Dragontoes, aka Larry and Jimbob, were going on an adventure to stop evil pants. The boys ride through the city of Charlestonburg, scoping out the damage. It was worse than they thought. People were running around everywhere, stealing, vandalizing, and wreaking havoc. A few buildings were even on fire, though there were teams of firefighters everywhere. As Larry looked behind him to see that, on the other side of the street, some firefighters were struggling with a fire hydrant that was on fire, he also noticed something worrisome. "Uh, Jimbob, we have a problem..."

A bunch of people were chasing them, their legs carrying them while their arms flailed wildly. "Oh, fiddlesticks, we should get going!" Jimbob shouts to Larry, pedaling faster. Larry follows suit, speeding up. "Over here!" He calls out to Jimbob, making a left turn. They make twist after turn, eventually losing track of the group of people. "Whew!" Larry exclaims as he takes a look around. "Where are we?"

"We're on the bank of Lake Burl, I think," Jimbob replies. The bank was rocky, being covered with pebbles of all shapes and sizes. The two hopped off of their bikes and leaned them against one of the many empty crates on the shoreline. Larry sits on a crate and sets down his backpack. He grabs a water bottle and tosses one to Jimbob, who gladly accepts it, sitting down on a crate nearby. "So," Larry thinks aloud in between sips of water. "What do we know? The pants are evil, contagious, and they make people do bad things." Jimbob thinks as well. "All of their pants were controlling them, it was scary." He shudders at the thought. Larry looks out at the lake, pondering a solution. The water of the lake was lapping softly against the pebbly shore, and the air smelled slightly stale, which was probably because of the slight fog that had settled over the water in the afternoon dullness. Larry could see the forest that was behind his house. His and Jimbob's families would often go hiking.

Larry was brought out of his reminiscence by a swift kick to his back, knocking him off the crate and almost into the lake. "Oh no, I'm so sorry!" Jimbob exclaims. "I didn't mean to do that, I swear!" Larry got up and was about to retaliate when he heard Jimbob's words. "Oh boy..." He pieces the puzzle together. "Your pants! They've been infected with evil!" "First of all, they're shorts," Jimbob insists. Larry sighs irritatedly before responding, "They are, like, seven sizes too big, Jimbob! They are sold as shorts, sure, but on you, they are definitely pants!" The so-called shorts went all the way down to halfway down Jimbob's shin. The pockets were huge, and he had to wear a belt to keep them up. It looked kinda cool, but mostly ridiculous, but it wasn't like Jimbob cared.

"How do I stop it?" Jimbob asks, a bit panicked. "I don't want to kick you again!" Just then, a stray match fell out of Jimbob's pocket and truck against the rock, sending a spark flying that caused Jimbob's pants to catch on fire. He ran around, screaming, away from the lake for some reason, and up towards a derelict building on the edge of town. "Here!" Larry shouts as he throws Jimbob one of his spare kilts. Jimbob catches it and disappears behind the building, looking for a fire extinguisher. He comes back two minutes later, wearing the kilt and looking thoroughly embarrassed about not running to the lake. "Thanks... i guess I owe you five dollars," Jimbob says. "The spare kilt finally came in handy." He reaches into his bag, but Larry stops him. "Nah, it's alright. I'm just glad you're not hurt," he says. "You don't feel evil, right?" Jimbob thinks or a second. "No, I suppose I don't. That's quite a relief." He laughs slightly before gasping. "Larry, that's it! Getting everyone to wear kilts will stop the spread of the evil pants!"

Larry grins as well. "Excellent! Let's go up to Mr. Plink's kilt store and tell him! Team Dragontoes!" Larry starts dragging his bike up the bank. "If he's still around, that is," Jimbob reminds him as he follows. "Right... Well, we won't know unless we check!" Once they were on more level ground, they raced up through the Charlestonburg streets to the kilt shop, which was luckily still intact and open. Mr. Plink, who, like Larry, always wore a kilt, was looking quite bored, but lit up when he saw the boys. "Hello, boys!" Mr. Plink enthusiastically greeted them. "I haven't had a single customer all day, it's been quite boring." "Well, you're about to have a lot of sales," Larry replies. "The evil pants have been preading rapidly, but the evil doesn't spread to kilts!" "Wonderful!" Mr. Plink exclaims. "Well, then, let's get started!" He grabs some kilts along with Jimbob and Larry, and they rush through town, spreading the kilts to everyone.

After a long day of work, they had finally stopped the evil pants. As Team Dragontoes lies on Larry's bedroom floor, writing about their adventure, they laugh while recounting the day's events. "I think the title should be 'The Adventures of Larry and Jimbob: The Evil Pants Epidemic'," Larry says. "Perfect," Jimbob replies, writing the story title on the page. "Another win for Team Dragontoes!" "Huzzah!" Larry adds. The two laugh before going down to grab some dinner.

PLEASE KEEP THIS ON TUMBLR. DO NOT REPOST ELSEWHERE. THANK YOU!

#adventures of larry and jimbob #writing #stories #larry macwallace #jimbob johnson #gay

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awhispererinthedarkness · 1 year ago

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there used to be a farm near me with 5 scarecrows. it was quite odd, they were all in very different styles. It had been on sale, i think the owner had decided to move to the city? but it got bought by some recluse. it was odd, you'd rarely see him out of the house and never see him work the fields, but still they were somehow tilled, sown with seeds, and harvested.

Not that anybody minded. The old man was a miser and the few times I had seen him out, I'd wished I hadn't. I didn't pay too close attention to him, but what i did see i didn't like - he was rude, always smelled, and always wore the same disgusting pair of jeans, stained almost more green than blue from years of sweat and god knows what else.

I lived on top of another hill, opposite that of the farm. from my flat at the top of the building i could see right to it - but at night, no matter how clear it was, I could never make out the fields. I could sometimes make out the farmhouse but the fields were always covered in a thin mist.

one oddly clear night I couldn't sleep, so I just sat, staring out the window. over time, my eye was slowly drawn to the farm on the other hill. All of the lights in the farmhouse were on, and the fog shimmered ghostly in the light. the old man was sat on his doorstep, staring at the fog. once i noticed him I got my binoculars to see what was happening. as soon as i looked through them, his head turned. he was looking straight at me. It had to have just been a coincidence, there was no way he could've seen me in my dark room at that distance, but even now saying that just feels like lying to myself to feel better.

After staring in my direction for a few seconds, the old man stood up and walked slowly, but intently, into the fog. after half an hour all of the farmhouse lights suddenly switched off at once - they say a fuse bust. but the fog kept glowing. much more dimly now but it was still noticeably lighter than its surroundings. it dimmed more over the next couple of hours but i kept watching until the fog slowly dissipated with dawn. I never saw the old man leave the fog.

The old man was gone, and I had been the last to see him. I reported what I saw to the police - albeit changing some details to sound less... unnatural - and they began an investigation after confirming he really was missing. Eventually the search fizzled out, and they dropped the case. but it didn't matter. I had known from the moment the fog lifted what had happened to the old man. because there used to be a farm with 5 scarecrows near me. but now, it has 6.

#story #horror

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nancypullen · 2 years ago

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Nine Days Later...

Good grief, I posted about the powder room makeover and then disappeared. We’ve been busy around here. I’ve been doing lots of yard work and that makes me happy. I have high hopes. I’ve been cleaning up the tree line, raking fertilizer and soil into flowers beds, scattering zinnia seeds and sunflower seeds (cross your fingers) and generally getting ready for the blooming season. It’s weird not having a plant nursery nearby. There are a couple of small greenhouses, but right now they have mostly veggies, hanging baskets, and ferns. I’m on the hunt for a flat of red vinca and maybe some speedwell. Last week we drove into Dover to visit Home Depot. It’s nearly an hour trip and it looks mostly like this.

Loads of farms and everything is looking green. Hello, spring! There’s a Lowe’s closer to us, but there’s no sales tax in Delaware. Does it make sense to use extra gas to avoid sales tax? I guess it depends on how large of a purchase you’re making. For us, it’s fencing. I just want a strip of pretty fence in the back yard between us and the woodsy area. If we can get it done soon I can create a pretty flower bed in front of it. I’ve done my part. The mister bought me this little beauty and I spent two days taking out small trees and all manner of scrubby, weedy, bushes.

I have a fabulous chainsaw (it’s PINK!) but this was perfect for the job at hand. It came with two batteries, so no gas or power cords are involved. It’s lightweight but packs a punch. It zipped through everything I needed to zip through and in no time at all I had piles of trunks and branches for the town to pick up. It was a hot mess back there, and now it looks much tidier. I look like I fought off a mountain lion, but it’s done! I’ll share pics when the fence is up. Well, maybe sooner - as soon as the piles of tree remains get picked up. One individual who is enjoying that tree line is Stanley. He lounges under the birdfeeder and plays in the birdbath. He also drinks from the bird bath, but he spends a lot of time making ripples and chasing leaves around in the water.

That was pre-cleanup. I snapped it through the kitchen window. I don’t know Stanley’s real name, I just know that I worried about him all winter and then a couple of weeks ago he showed up wearing a collar bearing a last name and an address just two houses down. I may be responsible for his pot belly. I was just trying to get him through the cold months. Oops. But back to the yard - my little Jane Magnolia bloomed like crazy, even though she’s barely a yard high. I planted a lilac bush and a beauty berry bush (for the birdies). I put some Morning Glory seeds in the ground near the corner of the porch, hoping that it twines along the porch railings and offers pretty blue blooms. Mickey hung a birdhouse in the Crape Myrtle tree for me, that’s also at the corner of the porch. The front porch is in an L shape and I’ve claimed that short side as my own. That’s where the tree is, that’s where I’ll hang a hummingbird feeder, that’s where the lilac is planted and where I hope the Morning Glory vines will bloom. Mickey put a little wicker loveseat there for me and I can sit in the shade and listen to bird song and smell the gardens. I’m finding my way home again. It takes a lot of hard work to carve out a patch of paradise, but we’re getting there. It’ll be years before most of what I’m planting matures, but by then I’ll be grateful. Heck, I’m grateful now. I’m also very grateful for my sister. She drove over last week and brought a car load of dolls and doll paraphernalia. Her daughter was into all of the American Girl stuff and she no longer wanted any of it. Two lovely dolls, beds, clothes, all manner of sports equipment (even a pup tent) , a salon chair for getting their hair done. There are even books! I took some time to empty the closet in the grandgirl’s room to make way for all of this wonderful treasure. While I was organizing the bounty a certain kitty claimed the bunk beds.

She fell into a deep sleep, so I saved the beds for last. I should have poked her, gotten in her face, sat on her chest, and cried. That’s what she does to me in the morning. Anyway, I’m grateful for my very generous sister. Our little miss will have a ball with all of this.

Did I mention how much fun the grandgirl had with the Egg-mazing?

You just pop a hard boiled egg into that egg-shaped spot and turn on the motor. It spins the egg while you apply color. These eggs were created by a 5 year old!

Prettiest eggs in town! Easter already feels like a month ago. We’ve got a lot to look forward to - blooming season, grilling season, beach season, and more! MY two sweet sons have planned a trip for July and will be flying off to Berlin and then to Prague. I know they’ll have a blast. They’ll probably visit plenty of spy museums and WWII sites. I want them to go to the Lennon Wall in Prague and write, “My mom said to be nice.” Sorry for the boring post but I’ve been spending my days cutting down trees and digging in the dirt. If it kills me I’m going to make every corner of this place beautiful. Then I’ll sit on my little loveseat on the porch, under the shade of a tree full of singing birds, and enjoy the heck out of it. Come sit with me! I’ll make lemonade and finger sandwiches and we’ll talk about nothing and everything. Doesn’t that sound nice? Alright, I’m calling it a night. I’ve got some crafty stuff in the works and I’ll share that with you tomorrow. For now I’m off to a bubble bath and then I’m getting under the covers with a cat and a book. Livin’ on the edge. I hope that spring is filling your world with delight right now, wherever you are. I know some areas are getting winter’s last blast, but I’ll bet that daffodils are right behind it. Keep the faith! Stay safe, stay well, take good care.

XOXO, Nancy

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