#farm all

[justalittlesolarpunk]

It’s solar and wind and tidal and geothermal and hydropower.

It’s plant-based diets and regenerative livestock farming and insect protein and lab-grown meat.

It’s electric cars and reliable public transit and decreasing how far and how often we travel.

It’s growing your own vegetables and community gardens and vertical farms and supporting local producers.

It’s rewilding the countryside and greening cities.

It’s getting people active and improving disabled access.

It’s making your own clothes and buying or swapping sustainable stuff with your neighbours.

It’s the right to repair and reducing consumption in the first place.

It’s greater land rights for the commons and indigenous peoples and creating protected areas.

It’s radical, drastic change and community consensus.

It’s labour rights and less work.

It’s science and arts.

It’s theoretical academic thought and concrete practical action.

It’s signing petitions and campaigning and protesting and civil disobedience.

It’s sailboats and zeppelins.

It’s the speculative and the possible.

It’s raising living standards and curbing consumerism.

It’s global and local.

It’s me and you.

Climate solutions look different for everyone, and we all have something to offer.

[kenobihater]

after literal years i finally got around to downloading a pdf of the wipers times, an unsancitioned satitical british trench magazine circulated among the troops in france from 1916-1918 after the fortuitous discovery of a printing press. i have approximately five million other things i need to read so idk when i'll be able to devote much time to it, and i gotta pick up a proper copy bc it's missing at least salient no 4 vol 2. that said? i'm genuinely laughing at what i've skimmed so far

[breesperez139]

Dc x Dp Prompt #6

“I’m a twin”, Damian said one night. He could feel the narrowed eyes of his family drilling holes on his back in disbelief. Not that he could blame them. Damian had never so much as implied being raised with a companion, much less a sibling.

“I had a brother”. Damian paused to recollect himself. He had not said his brother’s name out loud in over 8 years.

“His name was… Danyal”. Damian hated the way his voice wavered, but he could not help it. Danyal was everything to him, his other half. Their heart beat as one and when one heart stopped beating, the other one died with it. At least until his family put his heart on metaphorical life support without ever realizing.

“Where is he now?” His father asked, voice filled with knowing grief and a hint of betrayal. It had in fact been 6 years since Damian first showed up on his doorstep.

“Up there”. All eyes shifted towards the specific star he was pointing to. “Right before he died, he promised me he’d guide me from the stars. Unfortunately, the stars are not visible in Gotham, so my brother is unable to be of much help unless I leave the city.”

“Your brother is Polaris, the North Star?” Tim questioned warily, most likely in attempts to not offend him. Damian was aware of how stupid it sounded, but Danyal had promised, and his brother never broke his promises.

“Yes. Danyal is with the stars now, just as he always wanted”

[lizardkingeliot]

Sam Reid in Inside Interview with the Vampire Season 2

[angoragoats]

Mother and newborn

[tcustodisart]

Stardew Valley is Baldur's Gate 4 if you romanced Shadowheart.

[sandeewithtwoe]

I’m not good at drawing cows please forgive me

Horror belongs to sour-apple-studios

Farm belongs to GuinongTale_AU

Transcript:

Horror: Alright, that’s enough work for today

Horror: Hey, Farm! Are you almost done with- uh…

Farm: Ah! There you are!

Farm: Please excuse my gaster blaster, I take my eyes off her for 5 seconds and she goes off doing her own thing

Horror: THAT’S your gaster blaster?

Farm: Uh yeah? Doesn’t yours look like this too?

Horror: …Heh, no, not at all

Farm: (He really seems to like her. Are cows his favourite animal?)

Horror: <- Is planning so many pranks on Cross right now

[kagoutiss]

pelican town, ‘72

[durtycuntrygurls]

Danni Ashe

[andengeu]

"Don't you think this farm could use a good cat?"

I've had this one on drafts since feb lol I'm open for comms btw!

[hedgehog-moss]

Look, friends.

Do you think this is a post about my adorable baby succulents? No. Look harder.

It's about the GIANT HOLE IN MY FENCE that I had to patch up with cardboard.

I can't blame Pampérigouste for this one; the brutish nature of the damage is not consistent with her usual modus operandi. Pampe outsmarts locks like Arsène Lupin; she doesn't charge at fences like a bull who saw a red cloth. This is Pampe Pondering A Fence Problem:

No, the damage to my fence looked a lot more mindless this time. Boorish. Boar-ish. I'm blaming a boar. A deer would have destroyed the whole thing rather than just the lower half. Note that there is not a single tuft of llama wool on the damaged wire mesh.

(Note no.2: the boar's smile was originally meant to be a tusk but it really just looks like a sardonic smile)

I brought some chicken wire to patch up the hole—but there wasn't enough of it. Then it started raining and I felt persecuted and decided to just cover the hole with cardboard and go have my morning coffee and get back to this later.

This is not an Innocent Pampe post; there is no such thing. My temporary cardboard solution lasted 8 to 10 minutes. I'm not sure exactly when she got out, but by the time I went back outside to repair the fence there was a Pampe-shaped hole in the cardboard.

(Not really; she just kind of lifted or ate a corner then wormed her way through the very small opening. I think.) (See, this is how you recognise a Pampe escape: you're not entirely clear on what went down, you just know there was a llama inside and now there is a llama outside.)

It was still raining and I didn't feel like going after her, plus it felt pointless to bring her back in her pasture before the fence was repaired, so I went in the barn to look for my tools and rummage through leftover pieces of previously-destroyed fences, hoping to find something the right size.

Then I heard Pampelune's hyena shriek, aka the llama alarm call. It was followed by:

horrified chicken screams and frantic feather noises; the soundtrack of a violent fox attack

infuriated barking from Pandolf

very loud panicked braying from Pirlouit

basically, chaos.

I ran outside just in time to see Pampe emerging from the woods at a full gallop, pursued by a bear. I didn't immediately identify the animal that was chasing her as the giant dog that he was, because he was running with a weird gait, with his legs going everywhere like he was frolicking at top speed (I now know that this dog is a puppy that has learnt to run just a few months ago, but that didn't occur to me at the time because this puppy is the size of a calf.)

Pampe was running towards the cardboard through which she had escaped and she managed to squeeze through her small corner hole again (I assume—there were trees blocking my line of sight and I only saw her again once she was in the pasture, running for her life along with the other 2 llamas + donkey.) Meanwhile, the dog didn't see the corner hole and tried to power through the cardboard much like a boar, or was carried away by his momentum and didn't brake in time; I don't know. In any case, when I reached him, he was stuck.

My large piece of cardboard was tied to the fence posts and still holding strong, but the middle was a bit soggy with rain and not too solid, so the dog's head went right through it. The rest of his body didn't.

He could have probably finished breaking the cardboard quite easily, but for some reason he instantly gave up. On life. By the time I got there the dog was half-in and half-out of the pasture and he looked defeated. Which made my piece of cardboard look like a mediaeval beheading apparatus with just a hole for the head.

I went to lock an angry Pandolf in the barn and checked on the chickens along the way (ruffled & offended but fine); I was hoping the dog would figure out how to extricate his head from the cardboard in the meantime. He did not. I tried to call him in a friendly tone (from behind) to encourage him to free his head by stepping back, but the concept of taking a couple of steps backwards in order to extract his head from the hole might as well have been advanced engineering. He clearly had no idea where his head was, where his body was, how to make the two a coherent whole again, and he started whining pitifully.

I untied the rope I had used to attach the cardboard to the fence posts, then wriggled the piece of cardboard a bit to try and free the dog's head. The dog was alarmed by the wriggling and took several steps back—but I didn't manage to hold on to the cardboard so it just moved with the dog. He clumsily ran away, taking the cardboard with him, wearing it around his neck like the world's largest cone of shame.

He immediately got stuck between two trees.

I was starting to find the situation hilarious, but the poor dog did not—he lay down and started making sad broken noises like a malfunctioning dog-robot. He didn't look very threatening but he was still a very big (and stressed) dog so I felt a bit wary of touching his head to help him, and decided to run home to get a box cutter. I figured I could easily rid him of most of the cardboard and leave him with just a soggy cardboard collar that would soon fall apart. I heard my landline phone ringing from afar and ran faster, and it was one of my nearest neighbours, the retired lady who lives on the plateau.

"I've been trying to reach you!! I saw your llama in my garden earlier, I was going to give her a little treat—" (she loves Pampe, for some reason) "—but then my dog saw her too."

I know this woman's dog—he's a tiny thing with fragile nerves who thinks the whole world is out to get him, so I asked anxiously, "Did Pampe scare your dog?" and she said "Oh no! Domino is here with me; but I have a new dog. His name is Texas."

I thought of the gigantic puppy currently sobbing in my woods, held prisoner by two trees, a self-inflicted cone of shame and his total lack of reasoning skills.

"Yes", I said. "I've met Texas."

The old lady asked worriedly if he'd scared Pampe ("Il est un peu zinzin" she said—he's a bit crazy. "I wanted to call him Rex, but then I met him and thought—Texas!!") I told her I was pleased with her dog for scaring Pampe, because she needs to learn that her pasture is her only hope for safety in this cold uncaring world and as soon as she steps out of it she returns to her lowly status as a prey animal. Then I ended the phone call because I was worried both about Texas and about the large hole in my fence. Thankfully all my animals were still terrified and hiding far, far away from Texas.

Texas actually managed to free himself before I attempted to cut the cardboard, but he still thought of me as his saviour and was very happy to follow me through the woods back to his owner's place. Before we left I propped up the cardboard against the damaged fence, and despite the hole in the middle no llamas escaped in my absence; I think the whole area still smelled like Texas and fear.

I'll admit I was initially tempted to leave Texas with his head stuck in the cardboard in a more permanent capacity in order to patch the hole in my fence with this amazing anti-Pampe Cerberus. Like this

(I know this artistic rendering makes my llamas look like frightened carrots and my donkey like a bunny but I will not be taking constructive criticism at this time)

[thestuffedalligator]

The trees lumbered across the field.

It was a weird thing to watch. When a tree settled to rest or sniff at an interesting crocus, she could almost believe that it had been rooted to the spot for years; then the huge body would raise up on spidery roots and trundle forward with stupid placidity to follow the herd. When they all had settled to rest in the morning light, it was like the field had been turned into a misty woodland in seconds.

A sapling bounded up to her and sniffed at her wrist before bounding off again, spindly roots kicking with delight.

"It's pretty simple work," said the farmer. "We let them out to get some fresh air and sunlight, check them for blight. Every so often we have to lay out some manure, but that's pretty much it."

She watched the sapling. It stumbled on its own limbs and limped into the shade of its mother.

"It's pretty similar to raising cattle," said the farmer. "We raise them up for a couple years, and when they get big enough we take them down to the slaughterhouse and have them butchered."

"Wouldn't you send them to a logging mill or something?"

"Nope."

A chickadee whirred through the air and lighted onto a branch.

"There's good money in it, too," said the farmer. "There's a lot of demand for certain cuts of tree meat."

"You mean wood?"

"Nope."

There was a blur of branches. The tree ate the chickadee.

[gummybearstastelikesadness]

When Danny enters the Fenton portal for the very first time, he still trips and shocks himself but at the same time damages the inside of the portal enough that it can’t sustain itself past the point of changing Danny’s molecules.

The electricity and damage done to both Danny and the portal isn’t something Danny, Sam, and Tucker can cover up and his parents find out immediately. They’re more concerned about their son then the portal (they have the blueprints for the portal and can rebuild it later but can’t replace their son if something happened to him) and go through a lot of things emotions regarding the existence of ghost human hybrids.

Danny’s new biology could easily be passed as meta human traits. Unfortunately President Lex Luther had just recently passed laws against meta humans. Meaning they can’t risk people find out about Danny’s new powers, at all. The Fentons decide that Danny should live with one of Maddie or Jacks relatives off grid until he can control his new abilities better.

luckily Jacks sister, Martha, and her husband have experience with a super powered child and after their son moved to the city could probably use a hand on their farm. All Jack needed to do was call.

[violent138]

Martha, Alfred, Bruce and Clark, and John sitting in the kitchen and trying to have a peaceful conversation, when inhuman screeching from upstairs is followed by a stampede of footsteps, before Dick races down into the kitchen, running frantically, empty water gun in hand. 

"What is going on?" Bruce barks, with absolutely zero effect because Jason is there a second later and tackles him through the net door on the patio. 

Martha's utterly charmed watching Bruce drop the exceedingly polite guest act as he scrambled out to the cold patio to scold the gremlins.

Clark shook his head, as the drill sergeant Batman voice filtered into the house.

Both boys are grinning when they enter, still bickering, utterly unabashed. But they do apologize to Martha and John about the door.

"I'm very sorry about that. I will pay for the door." Bruce says, dropping back into his seat.

"You raised a good one, Alfred," Martha said, patting the butler's hand.

Clark grinned and Bruce frowned, confused.

[lunarcrown]

Old stains and new stains

FINAL CHAPTER IS OUUUT