#halito

[clieodonto]

Segredo para uma Boca Saudável e um Hálito Fresco: Dentista na Vila Mariana

Descubra o segredo para uma boca saudável e um hálito fresco com a melhor dentista na Vila Mariana.

A chave para um hálito fresco está em cuidar da sua saliva. Agende uma consulta com a renomada Dra Erika Hernandes, dentista na Vila Mariana, e descubra as melhores estratégias para estimular a produção de saliva, neutralizar odores indesejados e garantir uma boca saudável.

Nossa equipe especializada vai identificar as causas do seu mau hálito e desenvolver um tratamento personalizado. Com uma higiene bucal adequada, visitas regulares ao dentista e dicas valiosas, você terá o hálito fresco que sempre desejou.

[pikachuslut]

Halito Miku!

Happy Pride I still draw sometimes!

Miku inspired by colonial Choctaw clothing and beadwork, her hair is made to look like sweet grass braids! The costume is more Lolita inspired and cropped to nod to her original design, most Choctaw dresses are full length but Miku must slay I fear

[funeralshawls]

now that i’m out of panic mode and da dog is healthy im gonna make a more coherent post.

halito <3 happy indigenous ppl’s day!! take a chance to help out a black chahta faeree w a surprise psych bill!! lmao, everytime i think i’m finally starting to stabilize, im hit with a reminder/debt from things that just made shit worse! :3 it still doesn’t add up to me, but the story is : last year b4 my insurance / medicaid switched, i was paying a certain amount for psych visits. apparently the amount was wrong (no explanation why) they’re just now catching up to it, and now billing everybody. so now i have a surprise $363 i owe that already went to an emergency vet visit! long story short i’d be eternally grateful for any help/share. im already trying to save along with paying of ANOTHER psych and dental bill. yakoke for everything and for being understanding. hope everyone was able to have some peace on the holiday ❤️💛🤍🖤

[bootlegdemon]

Sooo I'm gonna make a little update post to introduce myself, for Native American Heritage Month

Halito

I'm Tate I'm an artist from the Pomo and Choctaw nations

I do art for games, comics, and other media!

[johnwicklover1999]

halito! remember to wish your indigenous friends a happy indigenous peoples day ♥️ if you can, donate to indigenous peoples across the world! whether it be donation to tribal governments, or money to aid a tribe, government and congressional issues, a local individual in need of aid, a native artist, a local ndn store, restoration efforts, please donate to us if you can ♥️

yakoke and have a good day! ♥️

[upthewitchypunx]

Help my friend (and old Tumblr mutual) model her beautiful beadwork at New York Fashion Week!

[weirdestbooks]

Kindred Spirits (Wattpad | Ao3)

Ireland and Choctaw meet in person for the first time, requested by Im_so_fucking_tired

May, 1990

County Mayo, Republic of Ireland

Contae Mhaigh Eo, Poblacht na hÉireann

Ireland exhaled a shaky breath as he looked out at the people attending the Famine Walk. He was leaning on his cane, as he wanted to participate without his wheelchair. The cane's familiar presence helped Ireland feel grounded. 

While Ireland’s people today understand the trauma of an Gorta Mór, they didn’t witness it as Ireland did. Standing here, Ireland could close his eyes and see his people, the ones who originally completed this walk on that harsh winter day. Ireland might not have been there himself, but he saw enough of an Gorta Mór to know what it had to have looked like.

The starving, the sick, and the bodies. 

Ireland shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to push aside the memories. He didn’t want to think about them. He knew if he did, he would be overwhelmed by them, and he didn’t have his children here to help him through that.

“The memories hurt, don’t they?” Ireland heard an unfamiliar masculine voice from behind him ask. He had an accent, one that sounded somewhat like America’s but wasn’t. Maybe a regional American one?

Ireland turned around, taking some of his weight off his cane. Hissing slightly, more weight was put onto his bad leg and brace there.

The man's features surprised Ireland. He wasn’t a human. His flag was purple, with a yellow seal in the center. The seal was yellow, with a red bow, quiver, and arrow in the center. Outlining the seal was a blue band, separated from the yellow and purple by a green braided-looking line. In the blue band were the words, ‘The Great Seal of the Choctaw Nation.’

The Choctaw Nation. A Native American Nation. 

What was he doing in Ireland’s country?

“Dia duit,” Ireland said, not sure what else to say. He had never expected to meet this man, although Ireland certainly had much to say to him. But words failed him, and he was silent. The Choctaw Nation smiled.

“Halito, Ear-ree,” he said. Ireland laughed at Choctaw’s attempt to say his name in Gaeilge. 

“It’s Éire. That’s how you pronounce my name.” Ireland said. The Choctaw Nation looked embarrassed.

“Oh, my apologies. I–I didn’t realize,” he said, his voice flustered. Ireland smiled.

“Don’t worry about it. Your trying to speak it means enough,” he said, smiling broadly, feeling the happy flutters in his chest that always appeared when he heard another nation speak his language. After so many years of England and Britain trying to beat his language out of him, so many years of being told it was useless, hearing a nation try to speak it was amazing. 

The Choctaw Nation smiled. He seemed just as unsure of what to say as Ireland did, but his smile seemed to communicate more than words ever could—it communicated understanding, much more than words could say. 

However, colonized peoples always seemed to understand more about each other than they could say. Words were hard, but understanding wasn’t. 

“Why have you come?” Ireland asked, hoping to break the silence.

“I came with some of my leaders. We heard about the Famine Walk, and we decided to come because during your famine, we—” Ireland cut him off.

“I remember,” He stated plainly. 

“You remember?” The Choctaw Nation asked, looking surprised. Ireland blinked, also surprised. Had he really expected Ireland to forget that?

“Why would I forget?” Ireland asked. He never forgot the countries who chose to help him during that time. Ireland never forgot the groups of impoverished people who helped him. Why would he forget the people who showed him more compassion than Britain ever did?

And Ireland remembered the Choctaw’s donation very well. They were just like him in many ways, and even when they had little, they still chose to help Ireland. Ireland won’t forget kindness like that.

If The Choctaw Nation had looked at a loss of words before, he looked even more at a loss now. Did Ireland's remembering really surprise him that much? Ireland shifted positions, readjusting the way he was using his cane. Ireland had been standing up for too long, and his knee was starting to protest the weight of his body.

“Are you alright?” Ireland asked, starting to get concerned. That seemed to break The Choctaw Nation out of his shock, and he nodded.

“I’m not used to being remembered like that, especially not by your people. Especially not by…I…do your…I expected your people to forget. I didn’t even think…I…it's amazing that you do,” he said. Ireland chuckled.

“I don't think it’s amazing that I remember. I have no reason to forget. What is amazing, however, is the fact that you decided to help. You needed that money.” Ireland said. The Choctaw Nations titled his head, dark brown eyes showing warmth and amusement.

“So did you, Éire. My people were struggling, yes, but yours were dying. Like mine had. We wanted to ease your pain. We knew what it was like. And it's not just something you ignore, that you don’t try to help.” he said. 

“Go raibh maith agat. That means–”

“I remember.” The Choctaw Nation said with a cheeky grin. Ireland grinned back, laughing slightly.

“Haváí gave you my message then?”  he asked. 

“She did.”

“Then why did you think I would forget?”

“It’s been a long time since 1847.” The Choctaw Nation said. Ireland nodded.

“Indeed it has been,” Ireland said, his hand drifting down towards his knee brace as he rubbed the fabric. Things have changed a lot since then. 

“What happened to your leg, Éire, if you don't mind me asking?” The Choctaw Nation said that the movement of Ireland’s hand was probably catching his attention. Ireland flinched at the memories, phantom pains running through his knee, mixing with the actual chronic pain he had there. Ireland hissed in pain, closing his eyes.

Then Ireland sighed.

“The cost of independence is a lot,” Ireland said, tears in his eyes. He only wished his athair could have been there to see independence achieved. It was hard adjusting to being independent while adjusting to the fact that Ireland would never walk normally again alone, to life with one eye alone. But Ireland endured. His scars are a tribute to what he survived, and Ireland wouldn’t give them up for anything.

“But it was worth it.” The Choctaw Nation responded. Ireland nodded.

“It is always worth it to fight for yourself and your people.” Ireland said, “Now, enough sad talk. We are both old men, and I think we should swap some happier stories.”

The Choctaw Nation’s lips twitched, and he nodded.

“That sounds fun, Éire.” He said. Ireland limped over and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

“Good. I want to make sure you have fun while you visit my country, so long as you return the favor when I visit your nation,” Ireland said. 

“You want to visit my nation?”

“Of course I do! You’re a nation, and part of being a nation includes having relations with other countries. You came to visit me, so I visit you. Diplomacy! And friendship.” Ireland said. The Choctaw Nation smiled, slightly teary-eyed.

Ireland smiled back. He was glad to finally got to meet the nation who helped him. 

He hoped they would be able to meet with each other more in the future. 

Good allies are hard to find.

[onesaltyerik]

(Halito! You may have noticed I archived this piece a few min ago and have re uploaded a modified version of it. I have recently been taught that the stripe on the chin was actually a specific tattoo used by Inuit and other North American Indigenous peoples, a tattoo that was banned due to colonial beliefs. As far as we know, viking warpaint did not use the chin stripe and while this image is fanart and fantasy, as a Choctaw I do not want to continue perpetuating the incorrect usage of this tattoo when my brothers and sisters are still persecuted for wearing it. Yakoke for your understanding. And I apologise for using the wrong warpaint pattern.)Finally finished the Ouroboros Technoblade design! Heavuly influenced by a mixture of bronze age celtic and early viking era in terms of the warpaint, neck torque, and cloak pins (they're supposed to look like wolves and boars cause I'm a sucker for details like that).

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

For @gothicsprinkles who wanted a little Paz/Raga fluff and I hope this can ease the pain of ‘that episode’ a little...

-

Two times Raga laughed at Paz having a bad day and one time she didn't

1. 

Corin and the kid stay behind on the ship to keep the Razor Crest safe from Jawas, which Din had become unreasonably paranoid about for some reason, while Din, Paz and Raga head into the village to check up on the rumor about a Beskar spear being on display in a temple there.

Raga is bored, trailing behind a bit as Paz and Din's continuous bickering is just annoying her today and gives her a vicious urge to punish them both for being such idiots.

The boys can't decide on who gets to enter through the city gate first, definitely first grade idiots, and they end up standing under the arch, snarling at each other and refusing to back off from the other encroaching on their personal space until they're half an inch from a keldabe.

“Welcome, visitors!” A voice greets them. It is a cheerful young man with thick black hair and gorgeous mauve eyes that quickly fill with confusion as the two Mandalorians stay almost-kissing rather than look over at him.

Raga has almost caught up with them, ready smack some sense into their helmets, when the welcome-guy saves her entire day, week and possibly month, by saying; “Oh, you are newly weds?”

Ah, she remembers reading about it, how this place with its big temple is a known spot for the locals to visit on their honeymoon to get blessings from their gods on their marriage.

Paz and Din both inhale sharply, pull back even sharper, but neither get to say anything before Raga emerges between them and places her left hand on Din's shoulder and her right hand on Paz' shoulder. “Yes.” She says, with great ease and complete solemness. “Yes, they are.”

The t-visors snap over to stare at her and Raga can 'feel' their disbelief and outrage. It's beautiful.

“Welcome, welcome! And congratulations!” The welcoming-guy blurts out, all smiles and politeness again. He focuses on her again. “And you are?”

Raga lets go of the boys and steps forward, placing a humble hand on her breastplate. “The guy in blue is Paz. The guy in grey is Din. My name is Raga and I'm Din's sister. I always wanted to visit this temple and they were kind enough to let me come along on their honeymoon.”

There is a click as the private line between her and Paz activates and there is an angry hiss of; “What the hell?!” Followed by another click and Din's voice snarling; “Raga, I'm going to kill you.”

Raga can't stop grinning. This is one of the best days of her life.

“Allow me to lead the way.” The welcome-guy gestures them to follow. “I will show you where the temple is, the housing where you will be staying the night and I will inform the elders that another couple will be joining the fertility dance this evening.”

Raga nods, following him. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”

She honestly cannot decide on what makes her laugh the hardest; when she gets Paz and Din to hold hands for most of their stay, when they end up having to dance together with a bunch of other newly weds (Paz constantly snarling that Din is a horrible dancer and Din barking back that Paz keeps stepping on his feet), or the utter rage radiating from the boys when she's given a luxury hut to herself while they have to share a... love-shack. (Paz keeps complaining that Din is over on his side of the bed while Din insists that it is Paz who is over on his side.)

There is no Beskar spear in the temple, but Raga will cherish this place for the rest of her life.

2.

Raga is bored. She's been stuck in the Covert for months with absolutely nothing of interest happening. She envies Din his freedom...

Stalking towards the training room, aiming to burn off a little energy, Raga barely notices Halito waiting in the hallway.

“Raga.” Halito hurries after her. “Wait. Stop.”

Raga grunts, stalking onwards. She's not in the mood for small talk.

“Listen, I know that despite my offer to you, Vizla somehow managed to convince you to say the vows with him, but...” Halito has to trot to keep up with her. “But the guy is a douche!”

Raga grins. She knows Paz can be a giant douche, but she likes that about him because she can be an even bigger one.

“I'm a much better fighter than him.” Halito claims in a fit of unfounded confidence. “I'm not scared of Paz Vizla. I would happily fight him!”

“Okay.” Raga replies, busy planning her work-out.

Halito slams his fist against his breastplate in a show of gusto and runs off somewhere not there.

Good. That means she has some peace and quiet to do her training.

And after that, Raga kind of forgets about the whole thing.

It's three days later when Paz enters the room and pulls off his helmet to show her a rather confused expression on his face. “There is something seriously wrong with Halito...”

Lying on the bed, propped up by a buch of pillows, reading a book so old it's threatening to fall apart between her hands, Raga tilts her head curiously to signal him to explain.

“The guy has been jumping out of closets and ceiling vents and once out of a stove to attack me. He even hid under the stairs and tried to bite me yesterday. Hell, I think he chipped a tooth on my leg.” Paz is definitely puzzled by this odd behavior. “I mean, I'm actually getting bored of trouncing him again and again, but the guy insists on fighting me for some reason.”

Oh. Right. That. Raga grins.

Paz frowns. “What did you do?”

“I didn't do anything.” Shrugging with slightly overdone innocence, Raga closes the book and places it on the wobbly table next to the bed. “He was not happy about our marriage and declared he was going to fight you, probably so I would divorce you when you lost.”

Paz scowls. “That little shit...”

Raga lifts a coy eyebrow and scans Paz from head to toe with a shameless grin. “As you've trounced him so far, I guess we're still married then. Good. I was getting used to your snoring.”

“I'm going to kill him.” Paz growls, puts on his helmet and stalks out of the room.

Diving for her helmet, Raga puts it on and hurries after him. She is not going to miss out on this show.

Paz finds Halito in the common room and doesn't hesitate, merely marches up behind him. And when the guy turns around, he is greeted by Paz' helmet slamming down on his so hard the sound echoes through the Covert and the impact sends him crashing to the floor.

“Get up!” Paz growls, as if the groaning and squirming man on the ground is currently physically able to. “You want to fight me? Let's go. Come on!”

Grinning, Raga crosses her arms and settles to watch. She's joined by every other Mandalorian who heard the commotion and knows there is entertainment to be had when Paz is involved. Soon bets are being taken and credits pool into an impressive pot for the lucky winner.

Halito might be an idiot but at least Raga isn't bored anymore.

3.

It starts with old man Vizla delivering several sharp comments Paz' way, which Raga knows cut deep as he desperately wants to live up to his father's expectations. It is followed up with Paz and Din getting into a verbal fight, a nasty one that Raga knows has Paz' gut tied up in knots and aching, then continues with their dear leader refusing to send Paz out on a bounty hunter mission and choosing someone else instead, before it ends with a lovely mix of Paz' jetback malfunctioning (Causing him to break his arm.) and Sungodt muttering why he couldn't be more like Dez. As far as shitty days go, this is definitely a doozy, Raga can tell. Paz is hurting. He's hurting a lot.

Paz can be grouchy on a good day, but whenever he goes quiet, too quiet, Raga knows he's struggling with a different kind of pain than the one he's got in his healing arm. She knows and she doesn't like it.

From the very beginning of their friendship as children, Raga never did like to see Paz sad and withdrawn. And she hates it when he shies away from her.

“Paz, our room, now.” Raga orders. She doesn't wait for him to refuse, which he will if given the chance, merely stalks off. Time for some drastic action.

It takes longer than usual for him to show up, enough time passes that Raga considers sending a threatening message for him to get his fine ass to their room as ordered, but then the door beeps, slides open and Paz walks in to join her in their room.

“What?” He sighs as the door closes behind him, clearly not in the mood for a fight. He just sounds tired.

Raga takes off her helmet and clambers on to the bed to get comfortable before patting the surface next to her. “C'mere.”

Paz doesn't move. “I don't-”

“Come. Here.” Raga adds a little strength to her words.

Paz sighs again, but he walks over and sits down on the bed. “What?” He asks again.

“Take your helmet off.”

Another hesitation, but he removes it. Paz slowly runs one hand over his hair while he reaches out with the other and places his helmet on the table next to the bed. “Okay, what is it?” He looks over at her with weary eyes and appears to be expecting her to criticize him for something too.

Raga frowns. Dank farrik, how she hates that there is no trace of his usual arrogance. “Paz, it's just a shitty day.”

“I know.” Paz replies, trying to smile, but the smile is off and it doesn't reach his eyes.

Raga grabs a hold of him and maneuvers Paz to lie down next to her and rest his head on her chest. Once she has him where she wants him and is fairly certain he won't try to escape, she starts running her fingers through his hair in a slow, gentle motion. “Do you know why I went from freaking out about you having the hots for me to realizing I wanted to marry you?”

Paz tenses up. Either he doesn't like to think about her reaction, her harsh words in particular, or he's nervous about what changed her mind. “No.”

Raga continues to draw her fingers through his hair. “I freaked out because I didn't want to lose you. Not because I thought you'd cut me off if I didn't feel the same, but because you were in love with me and that meant everything we had would be ruined. Because I knew love always ends in heartbreak and hatred.” She can feel a slightly bitter smile emerge. “My parents fought all the time. So did yours, remember? The tales we were told as children were of couples who fought each other as much as the enemy and we were told that was the Way. I thought love meant it had to be loud, messy and painful. It never occurred to me that it could be different because that's what I've had with everyone else.”

Paz stays silent while he listens as she continues to explain.

“But with you... It's different. I laugh harder with you. I feel more myself with you. I can breathe.” Raga studies the man curled up to her and feels warm contentment spread through her veins “When something goes wrong, or right, or I hear a funny joke, or see something bizarre, you're the first person I want to talk to about it. Your face is the first thing I want to see in the mornings and the last thing I want to see before I fall asleep at night. Your hands on me feel like a reward each and every time. You always make me feel calm and that things will be okay.” She runs her fingers through his hair a final time before letting her touch linger on his neck. “Home will never be a place to me, home will always be you. So, never mind what Dez says. Never mind what Din says. Never mind our enigmatic leader or Sungodt. Don't listen to them and don't you dare change; I like you just as you are. My best friend and my riduur. My home. My Paz. My Way.”

A faint shiver goes through Paz' big body and he slides an arm around her to squeeze himself a little tighter against her. He even hides his face against her stomach. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't have to because she knows.

Let the Galaxy do its worst, let other people say and do stupid stuff, it doesn't matter. As long as she has Paz and Paz has her, they will look after each other and nothing can really hurt them. Together they can handle absolutely everything and not even death will dare to challenge them.

Raga grins at the mere thought of how awesome their children will be, and how their little ones will have a father who will love them, be a home for them and who they will be damn proud of.

Today might be a shit day, but the future will be wonderful.

[littlefeather-wolf]

NATIVE AMERICAN GREETINGS IN DIFFERENT LANGUAGES

Native American greetings to impress your friends and family!

Did you know that at least 40% percent of the 7,000 languages used worldwide are endangered ?

There are tremendous benefits to learning a second language.

50 Native American Greetings ...

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HOW TO SAY HELLO IN DIFFERENT NATIVE AMERICAN LANGUAGES ... ✊🏼 ...

O'-Si-Yo'- Cherokee

Halito- Choctaw

Hau- Dakota and Lakota Sioux

Buzhu- Objiwa Chippewa

Apaa- Yupik Eskimo

Ya'at'eeh- Dene Navajo

guw'aadzi -Rio Grand Keresan

cama-i/ waqaa (hi) – Yup’ic

hè– Lenape

Ma-da-way- Comanche

Keshhi- Zuni

Shap kaij- Pima

Ɂedlanet’e- Dene

Hawé- Quapaw

way’ – Salish

Hę̄r's cē – Muskogean

Ba'ax ka wa'alik?- Mayan

Nya:wëh sgë:nö’- Seneca

ᑕᓂᓯ (Tanisi), ᐙᒋᔮ (Waachiyaa)- Cree

Kúhaʔahat – Caddo

maiku – Ute

Aho- Ponca

Behne- Shoshoni

Marúawe- Comanche

*haku- Chumash

Ahó (m>m)- Omaha

Weyt-kp- Shuswap

Haho – Winnebago

héébee (man speaking) tous (woman speaking, or a man speaking to a woman)- Arapaho

Gwe'- Míkmawísimk (Míkmaq)

Bhozo – Potawatomi

Da'anzho- Apache ... ✊🏼

[totalsaude]

[subastian-swallows]

i would love to hear about ur book idea 👉🏻👈🏻 only if you don't mind of course 🐧

Of course, my love!

Basic Plot: It’s called — Amid the Clouds. The cloud city: The Floating city of Halitos. It’s considered a myth to humans as they cannot see it. The world in the clouds was once a myth, now she stood amongst it and yet walked through as if she was not there. Perhaps it was due to being born from below, but regardless it was magical. The stories had not done it justice and she finds herself unable to stop herself from exploring. After feeling somewhat alone, she meets the only thing that can see her: a cloud nymph. The cloud nymph is most curious of her and follows her around as she explores. One day on her journey, she sees a boy training how to use a sword. She felt like she could watch him for hours and after moving closer and accidentally knocking something over—she finally realises she’s invisible as he is unable to see what or who knocked it over. This story will follow our MC follow this boy and fall in love with him—without him seeing her. There is a big plot twist in this LOL and it’s a sad story.

(This is really bare, I know lmao — but I don't wanna give to much away, in case I write it properly.)

[draycu]

So I recently took an amazing trip by car driving ALL the way from Houston, Texas out to Pittsburgh to spend this year’s Anthrocon with friends! There’s a LOT I have to share about the time on the road getting here and I will probably have a lot to still share going forward.

Why did I drive all this way? Who the heck even am I? I’m Draycu, and this is my first post ever on Tumblr, (I’m pretty dang sure at least) halito!! I’m moving here from Twitter after all the, ~stuff~, going on lately. To answer that first question, I wanted to grow and learn what it’s like to take a road trip in 2023 across the USA. There’s been a lot of changes I’ve gone through in the past, five years now? Change in career, changes to my family, and changes to my own body and sense of self.

I really want to share my experiences as best I can, show folks what it’s like doing something wild like packing your car and leaving for a journey of more than a thousand miles across so many different states and geographical regions! Hehe, I get a bit nerdy when it comes to travel too, and seeing the Appalachien Mountains was truly a magical experience to me. I’ve been a gal who’s lived her entire life in a place that’s mostly flat and lacks a lot of trees around the major cities. Seeing the steep roads and views in Pittsburgh has been INCREDIBLE and BREATHTAKING!!

Texas is also burning up a lot; my mom let me know the ac stopped working shortly after I left home. I’m glad I’m staying safe, and my friends have been really wonderful letting me enjoy the AC weekend!

So, I figure I’ll post stuff here, blog about my journey back home and exploration of the east coast back through the Appalachiens and down to the gulf coast of Mexico. (I miss the ocean and beach front a LOT)

Y’all can ask me stuff, I don’t mind! I’m not sure how many folks might come across my tumblr, but halito, (hello in choctaw language) and yakoke (thank you) for taking a look!

Here’s some more photos from my time at AC, it was WILD! (The guy covered by a poncho and armadillos is one of the awesome folks letting me have a place to stay while visiting Pittsburgh! His name is Kassc, lol)

[lets-abc-stuff]

Como Acabar com o Mau Hálito em 3 Dias... Conheça Agora esse Método Infalível Contra o Bafo Indesejado!!! Clique no Link e Adquira o E-book Agora.

[nightowlpatrol]

Halito! Thanks for following. As to your question, I can answer only for my own tribe (Choctaw). Our people did bring all manner of seed on the trail. I am unsure about our Cherokee neighbors, but I suspect they did the same. That said, I do forage with Cherokee friends here in Tahlequah for Morels, Oyster mushrooms, wild onions, medicinal plants, walnuts, serviceberries, wild plums, persimmons and such. I will put your question to my friend Mouse, a friend and 4/4 Cherokee elder. He will be able to inform both of us. Might be a few weeks. We are both quite isolated and neither of us like talking on the phone. I'll let ya know. Chi pisa la chike. 😊

Thank you, very much and bless you! I am a 56 year old student and enthusiast of history and geography. I live in Jacksonville, NC and have for several years been reading and learning a lot about the westward migration. Native American history has been the most interesting subject matter of it all. I had a great uncle that grew up on a Blackfeet reservation in Montana. He was the smartest and most interesting person I have ever known. I’m trying very hard to learn and understand the different native insights, cultures, traditions and ways of life. Are there any books or sources that you would recommend on my journey? Thank you, again!

[upthewitchypunx]

Posting this again! Please help my friend get to fashion week wit her beadwork!