#kansa utensil

[vintagehomedecorshop]

Pure Kansa Utensils Online - Yellow Verandah

Kansa promotes holistic healing by promoting gut health and immunity along with relieving stress and boosting energy levels. Our Kansa is handmade & hand-beaten by heritage blacksmiths from Balakati, Odisha. Here the purity of kansa is maintained by age old traditional techniques. Use kansa bowl, kansa glass, kansa thali, kansa water jug & more to enrich your healthy living!! Check out our colleciton: Kansa Utensils

[zishtatraditions]

Handcrafted Kansa Tulsi Collection | Kansa Cookware & Serveware | Zishta

Discover Zishta’s Kansa Tulsi Collection – a range of pure, durable cookware, serveware, and dining ware inspired by the sacred Tulsi plant. Crafted from the finest quality Kansa by skilled artisans, these serveware pieces are designed to enhance both your dining experience and your well-being. Perfect for modern kitchens with health benefits and timeless appeal.

[goodearth200]

kansa utensils

Kansa, also known as "bronze" in Sanskrit, holds a special place in traditional Indian cooking. Our Kansa utensils pay homage to this heritage while seamlessly integrating with modern culinary practices. The golden hue of Kansa exudes warmth, and its distinctive appearance adds an air of sophistication to your kitchen.

[tuliptired]

could you possibly write an Egon Spengler / female reader love triangle fic! With a lot of jealousy on Econ’s part? I love your Egon fics!

I Wish That I Had Jessie's Girl

Pairing: Egon Spengler/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Minor violence and being not so nice to a lady (its not Egon dw)

its been a minute...wtf yall know about plumbing???

better formatting on Ao3!

You put the phone down dreamily, smiling to yourself as Janine clung to your shoulders, having listened intently to your call. It was Duke, a friend staying with your neighbor. You had taken to talking one morning, you let it slip about your place of employment, and soon enough the boys were ridding his boiler of a spirit. He would call you during work hours, simple things like asking if you made it in ok, if you had dinner waiting- things that didn’t warrant calling a ghost hotline, but he was so sweet that you couldn’t resist. He had the cutest accent you’d ever heard, and not to mention the pure charisma he exuded with sandy hair and tanned skin. You sighed, leaning on your hand as you remembered him saying he “just wanted to talk to the sweet girl on the other end.”

Before you could indulge in your debriefing with your friend, the garage opened, and outpoured four men in brown. It didn’t take a genius to guess what they missed, brains filling in the blanks as Janine shook you around and you both giggled like highschoolers. 

“That line is for work calls,” Peter scolded you lightly, picking up the phone and inspecting it. Janine rolled her eyes, going back to whatever was on her computer and you looked down at your paperwork, a little embarrassed.

“You don’t get it,” Janine typed fast. The men groaned, as Peter fell into Ray’s arms dramatically.

“Oh, I get it.” He did his best at mocking your voice. “Oh, Duke, run away with me into the sunset!” Ray played along, doing a worse impression of you as your face burned from the teasing. “Duke- let’s go horseback riding on the beach!” 

Winston joined in, sounding like a belle. “Run up the phone bill, Duke!” 

As you tried to speak up to put an end to the symphony of phony-you, Peter interrupted you. “Duke, I haven’t had a real date in months- of course I’ll marry- ow!” He rubbed his forehead, eyes flickering from the spot he was struck and the golf pencil clattering to the floor. Soon, the other two men were pelted as well, covering their faces as you tossed writing utensils like rice.

You placed the container down. “It’s not my fault if he’s a romantic,” you defended yourself, straightening your clothes. Ray and Winston raised unbelieving eyebrows at you, bending over to pick up the mess. 

Ray stood with a small handful, unbending at the waist. “Just don’t know why you’re so obsessed with him, that’s all.” He had the cadence of a worried older brother, which made you uncross your arms. 

Janine leaned in to you. “Knows guitar. Beautiful brown eyes. A little dumb.”

You nodded. “A cute smile.” 

“So tall!”

“Deep voice.”

“Southern voice!” 

Ray looked offended then, placing a hand on his heart. “I’m southern! What makes him so special?”

Janine pushed her glasses up with her ring finger, crystal chain swinging as she did. “Kansas doesn’t count.”

“Well, excuse me if I’m not as good as Mr. Baywatch,” he stood with his hands on his hips.

Winston looked at something over your shoulder. “What do you think, Egon?” That’s what you were forgetting- you mentally cursed yourself for foregoing the quiet man as he started up the stairs. He paused, looking over the banister. 

He was silent, mouth opening but words hesitant. “I wouldn’t be tripping over myself for a plumber.” The rest of the men erupted in laughter, Janine telling them off, swatting at them as she said that they were just old and bitter. Your head fell into your hands, mind spiraling with ways you’ll get them to let it go.

You sat behind your desk, sipping on the coffee Egon had brought you. Just the right kind from just the right shop- in exchange for your help in the lab. The liquid warmed your insides as he watched you, waiting for a verdict. 

You put the paper cup down. “It’s the right kind,” you admitted. He didn’t budge. “ Thank you , Egon.” He was satiated, as the door opened and you turned your attention away. It was Duke, the sudden appearance making you jump, quick to fix your hair and tug on the hem of your shirt. He was all smiles, sauntering up to you with a few things in hand. Egon looked unamused, making a small amount of space for the man.

“You have another ghost?” You beamed up and him, nervous in the air of the spontaneous visit.

He laughed, voice rich like honey. “Hey, sweet girl- I can’t see you?” You shook your head light heartedly, subconsciously leaning forward in your seat. He held up what was in his arms. “Brought you something.” a little coffee cup with a yellow sleeve, and a thin batch of flowers. “You didn’t already have, right?” He hesitated before he put the cup onto the wood. Your eyes widened a bit, as he hadn’t noticed the forgotten favor from Egon that you quickly placed in a short, open drawer space underneath the actual table top. You felt bad, doing it in front of your friend, but he’d just have to understand, right? 

“Not at all,” you assured him. “Thank you, so much. You didn’t have to.” You brought the drink to your lips, taken aback by the taste. This was the kind you hated. From the place you made a point not to visit. You smiled weakly, taking the flowers in your hands. Pre-cut flowers, destined to die in a week.

He grinned back at you, before something flashed behind his eyes. “Before I forget- the bathroom pipes in your walls? The ones running through your bedroom? They’re sounding a little shaky, you might wanna get them looked at.” He leaned a hand against your desk, the other in his back pocket.

You heard a small snort that didn’t come from either you or the man trying to court you. You nodded, once. “Thanks. If my apartment floods with toilet water I’ll know who to call.” Duke looked around at your workplace, either impressed or concerned as he craned his neck towards the ceiling.

He let out a low whistle. “This place has to be at least half a century old.”

“Octogenarian.” Egon spoke up, evading your gaze as he stared down the other male. 

“No kidding,” Duke stilled, before looking around again. You cleared your throat, placing a hand over his.

“Thank you, again. I don’t know anyone who’d go out of their way like this for me.” You locked eyes for a minute, just smiling at each other before Egon interrupted, again.

He started toward the lab. “The samples are ready.” You sighed out your nose, remembering how these were the ones you were particularly excited to look at under the microscope. 

You patted his hand apologetically, before getting up as Egon disappeared into the firehouse. “Duty calls. I’ll see you later?” Duke looked a little disappointed, but he agreed nonetheless.

“Later,” he gave your hand a squeeze as he strolled towards the exit. 

Egon had a few slides set up, as well as seedlings and sprouted plants off to the side when you arrived. You sat in your designated wheely, short-backed chair, silent and a hefty amount of awkward as he messed with something behind you.

“He got the wrong coffee.”

“I know.”

“And you hate store bought flowers. He tried to charm you by offering to fix your pipes.”

“I know. ” You swiveled around to face him, self-conscious as you remembered the fact that Egon was standing there for the entire ordeal.

You closed your eyes as you put your hands out. “Look. Everybody makes mistakes. So what if I’ve mentioned it to him a few times.” Egon ceased what he was doing and gave you a single look as you slumped back in defeat. “Just drop it.”

“I didn’t say anything,” he turned the microscope’s light on, “now, these are samples of Platanthera ciliaris grown with ectoplasm, rather than cut prematurely with store bought fertilizers-” You cut him off with a light punch to the arm. He slid the scope in front of you. As you put your eye to the lens, your mind blanked upon looking down at blurry shapes and colors. This part always got you. 

“How do you…” You gestured to the knobs on either side without raising your head. He was quiet before placing light fingers on your right hand, guiding the knob forward, your skin prickling at the touch. Nothing changed as he retracted his hands.

“It’s still not…” You were about to sit back, to let him try it himself, when there was something in your way as wheels screeched across hard floors. A warm body, a respectable distance behind   your own, and warm hands encompassing yours. He silently guided the knob again, back and forth until the slide was clear.

You hoped he couldn’t feel your heart through your clothes as you swallowed. “That’s- good. I can see.” Your breath was taken away at the sight underneath you, yellow and orange and green cells as far as the slide went. Little square boxes, reminiscent of sliced citrus fruit sitting in the long tendrils of the plant. With the ectoplasm, their cell walls grew thick, and seemed to breathe, coiling and writhing. Before Egon could back away, you voiced your awe.

“It’s beautiful,” you said honestly. He stayed where he was.

A beat or two of silence, but he spoke eventually. “I know. It did wonders for their growth. It makes me think, what could this mean for human development?”

You watched on as the cells seemed to twitch, reminiscent of an animal stretching itself. “Living, retentive material on a living, thinking human being? Is that ethical?”

He didn’t say anything as he raised the brightness for you. “I’m unsure.”

You could see even better now, the remaining bits of dirt clear on the root of the flower. “Venkman could help.”

“Perhaps he could.” 

It was comforting, the way he was close to you. Undoubtedly, he was in a bit of an awkward position- his lower body was rolled away from the small of your back. But it was almost funny the way he nearly let all of his weight rest on you, while barely touching you at all. The scientist didn’t go out of his way to touch people, and when he did it was stiff and rigid. But he was languid now, deep breaths in tandem with yours as you reveled in the quiet. He started going out of his way for you very far into your employment, and your coworkers swiftly teased you both for it in the privacy of a room the other wasn’t occupying. He let you have the good chair, he brought you the good coffee. He let you watch on and talk endlessly while he worked, something that the other men didn’t have the privilege of. He listened to you divulge him in a topic he never previously cared for, as you ate all of his food. So to be touched, as brazenly as this, was simultaneously surprising and expected. He was your friend. But he was Egon, so his pelvis would stay out of contact with your body as he leaned forward onto you.

But the presence was lost, as the scrape of wheels against the ground made you raise your head, a bit disappointed. He had a little slide in hand, with another flower. It was your favorite, marked “ectoplasmic”, incased in clear material. He had the ghost of a guilty smile as you took it from him, marveling at the new color created. 

You managed to glow so hard you nearly felt your cheeks ache. “You’re spoiling me.”

Janine was bored, taken to filing your nails to match her own in the middle of the slow day. The compact radio on your side of the desk went on, playing your station of preference as you let her work on you. She stops filing, blowing the dust off the edge.

She eyes you for a moment, before going back to your hands. You narrow your eyes as she keeps her head down. “What? What was that for?”

“Your aura is all outta whack.”

You frown. “Well then, I apologize for my ‘aura’.” Janine wasn’t pleased, cocking one eyebrow as she dragged the file back and forth. 

She sits up a little straighter, bringing your hand up to her eye. “This is bad. I’ve only seen something like this in my sister.”

You sneak a look down at your nails. “Your boy-crazy sister?”

“I’m telling you- this is bad.” Janine drops the file, holding your hand. “And I can tell what’s happening.” She takes a pause, as if her next words will hurt coming out. “You’re in love.”

“Alright, you got me,” you pull your hands back, surrendering sarcastically. The little woman grabs them again, insistent.

“So you’re not in love with Duke?”

“I mean-”

“So you’re stuck between two lovers?” 

Taking your hands back again, you roll away from her, eyes widening and voice reaching a ditzy pitch. “I am not in love with Egon!”

She has an expression reminiscent of a psychiatrist as the light catches in her glasses. “Honey. I never mentioned Egon.”

You freeze. Without thinking, you rise from your chair, only to be pulled back down. “You’re just confusing me,” you protest.

She cages you into the receptionist booth. “The only thing confused is your heart. You’re stuck between two guys and now you have to choose one.” You scoff, crossing your arms. She keeps on, voice lowering a bit as if she remembers the men upstairs.

“I see it, we all see it. Except the two eggheads,” she flicks you between the eyebrows with manicured nails. “Friends and coworkers don’t do what you do.”

The spot on your face stung. “I’m telling you, he’s just my friend,” you almost pleaded.

Janine’s eyes nearly rolled off her face. “Of course. He lets you bother him all day because you’re friends? He’d lay himself out on the ground for you to walk on if you asked. You just don’t think he would because you’re too scared to lose him if you make assumptions.” She presses a finger to your chest. “But you should’ve seen the two of you the other day.”

Your blood runs just short of icy. “You were there?”

“Egon does not touch people. And there you were, this 6ft scientist hanging off of your back like a koala.” She smirks to herself as she lets up, rolling back to her spot and starting to work on her own nails as you sit there, stunned. “You like the big-weird-doctor,” her voice teases you.

There’s nothing for you to do but roll back to your own spot, silent as she keeps going. “And you’re not gonna say anything to Duke?” His name snaps you back to reality as you turn your head to face her.

“I don’t…” You try to argue your case, barren as it may seem, but it served no purpose when nothing came to mind.

“So you’ll say something to Egon?” Her face brightens with hope.

“I…” Nothing, again, as you search the floor for some sort of answer.

“So you won’t say anything to anyone and you’ll die an old hag?” She whines, setting the file down against the wood, eyebrows furrowed as you throw your head back, squinting at the ceiling.

Your brain was scrambled, not knowing whether it was on the offensive or the defensive. You make a resolve without thinking, tone self-assured. Or, in denial. “I don’t think you know what you’re talking about. And I’ll…be with Duke because he actually likes me.” She starts to speak, but her words are cut off by a low, shaky rumbling reverberating throughout the firehouse. Both pairs of eyes instinctively flit downward, until a creaky note followed by a loud spraying noise and a curse resound from above you. 

The voice of the man in question cuts through the very loud chaos happening in your walls, calling down the hall. “The lab sink! It’s flooding!” The sounds of running water and creaky metal fill the space. Amidst the noise, you can hear Ray announce that “he’s got it!” as he makes it to the lab along with two other sets of feet, and you rush to the staircase.

“No, you don’t! You’re an engineer, not a pipefitter!” You leant on the railing, waiting for a response. You got one, as the madness quieted for a second, Janine coming out from under the desk. In an instant, it erupted again, even worse as you and Janine’s hands went flying towards your ears. There was a hellish cacophony of metal, gushing water, and creaking inside and outside the wallpaper, comparable to construction. You stumbled back to the desk, fingers pressed into your hair.

“Who do we get? What number do we call?” Janine hands you the phone, yelling over the endless pandemonium.

You have to yell back. “No one, after the work Ray did- no commercial plumber would come within 50 feet of our driveway if he wanted to keep his license.”

She shakes the phone at you, exasperated. “Well, what do we do? This place is falling apart!” You’re forced to take it then, holding back a sigh as you bite your cheek and punch in the only number you knew to contact.

Duke was underneath the sink unit, working hard as he lay on the towel you gave him to stay out of the inch of water that accumulated onto the floor. “It’s a good thing you called me when you did,” he marveled as he reached for a tool in the worn satchel you held like the daintiest picnic basket.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am that I did.” He sends you a smile from the ground, and you return it, until you hear the slosh of something dragging against water. Duke looks to the side, and you do the same as you look up, expression flat. Egon was in his chair, working at his workbench like there wasn’t centimeters of stagnant water at his ankles. You knew he was freaked out of his mind, he was just being difficult.

“Egon,” you inquired sweetly.

“Hm?” He was playing innocent.

Your voice retained the same sweet cadence. “Why are you here?”

Egon gazed at both of you incredulously, like he had no idea what he was doing wrong. “It’s my own laboratory, I think I reserve the right to be here.”

Your jaw clenched. “Of course. Hey, Duke, tell me again about your football team,” you hid the venom in your voice as your stare didn’t leave Egon’s sitting figure.

Duke shined when he recalled his years in high school sports. “Oh man, you have no idea. I was the best running back in Valentine. I was riding high, ‘till I tore my ACL. Could’ve gone pro.”

Egon spoke as you were about to praise the former athlete. “Interesting you mention football injuries. Many players can develop CTEs and never notice.” Duke blinked, nodding slowly.

“My head’s okay. I think.” 

“I’m sure. Poor impulse control, rage issues, and eventual dementia but- there’s no way we’ll know until you’re dead.” He shrugged, smile lopsided.

“And what a cute cadaver you’ll be, with cute Duke Juniors at your side after they do the autopsy,” you bent slightly, voice saccharine and expression strained as you got Duke’s attention again. It felt mean to think this, but he was a little easy to please.

“It might not be the CTE that gets him, after all. In fact, plumbers are easily at risk for infectious diseases. Hepatitis, staphylococcus. On account of the fecal matter and septic water.”

Before you could distract him, Duke looked offended, brows knitting together. 

“Nerds like you don’t get sick? With your samples and your tests?” He glanced at Egon sideways.

Egon simply shook his head. “No. Because I’ve never swam through human shit for a paycheck.”

Duke almost got up from his spot underneath the sink, sitting up on his forearm and pointing a tool towards the seated man. “I didn’t go to some big school for years just so I could be called doctor like you did. You don’t even patch anyone up,” he retorted harshly. Egon, the man who avoided confrontation, seemed smug and amused by the insult, ready to spit back himself.

You squatted to be level with him, internally thankful that your legs were strong enough to prevent you from falling backwards into standing water. “I’ve never told you how cool I think it is that your truck is so tall. I didn’t even know they made them that big.” God, you sounded like a cheerleader as you rested a hand on his chest, but it worked.

He was content with that as he wiped his hands off on a rag. “Y’know, sweet girl, I’ve been meaning to ask. Tomorrow’s Friday, wanna come out to the bar on 5th and Franklin? I’ll show you a good time.” He spoke low, eyes lower. Egon didn’t give you time to respond, as he was fully turned towards the both of you, face more than annoyed.

“She hates that club. And she told you that, because it has to do with why she doesn’t have her license, and she tells that story to everyone. Were you the exception, or did you just not care enough to remember? Because she won’t jump into bed with you on the spot?” For the second time that day, your blood turned to icy as you stood up fast, water splashing onto Duke’s shirt underneath you going unnoticed to everyone in the room but him as he grabbed the hem. 

You could barely control the anger in your voice as it rose in volume. “Egon,” was all you had to say, firm and frustrated as you stood with hands on your hips. He looked like a scolded child, wordlessly wading through the flood and following you outside.

You stood standing across from each other, Egon very interested in your shoes. “What the hell is wrong with you?” You questioned him, infuriated as you pinched each of his ears, pulling him down as he winced in pain. 

When you let go, he weakly soothed his red cartilage. “You don’t understand,” he muttered, immediately regretting his choice of words as your eyes lit aflame.

“What don’t I understand? That you didn’t mean to be a jerk to the guy trying to ask me out?” Egon took your reproach, until he couldn’t anymore.

“He doesn’t really like you,”’ he said reluctantly. 

“How would you know?” You crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes. Was this why he was being so petty?

Egon sighed, before looking frustrating and starting off on a tangent. “He got you the wrong coffee, the kind that gives you a stomachache. And he got you store bought flowers that died within a week. Anyone who’s ever known you will know to get you a potted plant so you can keep it alive yourself. Not to mention that you’d have more stimulating conversation with a mailbox than him.” Egon looked choleric and uncomfortable as he tried to reason with you, voice raising slightly.

You took a step towards him, lowering your voice as you weren’t all that far from the lab- only down the hall. “At least he’s trying! In all the time you’ve known me, how many people did you know to actually try?” It sounded pathetic out loud, but it was true, right? For as long as you could remember, you knew that you’d eventually have no more room to nitpick. He had a brief, hurt expression, eyebrows flying together and mouth open slightly. He looked away once, before nearly begging you.

“He’s only trying because he thinks you’re a challenge!” He put both hands on your shoulders in a moment of desperation. “I’ve lived among men all my life. Even the most mild mannered guy has only one thing in mind, taking you to a club like that. He lets you talk and talk because you won’t think twice when-”

You pushed yourself away, a cynical smile as your face burned inside. “Oh, I’m sure Janine would be surprised to hear that coming from you.” You stepped toward the door, ready to open it and accept his invitation. Egon took a step towards you, as if you were an animal.

“What? I’m trying to tell you, he is an insincere neanderthal of a man, and he’ll do nothing but treat you like dirt.” You were ready to snap then. This was all too much for you, abstract emotions having nothing to do but manifest as frustration. Janine’s words mixed with Egon’s, resounding as negative affirmations through every corner of your head. 

This was all so confusing, and now here he was, telling you that the love you were receiving for so long was superficial. Wasn’t he supposed to be your friend? That hurt most of all, memories of the handful of times you were alone at night, spilling your thoughts out. You were tired, and he did more listening than talking, but you can remember him reassuring you that “ someone will love you. He’ll stop being scared and he’ll tell you with a beautiful flower in hand.” Who cares how you felt about Duke? The love he promised is here, and now it’s up to Egon to tell you it’s not true? You could barely feel tears in the corner of your eyes, disdain making them dry.

Taking a slow, yet shallow breath, you grabbed the door again, turning your back to him. “And you’re being an ass. As far as I’m concerned, you’re not at liberty to tell me who I should and shouldn’t be with.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look back at him, but if you did you’d see the visual representation of someone’s heart breaking into splinters. “I’m gonna go out with him and have fun. And drink.” With that, you were back in the lab, a little shaken as you put on a faulty smile, cheerily saying yes to his invite.

The next day came, and Peter let you go early since they’d finished all their scheduled jobs and Janine was still around. As you thanked him for excusing you, Egon stood wordlessly at the workbench.

You got nice and dressed up, perhaps a little better than you would otherwise. But this was for you, and partly to prove a point. Duke let you know how nice you looked during the ride from your place to the bar, granted he spent the rest of the drive going on about the truck itself. You seldom paid attention, mind so focused on enjoying yourself that you forgot to be in the moment.

At the door, you had to use a different form of identification to get in on account of this same club’s (teenaged?) bartender swiping your license to use for herself. Duke made some wayward comment on you proving that you were of age in some clandestine way, and you just sighed out your nose, handing the unamused bouncer your ID. 

The inside was hot, and loud. You couldn’t walk too far without bumping into someone. You only frequented places like this with friends, so a date was new territory as he sat down at the bar without looking back. He ordered a large beer, for himself, and insisted that you order another drink after you had nursed yours. You declined, you needed to remember tonight, and he seemed almost annoyed at that. The air was a little tense- it was hard to have a good time when only one person’s throwing back. It was only getting better when you did the cheerleader thing again, letting him pick you up with one arm and impress you with another round of shots. You suggested he slow down, and again denied another drink, and he seemed irritated again. You felt a little despondent yourself as he wouldn’t talk, before something across the bustling room got his attention and he halfheartedly excused himself. 

It didn’t take long before you found him in the corner of a bar, trying to impress much younger, much drunker girls. Drunken asshole. You dragged him back by the wrist, talking sweetly to him as you promised him a dance earlier in the night. He got excited, beating you at getting to the floor. As your sultry air fell, you caught a glimpse of bright colors in one of the booths, pointing in your direction. God damn it.

“What are you doing here?” You leaned against their table exasperated as 3 out of 4 of them beamed at you. Winston, Peter, and Ray each had the same dress shirt, buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to different degrees; in purple, red, and green respectively. Egon opted for a dress shirt he had at home, a simple light blue under a sweater vest and tie. He looked nothing sort of tense in the crowded environment, even more so now that you were in front of them. You scrunch your nose in sight of their outfits. “Did your tour bus break down?”

Winston put down his glass. “How’s your date going?” You closed your eyes and raised your eyebrows.

Peter looks over your shoulder at Duke making his way through the crowd. “He looks juiced.”

“It’s fine. Why are you here?” Ray smiled, putting a hand on Egon’s shoulder. 

“Can you believe this was Egon’s idea? Here, no less?” The man looked into your eyes sheepishly as you glared down at him. 

“Oh, I can believe it. Well, I hope you and Rosenberg enjoy your night.” You gave Egon a mocking grin, before departing to find Duke. You did, and he was, again, with another girl. You got his attention, and he was excited to dance- just extremely handsy. So much so that you had to hold his wrists to keep his hands on your waist, rather than your front or rear. 

Eventually, he spoke low and into your ear, but it wasn’t the titillating, sensual way that one would towards someone they were trying to romance. It made the hair on your neck stand for the wrong reasons as it registered as sleazy, predatory. Drunken words:sober thoughts, Janine’s voice sounded in your mind. 

“C’mon, let’s go to my place,” Duke finally ended his slurry of obscene suggestions as his hands tried at grabbing your wrist, motioning to lead you out to the apartment he didn’t even own. You resisted, heartbeat racing as you tried to politely let him know you were fine here. His half lidded eyes became aggravated as he tried again to drag you out, this time with a tighter grip and a stronger force. You couldn’t stop his strength as he started to pull you away from the safety of a crowd and towards the dimly lit exit, fingers digging at his in a desperate attempt to free yourself from the grips of this man with a getaway car and a plan. 

You were able to escape his tight hold, and he spun around, irate. “I went through all this trouble to listen to you bitch and moan about stupid shit, and you won’t even sleep with me?” As you stood there, dismayed, he managed to spit out a disgusting, derogatory insult at you, looking down at you in the flashing lights of the club. Drunken bastard. 

You were appalled, and before the record could change, you brought your hand up and to the side of his face, hard. He was stunned by the slap, cheek red as he looked back at you in disbelief. Your fear turned into great offense and disgust at the sight of the man in front of you. In an attempt to regain his pride he took a step forward, enraged and embarrassed. As he got almost chest to chest with you, he reached for your neck. 

Before he could choke you out, there was a hand on his shoulder. Almost as quickly as he looked over his shoulder, there was a fist connected to his other cheek, and you could swear a tooth or two came flying out. 

It all happened so quickly that you could’ve blinked and gotten to where you were, talking to a police officer outside as Duke and Egon were seated on the curb, handcuffed. The officer nodded as you gave your statement, and let Egon, who was sitting calmly, off with a warning as he wasn’t intoxicated and acted in your defense, while Duke hurled expletives and beer from his spot against the road. The car sped off with him in the backseat, and you tiredly sat down next to the tall man, stretching his wrists out from the handcuffs.

“Hey.”

Egon’s face was illuminated by the fluorescent lights of a 24 hour grocery behind him in the entertainment filled street. His brown eyes were soft and slightly rounded, albeit worn. “Hi.” He looked at you expectantly with a trace of worry as you scanned him. He looked beautiful at night. “Are you okay?” He bashfully held both of your hands in his.

You nodded. He didn’t seem to believe you, examining any part of your body that was exposed. You pinch his ears again, pulling him down. “Thanks for spying on me,” you let him go, “But. Thank you for being there, really. I’m sorry I didn’t listen when you were warning me.” He looked guilty as he rubbed the tops of his ears.

“I should be apologizing. It’s not my place to police what you do. I’m sorry I acted childish.” You let out a small huff, leaning your head on his shoulder. He was a warm refuge in the cooling air of the night.

“But, you wouldn’t have had to if I just rejected him.” 

He hummed. “True,” he agreed without thinking. He realized what he said as you let out a short laugh. “Objectively, it is true. But you shouldn’t blame yourself for him being disgusting. This could’ve been avoided if I had just gained the courage to tell you.” You sighed, before freezing.

“Tell me?”

It was his turn to freeze, eyes on the ground as he sat still. You shook his shoulder a bit, trying to convince him to let you in.

“Tell me what? C’mon, no more secrecy from now on.” He pursed his lips, sitting like a deer in headlights. He swallowed, battling something in his head before he rose silently, stopping in front of the tiny grocery store. You watched on as he robotically made it past cut and wrapped bouquets, artificial and destined to wilt soon. He stopped in front of a little potted thing, tiny compared to the others on sale but precious and hardy in its own right as its blossoms were finished blooming.

Egon took a breath in, and you stood to be with him. “I promised you. That the love of your life will be there with a flower in hand.” He looked between you in the pot. “If you’ll have me?”

The sounds and colors of the club melted away, painting you both in light like oil portraits. How blind you were. He looked grecian, his nervous face bathed in blue.

 “Of course. Even if you had to act like a caveman for me to realize."

[edutainer2022]

Many thanks to @janetm74 for her deeply moving and insightful story Grief: The Compass, and for putting up with my ramblings about the symbolism of Grandpa's compass and its meaning to Scott, as well as to Scott and Virgil going forward (especially after the revelations of Recharge). I had this little dream-like sequence in mind since the very early days of my return to TAG fandom as a intro to a larger story. Scott Tracy is, of course, very much not okay. It might not be obvious from the start, but it's true. He needs to find his way.

TRUE NORTH

The wind was ruffling early blossoms in the trees and his hair, as he jogged eagerly across the front yard to the farmhouse. Soft spring grass was tickling his bare feet. Mom was inside, he knew. He was so excited to see her.

The quiet hallway was filled with a soothing scent of cinamon and ripe late summer apples. Mom was probably in the kitchen, baking an apple pie. His favorite. He followed the wiffs of delicious smells, but the kitchen was empty. Each utensil in its place, exactly as Mom liked it. He needed to find Mom. The sense of urgency increased, as he passed the sunlit kitchen to the backdoor, out onto the porch and across the backyard. He shivered once, then twice, as a gust of vicious wind threw a handful of fallen leaves into his face. Golden and red, just like Mom's hair. Mom wasn't out back either and he was anxious now. On instinct, he followed the well-worn path to the meadow, stretching behind their old farmhouse in Kansas. Rough edges of pebbles dug into his feet so they were probably bleeding, but he kept going. He needed to find Mom!

His frantic paces came to a halt at the very edge of the meadow, though. As far as eye could see was cast in a swathe of pristine white. Snow. He knew deep down in his soul Mom was across that expanse of white. But he had no clue which way to go. Where to start. He stood at a loss, shivering, at the very edge of ice, licking his bare toes, the freezing numbness creeping up from the ground to his heart.

Then he remembered! Grandpa's old compass that Virgil made a point to give him for the duration of a rescue, would show the way. Ever since their heart to heart in the Arctic, Virgil would  give him the compass before each mission so he would find his way home safely. Just like that day. He was home now, but Mom wasn't there. He dug into a pocket, and, sure enough, his fingers curled around a solid cool weight of the antique gadget. Grandpa's compass would show him the way to Mom! But something odd was happening. As soon as he opened the lid, the arrow went haywire, turning in place, never resting on any one point. Despair and exhaustion nearly choked him and his knees were ready to give. He couldn't get to Mom no matter how much he longed to! No matter how much he missed her!

He was about ready to step into the unforgiving snow and take his chances, when heavy hands landed on his shoulders, pinning him in place.

"It's not yet time, Bluejay!"

The husky whisper was close to his ear. Dad!

"It's too soon, kiddo! You have to let me go first. You can then follow in my footsteps, but not just yet! Not for a long, long time. How about we go home now, son, eh?"

He wanted to protest. Mom was there, all alone, across the field of snow. He could find her, even if the stupid compass was not helping! He needed to be with Mom! But the voice failed him, caught up on a blinding pain in his chest. Strong arms were already steering him back to face the farmhouse again.

Even from afar, he could see all his brothers standing on the back porch, watching him. Allie seemed so scared, baby blue eyes wide and full of tears, clutching the railing. Gordon was standing apart, hunched over, his face dark and lost - he appeared so small and so young. John was ghostly pale, his eyes a green sea of pain. Scott could swear his ginger brother was swaying with each gust of wind. But it was Virgil who made him gasp. Standing one step down the porch stairs, his best friend was glaring daggers at him - the always soft face contorted with fury and anguish, kind brown eyes brimming with liquid fire. What made Virgil so angry? Had he done something stupid? He hadn't lost Grandpa's Compass! Right! The Compass! He looked down at his hand, still clutching the brass shell, and the arrow had miraculously settled, pointing due North. At the center of the porch of their home. At Virgil.

He felt an insistent nudge to start moving, as the voice by his ear spoke again, soft, but urgent.

"Let's go home now, Bluejay! Just like that, one step at a time! Your brothers are waiting."

He tried once more to twist and catch the sight of Dad, but thought better of it as a sharp pain pierced through his torso again. He still needed to make it home and give Virgil back the compass, so Virgil wouldn't be so angry with him. So Virgil wouldn't go looking for him all the way by the desolate cold white meadow. He also needed to find out what made John so upset, and he certainly needed to hug the Tinies. He sneaked a peek at the compass again - it was pointing firmly Home.

[destieltropecollection]

DESTIEL TROPE COLLECTION 2023 | DAY 16 | Two Person Love Triangle

Secret Admirer | NannaT (AO3)

Rating: Mature Word Count: 5,627 Main Tags/Warnings: Valentine's Day, Fluff and angst, Secret admirer Summary: Cas has a secret admirer and it's driving Dean nuts

An Angel's Tale | @seidenapfel

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 30,175 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fanfic Writer Castiel, Fanartist Dean Winchester, Two Person Love Triangle, Episode: s15e18 Despair - Castiel's Confession Scene, President Castiel (Supernatural), Custodian Dean Winchester, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Humor, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), Hunter Dean Winchester, Canon Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Fix-It, Angel Wings, Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair, Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Past Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Alcohol, Dean Winchester Has Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Mutual Pining, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester Summary: After being Dean’s roommate for over a decade, Castiel can’t go on like this anymore. He leaves their shared home and flees to Europe for a year, no longer able to deal with his feelings for his best friend in such close proximity. Left behind heartbroken and grieving, Dean distracts himself with Charlie’s favorite fantasy book series. Intrigued by the tale of an angel and a hunter, Dean stumbles into the realms of fandom and fanfic. For the first time since high school, he picks up his drawing utensils, and, not before long, signs up for a fandom big bang. Dean is thrilled to be paired with his favorite author. Chatting reveals that Dean isn’t the only one who is head over heels in love with his best friend. In jest, they make a deal: They confess their feelings to their friends, and if that doesn’t work out, they’ll try their luck with each other.

Go Down With This Ship | @porcupine-girl

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 31,354 Main Tags/Warnings: No Archive Warnings, Epistolary, Online Friendship, Online Romance, Tumblr, Characters Writing Fanfiction, Alternate Universe - Fans & Fandom, Two Person Love Triangle, Identity Reveal, Librarian Dean, Dom/sub, Dom Castiel, Light Bondage, Rimming, top cas/bottom dean (fun fact: This was the first fic on ao3 to use the two person love triangle tag! I found the term on TV Tropes.) Summary: Since he has to stay deep in the closet to protect his job as a children’s librarian in conservative Wichita, Kansas, Dean’s main outlet for sexual frustration is writing and reading slash fiction for his favorite show, Devil Boys. When he starts corresponding with AngelofThursday, another male slash writer in his ship, he really is just looking for friendship… but when it seems like more might be on the table, he’s not going to turn it down. If only he didn’t also have a crush on Cas, the hot volunteer at his library branch…

Salt & Iron | @abi-cosmos

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 36,221 Main Tags/Warnings: Human Castiel, Online relationship, Two person love triangle, Mutual pining, Depression, Drinking to cope, Love Confessions, Dom/sub undertones, Dean Winchester wears panties, Canon divergence, Hurt/Comfort Summary: Dean is lonely since Castiel became human. It’s been six months of throwing himself into cases, pining around the bunker, and radio silence ever since they parted ways. Charlie takes matters into her own hands, signing him up for a hunter’s networking website where he meets new hunter Steven. They start a friendship, Dean enjoys his online companionship and Steven seems to understand what he needs without ever having met him. When things heat up between the screens, Castiel is brought back into his life, and Dean soons finds himself face-to-face with secrets and sin.

Love, Dean | @friendofcarlotta

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 48,050 Main Tags/Warnings: Gay Dean Winchester, Closeted Dean Winchester, Gay Castiel, Closeted Castiel, Dean Winchester's First Time With a Man, Kid Fic, Top/Bottom Versatile Castiel/Dean Winchester, Threesome - M/M/M Summary: Dean has a job he’s good at, and people he loves. Really, he’s got most things a man in his thirties could wish for. He also has a huge secret: he’s gay. The only one who knows is his best friend Charlie. Dean is content to keep it that way, until he strikes up an anonymous email friendship with a colleague who’s also closeted and struggling to come out. As Dean’s feelings for his new friend grow, he begins to wonder if it might be time to let himself be seen.

Dear Western Red Cedar #2409 | @mittensmorgul

Rating: Mature Word Count: 63,433 Main Tags/Warnings: Modern AU, forest ranger/author!Dean, librarian!Cas, idiots to lovers Summary: For a decade, Dean had been living his dream life in Montana as a national park ranger. When Sam and Eileen followed him there a few years later, he had no idea how to tell them about his side gig as the author of a wildly popular series of novels loosely based on his own experiences. Well, minus the monster hunting. He never expected them to become bestsellers—or potentially a tv series, if his agent could only convince him to out his real identity. While Dean's also writing his latest bestseller on a deadline, a misunderstanding and his own social ineptitude leave him completely cut off, aside from his new pen pal who Dean only knows as Bluebird. Cas had spent the last two years desperate to hold Dean’s attention. Right when he felt they might be getting somewhere, Dean was called away on an emergency. Of course he had to go and lament about his troubles to a random tree, thanks to a distracting plaque inviting the public to participate in a new town project. To his surprise, he seems to hit it off— completely anonymously of course— with Western Red Cedar #2409.

American Rebels | @valandrawrites

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 78,973 Main Tags/Warnings: Professor Dean Winchester, Graduate Student Castiel, Goth Castiel, Tattooed Castiel, Pierced Castiel, 2 person love triangle, Identity Reveal, Idiots in Love, Anonymous Sex, Bathroom Sex, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Castiel and Jimmy Novak are Twins, Dean Winchester Has a Sexuality Crisis, Eventual Happy Ending, Dean/Cas Switch Bang 2022 Summary: Graduate student Castiel Novak shows up excited for his American Lit course titled *American Rebels* taught by the Dean himself! But the man who arrives is none other than Cas’ anonymous bathroom hookup from the summer. Professor Winchester cannot figure out why the hot, weird, tattooed, and pierced guy who fucked him within an inch of his life in the Roadhouse bathroom is in his favorite class. And why does he insist on using his full name every time he addresses him? Maybe Charlie can help… **This is based on a real story involving me and a Professor named Dean Flowers. He was not, as I later learned, actually the Dean. For the record, I did not have sex with Dean Flowers.

kept on climbing til our stars collided | @whaddyameanno

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 84,801 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Two Person Love Triangle, Alcohol usage, Recreational Drug Usage, mentions of medical procedures, Anesthesia mention, Panic Attacks Summary: Dean is a Youtuber. Castiel is a college student who gets introduced to his channel. Both Dean and Castiel also have unknowingly been talking to each other on their secret stan accounts for Dr. Sexy.

[goshen-applecrumbledore]

Happy WW! Question for this lovely Americana week: If you HAD to take the boys outside of America either on a quick job or to live for awhile, where would you make them go and why? I hate that we had that quick phone call with Bobby where Sam and Dean went abroad (Scotland, I think?) and we saw NONE of it! As much as I love my red-blooded American boys, I think we've been deprived of a great plot point!

hello!! what a great question thank you!!

the short answer: I'm Canadian and would love to see some Canada action, but the only canada-related plots in TV are hamfisted and cringe, so I can't imagine what spn would actually do with that that would be good

the long answer is a snippet from a fic I'll never publish that I KNOW I've posted on tumblr before but I can't figure out where, so I'm posting it again:

"You hung over?" Dean asked. Sam shrugged.

"Nah. Took some Advil."

"Good, good." Dean let a smile spread slowly over his face. "You, uh, really had a few."

"No more than you."

"You went on your little rant again."

Sam went still and looked over. Dean's smile was cranked up to a thousand watts.

"Which rant?" Sam asked carefully.

“You know which rant. Every time I get more than four drinks in you, you find a way to bring up moving to another country and telling people that we have the same last name because we’re married.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but Dean saw his back get tight. He was embarrassed.

“Excuse me for finding creative solutions to the ongoing problem of dating my brother.”

"Have you considered not dating your brother?"

"Shut up, Dean."

Dean put his elbows on the table and his chin in his hands and made faces at him.

"This time it was Portugal. You said we could live in a seaside shack in Portugal. You were worried they weren't progressive enough, though. Then I said, if we want progressive, we're stuck with either California or Canada or maybe Oregon on a good day, and you said that wasn't far enough away, except maybe Canada."

"Would you please—"

"You know a surprising amount of Canadian lore, turns out. Have you been doing research? House hunting? I'm not moving to Canada, we'd never get guns again."

"Canada's too close," Sam grumbled. "Go away."

"Canada's big. And rural. Bet we can find a place backwards enough for our, uh, alternative lifestyle. But—"

"Alright, that's—"

"—I'd be willing to bet that any fucked-up commune that's down with the incest part would be extremely not down with the gay part—"

"Dean."

"—So maybe we'd just better keep being weird, violent hermits in Kansas for now."

"Are you done?" Sam asked, sounding physically pained. 

"Are those pancakes done?"

"If it'll shut you up, they are."

"Deal."

Sam took the plate of warmed pancakes out of the oven and all but threw it down in front of Dean, leaving him to get his own utensils and syrup.

Sam had been very excited about Portugal. Dean thought it was grossly sweet, but he wasn't about to miss an opportunity to rib Sam by doing something as stupid as agreeing with him out loud. He knew it would never happen, but thinking about it made his heart turn over; two matching silver rings tapping on the railing of a balcony, sun-bleached stucco and curtains fluttering in the hot wind. Drinking vinegary pilsners and driving along a winding coastline, two old American guys with omnipresent sunburns and no past. Sam with his hair in a ponytail, reading a book under a beach umbrella.

Dean blinked and shook his head as if clearing sun spots from his vision. Maybe Sam thought about that life while he was drunk, but Dean thought about it sober. He really, really tried not to dwell on that delta. It made everything less funny.

[rrfmkc]

7 Years, 0 Sales!

Tomorrow will be the 7th anniversary event for Kansas City Really Really Free Market. The Really Really Free Market began on May 7th 2017 with 2 small tubs of items. Since then, we have had 84 of our monthly markets in Brookside park and 24 satellite events. We've had scores of donors, hundreds of guests, distributed countless items, and had one police interaction [1312].

But enough reminiscing, tomorrow we will be set up in Brookside Park from 9AM until Noon near the corner of 57th street and Brookside Blvd. I have already heard from several people who have been waiting for the main event to bring donations, but here is some of what I know we will have.

Clothing

Pots & Pans

Shoes

Kitchen Utensils

Hats

3 ring Binders

WIne Glasses

Toys

Books

Puzzles

A Vacuum

Yarn

Baskets

Picture Frames

Bird Feeder

Lamps

And more!

[glowing-disciple]

Tried something different this round: Sam was a banker (thus had a ton of money), brought along livestock, and I didn't have the family ration their meals. This meant I needed to either buy or trade for fresh supplies regularly, as they often ran out of fruits and vegetables.

Also, this time I had everybody settle in the Sacramento Valley instead of Oregon - which lead to some new adventures as I've never been this way before.

Sam's diary can be found under the cut.

April 30, 1847 Here begins the journal of Sam, formerly a banker. Tomorrow we leave Independence behind to begin our journey west to Sacramento River Valley. We must still purchase the supplies that our large farmwagon will hold to sustain us during our long trek. I hope that my skill in commerce/trade will prove of some value.

May 1, 1847 Took advantage of the package deal offered to me. What a relief not to have to shop for all that individually! Purchased 2 8-oz. bottles of alum, 2 butcher knives, 3 8-oz. boxes of Dover's Powder, 3 8-oz. bottles of Duffy's Elixir, 5 12-oz. bottles of epsom salts, 1 fishing net, 1 fishing spear, 1 frying pan, 1 hatchet, 5 4-oz. bottles of iodine, 5 16-oz. bottles of isopropyl alcohol, 3 lanterns, 3 4-oz. bottles of peppermint, 6 30-foot lengths of rope, 1 set of cooking utensils, 2 sets of eating utensils, 1 thermometer, 2 washboards, 5 water kegs. Purchased 6 oxen, 3 chickens. Purchased 1 25-lb. keg of gunpowder, 1 rifle. Near Blue River, had a wagon train meeting to discuss our current circumstances. Decided to ford the river. Our train lost 4 wagons and 9 people crossing the river today. The good citizens of the wagon train elected me as their captain. I plan to accept position of captain.

May 7, 1847 We had to double-team the animals to try to get our wagon out of the mud. Approached Westport today. Some people in our wagon train are very tired of the journey. Purchased 10 20-lb. sacks of rice, 75 pounds of salt pork. From our guidebook, estimated we would reach New Santa Fe today, and sure enough, there it was!

May 8, 1847 We lost a chicken today. The trail brought us to Lone Elm today.

May 10, 1847 Rested the animals near Blue Mound.

May 12, 1847 Passed Kansas River about noon. Decided to take advantage of the ferry.

May 13, 1847 Passed the hundred mile mark today.

May 14, 1847 Reached Red Vermillion River about noon--about time! Fording the river looks to be our best option. Our train lost 3 wagons and 5 people crossing the river today. We tipped the wagon and lost 44 pounds of bacon; 5 pounds of cheese; 9 pounds of coffee beans; 6 10-lb. sacks of cornmeal; and various other items.

May 15, 1847 Today I saw Scott Spring. We stopped along the trail to hunt. We obtained 83 pounds of meat.

May 17, 1847 Near Alcove Spring, had a wagon train meeting to discuss our current circumstances.

May 18, 1847 Had a bit of a run-in with another wagon party today near Big Blue River, but we patched up our differences before nightfall. A delay prevented us from crossing at Big Blue River. We're going to wait our turn to cross. Caulk the wagon and float it across, that is the way to go.

May 19, 1847 Our wagon tipped over. We lost 1 8-oz. bottle of alum; 28 pounds of bacon; 7 pounds of cheese; 4 pounds of coffee beans; 1 10-lb. sack of cornmeal; and various other items.

May 20, 1847 Reached another prominent landmark today: St. Joseph Road Junction.

May 24, 1847 The trail brought us to The Narrows today. Traded 2 sets of clothing for 2 25-lb. kegs of gunpowder. We stopped along the trail to hunt. We obtained 169 pounds of meat.

May 27, 1847 Dreadful thunderstorm today. I figured it was best to continue as usual.

May 28, 1847 In good spirits today; got as far as “The Coast of Nebraska”.

June 1, 1847 Today we saw Plum Creek. How sublime it appears by moonlight.

June 4, 1847 The trail's flooded. We had to wait for conditions to improve.

June 5, 1847 The trail's flooded. We had to wait for conditions to improve. We are still waiting.

June 6, 1847 The trail's flooded. We had to wait for conditions to improve. We are still waiting.

June 7, 1847 The trail's flooded. We had to wait for conditions to improve. We are still waiting.

June 8, 1847 The trail's flooded. We had to wait for conditions to improve. We are still waiting.

June 9, 1847 We came upon a portion of the trail that was flooded, and had to wait for conditions to improve. We are still waiting.

June 14, 1847 Jonas has cholera. I decided to administer epsom salts.

June 16, 1847 Reached another prominent landmark today: O’Fallon’s Bluffs. Traded 1 box of 20 bullets for 1 4-oz. bottle of laudanum.

June 17, 1847 Hans came down with a bad cold, and I decided to increase fluid intake.

June 18, 1847 Edward came down with a bad cold, and I decided to increase fluid intake.

June 21, 1847 We were inconvenienced by a serious thunderstorm. We chose to continue as usual.

June 22, 1847 Mr. Tillman claims it's the Oregon Territory up ahead, but the guidebook says it's South Platte River. Fording the river looks to be our best option.

June 24, 1847 We lost a chicken today. Passed the five hundred mile mark today. Today we passed Ash Hollow.

June 26, 1847 It was extremely foggy early today. We figured it was best to slow down. An oxen is missing. This time we plan to organize a search party.

June 27, 1847 An accident caused the death of one of our oxen. We'll butcher the animal for meat. We salvaged 145 pounds of meat.

June 28, 1847 Jonas has cholera. I decided to administer epsom salts.

June 29, 1847 A chicken died today.

June 30, 1847 Arrived at Courthouse and Jail Rocks, despite some “help” from Nicholas J. Tillman.

July 4, 1847 Today is Independence Day and we've decided to continue. Misplaced my guidebook at Chimney Rock today. Luckily we found it before leaving.

July 6, 1847 Passed Scotts Bluff about noon. Saw a small, foul-looking pool of water near Robidoux Pass. Could be poison; I prevented our animals from drinking it.

July 9, 1847 We saw a small party of coyotes today, just a mile or so west of Laramie River. Decided to take advantage of the ferry. Nooned at Fort John. Purchased 20 pounds of cheese, 5 10-lb. sacks of flour, 70 pounds of ham, 3 16-oz. tins of lantern oil, 2 mules, 30 pounds of pemmican, 40 pounds of salt pork, 2 spare horse or mule harnesses, 5 pounds of tea, 4 water kegs.

July 10, 1847 We found an abandoned wagon. We decided to search it for something useful. We found: 6 pounds of pemmican. Saw eagles today near Register Cliff. What majestic creatures!

July 14, 1847 Traded 1 8-oz. box of Dover's Powder for 1 10-lb. sack of dried beans. We spotted a group of strangers and decided it would be best to wait to see what they do. They approached us and we talked. Happened upon a fresh grave near Ayers Natural Bridge. A reminder of the hazards we all face on the this journey.

July 15, 1847 We spotted a group of strangers and decided it would be best to wait to see what they do. They moved on.

July 17, 1847 Saw a grave dug up by wolves near North Platte River--bones scattered about. A most distressing sight! Given the price, we will take the ferry. Nooned at Mormon Ferry Trading Post. Purchased 20 pounds of bacon, 10 pounds of butter, 5 10-lb. sacks of cornmeal, 3 10-lb. sacks of flour, 5 10-lb. sacks of salt. Arrived at Emigrant Gap today.

July 18, 1847 Made our way past Willow Springs late today. Trail could be better.

July 19, 1847 Passed Independence Rock. Road fair to middling.

July 20, 1847 We came across an abandoned wagon and decided to search it for something useful. We found: 1 saw; 1 30-foot length of chain; 1 ladle; 3 10-lb. sacks of shot. Camped today near Devil’s Gate.

July 21, 1847 Camped today near Split Rock.

July 22, 1847 Mr. and Mrs. Billings came by for a visit today near Three Crossings; had a very nice chat. The wagon train reached First Sweetwater River Crossing this day. Decided to ford the river. Another step on the trail; today we reached Second Sweetwater River Crossing. Decided to ford the river. From our guidebook, estimated we would reach Third Sweetwater River Crossing today, and sure enough, there it was! Fording the river looks to be our best option. Our train lost 3 wagons and 4 people crossing the river today. Our wagon tipped over. We lost 14 pounds of bacon; 1 box of 20 bullets; 1 10-lb. sack of dried beans; 1 5-lb. sack of dried fruit; and various other items.

July 24, 1847 We saw a small party of coyotes today, just a mile or so west of Ice Spring Slough.

July 27, 1847 Traveled past Final Sweetwater River Crossing this afternoon. Decided to ford the river. Mr. and Mrs. Billings came by for a visit today near South Pass; had a very nice chat. We rested a while not far from Pacific Springs.

July 28, 1847 Nooned near Dry Sandy.

July 29, 1847 Just heard that there's quicksand ahead. Looks like we'll wait for conditions to improve.

July 30, 1847 Just heard that there's quicksand ahead. Looks like we'll wait for conditions to improve.

July 31, 1847 Found some quicksand ahead. I decided to wait for conditions to improve.

August 1, 1847 Found some quicksand ahead. I decided to wait for conditions to improve.

August 2, 1847 Found some quicksand ahead. I decided to wait for conditions to improve.

August 3, 1847 Just heard that there's quicksand ahead. Looks like we'll wait for conditions to improve.

August 4, 1847 Found some quicksand ahead. I decided to wait for conditions to improve.

August 5, 1847 Just heard that there's quicksand ahead. Looks like we'll wait for conditions to improve. Just heard that there's quicksand ahead. Looks like we'll put weakest animal up front. The dust from other wagons has gotten bad. We decided to slow down. [name] came down with a bad cold, and I decided to increase fluid intake. Saw some Indians in the distance not far from “Parting of the Ways”. No incident, but some concern.

August 6, 1847 We found some wild vegetables and decided to stop and gather vegetables. We gathered 3 pounds.

August 9, 1847 Today we have traveled for 100 days. The trail brought us to Green River today. Decided to take advantage of the ferry.

August 11, 1847 Today we have traveled 1,000 miles! We found some wild fruit and decided to stop and gather fruit. We gathered 16 pounds. Heard news of a murder and hanging last night near Church Butte. Enough to send shivers down one’s spine.

August 12, 1847 Encamped a while near Name Rock. Traded 1 spare horse or mule harness for 20 pounds of cheese. Traded 1 spare horse or mule harness for 5 10-lb. sacks of cornmeal. Traded 1 mule for 3 boxes of 20 bullets. We stopped along the trail to hunt. We obtained 84 pounds of meat.

August 13, 1847 Today our eyes were greeted with the sight of Fort Bridger. Purchased 30 pounds of bacon, 10 5-lb. tins of biscuits, 5 pounds of butter, 10 10-lb. sacks of dried beans, 5 5-lb. sacks of dried vegetables, 5 10-lb. sacks of flour, 2 oxen, 60 pounds of pemmican, 40 pounds of salt pork.

August 15, 1847 Arrived at Bear River, despite some “help” from Nicholas J. Tillman. Decided to take advantage of the ferry.

August 16, 1847 Saw The Needles today. We were treated to a remarkably beautiful sunset near Cache Cave. Felt somewhat weary today. Passed Echo Canyon.

August 18, 1847 We came upon some fallen rocks on the trail and decided to try to clear the path.

August 19, 1847 We're nearly choking on the dust of the trail. We've decided to slow down. The ox yoke broke, and I decided to try to repair it. We were successful.

August 20, 1847 Made an early start this morning; passed Weber River. Given the price, we will take the ferry. Made it to Pratt’s Pass. Passed Hogsback Summit about noon.

August 21, 1847 We found some wild fruit and decided to stop and gather fruit. We gathered 8 pounds. Today we passed East Canyon.

August 23, 1847 Saw a mountain lion not far from Big Mountain Pass. Our wagon tipped over. We lost 12 pounds of bacon; 6 pounds of pemmican; 1 pair of shoes; 2 pairs of socks; 1 fishing spear; and various other items.

August 24, 1847 From our guidebook, estimated we would reach Little Mountain today, and sure enough, there it was! We stopped along the trail to hunt. We obtained 185 pounds of meat. I just got bitten by a wild animal. We're going to treat with an antiseptic.

August 28, 1847 Reached Last Creek Canyon. We were treated to a remarkably beautiful sunset near Donner Hill. The wagon train reached Great Salt Lake City this day. Purchased 4 pounds of butter, 10 pounds of coffee beans, 5 5-lb. sacks of dried fruit, 3 5-lb. sacks of dried vegetables, 5 10-lb. sacks of flour, 30 pounds of ham, 50 pounds of salt pork, 2 5-lb. boxes of yeast cake.

September 3, 1847 As expected, we made it to Weber River today. Decided to take advantage of the ferry.

September 6, 1847 Happened upon a fresh grave near Bear River. A reminder of the hazards we all face on the this journey. Given the price, we will take the ferry. Heard news of a murder and hanging last night near Malad River. Enough to send shivers down one’s spine. Decided to ford the river.

September 8, 1847 Saw Blue Springs, sight is most reassuring. Passed Rattlesnake Pass about noon.

September 9, 1847 Another step on the trail; today we reached Deep Creek. Caulk the wagon and float it across, that is the way to go.

September 10, 1847 Passed Cedar Springs about noon.

September 12, 1847 Made our way past Raft River late today. Trail could be better.

September 14, 1847 Enjoyed some good fiddle music today during our nooning near Salt Lake Cutoff Junction. Traded 5 pounds of pemmican for 1 20-lb. sack of potatoes. Traded 1 dollar for 1 25-lb. keg of pickles. Traded 2 dollars for 1 25-lb. keg of pickles.

September 21, 1847 Every day our journey comes closer to its end. Today we made it to Hot Spring Valley.

September 27, 1847 One of our wagon wheels broke. We have to try to repair it. We were unable to make the repair. We were able to replace it from supplies.

September 28, 1847 Reached North Fork of the Humboldt River. Decided to ford the river.

September 30, 1847 Misplaced my guidebook at Emigrant Pass today. Luckily we found it before leaving.

October 2, 1847 We found an abandoned wagon. We decided to search it for something useful. We found: 5 1-lb. tins of smoked salmon; 2 16-oz. tins of lantern oil.

October 4, 1847 Got as far as Gravelly Ford of the Humboldt River today. Decided to ford the river.

October 12, 1847 We were inconvenienced by a serious thunderstorm. We chose to continue as usual.

October 15, 1847 Mr. and Mrs. Billings came by for a visit today near Applegate Cutoff; had a very nice chat.

October 16, 1847 A thick fog rolled in today. Looks like we'll slow down.

October 17, 1847 It was extremely foggy early today. We figured it was best to slow down.

October 18, 1847 Sang and told stories around the noon campfire near Big Meadows. Traded 1 set of clothing for 5 5-lb. sacks of dried fruit. Traded 2 1-lb. tins of smoked salmon for 1 25-lb. keg of pickles.

October 19, 1847 Had a pleasant talk with Miss Whitney today in the vicinity of Humboldt Sink.

October 23, 1847 The eternal dust of the wagons ahead of us is most troublesome. We will slow down.

October 24, 1847 We endured a most unpleasant sandstorm today. We decided to slow down.

October 27, 1847 Had a bit of a run-in with another wagon party today near Truckee River, but we patched up our differences before nightfall. Decided to ford the river. In good spirits today; got as far as Truckee Canyons.

October 30, 1847 Our path was blocked by fallen rocks on the trail. We decided to wait for conditions to improve. Another group of emigrants cleared the path.

October 31, 1847 Misplaced my guidebook at Truckee Meadows today. Luckily we found it before leaving. Traded 1 set of clothing for 15 5-lb. sacks of dried fruit. Traded 1 spare wagon tongue for 5 5-lb. sacks of dried vegetables.

November 3, 1847 One of the oxen was injured. It looks like we’ll have to slow down.

November 4, 1847 Encamped a while near Donner Lake.

November 5, 1847 The animals are so exhausted they can't continue. We plan to stop and rest awhile.

November 6, 1847 Saw a grave dug up by wolves near Cold Stream Pass--bones scattered about. A most distressing sight! Much grumbling today about Nick Tillman near Summit Valley. Passed Donner Pass. Road fair to middling.

November 7, 1847 We rested a while not far from Donner Lake.

November 8, 1847 We tipped the wagon and lost 6 pounds of bacon; 4 pounds of pemmican; 1 hatchet; 1 16-oz. bottle of isopropyl alcohol; 1 washboard; and various other items. Our wagon tipped over. We lost 2 8-oz. bottles of alum; 17 pounds of bacon; 1 4-oz. bottle of iodine; 1 box of matches; 4 pounds of pemmican; and various other items.

November 9, 1847 Made our way past Cold Stream Pass late today. Trail could be better. Came to Summit Valley.

November 15, 1847 Nooned at Johnson’s Ranch. Purchased 20 pounds of butter, 10 pounds of cheese, 10 pounds of coffee beans, 5 10-lb. sacks of flour, 10 20-lb. sacks of rice, 30 pounds of salt pork.

November 17, 1847 Will this journey never end! Today we have traveled for 200 days. Sore feet today, but I'll manage. Saw American River. There was a delay at American River. Looks like we'll have to wait our turn.

November 18, 1847 Decided to take advantage of the ferry. From our guidebook, estimated we would reach Sutter’s Fort today, and sure enough, there it was! Purchased 10 5-lb. tins of biscuits, 5 pounds of cheese, 5 10-lb. sacks of cornmeal, 5 10-lb. sacks of dried beans, 10 5-lb. tins of dried bread, 4 10-lb. sacks of flour, 50 pounds of ham, 2 10-lb. sacks of onions, 3 25-lb. kegs of pickles, 2 20-lb. sacks of potatoes, 2 30-foot lengths of rope, 1 shovel. Arrived today at the Sacramento Valley!! At last we have reached our destination! Truly this is the land of opportunity!

December 27, 1847 Obtained a land deed today from the county for 436 acres. Now I can begin to build my new life! Final Score: 5930

December 28, 1847 Sam settled in the Sacramento Valley of California in 1847, building a home on 436 acres of land. After several years of mining, Sam decided to move to the burgeoning city of San Francisco, establishing a business that proved both successful and satisfying. An 1869 gold strike on a tract of land owned by Sam provided even greater wealth, much of which was donated to charity in later years. An early twentieth-century descendant repeated this good fortune by striking oil in southern California, providing the family with continued affluence and influence.

[hi-retails]

The Health Benefits of Eating in Kansa Thali | Hi Retails

Ever wondered why your grandma always swore by metal utensils like bronze for cooking and eating? It’s more than just tradition—it’s a wellness hack that modern science is catching up with! In a world increasingly focused on quick fixes and artificial solutions, the Kansa thali stands as a testament to the enduring wisdom of ancient traditions. This handcrafted bronze plate, steeped in Ayurvedic principles, offers a holistic approach to health and wellness that transcends modern-day challenges. Let’s delve into the transformative power of the Kansa thali and discover how it can elevate your dining experience while nourishing your body and mind.

The Kansa Thali: A Holistic Approach to Health

A Kansa thali, crafted from a unique alloy of copper and tin, is more than just a dining utensil. It’s a powerful tool for promoting holistic health and well-being. Rooted in Ayurvedic principles, the Kansa thali offers a range of benefits that can enhance your overall quality of life.

Digestive Harmony: The natural properties of Kansa help balance the pH of food, promoting optimal digestion and preventing digestive discomfort.

Immune System Boost: By neutralizing acidity and reducing toxins, the Kansa thali helps strengthen your immune system, making you less susceptible to illness.

Detoxification: The antimicrobial properties of Kansa can help remove harmful toxins from your body, promoting a healthier and more vibrant you.

Balanced pH: The Kansa thali can help maintain a balanced pH in your body, which is essential for optimal health and well-being.

Beyond Health Benefits: A Cultural Heritage

The Kansa thali is not only a health tool but also a cultural artifact with deep-rooted traditions. It’s often used in religious ceremonies and passed down through generations as a family heirloom. By using a Kansa thali, you’re connecting with ancient wisdom and honoring a rich cultural heritage.

Elevate Your Dining Experience

Aesthetic Appeal: The Kansa thali’s timeless elegance and natural beauty can elevate your dining experience.

Sustainable Choice: By choosing a Kansa thali, you’re opting for a durable, eco-friendly alternative to disposable plates and utensils.

Holistic Wellness: Incorporating a Kansa thali into your daily life can promote a more holistic approach to health and wellness.

Caring for Your Kansa Thali

Regular Cleaning: Wash with mild soap and water after each use.

Avoid Harsh Chemicals: Avoid using abrasive cleaners or scouring pads.

Polish Occasionally: For a natural shine, polish your Kansa thali with tamarind or lemon. Where to Buy Authentic Kansa Thali

Looking for premium, handcrafted Kansa thalis? At Hi Retails http://www.hiretails.com, we offer the finest selection of Kansa dinnerware that’s perfect for both everyday use and special occasions. Our thalis are carefully crafted by skilled artisans, blending tradition with modern aesthetics. Visit our site at Hi Retails to browse our range of Kansa utensils, including thalis, bowls, brass Products, Gods Idols, and more.

Conclusion

The Kansa thali is more than just a dining utensil; it’s a powerful tool for promoting holistic health and well-being. By incorporating a Kansa thali into your daily life, you’re not only improving your health but also connecting with ancient wisdom and contributing to a more sustainable future.

[vintagehomedecorshop]

Pure Artisanal Kansa Lota - Yellow Verandah

Artisanal pure Kansa is handmade & hand-beaten, ultra-super metal for cooking, eating & drinking. Talented metalsmiths from Murshidabad in West Bengal are handcrafting Kansa Utensils since generations with highest standard of purity !! Easy way to identify purity of Kansa is, the very long resonating sound, it makes. Also Kansa doesn't react to sour acidic food. Kansa is considered as the Healthiest Metal since Vedic time. It's an alloy of Tin and Copper, both metals being considerably good for health !! Artisanal Kansa Water Lota (Pot) Size : Approx. 4.5" H, Bottom Base Dia - 5" Weight : Approx. 700 Gm (Heavy Kansa) Capacity : Approx. 400 ML... Buy Now

[brassglobe]

Unveiling the Elegance: The Timeless Charm of Kansa Dinner Sets

In the world of culinary arts, presentation holds an esteemed position. A beautifully set table not only tantalizes the taste buds but also enchants the eyes. Among the array of dining accessories, Kansa dinner sets stand out as an epitome of elegance, tradition, and functionality.

Steeped in centuries-old tradition, Kansa, also known as bell metal, holds a significant place in Indian heritage. Comprising copper and tin, this alloy is believed to possess therapeutic properties according to Ayurveda, the ancient Indian system of medicine. Craftsmen adeptly shape Kansa into various forms, ranging from utensils to exquisite dinnerware.

Artisanal Craftsmanship

Each Kansa dinner set is a testament to the meticulous craftsmanship passed down through generations. Skilled artisans employ age-old techniques to fashion every piece with precision and care. From hand-hammering to intricate etching, every detail reflects a blend of artistry and dedication.

Timeless Elegance

The allure of Kansa dinner sets lies in their timeless elegance. The lustrous hue of Kansa exudes warmth, adding a touch of sophistication to any dining experience. Whether it's a formal dinner party or a cozy family meal, Kansa dinner sets elevate the ambiance with their understated charm.

Functional Sophistication

Beyond their aesthetic appeal, Kansa dinner sets boast remarkable functional attributes. The inherent properties of Kansa make it an excellent choice for diningware. Its natural antibacterial properties ensure hygiene, while its heat retention abilities keep food warm for longer durations. Additionally, Kansa’s non-reactive nature makes it suitable for serving a wide array of cuisines without altering flavors.

Embracing Sustainability

In an era marked by environmental consciousness, Kansa dinner sets emerge as a sustainable choice. Crafted from natural materials, these sets align with eco-friendly practices, offering a greener alternative to conventional dinnerware. Furthermore, Kansa’s durability ensures longevity, reducing the need for frequent replacements and minimizing waste.

A Culinary Journey

Owning a Kansa dinner set transcends mere possession; it marks the beginning of a culinary journey. Whether indulging in a gastronomic adventure or savoring simple pleasures, each meal becomes a celebration of artistry and tradition. The gentle clinking of Kansa against porcelain resonates with the symphony of flavors, creating an unforgettable dining experience.

Caring for Your Kansa

To preserve the pristine beauty of your Kansa dinner set, gentle care is essential. Handwashing with mild detergent and avoiding abrasive cleaners ensures longevity. Additionally, regular polishing with a soft cloth maintains its natural luster, allowing its timeless charm to shine through.

A Timeless Heirloom

Beyond its functional utility, a Kansa dinner set embodies heritage and legacy. Passed down through generations, it becomes a cherished heirloom, carrying stories of shared meals and cherished moments. With each passing year, its value appreciates, not just as a dining accessory but as a symbol of familial bonds and enduring traditions.

Conclusion

In a world characterized by fleeting trends, Kansa dinner sets stand as a beacon of timeless elegance and enduring craftsmanship. From their rich cultural heritage to their functional sophistication, they embody the essence of culinary artistry. As we embrace the allure of Kansa, we embark on a journey where every meal becomes a masterpiece, and every gathering a celebration of tradition and togetherness. Brass Globe's Kansa dinner sets epitomize elegance and functionality, crafted with artisanal precision. With their timeless allure and sustainable charm, they elevate dining experiences to new heights of sophistication.

[theindieearthin]

Kansa wand: The Ayurveda-approved skincare tool

Ayurveda has all the answers – sometimes in the form of herbs, sometimes as metals. One such wonder is “Kansa”. Kansa (AKA Bell Metal) is a blend of copper and tin. For ages, Kansa is used by humans to create holistic wellness. We use this metal for creating utensils, storing water, and for massages. For massages, this metal is used in the form of a wand – the Kansa Wand.

The benefits of the Ayurvedic Kansa Wand are numerous. Right from relieving pain to skincare, a Kansa Wand is an all-in-one solution.

Before we look at the benefits of a Kansa wand, let’s understand, what is it.

What is Kansa Wand?

Basically, a Kansa wand is a dome-shaped tool for massaging. Its shape and material are designed in such a way, that they can stimulate blood circulation. Though, the actual magic lies in the metal itself. Kansa is highly effective for lymphatic drainage and the removal of toxins from the body. But this is not it, Kansa can also help in balancing pH levels of the skin which in turn improves the texture and elasticity of the skin while retaining the natural moisture of the skin.

Why does It Work on Skin?

Kansa is typically an alkaline metal, when it is used to massage the skin, it helps in balancing the skin’s pH.1. Due to the exposure to environmental pollutants and excessive use of chemical-based skincare and makeup products, our skin tends to become acidic. This imbalance in the skin leads to sensitivity, acne, dullness, premature aging, and inflammation.

Regular use of the Kansa wand brings back the lost balance and gently treats these skin issues.

Another, important benefit of the Kansa Wand for the skin is the release of lymph nodes and removal of built-up toxins. lymphatic drainage makes a way for the skin to get more oxygen. As a result, you get a natural glow on the skin and even skin tone.

Massage with Kansa Wand on the skin also helps in reducing puffiness and inflammation of the skin.

How to Use a Kansa Wand on your Face?

Follow the below-mentioned steps to make the most out of Kansa Wand massage.

Put a few drops of oil or serum on the metal side of the wand.

Move the wand, forming the shape of the number 8 on your face.

Keep the movements light, around the eyes.

Keep a gentle upward stroke, on the jawline.

Massage in the circular moves around ears as well.

Massage your face for 5-15 minutes.

Rinse your face with lukewarm water.

Which is the best face oil to use with a Kansa wand?

Kansa wand enhances the benefits of every oil or serum that you use for massaging your face. However, if you are looking for noticeable results, choose Kumkumadi Oil.

Kumkumadi oils help in

Skin Detoxification

Improving glow & brightness on the skin

Improving your skin texture

And makes your skin supple and soft.

When you use Kumkumadi tailam with the Kansa wand, it pushes the oil into the deeper layers of the skin, which does the magic.

The massage upgrades your skincare routine giving you visible results in less time.

While the Kansa wand is great for a facial massage, but its uses are not limited to it. This wand can also be used to massage the foot, neck, and back.

Here are some additional benefits of Kansa Wand massage.

Releases body pain

Tones your muscles

Improves gut health and immunity

Helps you sleep better

Speeds up the healing process of the body

Improves blood circulation

Soothes stressed muscles

Gives a calming effect on the mind.

Some General Tips to Use Kansa Wand

Use High-Quality Oils to make the most out of this wand.

Make sure to give gentle pressure. Hard pressure won’t make it any better.

Perform a Skin Patch Test before using it to make sure that you are not allergic to this metal.

Don’t worry, if your skin turns grey. This commonly happens when toxins are released from the body. Just wash it off with lukewarm water.

Conclusion

You can use the Kansa wand on your face as well as the soles of your feet as a tool for holistic wellness.

Kansa Wand is an Ayurvedic tool that has been used since ancient times. It holds its charm, even after thousands of years. All thanks to the authenticity and purity of the wisdom, that has been passed on to generations.

Visit our website - https://theindieearth.in/kansa-wand-the-ayurveda-approved-skincare-tool/

[theindieearthca]

Kansa wand: The Ayurveda-approved skincare tool

Ayurveda has all the answers – sometimes in the form of herbs, sometimes as metals. One such wonder is “Kansa”. Kansa (AKA Bell Metal) is a blend of copper and tin. For ages, Kansa is used by humans to create holistic wellness. We use this metal for creating utensils, storing water, and for massages. For massages, this metal is used in the form of a wand – the Kansa Wand.

The benefits of the Ayurvedic Kansa Wand are numerous. Right from relieving pain to skincare, a Kansa Wand is an all-in-one solution.

Before we look at the benefits of a Kansa wand, let’s understand, what is it.

What is Kansa Wand?

Basically, a Kansa wand is a dome-shaped tool for massaging. Its shape and material are designed in such a way, that they can stimulate blood circulation. Though, the actual magic lies in the metal itself. Kansa is highly effective for lymphatic drainage and the removal of toxins from the body. But this is not it, Kansa can also help in balancing pH levels of the skin which in turn improves the texture and elasticity of the skin while retaining the natural moisture of the skin.

Why does It Work on Skin?

Kansa is typically an alkaline metal, when it is used to massage the skin, it helps in balancing the skin’s pH.1. Due to the exposure to environmental pollutants and excessive use of chemical-based skincare and makeup products, our skin tends to become acidic. This imbalance in the skin leads to sensitivity, acne, dullness, premature aging, and inflammation.

Regular use of the Kansa wand brings back the lost balance and gently treats these skin issues.

Another, important benefit of the Kansa Wand for the skin is the release of lymph nodes and removal of built-up toxins. lymphatic drainage makes a way for the skin to get more oxygen. As a result, you get a natural glow on the skin and even skin tone.

Massage with Kansa Wand on the skin also helps in reducing puffiness and inflammation of the skin.

How to Use a Kansa Wand on your Face?

Follow the below-mentioned steps to make the most out of Kansa Wand massage.

Put a few drops of oil or serum on the metal side of the wand.

Move the wand, forming the shape of the number 8 on your face.

Keep the movements light, around the eyes.

Keep a gentle upward stroke, on the jawline.

Massage in the circular moves around ears as well.

Massage your face for 5-15 minutes.

Rinse your face with lukewarm water.

Which is the best face oil to use with a Kansa wand?

Kansa wand enhances the benefits of every oil or serum that you use for massaging your face. However, if you are looking for noticeable results, choose Kumkumadi Oil.

Kumkumadi oils help in

Skin Detoxification

Improving glow & brightness on the skin

Improving your skin texture

And makes your skin supple and soft.

When you use Kumkumadi tailam with the Kansa wand, it pushes the oil into the deeper layers of the skin, which does the magic.

The massage upgrades your skincare routine giving you visible results in less time.

While the Kansa wand is great for a facial massage, but its uses are not limited to it. This wand can also be used to massage the foot, neck, and back.

Here are some additional benefits of Kansa Wand massage.

Releases body pain

Tones your muscles

Improves gut health and immunity

Helps you sleep better

Speeds up the healing process of the body

Improves blood circulation

Soothes stressed muscles

Gives a calming effect on the mind.

Some General Tips to Use Kansa Wand

Use High-Quality Oils to make the most out of this wand.

Make sure to give gentle pressure. Hard pressure won’t make it any better.

Perform a Skin Patch Test before using it to make sure that you are not allergic to this metal.

Don’t worry, if your skin turns grey. This commonly happens when toxins are released from the body. Just wash it off with lukewarm water.

Conclusion

You can use the Kansa wand on your face as well as the soles of your feet as a tool for holistic wellness.

Kansa Wand is an Ayurvedic tool that has been used since ancient times. It holds its charm, even after thousands of years. All thanks to the authenticity and purity of the wisdom, that has been passed on to generations.

Visit our website - https://theindieearth.ca/kansa-wand-the-ayurveda-approved-skincare-tool/

[traditionalproduct]

Unlocking the Elegance of Indian Heritage: The Pure Bronze Kansa Plate

Introduction: In the rich tapestry of Indian culinary traditions, the utensils used hold a significant place, not merely as functional items, but as embodiments of cultural heritage and gastronomic excellence. Among these, the Kansa plate, also known as the bronze thali or kansa ki thali, stands out as a timeless symbol of purity and tradition. Crafted meticulously from pure kansa, a unique alloy of copper and tin, the kansa plate epitomizes the elegance and grace of Indian dining. Understanding the Essence of Kansa Thali: The term "Kansa" finds its roots in ancient Ayurvedic texts, where it is revered for its medicinal properties and its ability to enhance the dining experience. The amalgamation of copper and tin in precise proportions results in kansa, known for its antimicrobial properties and its ability to impart a distinct flavor to food. Craftsmanship and Heritage: The art of crafting kansa thalis is a tradition passed down through generations of skilled artisans. Each plate is meticulously shaped and polished by hand, a testament to the artisan's dedication to preserving cultural heritage. The intricate designs adorning the surface of the kansa plate reflect the rich tapestry of Indian motifs, adding a touch of elegance to the dining experience. Purity Personified: One of the most notable features of the pure kansa plate is its purity. Unlike modern utensils crafted from stainless steel or aluminum, kansa plates are free from any harmful chemicals or coatings. This purity not only ensures the preservation of the natural flavors of the food but also contributes to a healthier dining experience. A Versatile Dining Companion: The versatility of the kansa thali knows no bounds. Whether it is a lavish dinner party or a simple family meal, the kansa plate adapts effortlessly to any occasion. Its generous size and sturdy build make it ideal for serving a variety of dishes, from hearty curries to delicate desserts. The Pleasure of Dining with Kansa: Dining with a pure kansa plate is a sensory delight like no other. The smooth texture of the metal against the fingertips, the faint aroma of kansa mingling with the flavors of the food – every aspect of the dining experience is elevated to new heights. The inherent warmth of kansa adds an extra layer of comfort to the meal, making it an experience to cherish. Embracing Sustainability: In an age where sustainability is of paramount importance, the pure kansa plate shines as a beacon of eco-friendliness. Crafted from natural materials and designed to last a lifetime, kansa plates leave behind a minimal carbon footprint, making them a preferred choice for environmentally-conscious consumers. Caring for Your Kansa Plate: While kansa plates are durable and resilient, proper care is essential to ensure their longevity. Avoid using abrasive cleaners or harsh chemicals that may tarnish the surface of the plate. Instead, opt for gentle cleansers and soft cloths to keep your kansa plate looking pristine for years to come. Conclusion: In the fast-paced world of modernity, the pure bronze kansa plate stands as a timeless reminder of India's rich cultural heritage. More than just a utensil, it is a symbol of tradition, craftsmanship, and purity. Whether it graces the tables of grand feasts or simple family gatherings, the kansa plate continues to captivate hearts and palates alike, promising an unforgettable dining experience steeped in elegance and tradition.