#lamp sand lime

[digitulworld]

DHMIS teachers answers if you asked them the interview questions

Where do you live?

Sketchbook: In the dark, sometimes.

Tony: Midwest.

Shrignold: Far away from you.

Colin: Indoors, outdoors, sideways, vertical, and horizontal.

Spinach Can: Ping-pong galleria with my friend Schmuck.

Steak Guy: In your house!

Lamp: A magic barn.

What do you like to eat?

Sketchbook: I’m on a liquid diet.

Tony: It’s in the attic somewhere.

Shrignold: Something very warm.

Colin: Extra large cereal.

Spinach Can: Cardboard

Steak Guy: I can’t believe you would ask me that.

Lamp: Pink bones, red fibers, and a spinning wheel.

What is your favorite color?

Sketchbook: Green. Is this a trick question? It’s green.

Tony: Tan.

Shrignold: Lots and lots of purple.

Colin: The one with five letters.

Spinach Can: What color is grass?

Steak Guy: Grey horses.

Lamp: You're being too silly right now, you have to stop.

Do you like cows or goats?

Sketchbook: Anything yellow.

Tony: It doesn't matter to me. Nothing matters to me.

Shrignold: A baby sheep, is that like a goat?

Colin: Lizards.

Spinach Can: I made a cow mad once, and then got Cow Mad Syndrome.

Steak Guy: Big ones. Just the big ones.

Lamp: It jumps over the moon!

Do you have brown hair?

Sketchbook: Only on Tuesdays.

Tony: Are you stupid?

Shrignold: Lime green, like my mothers.

Colin: I asked you first!

Spinach Can: You should stop asking me that, I'll give it back later.

Steak Guy: It just gets stuck like this sometimes.

Lamp: Yesterday I saw a dog, but it was an evil dog. Don't ask me how I know.

What is your blood type?

Sketchbook: I had to glue some on myself so they'd stop bothering me.

Tony: Just a big clump.

Shrignold: I don't know, they all look the same.

Colin: I can't remember what it looks like! It’s very shy.

Spinach Can: What the *beep* is blood?

Steak Guy: Blood? Is that what they call it nowadays?

Lamp: Theres worms in me.

What are you allergic to?

Sketchbook: Having a nose.

Tony: It changes every day, and has been for the past 977 days.

Shrignold: Absolutely positively everything.

Colin: Fish paste.

Spinach Can: Eggshells, all of them. They pushed me down the stairs once.

Steak Guy: I don't need one!

Lamp: The Boogeyman. We’re on bad terms.

Whats your favorite idea?

Sketchbook: Anything but this question.

Tony: The giant bird that appears in my dreams sometimes.

Shrignold: My favorite pair of shoes.

Colin: My idea website. It generates ideas, like fun ways to hold a spoon.

Spinach Can: Hammers! Lots of hammers! And a nickel!

Steak Guy: Throwing my keys into a hole.

Lamp: TV shows about Alaska.

What do you find exciting?

Sketchbook: Big balloons, the alphabet, kites, gas planets, carpentry, a sock. The rest is personal.

Tony: Basements with creaky stairs.

Shrignold: Moths in small amounts.

Colin: Every 14th day of the month.

Spinach Can: A really really really small traffic cone, that tells you when you're going to die.

Steak Guy: Mold.

Lamp: Four trampolines.

What happened after the olden days?

Sketchbook: TVs started using colors, and now people are ungrateful.

Tony: I’m not playing your little game.

Shrignold: Everyone got sad, so I had to help them.

Colin: There were three wars, four explosions, and two train crashes, all in 1958.

Spinach Can: The world got mucky and ate dirt and beans.

Steak Guy: A rude mouse flipped the bird at me.

Lamp: They had bigger and bigger dreams, and then everyone got so big, they had to stop eating foods that made them dream big. The moral of this story is that you should wash your hands twice a day.

What are you scared of?

Sketchbook: Medium-sized rodents.

Tony: 7:00pm.

Shrignold: Whatever you're scared of.

Colin: A pound of sand.

Spinach Can: Mud crunching.

Steak Guy: Holes in pudding.

Lamp: The big night sky we’ll all get lost in one day.

What are your hobbies?

Sketchbook: Throwing vegetables at paintings, you should try it one day.

Tony: Watching people blink.

Shrignold: I sew clothes for my friends, but their first question is always, “How do you know my exact measurements? I never told you them.” You just can’t please everyone.

Colin: Data analyzation, accounting, coding, excessive security measurements.

Spinach Can: It’s beach ball related, if you know what I mean.

Steak Guy: Meat hobbies.

Lamp: Finding used cigarettes on the ground and taping them together to make a big cigarette, I call it The Ultimate.

What is your favorite song?

Sketchbook: Banging plastic together, if thats a song.

Tony: The Screaming Album, 1938.

Shrignold: I made all of them up.

Colin: Trapezoid Angles by Super Henry 3

Spinach Can: Four of them and they’re bad.

Steak Guy: Just noises?

Lamp: Mr. Bungle

Where do you go on holiday?

Sketchbook: My imaginary imagination place.

Tony: I just walk around.

Colin: If I leave my house, I die instantly.

Shrignold: Every day is a holiday if you know what you're doing.

Spinach Can: Mister Loopy’s Pizza Restaurant that I keep getting kicked out of.

Steak Guy: Where all the pigs are.

Lamp: Nightmare Land.

Who do you love?

Sketchbook: The letter B

Tony: Boys? Girls?

Shrignold: Please don't.

Colin: My toothpaste bottle cap.

Spinach Can: Cheese thrown against the window.

Steak Guy: Finger soup! Teeth! Orphans!

Lamp: The giraffe I met once, that I went on adventures with.

What is love?

Sketchbook: Anything that smiles.

Tony: Something not very important.

Shrignold: Do you want me to tell you? I’m a little busy.

Colin: One of the twelve main Brain Viruses.

Spinach Can: Endless sink drains.

Steak Guy: A string of hair. A lot of hair.

Lamp: It grows two legs, and then one day it’ll kill you.

What do you dream of?

Sketchbook: Pools and pools of blood tubes.

Tony: It all became a blur to me, I had to stop before I went mad.

Shrignold: So many little squirrels eating me.

Colin: Untied shoelaces.

Spinach Can: Peanuts, but they keep spelling their name wrong.

Steak Guy: Markets that only sell one type of vinegar oil.

Lamp: I can’t dream, I have a condition.

[gazs-blue-hat]

Simon Riley Reblog Masterlist

Here's everything I have ever rebloged about Simon Riley. Be it art, blurbs, whatever, you'll find it here.

Art Masterlist

Scary Dog Privilege- X Reader Art

Going Dark

Gorgeous

Dad!Simon pt.2

Glare

Soap's Simp Folder

I Don't Know Why I Bite

Big Guy

Comfort

Working Hard (or Hardly Working)

Autopsy

At the Gym

Smoke Break

You Fucked Up

Retired

Dad!Simon pt.1

Unmasked

Riley and Riley

Gone Fishin’

Fluff Masterlist

Ghost as a partner

Dead Disco- Chapter 9

A Good Father- (Wife!Reader)

Welder!Ghost Imagine

Firefighter AU

Disobedience

Great Kisser

Secret Wife pt.2

Oversized T-shirt

Nightmare- (Hurt/Comfort)

Pornstar!Ghost- Safeword

Adoration

Mama's Boy- (Hurt/Comfort)

Secret Lovers

Pornstar!Ghost- Matching Set

Hush

Girl Dad

Sleepy

Dog Dad

Observant

Lovely

Pornstar!Ghost- Aftercare

Worried About you

Wash it Away

Dark Vision- (Hurt/Comfort)

A Proper Name

Touch

Like A Horror Movie- (Hurt/Comfort)

Actions More Than Words

Lime-Sized

Just Like You

Face Shielding

Lazarus- (Hurt/Comfort) (NOT X READER)

Pillows

Panic

Not in a Long Time

Street lamps and Stories

Vows

Home

Angst Masterlist

Sand in His Pockets

Zombie!Ghost- Roommate

Hold on

Humming- (Dead Disco Zombie Au)

Shadows Of The Past

The Experiments

How Many Fingers?

Bitten

Smut Masterlist (Anything Sexy Really)

Need It- (Sub!Ghost x GN!Reader)

Overstim- (Husband!Simon)

Period Sex Symbiote AU

Something to Break the Tension- (Car Sex)

Body Worship

Mirror Sex

Black Metal and Bourbon pt.2

On a Slow Night

Pornstar!Ghost- Solace

Symbiote AU

Pornstar!Ghost- Accidentally On Purpose

And On The Seventh Day

Pornstar!Ghost- Make It Personal

Something to Make It Worse

Love Language

Edging

The Sun- Epilogue

Masks

Feeling you

King and Knight Ghoap

Husband!Ghost

Pillow princess!Simon

Tears

Closer

Just Practice

Crack Masterlist

Dad Jokes

Goober

Everything Else

Snowblind- (Series Masterlist)

Ghosts and Mirages- (Series Masterlist)

Ghost Masterlist by @charnelhouse

Light On- (Series Masterlist)

[nerdyenby]

Lime time :D I’m watching Jimmy

Pregame

Joel and Jimmy’s messages 😭 “You’re gonna lose babe” “bro I’m going to knock you off in tgttos babe. But you always my bad boy xoxo” OH MY GOSH THEM

Jim seeing someone’s skin being Grian in a lot pink dress with cat ears “holy moly, you look good” this guy

I haven’t seen Callum’s costume but I gotta look it up now

OH MY GOODNESS CALLUM

I blame Sneeg /lh

Scott mentioning having two corsets on and Callums “oh that sounds kinda hot, let me see” GOODNESS

I need this team actually: Jimmy, Callum, Scott, and Lizzie it’d be incredible

Hi Kara!!!!!

I’m gonna blame Jimmy telling Scott “Good luck, don’t win” for cyan’s loss

“Should I take my performance enhancing drug?” “Uh… how much of this is a joke?” “… like 20%” “Oh yeah, take it”

“But also consider this: we’re gamers” “I do forget that sometimes”

Jimmy getting a flawless bowspam kill my beloved <33

“I like this team more every time we speak” so true Callum

Parkour Tag

Them talking for like three minutes about how fast Kara pees is ridiculous /pos

Callum’s in a silly goofy mood lol

I’m just vibing :)

Callum 17th lmao, I remember when that meme started

Rocket Spleef

ALL the graphics are cool!!

Bridge to Terebithia reference 😭

What’s with them and talking about sweaty hands??? Lol

Callum is just SPEWING references lmao

Sands of Time

“I’ll be daddy!!!” “You mean sand keeper?” The second hand embarrassment, my goodness

“Has anyone ever run back in?” Kara repping all the impulsive thoughts girlies, real and true

“I usually do it just because I don’t trust anyone to do it, but I trust you” this team is so sweet, Jimmy was so honored <33

Jimmy’s so good at this, everyone else I’ve watched was frazzled by it being early but he’s just in the zone

“Thanks for the update sand daddy” “no worries son” “… sand son?” “sand son.” I love them :))

Is there a reason Jimmy doesn’t fill it all the way? I understand keeping a sand or two in hand for emergency rescues but he consistently doesn’t fill it

This is one of the calmest sots I’ve ever watched, there is stress going on but they’re just so chill

Tied 3rd!!!!

Callum shouting out Ranboo first individual and everyone being so surprised and hyped for them :))

Sky Battle

Oh that was so sad :(

Literally what just happened lmao, the endings on this map are so chaotic (not a bad thing but it’s a lot and no one was ready)

Jimmy keeps dying in the most tragic ways, what the heck :(

Ace Race

I zone out for two minutes and Callum is talking about waffling??

I love when teams don’t mute but everyone goes silent so it’s just the occasional grumble /g

Ace race is so iconic, it’s such a chill stress

Jimmy keeps having tech issues :(

Battle Box

Callum’s all “not to IGL, but…” and proceeds to shyly be the best IGL I’ve ever seen, my man, don’t back down, you got this <33

That second round was so clean!!

“Callum my IGL” SO TRUE PETE!!

“First place shmirst place!!.. I don’t trash talk very well” “Yeah, you might need to work on that”

THEY DID IT :DD my lime <3333

Yo they’re so close to second!!!!! 70 coins, man

Grid Runners

Jimmy motivational speech :))

Pete blowing Callum a kiss through the dividers lol

“We’ve grid ran before” so true Callum cpk

The way they got light the lamps first when absolutely silent lmao

Kara carry?!!!!

You need shears Jimmy 😭😭😭

Kara is carrying, she’s been figuring out every room and calling the shots, good for her <33

TGTTOSAWAF

“Oh you little…. Jimmy I’m gonna need you to deafen real quick” Kara my beloved <33

Jimmy just laughing at Callum’s swear, so true

“Surely we all get one” yeah, there’s no such thing as a pg tgttos lol

Tgttosawaf should never be played in the last half, can I get an amen??

Jimmy’s having such a time :( his audio keeps breaking

3rd!!! Heck yeah!!!!!

Callum being excited about not being 17th lmao

Pete asking who he came second to and everyone excitedly saying Jojo and him being hyped for her “oh, what and honor” <333

Dodgebolt

This was such a fun team, great time :))

Kara rooting for Dave “he’s just like me fr”

Jimmy and Pete’s banter is everything, actually

Jimmy can’t catch a break!! What is up with the bad boys and having tech issues this MCC???

Them all having little to no preference is so real of them

[frozen-fountain]

ROYGBIV Tag

Thank you @late-to-the-fandom for the tag!

Rules: Search your WIP for the colours of the rainbow and post the excerpt. (I'm bending this and taking from a variety of fics, so they're all present.)

In turn I tag: @visualheresy, @runicmagitek, @keioschaos, @ourspecial, @frogs-in3-hills, @hrh-spinach, and @bees-and-sunshine!

Red

"The reddish light in the corridor, just like the lamp in their room, stopped her in her tracks. She hurried along to the wide window and stumbled back at the sight of it. It festered like an abscess in the sky, a black void ringed with red, glowing with palpable malice. Small and far away, but drawing all eyes toward it" - You Grow the Flowers Yourself.

Orange

"'Looks like we're good to go,' said Elena, standing vigil over the bubbling kettle. She'd set out their food on paper plates, arranged in a colourful flotilla; sliced beef cured with woodsmoke and lemongrass, spicy dried seaweed, pumpkin cookies, glutinous rice balls, a grab bag of nuts and seeds, and wedges of orange melon salted and preserved in lime. Yuffie would have made the journey with a skin of water and a pack of jerky in her bag, for the mountains provided their own bounty of bitter berries and mushrooms hidden under fallen leaves – if one knew where to look, and which were only edible once" - Spiced Black Tea.

Yellow

"The town watched from a distance as the Saucer went up, a prized gem that crowned the rolling beige beneath it, a bauble hung in the air over cracked, necrotic ground. “I wanna be Master Tonberry!” went the cry on the playground, every year as one ended and another began, and a higher-pitched “No, you were Master Tonberry last year, gimme the trowel!” followed. The cut-throat competition for the starring role spilled out after school hours and into the streets on the walk home, boys and girls in short pants brandishing any shiny metal implement they could get their grubby hands on. The winter play lost a little of its dark magic once you got behind the stage and saw how they made it happen – two tiny yellow bulbs poking out of a black cloth.

It took shape out of the darkness as the gate was raised, Dio's voice booming overhead while Barret reloaded, a trail of blood washed across the neon and noise of those suspended corridors on the way to the battle arena. The roar of the crowd, two little lights emerging from the pit and then a head took form, a roughspun robe with a lantern swinging in one hand and in the other, the knife, sharpened on the rocks of the underworld and gleaming in the spotlight. Barret let his jaw fall only for a moment, put up his shoulders, took aim -

Easy when they don't speak, ain't it? Just those two evil little eyes, shufflin' towards you" - Aperture Priority.

Green

"Celes trailed a hand dark with soil among the lotuses. The mirror-flat of the water shattered at her touch, the only movement in the greenhouse. Edgar built it just for her, her green hideaway below the dunes – probably, and she smiled to herself, after she expressed but a momentary speculative doubt that he could. But the sands had never bested him yet. Water summoned from springs deep below the earth passed through the engines that gave life to the castle, where it warmed on its way to trickle down among the seed beds. Dense condensation lent a ruddy glow to the windows, an invitation to all in passing to find her fragrant patch of green, and all the colours that bloomed there. A rainbow under skies that turned grey nary twice in a year" - Fogged Windows.

Blue

"Elena followed and took the rope uncoiling from the ground in both hands, wrapping her legs around it as she jumped into nothing. Her shoes fell from her feet, one after the other lost to the blue, and she laughed. The Highwind lurched forward and took her with it, hanging in mid-air over the glimmering sea sprawl of Costa del Sol. From some new and unknown cavity of her chest she found the air to laugh some more, buffeted by the salt wind as she clung to the rope and the women above her who held it. Below they swarmed in their all-black uniforms. Ant-like and indistinguishable from one another as they raised arms to take back something that was never theirs" - Dulosis.

Indigo

"They touched down in the foothills on what the crew swore was a morning, but the northern winters saw no sun for most of the day and they made their way from the ship into cloud-banked indigo gloom. Elmyra carried her materia in a small black briefcase and stepped onto the ground with a stamp as the snow cracked under her feet. 'I've never seen it like this,' she said, with a few falling flakes catching and glittering in the hair that strayed about her face. 'Where I grew up, we got frost on the ground and nothing more'" - Into the Night Uncharted (yes! I have one!).

Violet

"Outside the window was a grove of slim cedars, the herb garden, and Mireille hunched over on her knees. As Elena whisked oil with the sherry vinegar brewed by Runa over the river, Mireille sat transfixed by late summer flowers. Deep violet, dark red. Small splashes of violence against the drab earth colours the old woman made her uniform" - Dulosis.

[sergioguymanproust]

4,000 years ago in Mesopotamia according to records the mixing of soda ,sand and lime when heated resulted in glass .The first creations were beads that could be found in bracelets ,necklaces and other trinkets.There are some stories circulating that claim the Assyrians noticed how their pot after burning at high temperatures turned to glass ,as a matter of fact one of the oldest recipes of how to make glass comes from the library of king Ashurbanipal in the year 658 BC. Glass has indeed a very interesting history .On a more personal note I worked in the lighting business for many years and one of the table lamp collection that were created was the Etruscan design vase ,we bought Italian vases that were purposely buried for a year to obtain a glass that had a frosted look similar to amphorae of that civilization.As a beachcomber I often collect glass shards that have been polished by the sea,smooth and frosted looking ,nothing fancy you might say but to me glass is indeed an interesting material . Okinawa is famous for its glass souvenirs ,coaster ,beads ,candle holders, tiles,etc. The story goes that after WW2 tons of coke bottles that were brought for the soldiers to enjoy,were dumped on the island’s countryside. The locals back then begun to melt those bottles and create beautiful tiles they could sell and make some money.Well,I hope you have enjoyed reading a bit about glass and its history.Words by Sergio GuymanProust.

[mythofstarlilly]

100+ Inspo Words and Ideas

Animals

​

Giraffe

Jaguar

Elephant

Bear

Snow Leopard

Panther

Squirrels

Fox

Rhino

Wolf

Leopard

Elk

Peacock

Tiger

Butterfly

Lynx

Badger

Parrot

Macaw

Panda

Red Panda

Skunk

Whale

Jellyfish

Owl

Horse

Moth

Swan

Orcas

Octupus

Seahorse

Koi Fish

Crow

Stingray

Deer

Bee

Angelfish

Bat

Dragonfly

Crocodile

Goldfish

Monkey

Turtle

Sloth

Shark

Frog

Dolphin

Crab

Rabbit

Hedgehog

Lion

Coyote

Zebra

Goat

Snake

Penguin

Seal

Fish

Otter

Bird

Cat

Dog

Raccoon

Puffer Fish

Crane

Lizard

Bug

Axolotl

Caterpillar

Eel

Eagle

Falcon

Firefly

Gorilla

Spider

Plants/Flowers

Violet

Snowdrop

Primrose

Cactus

Pansy

Lilac

Carnation

Daisy

Snake Plant

Lily

Sunflower

Wllow Tree

Rose

Succulent

Poppies

Aspens

Peperomia

Azalea

Mushroom

Coral

Tulip

Leaf

Acorn

Eucalyptus

Lavender

Cherry Blossom

Lotus

Vines

Jade Plant

Monstera

Ivy

Hydrangeas

Leaf

Wild Flowers

Sage

Bamboo

Orchids

Rubber Plant

Holly

Oak Tree

Palm Tree

Hibiscus

Bluebells

Hawthorn

Pothos

Magnolia

Rattle Snake Plant

Buttercup

Iris

Aster

Bellflower

Dahlia

Coral

Objects

Lights

Treasure

Ship

Map

Car

Train

Book

Ticket

Bow and Arrow

Trash Can

Axe

Key

Knife

Necklace

Lantern

Candle

Mug

Camera

Glasses

Piano

Mirror

Chess Piece

Trident

Crown

Seashells

Crystals

Lamp

Swing

Fossil

Hot Air Ballon

Sword

Tent

Campfire

Snowflake

Potion

Skull

Planet

Sand Dollar

Tea Pot

Tea Cup

Dreamcatcher

Perfume

Compass

Wand

Globe

Umbrella

Lock

Button

Ring

Neon Sign

Headphones

Flag

Bike

Sparkler

Snow Globe

Hour Glass

Anchor

Stained Glass

Radio

Watering Can

​Stuffed Animal

Concepts/Ideas

Fall

Winter

Dreams

Summer

Spring

Enchanted

Tranquil

Mysterious

Ancient

Hope

Overgrown

Sparkly

Adventure

Calm

Wicked

Fancy

Royal

Happy

Marble

Chaotic

Colorful

Angry

Sad

Wet

Deep

Lush

Wonder

Flowing

Dizzy

Bubble

Vintage

Love

Haunted

Electricity

Patterns

Memory

Shadow

Food

Grapefruit

Cotton Candy

Waffle

Lemonade

Tomato

Ice Cream

Blueberry

Strawberry

Cherry

Egg

Hot Cocoa

Pie

Apple

Cake

Donut

Star Fruit

Kiwi

Raspberry

Carrot

Avocado

Coffee

Dragon Fruit

Banana

Orange

Peach

Watermelon

Margarita

Shake

Tea

Lime

Lemon

Honey

Peas

Pineapple

Mango

Gummy Bear

Juice

Iced Tea

Cupcake

Yogurt

Popsicles

Pancakes

Lollipop

Hamburger

Bread

Pear

Grape

Landscape/Nature

Waterfall

Lake

Galaxy

Mountains

​Storm

Cliff

Rocks

Clouds

Desert

Jungle

Trees

Forest

Rainbow

Ocean

Meadow

Rain

Beach

Volcano

River

Canyon

Snow

Hiking Trail

Underwater

Cave

Waves

Sunset

Cove

Valley

Swamp

Arctic

Lightning

Flower Field

Dune

Marsh

Hills

​

Structures

Bridge

Castle

Stairs

House

City

Temple

Window

Door

Famous Structure

Lighthouse

Gazebo

Cottage

Fountain

Allyway

Faris Wheel

Cafe

Book Store

Arch Way

Sidewalk

Lamp Post

Market

Store

Balcony

[swordmouse]

A ranking of solid minecraft blocks by edibility

1. Dried Kelp Block, Hay Bale, Melon, Mushroom Stem, Red Mushroom Block, Brown Mushroom Block. These are blocks that you can more or less break into edible components. The best of the best if you’re eating solid minecraft blocks.

2. Blue Ice, Frosted Ice, Ice, Packed Ice, Snow Block. Who doesn’t love to crunch on some ice? Add some flavored syrup and these could be snow cones.

3. Nether Wart Block, Pumpkin. Sort of food-adjacent. You can make pie out of pumpkins, and it really feels like you ought to be able to eat nether wart.

4. Leaves, Carved Pumpkin, Grass Block. You might be able to derive some nutrients from these. Probably won’t be a pleasant meal, though.

5. Purpur Block, Purpur Pillar. I was initially going to put these way lower on the list, until I realized that purpur is made out of cooked fruit, making these blocks technically fruit tarts.

6. Scaffolding. Some bamboo is edible. Dried bamboo with a side of string is less edible.

7. Shulker Box, Slime Block. Are shulkers like insects? Is a shulker box their exoskeleton? Slime blocks might be a bit like lime jello. These blocks are both monster byproducts. Probably both edible. Definitely not vegetarian.

8. Coral Block, Bone Block, Infested Chiseled Stone Bricks, Infested Cobblestone, Infested Cracked Stone Bricks, Infested Mossy Stone Bricks, Infested Stone, Infested Stone Bricks. Crunchier than is ideal, but there may be some marrow in bone blocks, and the coral animal in coral blocks, which would make both blocks potential sources of protein. Silverfish are almost definitely edible.

9. Grass Path, Dead Coral Block. You saw my approval of grass and coral as potential mediocre food sources and thought, what if I ate a deader, more trampled, worse version of that?��

10. Block of Gold. Sometimes rich people put edible gold leaf on their food for fun. You can technically eat a block of gold, but you deserve the guillotine if you do.

11. Clay, Dirt, Coarse Dirt, Podzol, Red Sand, Sand, Mycelium. If you find yourself wanting to eat these blocks, you almost definitely have pica.

12. Soul Sand. You have pica and also eat souls, I guess.

13. Log, Planks, Wood, Barrel, Bookshelf, Cartography Table, Stripped Wood, Crafting Table, Fletching Table. These are wood. Unless you’re a termite, probably don’t eat these.

14. Wool. I diagnose you with moth.

15. Sponge, Wet Sponge. Just kind of gross. Can you imagine the texture?

16. Prismarine, Prismarine Bricks, Dark Prismarine. Unknown edibility, probably too crunchy.

17. Nether Bricks, Red Nether Bricks, Smithing Table, Glazed Terracotta, Terracotta, Bricks, End Stone Bricks, Terracotta. Definitely too crunchy. Don’t eat bricks, kids.

18. Jukebox, Command Block, Dispenser, Dropper, Note Block, Observer, Redstone Lamp. Machinery is generally inedible. Don’t.

19. Block of Coal. You’ll get the gastrointestinal version of black lung.

20. Concrete, Concrete Powder. That’s conk crete, babey!! Probably don’t eat concrete, though.

21. Beacon. If you eat a beacon, do you think your body is transparent enough that the beam will go through? The light can pass through you when you stand on top of it…. You’d need to eat a beacon base too, though.

22. Andesite, Block of Diamond, Block of Emerald, Block of Iron, Block of Quartz, Block of Redstone, Chiseled Quartz Block, Chiseled Red Sandstone, Chiseled Sandstone, Chiseled Stone Bricks, Coal Ore, Cobblestone, Cracked Stone Bricks, Cut Red Sandstone, Cut Sandstone, Diamond Ore, Diorite, Emerald Ore, End Stone, Mossy Cobblestone, Mossy Stone Bricks, Nether Quartz Ore, Netherrack, Obsidian, Polished Andesite, Polished Diorite, Polished Granite, Glowstone, Gold Ore, Granite, Gravel, Iron Ore, Lapis Lazuli Block, Lapis Lazuli Ore, Smooth Quartz, Smooth Red Sandstone, Smooth Sandstone, Smooth Stone, Stone, Red Sandstone, Redstone Ore, Sandstone, Quartz Pillar. I’m not just gonna sit here and rank the edibility of all these rocks and minerals. Just don’t eat them. You’d probably break your teeth anyway.

23. Bedrock, Barrier. You’d definitely break your teeth.

24. Stained Glass, Glass, Sea Lantern. Unless your teeth are enchanted with silk touch, these will shatter in your mouth. 

25. Blast Furnace, Furnace, Smoker, Jack o'Lantern, Magma Block. Might set your mouth on fire, and not in a fun spicy way.

26. TNT. Don’t.

27. End Gateway. I have no idea what this would do to your body if you ate it. It is very pretty, though. If you eat it, eat it for science.

28. Spawner. Five word horror story: Mouth Full Of Cave Spiders.

[toomanyfandomsorkinafs]

Yeah sure.

Brain Coral Bubble Coral Fire coral Horn coral Tube coral

Brain Coral block Bubble Coral block Fire coral block Horn coral block Tube coral block

Brain Coral fan Bubble Coral fan Fire coral fan Horn coral fan Tube coral fan

Dead Brain Coral Dead Bubble Coral Dead Fire coral Dead Horn coral Dead Tube coral

Dead Brain Coral block Dead Bubble Coral block Dead Fire coral block Dead Horn coral block Dead Tube coral block

Dead Brain Coral fan Dead Bubble Coral fan Dead Fire coral fan Dead Horn coral fan Dead Tube coral fan

Blue ice Ice Packed ice Snow Snow block

Dried Kelp block Kelp Seagrass

Sponge Wet Sponge

Dark Prismarine Dark Prismarine Slab Dark Prismarine Stairs Prismarine Prismarine wall Prismarine Slab Prismarine Stairs Prismarine bricks Prismarine brick Slab Prismarine brick Stairs

Black Banner Blue Banner Light Blue Banner Cyan Banner Yellow Banner White Banner Orange banner Green Banner Lime Banner Red banner Pink Banner Purple Banner Magenta Banner Gray Banner Light Gray Banner Brown Banner Ominous Banner Illager Banner

Black Concrete Brown Concrete Blue Concrete Light Blue Concrete Cyan Concrete Yellow Concrete White Concrete Orange Concrete Green Concrete Lime Concrete Red Concrete Pink Concrete Purple Concrete Magenta Concrete Gray Concrete Light Gray concrete

Black Concrete powder Brown Concrete powder Blue Concrete powder Light Blue Concrete powder Cyan Concrete powder Yellow Concrete powder White Concrete powder Orange Concrete powder Green Concrete powder Lime Concrete powder Red Concrete powder Pink Concrete powder Purple Concrete powder Magenta Concrete powder Gray Concrete powder Light Gray concrete powder

Barrier Bedrock Command Block End portal frame Structure Block Structure void

Clay Coarse Dirt Dirt Grass Block Dirt Path Farmland Rooted Dirt Gravel Mud Mycelium Podzol Red Sand Sand

Chorus Plant Chorus Flower

End Stone. End Stone Brick End Stone Brick slab End Stone Brick stairs End Stone Brick wall

Purpur Block Purpur pillar Purpur stairs Purpur slab

Glass

Black Stained Glass White Stained Glass Light Gray Stained Glass Blue Stained Glass Gray Stained Glass Cyan Stained Glass Light Blue Stained Glass Yellow Stained Glass Orange Stained Glass Red Stained Glass Pink Stained Glass Purple Stained Glass Green Stained Glass Lime Stained Glass Magenta Stained Glass Brown Stained Glass

Glass Pane

Black Stained Glass pane White Stained Glass pane Light Gray Stained Glass pane Blue Stained Glass pane Gray Stained Glass pane Cyan Stained Glass pane Light Blue Stained Glass pane Yellow Stained Glass pane Orange Stained Glass pane Red Stained Glass pane Pink Stained Glass pane Purple Stained Glass pane Green Stained Glass pane Lime Stained Glass pane Magenta Stained Glass pane Brown Stained Glass pane

Creeper Head Dragon Head Wither Skeleton Head Player Head Skeleton Head Zombie Head

Black Candle Brown Candle Blue Candle Light Blue Candle Cyan Candle Yellow Candle White Candle Orange Candle Green Candle Lime Candle Red Candle Pink Candle Purple Candle Magenta Candle Gray Candle Light Gray candle

Campfire Soul Campfire

Lantern Soul Lantern Redstone Lamp Jack o’Lantern

End Rod Glowstone Stroomlight

Pearlescent Froglight Oche Froglight Verdant Froglight

Sea Lantern Sea Pickle

Torch Soul Torch

Block of Iron Block of Raw Iron Iron Bars Chain Deepslate Iron Ore

Block of Gold Block of Raw Gold Deepslate Gold Ore Gold Ore

Deepslate Diamond Ore Diamond Block Diamond Ore

Emerald Block Emerald Ore Deepslate Emerald Ore

Block of Lapis Lazuli Lapis Lazuli Ore Deepslate Lapis Lazuli Ore

Crying Obsidian. Obsidian

Block of Coal Deepslate Coal Ore Coal Ore

Block of Copper Exposed Copper Weathered Copper Oxidized Copper Waxed Block of Copper Waxed Exposed Copper Waxed Weathered Copper   Waxed Oxidized Copper Cut Copper Exposed Cut Copper Weathered Cut Copper Oxidized Cut Copper Waxed Cut Copper Waxed Exposed Cut Copper Waxed Weathered Cut Copper Waxed Oxidized Cut Copper. Copper stairs Exposed Copper stairs Weathered Copper stairs Oxidized Copper stairs Waxed Block of Copper stairs Waxed Exposed Copper stairs Waxed Weathered Copper stairs Waxed Oxidized Copper stairs Cut Copper stairs Exposed Cut Copper stairs Weathered Cut Copper stairs Oxidized Cut Copper stairs Waxed Cut Copper stairs Waxed Exposed Cut Copper stairs Waxed Weathered Cut Copper stairs Waxed Oxidized Cut Copper stairs Copper slab Exposed Copper slab Weathered Copper slab Oxidized Copper slab Waxed Block of Copper slab Waxed Exposed Copper slab Waxed Weathered Copper slab Waxed Oxidized Copper slab Cut Copper slab Exposed Cut Copper slab Weathered Cut Copper slab Oxidized Cut Copper slab Waxed Cut Copper slab Waxed Exposed Cut Copper slab Waxed Weathered Cut Copper slab Waxed Oxidized Cut Copper slab Block of Raw Copper Deepslate Copper Ore Copper Ore

Spawner

Infested Stone Infested Cobblestone Infested Chiseled Stone Bricks Infested Cracked Stone Bricks Infested Mossy Stone Bricks Infested Stone Bricks

Sculk Catalyst Sculk Sculk Vein Sculk Shrieker

Bees Nest Honeycomb Block

Frogspawn

Basalt Polished Basalt Smooth Basalt

Want me to continue?

[thumbgarden]

7 Tips on How to Grow Strong & Healthy Seedlings

Successful cultivation of healthy seedlings requires correct agricultural techniques. If the work is carried out qualitatively and meets the requirements of sowing technology and care, then seedling raising is not a difficult process, and the planting material is planted in an absolutely healthy and permanent place. However, there are cases when healthy, friendly seedlings begin to wilt, and after 1-3 days, the seedlings die completely. The cause may be non-infectious plant damage related to violation of agronomic requirements of cultivation conditions (insufficient light, low temperature, high humidity, over-fertilization, etc.), so that weak seedlings affected by soil infection in the form of fungal and bacterial diseases blackleg, rot and other forms. This article is devoted to how to avoid seedling diseases caused by cultivation errors and how to overcome blackleg and other infections.

SIMPLE RULES FOR RAISING HEALTHY SEEDLINGS Most of the agrotechnical measures are preventive, but if these simple measures are not followed, it won't be easy to raise healthy seedlings.

1. Sterilize seedling soil mixtures Disinfection of soil and soil mixture should be carried out as a mandatory agronomic measure when raising seedlings in containers, pots, boxes, and other vessels. If you do not have time to sterilize the soil mixture in advance, you can do so before planting using one of the recommended methods or your own original method. Pour the prepared soil into boiling water and dissolve manganese (1-2% solution) in the water. Stir and dry the spilled soil for 2-3 days. Repeat the procedure after 3 days with a solution of soda water. Dissolve 100 g of baking soda per 2.5 Gal (10 liters) of water. At each reception, the soil is dried and agitated. 2 weeks before sowing, treat the soil mixture with a biological agent according to the recommendations: Universal Organic Biofungicide. The soil can be treated with a Bordeaux mixture (1% solution) or copper sulfate (0.5% solution) before sowing. The concentration of the solution should be low so as not to burn the young roots during germination. After all disinfection procedures, dry the soil mixture, fill the container with warm water heated to 75°F (24°C), and sow the seeds in moist soil.

Be found. Seedlings grown in peat pots and plastic boxes were virtually free of blackleg disease.

2. Maintaining a neutral soil environment Acidic soil conditions are favorable for the development of soil fungal infections. Therefore, it is necessary to test the acidity of the soil (with litmus paper) before sowing. The best is considered to be pH = 6.0-6.5. Lime, dolomite powder, and wood ash are used to neutralize the soil. A neutral environment is very important for seedlings. As soil acidity increases, some nutrients become unavailable to the plants. Some gardeners treat the soil under seedlings with dry ash and add sand to maintain a neutral response of the soil while drying it out with excess moisture.

3. Maintaining the density of seedlings and sprouts In large greenhouses, it is necessary to sow seeds at the recommended rate and not to overestimate the density of plants. Seedlings that are too dense can be broken up by pulling out weaker plants: do not pull out, but pull out weaker shoots at the soil level. Thickened seedlings create their own moist microclimate and provoke the growth of disease-causing fungi. When cutting seedlings, leave a distance of 0.6-0.8inch (1.5-2 cm) between seedlings, which will ensure good ventilation and sufficient light for each seedling. When sowing seedlings into individual containers, it is best to sow 2 seeds per plant, and after germination, pull out the weak plants (you can also pull them up).

4. Observe the air and soil temperature regime As a rule, crops grown through seedlings are heat-loving. Therefore, the necessary levels of air and soil temperatures need to be strictly maintained. Seed germination begins with air temperatures within 60-64°F (16-18°C), but the most aggressive sprouts emerge when air temperatures rise to 77-86°F (25-30°C), depending on the culture. Immediately after mass germination, the air temperature must drop to 60-64°F (16-18°C) so that seedlings do not elongate. In this mode, seedlings rapidly form root systems. Therefore, the optimum regime for seedlings of most vegetable crops is 68-77°F (20-25°C) during the day and 60-64°F (16-18°C) at night. Soil temperature is no less important for seedlings. Too much cold, as well as too much heat, can lead to the suppression of seedlings. The optimum condition is 64-71°F (18-22°C). It is especially important to maintain this soil temperature regime during the harvesting process. A drop in temperature below 60 °F (16 °C) will result in deterioration of nutrient and water reception by the plant and reduced energy for seedling roots.

5. Irrigation regime and air humidity observations The soil under the seedlings should be kept moderately moist. Sprouts should be watered in the morning with water heated to 68°F (20°C) no more than 1-2 times per week, but better after the soil surface has dried. Water the seedlings along the edges of the container when growing at home or along the furrow in the greenhouse. Water the seedlings during the first 6-10 days so that the water does not get on the plants. Frequent and heavy watering can deteriorate the air regime of the soil and the activity of the root system. In addition, high humidity of soil and air promotes the rapid development of fungal diseases, and seedlings may die. Therefore, after watering, strongly moistened soil should be dried with dry sand (which is better) or watered through trays instead. You can use finely ground topsoil peat or dry humus to cover the watered soil. The optimum humidity level in the room should be kept at 70-75%. Ventilate the room to reduce humidity, but do not air it out.

6. Without extra light, you cannot get quality seedlings If the conditions at home allow it and you do not need many seedlings, then place the container on a windowsill where the daylight shines. Sometimes, however, additional lighting is needed regardless of the number of seedlings planted, especially when sowing seeds in January-February. For seedlings, a minimum of 12-14 hours of light per day is recommended, but in early spring and winter, plants receive up to 50% of the required light. At low light intensities, plants will shrivel, elongate and bend toward the light source. Therefore, lights are installed in family rooms and greenhouses to provide seedlings with the necessary level and intensity of light, but not with hot lights, but special - cold light. Usually, the heavy light nursery is carried out from 7 a.m. to 8 p.m. Many gardeners use daylight from plant lights or fluorescent lamps. Now, most greenhouse gardeners are switching to LED lights. They emit a red and blue spectrum that improves seedling development, give off little heat, and are very energy efficient.

7. Don't over-fertilize seedlings Buy ready-made soil mixes for home seedlings that do not require additional fertilizers, especially nitrogen. If the soil mixture is self-cooking, the plants will have to be fertilized. Although with a properly prepared soil mixture, you can do without fertilizer, especially since crops, seedlings have a very short germination period (27-35 days). Normally growing plants have green leaves and strong stems that do not need nutrients. Excessive nitrogen nutrition is very painful for young seedlings. It causes the elongation of plants and their accommodation. Stems become thin and light, internodes elongate, and leaves - a painful dark green shade. The general weakening of the plants helps to accelerate the infection of the crop. To avoid over-fertilization, it is not necessary to fertilize seedlings before harvesting. Within 7-15 days after picking, foliar application of "nitro phosphate and potassium-based high-efficiency complex fertilizer," ash infusion, and the addition of growth promoters and others. If the nitrogen content of seedlings is too high, you can spend a lot of water and immediately drain the trays of water and cover the soil with dry sand in layers not exceeding 0.8inch (2 cm). Small sawdust or grain bran, or finely chopped straw can be placed on the soil surface. Soil microorganisms will begin to break down the fiber and use the excess nitrogen in the soil for this purpose. To improve the nutrient balance during this period, you can spray the plants with Solgar (Chelated Iron).

MEASURES TO CONTROL SEEDLING DISEASES Agrochemical measures are the quickest and most reliable way to protect seedlings from diseases. Among these diseases, fungal and bacterial infections are the most pernicious ones. Particularly dangerous for young seedlings is blackleg. The degree of damage from this disease is very high - up to epizootic. Within 2-3 days, the plant roots are affected by the growing fungus, and the seedlings die. That is why it is so important to observe all agrotechnical requirements of seedlings.

1. What contributes to the development of black legs on seedlings? Despite all preparations for planting seedlings, some typical soil fungal spores, called sclerotia, remain alive and dormant. They accumulate on soil, plant residues, seeds, and wooden greenhouse props. The accumulated infection, under the right conditions, begins to multiply vigorously. The fungus proliferates in the soil. Plants are infected at the roots, and the infection manifests itself as wilting and lodging of seedlings. The spots of individual diseased plants merge into one continuous field within a short period of time. If seedlings are not treated immediately, they will die completely. In order to protect the plants adequately, agricultural techniques and agrochemical works should be carried out simultaneously.

2. Distinctive features of blackleg disease If all agrotechnical requirements are complied with, but seedlings are lodged in separate, rapidly increasing centers, this means that the seedlings or already young ones are already sick. In the case of black stem disease, the stem turns black at the roots, and a black cross can be clearly seen. The disease is caused by several types of soil fungi: some fungi affect the seedlings during the first days of their development. Diseased seedlings during this period turn black, harden, and rot in the areas where the fungus sprouts inside the plant (roots, root neck, lower part of the seedling). Other categories of fungi affect mature seedlings ready for planting. It manifests itself as thinning and darkening (to black) of the root neck and drying of the lesioned part. The plants do not die, but planted in the ground for a long time, they become sick and formless healthy products (especially crops with affected cabbage heads).

3. What should I do if my seedlings get the blackleg disease? The first days of germination are usually not watered to avoid provoking lodging. If the development of the disease cannot be prevented, the diseased plant should be removed and burned. The part of the soil where the diseased plant is located should also be removed, and the area should be treated with an ash soak. Usually, such a solution is prepared in advance so that no valuable time is lost. Dissolve 2 cups of wood ash in 0.25-0.5 Gal (1-2 liters) of boiling water. Influence for 6-7 hours. Filter and dilute in 2.3-2.5 Gal (9-10 liters) of warm water. Spray plants and soil with this solution, approximately 0.25 Gal/11 sq. ft. At home, you will need to arrange the tray with the seedlings in one place before spraying. After 5-7 days after 100% germination, treat with a fine dispersion spray with a solution of humic acid, which can significantly improve the plant's immunity while having a negative effect on pests. The solution is prepared at the rate of 1 capful per 2.5 Gal (10 l) of warm water. Other immune preparations can also be used. Today, experts offer a huge list of chemical and biochemical agents that help protect seedlings from various diseases, including blackleg disease. With independently cultured seedlings, the use of biological agents is much safer for the family's health. They effectively kill soil fungi and fungal diseases on plants and are absolutely harmless to humans and pets. Biological fungicides prepared according to the instructions can be systematically sprayed on plants and soil during the entire period of seedling cultivation, which will fully protect them not only from blackleg but also from rots, powdery mildew, phylloxera, pearl fungus, and other diseases. According to the recommendations for spraying and application to the soil - Trichodermin, etc.

An effective way to combat blackleg is loosening and starting the soil. Loosening of the crust will increase the access of oxygen to the roots and eliminate the process of decay. Within 2-3 days of mass germination, gently soak and water the sprouts using troughs and trenches. Seedlings should be kept dry during this period. Before picking the plants, as a precaution, treat the soil mixture with colloidal sulfur at a rate of 5 grams per 11 square feet. Kemira fertilizer can be added to the soil mixture in very small doses and mixed thoroughly. The available form and availability of micronutrients in the fertilizer will help the plants adapt to their new environment more quickly after harvesting. Some gardeners add preparations of "fungal biological preparations for the prevention and treatment of plants" to the soil mixture and mix it well before picking the seedlings to prevent blackleg disease. Plants treated with this soil treatment do not actually get the blackleg disease. Copper-containing preparations inhibit not only fungal but also viral infections. Therefore, it is recommended to apply them to protect mature seedlings from blackleg disease before planting in permanent locations. Before planting, the above-mentioned preparations are introduced into the well as a solution of phytosporin, Trichodermin. If not prepared, then each hole was watered with a 1% solution of manganese the day before transplanting, before planting the seedlings. Thus, observing all the requirements of agricultural engineering for seedling cultivation, it is possible to obtain healthy planting material. Would you please share tips and proven methods for healthy seedlings in the comments of this article?

#ThumbGarden #GardeningTips #Howtogrow #Strong #Healthy #Seedlings #Sprouting #Germination #Seeds #Bordeauxmixture #Tips #Organics #Evergreens #Garden #Diseases #Fertilize #Soils #Watering #Plantcare #Care #Inspired

Author: Ms.Geneva Link: https://www.thumbgarden.com/strong-healthy-seedlings/ Source: ThumbGarden The copyright belongs to the author. For commercial reprints, please contact the author for authorization, and for non-commercial reprints, please indicate the source.

[nauseateddrive]

4 POEMS by Jake Sheff

Elegy for Dog I: A Failed Acrostic

January was tired when it became king. Apples here love being red in the spring, Casting shadows against the stone architraves our Kapellmeister will never live down. You Stole Apollo’s cows, and let them graze to show me Heaven’s template. Where do failed heroes go? Eucalyptus cupolas and polar icecaps Frame the downtrodden gods. But you weren’t Freakishly wrong, as I so often am, on your

Joyride through nearly twice eight years, Á la someone far from beauty’s stepmom. Copper coin or grimacing sun? I’ve got 20,000 Kor of crushed grief on this threshing floor. Shark-sparks of sadness flood the impetiginous air… How, and why, do clouds cobblestone Entire days, and lakes, when you’re not here? Fixing every broken thing, poets go where Ferns and geraniums baptize the morning.

“Jur-any-oms,” is how you’d spell it; After all, a dog’s a dog, and wisdom knows futility. Cassations make a rusty brew, to drink the truth of truths, and Kill whatever ceases wanting to be new. Stewardship, the color of gravity’s silence, naturally Houses every “glur” (a glittery blur); go chase what plays Eternal games. I hear the swans by Rooster Rock. Your handsome Face, its happy handsomeness, in memory’s eye, goes in and out of Focus; in love’s better eye: your goodness neath its everblooming ficus.

Gravity and Grace on SW Murray Scholls Drive

“Impatience has ruined many excellent men who, rejecting the slow, sure way, court destruction by rising too quickly.” Tacitus, The Annals of Imperial Rome

The traffic lights control the people’s actions, but Not their feelings, as the limits of philosophy Collide head on with the nose of a Dalmatian.

I tell you, the day is stress-testing itself, and these Sidewalks wish that it’d just gone straight. Geese Take this sky-hairing wind for granted, as they

Land on the lake like memorable speech on The sensitive soul. Time is never sharp, but it’s Cutting something in the credit union. Maybe

It’s dancing a back Corte for the woman in line Thinking about the taste of limes from Temecula As she waits for the teller. Air Alaska and that

Haunted pie in the sky are not the only reasons For all the volatility in the air today. Rushing And perfectionism both produce a loss; behind

The Safeway Pharmacy, you’ll see the small Smells of both, sloshing around to the ticking- Sound of the ocean’s tides. I must admit, I am

Frozen in place by the sight of steam from Joe’s Burgers; it is poetry’s pale tongue, rising in And arousing the air. This neighborhood’s street-

Lights are more serious than kokeshi dolls. Lights From its windows outshine poison dart frogs. Maybe to forget about life for awhile, the lamps

Are focused on The Population Bomb? ‘Easy Tiger,’ all these incidents whisper. Each day’s A sign twirler’s dais; each corner a promise

Of something more in a different direction: it isn’t A marriageable daughter or impoverishment, But inguinal ingenuity plays a part, and that isn’t

Bad at all. What oaths and paths went here Before Walmart? What voices were voided by The liquor store? What are vague’s values

When the library shares a parking lot with a 24- Hour gym and a cargo cult? Gas stations satirize                                                ��                          The Queen of Hearts; I tell you, it makes every

Question seem incidental. Treaty-breakers in Pajamas swing on the swing sets. Was August That full of angst? It feels like autumn went too

Far on accident. Desertification, in a sugar tong Splint, takes a shot of ouzo and talks shit About the death of Brutus, but my Bible-thumping

Memory – on a ski hill in Duluth – is also too busy Watching some ducks on the lake to notice; and Desertification makes a face at me like a Swedish

Film. Poets make for poorly picked men to Familiarity’s paymaster-general. The Calvinistic Rain is an ill-starred attempt to make mayonnaise-

Fries just for me, but I must admit, it all seems – You know – cybernetic. And step-motherly as all Get out, if you ask the trees. They prefer “You

Can’t Hurry Love,” by The Supremes, to any Changes that take effect in one to two pay periods. Pretext ricochets; a perfect reverse promenade.

At Summer Lake, When the Vegetables are Sleeping

Cruelty drinks all the wine, and never gets drunk On these shores. When Summer Lake speaks, In every word, an introduction to the world. I am

Easily duped. The greatest duper duplicates my pride, Which always lingers, in the hallways of my heart And beneath the surface of Summer Lake. The sky is

Supplicating, it’s literally shaking. An hour passes Faster here, the hour always held too dearly dear In paranoid and ivied walls. The ducks can do

An unwise thing correctly, and it sounds more like Dusty than Buffalo Springfield to the enokitake Sold in Springfield, Illinois, which is the opposite

Effect it has on the wild mushrooms on these shores. On cables capable of love, the geese convince The weather to taste like kvass today. Basically,

Another Cuban Missile Crisis drowned itself just Now. The clouds might ask themselves, ‘Is lowliness Allowed here?’ To which the crows might ask,

‘Does omertà sound like lightning?’ The answer’s Oubliette is ten times worse than impotence. Summer Lake isn’t smart, but it stays quiet, like

Someone too smart to say all they know. ‘Whoa, Sweet potato,’ the capital gains tax mutters To itself, knowing that what matters doesn’t mean

A thing. Some say the lake bottom’s sands receive Commands from Hearst Castle, others say Its hands are King City’s hands, and still others

Maintain more sins have been than grains of sand Times secondary gains, and that explains The beauty and industry that none can see but

All can feel on these shores. (Some possibilities Play possum, or get opsonized by hate; this one snores Like Rip Van Winkle.) This orb-weaver spider is

The Milton Friedman of Summer Lake, the wind On her web is Grenache from The Rocks District Of Milton-Freewater AVA for the eyes. The day is

Stereotypical, although it feels like three days In one…But for the lake’s good counterfactual Questions, I would forget that some die young,

But most die wrong. I’ve tried to pick up Summer Lake’s reflections in three lines or less, but The hardest truth is your own impotence. Oh,

It’s hard to hand your power over to a thing No one can see. Hopped up on distinctions – not The obvious distinctions – Summer Lake is pretty;

Cold, but pretty! In the distance, with so many Intercessory prayers, hot air balloons are rising; Shaped like teardrops, upside down and rising.

This lake re-something-or-anothered me. Are first Impressions wrong sometimes? I am a season’s Golden calf, according to the sunlight, doing

A prospector’s jig on the surface of Summer Lake. If not for the Weimar Republic’s wooden- Headedness, I’d set down my heart-song and

Listen to reason on these shores. I never trust An activist guitar, if the weather is socially clumsy. The future is reflected on the lake: it always

Laughs at us – between its math and gratitude Lessons – and never thinks of (or gives thanks to) Us enough. The presence in the lake juniors

My ears. The day is not too baffling, nor is it Jane Eyre. Space-themed and spiritual, some autumn Leaves are swimming in the rain. The ducks arrest

My attention in the mardy weather, even though they Must know my attention is dying. The barbed wire Around my stated goal is an outcome out of

Their control. Picnickers picnic with acorns and apricots, On blankets covering Holy Schnikey’s death mask. My unsandaled thoughts thrive and increase on these,

And no other shores. They are pets for the days less Important than love, when Summer Lake says it’s Humble, because it knows the right thing to say.

Summer Lake gives the comfort of commonly held And seriously absurd beliefs to the blue heron. Nothing is wrong with this lake or anything in it,

Not even the ghost of Amerigo Vespucci. It’s all so Simple to the stiff-necked molecules of water, made out Of frogs and snails and puppy-dog’s tails. These thoughts

Are fine manna in a fine ditch. Post-structuralist squirrels Can tell my heart’s in Italy, and I’m in the intellectual Laity. Chivalry’s technician sees my shovel, and they say,

‘You’ve got to hand it to him.’ Neurocysticercosis Sets the bar high; it looks at this park, and thinks The smartest monkey drew the perfect landscape.

That’s this maple tree’s previous disease, its precious One. It unfurls the ferns of my firm and foremost Beliefs, I’m told, to partialize insufferable vastidity.

We Install a Sump Pump on (What Used To Be) a Holiday (Take 2)

The oppressive heat was born a fully grown Man. I admire the result of its effort, but Despise the means of achieving it. My wife Asserts her individuality in the gunk; her Body’s allegations aren’t too soft or hard today. Her self-interest seems to have drowned in the vortex.

Our little garden knows flippancy with regards To privacy is unwise. The stepping stones can Only blather, as slugs draw nomograms on Their faces. My wife’s body speaks Proto-Indo- European in the vortex and denim overalls. Marc Chagall’s The Poet studies her. He calls her

‘Innocence: The opposite of life! A criminal with A badge!’ I hand her the tools of a crude and Rudimentary faith, and she says, ‘Jill, great books Make fine shackles.’ Her arms only have An administrative objective in the vortex, but They are where good things come from.

Jake Sheff is a pediatrician in Oregon and veteran of the US Air Force. He's married with a daughter and whole lot of pets. Poems of Jake’s are in Radius, The Ekphrastic Review, Crab Orchard Review, The Cossack Review and elsewhere. He won 1st place in the 2017 SFPA speculative poetry contest and a Laureate's Choice prize in the 2019 Maria W. Faust Sonnet Contest. Past poems and short stories have been nominated for the Best of the Net Anthology and the Pushcart Prize. His chapbook is “Looting Versailles” (Alabaster Leaves Publishing).

[kyungsoodaily]

exo as summer aesthetics

spotify playlist here // a lot of this was stream-of-consciousness so it’s definitely not all cohesive or thematic, but most of them are based off the general mood of each song // i might turn these into moodboards or ficlets if i have the energy // exosnet mods forgive me i have no idea how to tag this

minseok | zebra, beach house —

people watching, drive-in movie theatres, macarons, going to the pet store just to look at the animals, the sound of wind chimes, going through old photos, toothpaste kisses, singing softly when you have trouble falling asleep, mint chocolate chip ice cream, cleaning out your closet, poppyseed bagels, hiking in the mountains, messy doodles on sticky notes

junmyeon | good as gold, greyson chance —

honey and butter on toast, art museum dates, red wine, cuffed jeans, biking through the city, silk robes, running into friends you haven’t seen in years, seaside resorts, marathoning studio ghibli films, sweet potato fries, bird watching, accidentally coordinating outfits when you hang out, planetarium trips, crystal balls, falling asleep on you in the back of a taxi

yixing | hope, honeywater —

scribbling song lyrics on napkins, zoo trips, jumping over cracks in the sidewalk, scrambled eggs, trying on clothes you don’t plan on actually buying, daisies, ferris wheel rides, stealing bites of each other’s food, arcade games, gold jewelry, feeding squirrels in the park, butterfly kisses, fried chicken, taking silly pictures in front of famous landmarks

baekhyun | another night on mars, the maine —

sleepovers in your backyard, glittery eyeshadow, eating too much watermelon, tarot cards, kaleidoscopes, impromptu beach trips, shaved ice, binging an entire show in three days, ripped jeans, sticking your head out of the car window, forehead kisses, fruit smoothies, reminiscing about the past, setting off fireworks, cold pizza, singing along to the radio, neon lights

jongdae | she changes the weather, swim deep —

ice cream sandwiches, tight hugs after long absences, early morning dewdrops, nap dates, not caring who notices when you laugh too loudly, hand-knit sweaters, white wine, childhood lullabies, the smell of the air after it rains, potato chips, marking important dates on your calendar, karaoke with friends, gummy bears, falling asleep on the couch, chrysanthemum tea

chanyeol | coastline, hollow coves —

silly string, playing video games for twelve hours straight, flickering street lamps, stomping in rain puddles, bonfires, sand between your toes, catching fireflies, blanket forts, foosball, giving your short friends piggyback rides, collecting guitar picks, half-empty spraypaint cans, rock concerts, eskimo kisses, microwave popcorn, driving fast when the roads are empty

kyungsoo | nova scotia, magic man —

grease-stained napkins, going off the forest trail, scented candles, sucking on ice cubes, worn sneakers, calling just to hear your voice, petting stray cats, honeysuckle, making ramyun at two in the morning, pistachio ice cream, sitting on the roof, homemade cookies, neck kisses, laundry still warm from the dryer, wading knee-deep into a creek, watching the clouds at sunrise

jongin | generation why, conan gray —

sliding around in sock feet, slushies, skinny dipping, letterman jackets, sneaking out after dark, gas station hot dogs, getting stuck in traffic, matching bracelets, lipstick stains, winning stuffed animals at the fair, maple syrup, sunday morning comic strips, dying your friend’s hair in their bathroom, cheesecake, going to the movie theatre for a midnight premiere

sehun | oh baby, lcd soundsystem —

sour candy, late evening strolls, grass under your bare feet, key lime pie, clean bedsheets, falling asleep with your limbs tangled together, shortcuts no one else knows about, fresh seafood, forgetting where you put your keys but then accidentally finding something you lost five years ago, strawberry lemonade, cheek kisses, exchanging secrets under cover of darkness

[themousefromfantasyland]

The Nutcracker and the Mouse King (4/14)

A classic Christmas fairy tale

Told by E.T.A. Hoffman

Chapter Four: Wonders Upon Wonders

In the sitting-room of the Doctor's house, just as you enter the room, there stands on the left hand, close against the wall, a high glass-case, in which the children preserve all the beautiful things which are given to them every year. Louise was quite a little girl when her father had the case made by a skilful joiner, who set in it such large, clear panes of glass, and arranged all the parts so well together, that every thing looked much brighter and handsomer when on its shelves than when it was held in the hands. On the upper shelf, which Marie and Fritz were unable to reach, stood all Godfather Drosselmeier's curious machines. Immediately below​this was a shelf for the picture-books; the two lower shelves Marie and Fritz filled up as they pleased, but it always happened that Marie used the lower one as a house for her dolls, while Fritz, on the contrary, cantoned his troops in the one above.

And so it happened to-day, for while Fritz set his hussars in order above, Marie, having laid Miss Trutchen aside, and having installed the new and sweetly dressed doll in her best furnished chamber below, had invited herself to tea with her. I have said that the chamber was well furnished, and it is true; here was a nice chintz sofa and several tiny chairs, there stood a tea-table, but above all, there was a clean, white little bed for her doll to repose upon. All these things were arranged in one corner of the glass case, the sides of which were hung with gay pictures, and it will readily be supposed, that in such a chamber the new doll, Miss Clara, must have found herself very comfortable.

​It was now late in the evening, and night, indeed, was close at hand, and Godfather Drosselmeier had long since gone home, yet still the children could not leave the glass-case, although their mother repeatedly told them that it was high time to go to bed. "It is true," cried Fritz at last; "the poor fellows (meaning his hussars) would like to get a little rest, and as long as I am here, not one of them will dare to nod—I know that."

With these words he went up to bed, but Marie begged very hard, "Only leave me here a little while, dear mother. I have two or three things to attend to, and when they are done I will go immediately to bed." Marie was a very good and sensible child, and therefore her mother could leave her alone with her play-things without anxiety. But for fear she might become so much interested in her new doll and other presents as to forget the lights which burned around the glass case, her mother blew them all out, and left only the lamp which hung clown ​from the ceiling in the middle of the chamber, and which diffused a soft, pleasant light.

"Come in soon, dear Marie, or you will not be up in time to-morrow morning," called her mother, as she went up to bed. There was something Marie had at heart to do, which she had not told her mother, though she knew not the reason why; and as soon as she found herself alone she went quickly about it. She still carried in her arms the wounded Nutcracker, rolled up in her pocket handkerchief. Now she laid him carefully upon the table, unrolled the handkerchief softly, and examined his wound.

Nutcracker was very pale, but still he smiled so kindly and sorrowfully that it went straight to Marie's heart. "Ah! Nutcracker, Nutcracker, do not be angry at brother Fritz because he hurt you so, he did not mean to be so rough; it is the wild soldier's life with his hussars that has made him a little hard-hearted, but otherwise he is a good fellow, I can assure you. Now I will tend you very ​carefully until you are well and merry again; as to fastening in your teeth and setting your shoulders, that Godfather Drosselmeier must do; he understands such things."

But Marie was hardly able to finish the sentence, for as she mentioned the name of Drosselmeier, friend Nutcracker made a terrible wry face, and there darted something out of his eyes like green sparkling flashes. Marie was just going to fall into a dreadful fright, when behold, it was the sad smiling face of the honest Nutcracker again, which she saw before her, and she knew now that it must be the glare of the lamp, which, stirred by the draught, had flared up, and distorted Nutcracker's features so strangely. "Am I not a foolish girl," she said, "to be so easily frightened, and to think that a wooden puppet could make faces at me? But I love Nutcracker too well, because he is so droll and so good tempered; therefore he shall be taken good care of as he deserves."

With this ​Marie took friend Nutcracker in her arms, walked to the glass case, stooped down, and said to her new doll, "Pray, Miss Clara, be so good as to give up your bed to the sick and wounded Nutcracker, and make out as well as you can with the sofa, Remember that you are well and hearty, or you would not have such fat red cheeks, and very few little dolls have such nice sofas."

Miss Clara, in her gay Christmas attire, looked very grand and haughty, and would not even say "Muck." "But why should I stand upon ceremony?" said Marie, and she took out the bed, laid little Nutcracker down upon it softly, and gently rolled a nice ribbon which she wore around her waist, about his poor shoulders, and then drew the bedclothes over him snugly, so that there was nothing to be seen of him below the nose. "He shan't stay with the naughty Clara," she said, and raised the bed with Nutcracker in it to the shelf above, and placed it ​close by the pretty village, where Fred's hussars were quartered. She locked the case, and was about to go up to bed, when—listen children—when softly, softly it began to rustle, and to whisper, and to rattle round and round, under the hearth, behind the chairs, behind the cupboards and glass case.

The great clock whir—red louder and louder, but it could not strike. Marie turned towards it, and there the large gilt owl that sat on the top, had dropped down its wings, so that they covered the whole face, and it stretched out its ugly head with the short crooked beak, and looked just like a cat. And the clock whirred louder in plain words.

"Dick—ry, dick—ry, dock—whirr, softly clock, Mouse-King has a fine ear—prr—prr—pum—pum—the old song let him hear—prr—prr—pum—pum—or he might—run away in a fright—now clock strike softly and light." And pum—pum, it went with a dull deadened sound twelve times.

Marie began now to tremble ​with, fear, and she was upon the point of running out of the room in terror, when she beheld Godfather Drosselmeier, who sat in the owl's place on the top of the clock, and had hung down the skirts of his brown coat just like wings. But she took courage, and cried out loudly, with sobs, "Godfather Drosselmeier, Godfather Drosselmeier, what are you doing up there? Come down, and do not frighten me so, you naughty Godfather Drosselmeier!"

Just then a wild squeaking and whimpering broke out on all sides, and then there was a running, trotting and galloping behind the walls, as if a thousand little feet were in motion, and a thousand little lights flashed out of the crevices in the floor. But they were not lights—no—they were sparkling little eyes, and Marie perceived that mice were all around, peeping out and working their way into the room. Presently it went trot—trot—hop—hop about the chamber, and more and more mice, in greater or ​smaller parties galloped across, and at last placed themselves in line and column, just as Fritz was accustomed to place his soldiers when they went to battle. This Maria thought was very droll, and as she had not that aversion to mice which most children have, her terror was gradually leaving her, when all at once there arose a squeaking so terrible and piercing, that it seemed as if ice-cold water was poured down her back. Ah, what now did she see!

I know, my worthy reader Friedrich, that thy heart, like that of the wise and brave soldier Friedrich Stahlbaum, sits in the right place, but if thou hadst seen what Marie now beheld, thou wouldst certainly have run away; yes, I believe that thou wouldst have jumped as quickly as possible into bed, and then have drawn the covering over thine ears much farther than was necessary to keep thee warm.

Alas! poor Marie could not do that now, for—listen children—close before her feet, there burst out sand and ​lime and crumbled wall stones, as if thrown up by some subterranean force, and seven mice-heads with seven sparkling crowns rose out of the floor, sqeaking and squealing terribly.

Presently the mouse's body to which these seven heads belonged, worked its way out, and the great mouse crowned with the seven diadems, squeaking loudly, huzzaed in full chorus, as he advanced to meet his army, which at once set itself in motion, and hott—hott—trot—trot it went—alas, straight towards the glass case—straight towards poor Marie who stood close before it!

Her heart had before beat so terribly from anxiety and fear, that she thought it would leap out of her bosom, and then she knew she must die; but now it seemed as if the blood stood still in her veins. Half fainting, she tottered backward, when clatter—clatter—rattle—rattle it went—and a glass pane which she had struck with her elbow fell in pieces at her feet. She ​felt at the moment a sharp pain in her left arm, but her heart all at once became much lighter, she heard no more squeaking and squealing, all had become still, and although she did not dare to look, yet she believed that the mice, frightened by the clatter of the broken glass, had retreated into their holes. But what was that again! Close behind her in the glass case a strange bustling and rustling began, and little fine voices were heard. "Up, up, awake—arms take—awake—to the fight—this night—up, up—to the fight." And all the while something rang out clear and sweet like little bells. "Ah, that is my clear musical clock!" exclaimed Marie joyfully, and turned quickly to look.

She then saw how it flashed and lightened strangely in the glass case, and there was a great stir and bustle upon the shelves. Many little figures crossed up and down by each other, and worked and stretched out their arms as if they were making ready.

And now, Nutcracker ​raised himself all of a sudden, threw the bedclothes clear off, and leaped with both feet at once out of bed, crying aloud, "Crack—crack—crack—stupid pack—drive mouse back—stupid pack—crack—crack—mouse—back—crick—crack—stupid pack."

With these words he drew his little sword, flourished it in the air, and exclaimed, "My loving vassals, friends and brothers, will you stand by me in the hard fight?" Straightway three Scaramouches, a Harlequin, four Chimney-sweepers, two Guitar-players and a drummer cried out, "Yes, my lord, we will follow you with fidelity and courage—we will march with you to battle—to victory or death," and then rushed after the fiery Nutcracker, who ventured the dangerous leap down from the upper shelf. Ah, it was easy enough for them to perform this feat, for beside the fine garments of thick cloth and silk which they wore, the inside of their bodies were made of cotton and tow, so that they came down plump, like bags of ​wool.

But poor Nutcracker had certainly broken his arms or his legs, for remember, it was almost two feet from the shelf where he stood to the floor, and his body was as brittle as if it had been cut out of Linden wood. Yes, Nutcracker would certainly have broken his arms or his legs, if, at the moment when he leaped, Miss Clara had not sprung quickly from the sofa, and caught the hero with his drawn sword in her soft arms. "Ah, thou dear, good Clara," sobbed Marie, "how I have wronged thee! Thou didst certainly resign thy bed willingly to little Nutcracker."

But Miss Clara now spoke, as she softly pressed the young hero to her silken bosom. "You will not, oh, my lord! sick and wounded as you are, share the dangers of the fight. See how your brave vassals assemble themselves, eager for the affray, and certain of conquest. Scaramouch, Harlequin, Chimney-sweepers, Guitar-players, Drummer, are all ready drawn up be​low, and the china figures on the shelf stir and move strangely! Will yon not, oh, my lord! repose upon the sofa, or from my arms look down upon your victory?" Thus spoke Clara, but Nutcracker demeaned himself very ungraciously, for he kicked and struggled so violently with his legs, that Clara was obliged to set him quickly down upon the floor. He then, however, dropped gracefully upon one knee, and said, "Fair lady, the recollection of thy favor and condescension will go with me into the battle and the strife."

Clara then stooped so low that she could take him by the arm, raised him gently from his knees, took off her bespangled girdle, and was about to throw it across his neck, but little Nutcracker stepped two paces backward, laid his hand upon his breast, and said very earnestly, "Not so, fair lady, lavish not thy favors thus upon me, for—" he stopped, sighed heavily, tore off the ribbon which Marie had bound about his ​shoulders, pressed it to his lips, hung it across him like a scarf, and then boldly flourishing his bright little blade, leaped like a bird over the edge of the glass case upon the floor.

You understand my kind and good readers and listeners, that Nutcracker, even before he had thus come to life, had felt very sensibly the kindness and love which Marie had shown towards him, and it was because he had become so partial to her, that he would not receive and wear the girdle of Miss Clara, although it shone and sparkled so brightly. The true and faithful Nutcracker preferred to wear Maria's simple ribbon. But what will now happen? As soon as Nutcracker had leaped out, the squeaking and whistling was heard again. Ah, it is under the large table, that the hateful mice have concealed their countless bands, and high above them all towers the dreadful mouse with seven heads! What will now happen!

[architectnews]

Four Houses in One, Brno

Four Houses in One, Brno Apartments Project, Czech Residential Architecture, Housing Buildings, Images

Four Houses in One in Brno

11 May 2021

Four Houses in One

Design: Kuba & Pilař architekti

Location: Neumannova Street 578/17, Brno, Czech Republic

The Four Houses in One building is located in a quiet residential Masaryk district, full of quality pre-war functionalist architecture. The volume and spatial solution is based on the character and proportions of the nearest buildings.

Residential complex consists of four blocks of different sizes – apartment buildings – which protrude above the terrain from a common underground base. The set of buildings thus naturally fits into its surroundings. The site with a south-west orientation and an attractive view over the Brno Exhibition Centre to the Kohoutovice forest was the reason for the maximum orientation and the opening of the residential complex into this direction.

The apartment buildings descend along the slope, their height decreases towards the southern tip of the plot. The pair of buildings along Neumannova Street has four floors above the ground and one underground floor, which are connected by a staircase hall with elevators.

Two lower apartment buildings have three and two floors above the ground, and with their smaller volume they follow the size of villas along the lower part of the plot. Between the sidewalk of Neumannova Street and the upper apartment buildings, a semi-private living space with a seating area has been designed.

On the roof of the parking base between the individual buildings is a private courtyard with gardens connected to the apartments. They are separated by low hedges – gabion baskets planted with hornbeams. The set of buildings is built as a combined brick and reinforced concrete structure.

The facades are clad with clinker brick slips. The smooth surfaces of the fixed and sliding panels made of aluminium sheets provide contrast to the structured surface of the brick slips. The floors of common areas inside buildings, stairs and tiling of entrance vestibule are made of cast terrazzo. Ceilings, stairs and elevator shafts were made as structural elements from exposed concrete. The unifying element of the whole building is the concept of greenery, which will stand out more and more over the time.

Materials combined brick and reinforced concrete structure sand lime blocks – walls, partitions composite aluminum sheet – facade panels clinker brick slips – facade wood – window frames aluminum – skylight and entrance door frames steel – railings, entrance gates terrazzo – floors of common areas inside buildings, stairs cladding, vestibule wall cladding exposed concrete – ceilings of common corridors, stairs and some walls gypsum plaster – walls, ceilings

Products and Brands walls, partitions — Kalksandstein\www.kalksandstein.cz composite facade sheet — Albond\www.albond.cz clinker brick slips Kontur 472 — Ströher\www.stroeher.com wooden window frames Europrofile 88 — PKS\www.pksokna.cz skylights and entrance doors — Schüco\www.schueco.com garage door — Hormann\www.hormann.cz elevators — ThyssenKrupp\https://ift.tt/2RO39HC outdoor bench Woody — mmcité\www.mmcite.com door entry system Linea 300 — Bticino\www.bticino.com wooden floor Monopark — Bauwerk\www.bauwerk-parkett.com bathroom tiles Stonework — Marazzi\www.marazzigroup.com switches and wall plugs Asfora — Schneider\www.se.com all sanitary facilities — Laufen Pro\www.laufen.cz all bathroom faucets — Hansa\www.hansa.com radiators Radik Line Vertikal — Korado\www.korado.cz interior downlights Takeo 100, 200 — Neko lighting\www.nekolighting.com lights on loggias and balconies RAY 1.0 — WEVER & DUCRÉ Lighting\www.weverducre.com outdoor light Kube 240 — Simes\www.simes.it outdoor step lights Alfia — Ares\www.aresill.net street lamps Urba S — Thorn Lighting\www.thornlighting.cz

Design: Kuba & Pilař architekti

Studio Kuba & Pilař architekti Author Tomáš Pilař Ladislav Kuba Wojciech Wilczek Jan Kopecký

Project location Neumannova Street 578/17, Brno, Czech Republic GPS: 49.195090N, 16.578045E

Project year 2015-2018 Completion year 2020 Built-up Area 3322 sqm Usable Floor Area 3316 m² apartments Plot size 4036 m² Dimensions volume 23 066 m3 47 apartments

Client Neumann bytový dům Client’s website www.trikaya.cz Project website www.neumanka.cz

About studio Kuba & Pilař architekti is an architectural studio founded by Ladislav Kuba and Tomáš Pilař in 1996. The studio ranks among the most recognised ones in Czech Republic. Their buildings have been awarded several times in Grand Prix of Architects – the most prestigious national award for architects. In 2002, they won the main prize for the Library of the Faculty of Arts, Masaryk University in Brno. Other recognised buildings by the studio include the St. Mary’s Chapel in Jestřebí, Residental Estate Na Krutci in Prague and the Omega Department Store in Brno.

Designed by the studio, the building of the Faculty of Chemistry and Technology, University of Pardubice received the main prize in Grand Prix 2009. The Apartment House at Kostelní Square in Ostrava won the first place of Grand Prix 2011 in the New Building Category. In 2015, the Grand Prix certificate of merit went to the studio for the Iron Curtain Memorial. In 2020, they won the Grand Prix for the design of a family house in the Dyje Valley in Znojmo.

Their latest work include the building of the Faculty of Humanities, Charles University in Prague completed in 2020 and extension of the South Bohemian Scientific Library, which was put in use in April 2021.

The work of Kuba & Pilař architekti has been nominated for the European Union Prize for Contemporary Architecture – Mies van der Rohe Award several times and published in both national

Photographer: BoysPlayNice

Signature Restaurant in Brno images / information received 280417

Location: Brno, Czech Republic, central eastern Europe

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[niallsstainedcoffeecup]

The Third Birthday Party

Harry and Y/N plan the perfect birthday party for their son, Oliver.  Whenever the party strays from the plans, Y/N panics while Harry calms down his wife.  I hope you all enjoy.  Feedback and Requests are welcomed.  Lots of Love! ----------------------------------------

          The black lamp cast a warm, yellow glow around the bedroom.  The fresh paper pages brushed across Harry’s fingertips while Y/N’s whirring laptop eliminated the comfortable silence in the room. Harry pushed the thick, black glasses further up the bridge of his nose.  An exasperated sigh parted Y/N’s lips, a common noise Harry heard when Y/N emailed co-workers, but Harry counted five irritated sighs within the last hour, five sighs on a Friday were rare.  Harry tucked the homemade bookmarker, the one Oliver created last week in daycare, between the page’s spine.  He placed the folded glasses onto his nearby bedside table.           “Okay, what’s wrong?” Harry asked, facing Y/N’s scowling face.           Y/N huffed, keeping her eyes locked on the computer screen, “I’m looking over Oliver’s birthday itinerary.  Did you double-check with the museum about having that dinosaur man attend the party?”           Harry nodded, recalling the conversation with the museum’s secretary, who promised Mr. Archie Ohlogist would attend Oliver’s third birthday party.  Oliver adored dinosaurs, and when Anne took Oliver to the museum, Mr. Archie Ohlogist informed Oliver about the dinosaurs through cheerful tunes.            “Why do you keep checking the itinerary? Why does our three-year-old’s birthday party have an itinerary?  We never stressed over his birthday before,” Harry mumbled, pressing his lips to Y/N’s shoulder.           Y/N huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose, “We never stressed over his birthday because he couldn’t remember them. Your grandmother told me that children begin remembering memories when they turn three.  I do not want Oliver’s first memory to be about the worst birthday party ever.  He will think we are the worst parents.”           Harry chuckled, slipping the laptop from Y/N’s grip, “Love, you are far from the worst parent.  Tomorrow, Oliver will have the best birthday.”           Y/N giggled, cupping Harry’s jaw, “I love you. What would I do without you?”           Harry’s smug grin spread across his face, “You would still be looking over that itinerary.  I love you too.”           Y/N pressed her lips onto Harry’s rosy lips, “We should go to bed.”           “Are you sure?  We can practice making Oliver a new sibling,” Harry purred, nuzzling his nose against Y/N’s warm neck.           Y/N giggled, pulling Harry’s head away from her neck, “No, Oliver expects pancakes in the morning, and he only eats daddy’s pancakes.”           Harry smirked, flicking the lamp’s switch until the darkness swallowed the room, “I can add chef onto my long list of talents.”           Y/N snorted, wrapping her arms around Harry’s waist while she nuzzled her head against Harry’s back, “I wish I listened when the fans warned me about your praise kink.”           Harry chuckled, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s knuckles before closing his eyes.  The comfortable silence returned, lulling the couple to sleep.  Harry’s warm body washed away the worries from Y/N’s dreams. *          *          *          *          *          *

          Tiny footsteps approached the white bedroom door.  Oliver clutched the stuffed lime-green dinosaur under one arm while his other hand twisted the doorknob.  He tiptoed toward the loud snores coming from Harry’s open mouth. Oliver reached up, poking Harry’s bare bicep until Harry startled awake.             “Hey, little man.  Happy birthday,” Harry croaked out, gripping Oliver’s small hips to lift him onto the mattress.           Oliver giggled, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck, “Thank you, daddy.  Can we wake up mommy?”           Drool trailed down Y/N’s chin and onto the dark sheets.  Stray strands of hair covered her forehead while the rest tickled Harry’s arm.  Harry chuckled, glancing down at his beautiful wife’s fluttering eyelashes, “No, we better leave her asleep.  Are you excited about your party?”           Oliver nodded fervently, “Nana Anne and Aunt Gem are coming.”           Harry chuckled, tickling his son’s chubby stomach, “Do you love Aunt Gem more than me?”           Oliver squealed, squirming in Harry’s arms, “No, I love you because you’re my daddy.  I love Aunt Gem because she gives me chocolate.”           Harry nodded, “That is a good reason to love Aunt Gem.  Well, we need a proper breakfast to leave us energized for the party.  Should we eat oatmeal?”           Oliver scowled, sticking his pink tongue out to show his disgust.           Harry chuckled, cupping his jaw while acting as if he were deep in thought, “Hm, should we eat eggs?”           Oliver shook his head, pouting the more his father did not understand that he despised eggs.             Harry gasped, “What if we cooked pancakes?”           Oliver’s beaming grin spread across his face, “I want pancakes.”           Harry’s smile dropped, resulting in Oliver’s smile falling too, “We could make pancakes, but I can’t cook them alone.  I need two helpers, one person for mixing, and one person for reading the recipe.”           Oliver grinned, glancing down at the dinosaur still under his arm, “Theo and I can help you, daddy.”           “Theo the dinosaur can read?” Harry wondered aloud.           Oliver nodded, “He helps me read big books with mommy.”           Harry chuckled, “Okay, well, we better start on the pancakes.”           Harry carried the two tiny chefs toward the kitchen, where the pancake mix awaited Harry’s arrival.  Harry placed Oliver onto the gray marble counters while he scooped coffee grounds into the black coffeemaker.  A shocked gasp parted his lips when his eyes noticed the heavy rain trampling the freshly planted roses.  Yesterday, Harry and Y/N built sandpits, which contained plastic bones and treasure that the children could dig through during the party.  How could Oliver and his friends dig through the muddy sand and the rain? *          *          *          *          *          *

          Oliver dipped the thin pancake inside the syrup pool that he poured without Harry’s help.  Harry grinned, watching his son bounce his head from side to side while chewing the pancake.  Harry sipped the plain coffee and helped Oliver wipe the syrup rolling down his arm. Y/N shuffled into the kitchen, smiling widely at her son’s dimpled grin.           “Happy birthday.  Did daddy make you pancakes?” Y/N asked, pressing a kiss atop Oliver’s curly, brown locks.           Oliver nodded, pressing his sticky lips against Y/N’s cheek, “I like when daddy cooks pancakes because they don’t taste bad.”           Y/N giggled, rolling her eyes playfully, “You burn the pancakes once, and now, your son thinks you can’t cook.”           Y/N wiped the dried syrup off Oliver’s cheeks while ignoring Oliver’s complaints about being cleaned.  She decided she could wash the syrup off during Oliver’s bath.  She shuffled across the kitchen, wrapping her arms around Harry’s shoulders.           “Good morning, I missed you,” She whispered, pressing her lips onto Harry’s shoulder.           Harry spun around, smiling at his wife’s stunning smile, “I missed you too.”           Y/N giggled, brushed her lips along Harry’s soft lips.  Harry captured Y/N’s lips between his, allowing her to taste the mixture of syrup and coffee on his breath.  Y/N smiled, breaking the kiss before Oliver whined with disgust.             “Are you excited about your party?” Y/N asked, looking through the fogged kitchen window.           Y/N’s smile dropped the minute she spotted the rain pouring from the dark gray clouds hung above the neighborhood.  Her panicked mind roared over Oliver’s cheerful response.  Y/N and Harry planned the outdoor birthday party, without purchasing any inside activities, in case the weather turned their back on them like today.             Y/N spun around, noticing Harry’s sympathetic frown, “Have you checked the weather?”          Harry nodded, “The weatherman doesn’t see the rain stopping anytime soon.”           Y/N frowned, “We should cancel the party.”           Harry’s eyes widened, which led him toward Y/N’s tense figure, “Hey, it will be okay.  We can host the party inside.  I can go purchase a few games for the guests.  Oliver will still have the best birthday ever.”           Y/N smiled, hugging Harry’s sturdy figure, “I love you.  I will bath Oliver while you go to the shops.”           Harry nodded, kissing Y/N’s forehead before exiting the kitchen.  Y/N calmed her nervous heart with a few deep breathes before focusing her attention on the grinning little boy.  Oliver dipped his fingers inside the syrup pool, then dragged his fingers along the marble counters.  Y/N groaned, canceling Oliver’s art time by freeing him from the high chair.  She carried Oliver into the bathroom with the hope that the birthday could be saved. *          *          *          *          *          *

          Harry loaded the board game boxes into the sleek black car’s trunk.  He slipped the thin phone from his pocket, typing a new message to Y/N. Hey love, I bought enough board games for the party.  I’m heading home -H. The car’s engine roared to life while Harry skipped through radio stations.  Harry’s rings slapped against the steering wheel to the catchy beat.  An incoming call interrupted the radio host’s laser hair removal ad.           “Hello?” Harry answered, turning the radio down.           “Hello, is this Mr. Styles, this is Elizabeth with the museum,” The young girl mumbled softly.           Harry frowned, “Yes, this is Mr. Styles. Is there a problem?”           “I’m afraid there is a problem.  You hired Mr. Archie Ohlogist for your son’s birthday; however, Mr. Archie Ohlogist called in sick with the flu,” The young girl mumbled through fear.           Harry’s knuckles turned white from the grip around his steering wheel.  He promised Y/N that Oliver’s birthday party would happen without any problems, but here they were without the main entertainment.  Harry thanked the young girl for informing him, but his heart sunk when he pulled into the driveway.  He dropped the board games near the front door and kicked the wet loafers from his feet. His ears caught Y/N and Oliver singing along with Mr. Archie Ohlogist’s dinosaur rap album, which only worsened the churning in Harry’s stomach.  Harry trudged upstairs until he entered Oliver’s clean room.  Y/N buttoned Oliver’s salmon pink pants that she paired with Oliver’s black and white dinosaur shirt.  Y/N spotted Harry, shooting him a grin that faded once she spotted the pain in his eyes.           “Oli, I need to talk to your father.  Can you stay in here?” Y/N asked, wiping the stray curls from his eyes.           Oliver nodded, walking across the room toward the toybox filled with costumes and toys.  Y/N followed Harry into the hallway, where Oliver couldn’t hear the bad news.           “What happened? Y/N asked, crossing her arms across her chest.           Harry frowned, “Mr. Archie canceled on us. He caught the flu, so he won’t be here.”           Y/N shook her head, “Are you joking?  I can deal with rain, but now, the one person that our son wanted at his birthday party will not be here?  What will I tell him?  He will remember this birthday as the one where he wanted Mr. Archie, and we surprised him with some knock-off instead.”           Harry chuckled, wrapping his arms around his wife’s tense figure, “Hey, it will be okay.  One year, I asked my mom for batman pajamas, and she surprised me with spider man pajamas.  I didn’t get what I wanted for my birthday, but that didn’t matter because I got a gift while other kids never got gifts.  Our son will be okay.”           Y/N nodded, pressing her lips onto Harry’s lips, “I love you.  Will you tell Oli about the change of plans?”           Harry nodded, heading inside Oliver’s room while Y/N jogged downstairs.  She listened to Harry and Oliver sing Harry’s album while she cleaned around the living room. Her heart reassured her that Oliver would remember this birthday with positive memories. *          *          *          *          *          *

          The doorbell’s chime informed Oliver’s eager heart that one of his guests arrived.  A squeal bubbled past Oliver’s lips while his tiny hands shoved past Harry’s long legs. Oliver’s small feet carried him faster than the wind toward the front door.           “Who is it?” Oliver sang, reaching for the handle.           A muffled giggle slipped through the door, “Oli, it’s Aunt Gemma and Nana Anne.”           Oliver trusted the voice behind the door, but before his fingers could twist the knob, Harry’s booming voice startled Oliver’s hands away, “Oliver Styles, what have mommy and I told you about opening the door for strangers.”           Oliver pouted, facing his father’s furrowed eyebrows, “Aunt Gem told me that it was her.”           Harry frowned, scooping his son into his arms, “I understand, but that person behind the door could lie to you.  You should wait for mommy or daddy to open the door.”           Harry swung the door open, inviting his sister, his sister’s boyfriend, and his mother into the warm house.  Anne, Gemma, and Michal ditched their soggy shoes and dripping umbrellas.             “How is my birthday boy?” Anne asked, stealing Oliver from Harry’s arms.           Oliver giggled, dodging Anne’s lips that pressed kisses across his soft face, “I’m well.  Nana, did you see the rain?”           Anne nodded, “I did see the rain.  I’m glad that we are inside, so we don’t get sick.”           Oliver nodded eagerly, making everyone laugh from his antics, which caused him to crack more jokes.  Anne grinned, recalling moments when a three-year-old Harry performed music for his grandparents to bring smiles to their faces. She couldn’t believe how much Oliver acted like Harry did growing up.             “Can I hold the birthday boy?” Gemma asked, reaching for Oliver.           Anne grinned, passing a beaming Oliver toward Gemma.  Anne followed everyone into the living room, where she greeted Y/N and Harry without the toddler in her arms.  Gemma plopped herself and Oliver onto the black couch beside Michal.           “Do you feel old?” Gemma asked, poking Oliver’s dimple that all the Styles inherited.           Oliver giggled, shaking his head, “I’m still a baby.  Did you bring chocolate?”           “Oliver, we do not ask other people for candy,” Y/N warned the now pouting Oliver.          Gemma grinned, “It’s okay, Y/N.  I know that my nephew isn’t a mean kid.  He happens to be the sweetest little boy ever, and that is why Uncle Michal and I brought you some chocolate.”           Oliver cheered, yanking the chocolate bar from Gemma’s hands, “Thank you.”           Gemma nodded, admiring the way Michal helped Oliver unwrap the chocolate bar.  Harry grinned, wrapping his arm across Y/N’s shoulders.           “Thank you for giving our child sugar.  I can’t wait until you and Michal have children so I can fill them up with sugar,” Harry chuckled at Gemma’s playful glare.           Anne rolled her eyes, laughing softly at her children, “Y/N, they never grow up.  They can be twenty-something, and still, act like children.”           Y/N giggled, pressing her lips to Harry’s cheek, “Trust me, sometimes I feel like I have two children rather than one. When we go grocery shopping, Harry and Oliver whine until I let them leave for frozen yogurt while I finish the shopping.”           Harry pouted, crossing his arms over his chest, biting back the smile that threatened to unravel when everyone laughed.           Y/N pressed her lips against Harry’s dimple, “I’m kidding.  I love you.”           A dazed smile replaced Harry’s pout as he admired Y/N’s beauty, “I love you too.”           “Aunt Gemma, can we play hide and seek?” Oliver asked, wiping his chocolate-covered hands onto his t-shirt.           Gemma agreed, cleaning Oliver’s hands with a nearby napkin.  Gemma counted while Oliver and Michal searched for hiding places.  Y/N, Harry, and Anne watched Oliver play while they discussed recent events.  Y/N’s eyes noticed the clock ticking the time away, which left her wondering where the rest of Oliver’s guests were. *          *          *          *          *          *

          The messages flooded Y/N and Harry’s phones.  Adam and his family couldn’t attend the party because one of Adam’s kids caught the flu.  Oliver’s preschool friend, Danny, couldn’t attend the party because his mother couldn’t drive through the heavy rain.  Another friend would not attend the party because the parents did not get off work early. The guest list slowly dwindled until the only guests were the three guests, who were currently dancing with Oliver. Y/N huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose while Harry mumbled reassuring messages into Y/N’s tense shoulders.           “Hey, Oliver doesn’t care about the guests. Look how much fun he is having with my family,” Harry mumbled, peppering kisses up Y/N’s neck.           Y/N shrank from Harry’s lips, “Harry, I do not need your positivity right now.  What will Oliver remember from this birthday?  Nobody showed up, his parents failed to book his favorite dinosaur man, and we could not celebrate outside because of the rain.”           “The party might not fit our expectations, but our son loves the party.  He doesn’t need sandpits, tons of guests, and the dinosaur man for his birthday because we taught our son that all he needs is his family.  We did not fail our son, and we are not bad parents.  I love you, but I need you to stop worrying about Oliver’s memories.  I can barely remember shit from when I was three,” Harry firm lips and furrowed brows presented his stern message.           Y/N frowned, “I apologize for freaking out about the birthday party.  I want the best for Oliver, and I took things negatively when they didn’t work out with my plan.”           Harry captured Y/N’s lips with his own, pulling her body closer until their chests were flush against each other. Y/N smiled, wrapping her arms around Harry’s neck while Harry’s tongue explored her warm mouth.  Her fingers raked through his short curly hair, which brought Harry’s soft groans out.             “Oi, I didn’t visit your house to watch you two make out.  You better pull that roasted chicken from the oven before it burns,” Gemma scolded the blushing couple.           Y/N lowered her head, tearing away from Harry’s arms to grab the chicken from the oven.  Harry chuckled, catching his breath while avoiding his sister’s disgusted expression.  Gemma poured the sparkling red wine into glasses, holding back the laughter that stemmed from her brother and sister-in-law’s embarrassed grins.           “Well, I will leave you two to finish dinner. I pray that you focus on the food this time rather than one another’s mouths.  Your son is starving,” Gemma joked, shooting Y/N a wink before disappearing from the kitchen.           Y/N rolled her eyes, smirking at Harry’s flushed cheeks, “We are never making out with your family here again.”           Harry gasped, “Why not?  Gemma doesn’t care if we make out.  She’s lucky that she walked in on us making out, rather than us fucking.”           Y/N’s eyes widened, “Harry, your mother is in the next room.  Could you be any more vulgar?”           Harry smirked, pressing his palms against the cool marble counter, “I could, would you like to see it?”           Y/N chuckled, rolling her eyes, “Shut up, and help me carry the food into the dining room.”           Harry nodded, slapping his wife’s butt before grabbing the mashed potato dish from the counter.  Y/N rolled her eyes playfully before following Harry with the roasted chicken dish.  After the couple placed the dishes onto the dining room table, the family gathered around the table for the birthday feast.  Oliver munched on his favorite meal, roasted chicken with mashed potatoes and peas.  He finished the meal with the thought of birthday cake lurking within his mind. *          *          *          *          *          *

          “Happy birthday to you,” Everyone sang, watching Oliver’s dimpled grin grow wider with each verse.           Oliver’s eyes flickered between his singing family and the dinosaur-themed cake.  The brown frosting mimicked mud puddles that the plastic dinosaurs walked through.  The green frosting mimicked the grassy field where fondant trees grew.  Once everyone hit the last note, Oliver inhaled deeply, puffing his cheeks out before blowing onto the three rainbow candles.  He repeated the action until he extinguished all three candles.  Everyone clapped while Harry sliced the cake into individual slices.  Oliver licked his lips, poking his fork into the spongey chocolate cake.           “Who made the cake?” Anne asked, eating around the sugary icing.           Y/N grinned, wiping green frosting from Oliver’s eyebrow, “I found a local bakery that specializes in children’s cakes. The lady met with me and Oliver, where she sketched out Oliver’s dream cake.”           “That’s awesome.  The cake tastes delicious.  Do you like it, Oli?” Michal asked, chuckling when his nephew nodded through his mouthful of cake.           “Oliver isn’t the type to refuse any cake,” Harry informed his family.           Y/N giggled, nodding her head, “One time, Oliver visited my grandfather’s house, where he found my grandfather’s carrot cake.  The cake contained more carrot than actual spice cake, but Oliver finished every crumb and even licked the plate.”           Oliver chuckled as if he couldn’t believe the silly story.  The table erupted into laughter, which only increased Oliver’s giggles.  Once Oliver finished his slice of birthday cake, Y/N and Harry knew Oliver had an hour of energy left until he crashed.  If the couple waited any longer to unwrap presents, then Oliver would grow cranky from the need for sleep. *          *          *          *          *          *

          Oliver’s small hands ripped the sparkly green wrapping paper from the box.  Harry knelt beside his son’s small frame.  He helped Oliver rip the stubborn wrapping paper from the white box.  Once Oliver tore off the final piece of wrapping paper, he opened the white box, which contained gray and red dinosaur pajamas.           “A new set of dinosaur pajamas.  What do we say to Nana Anne?” Y/N asked, patting Oliver’s back.           Oliver smiled, toddling toward Anne’s open arms, “Thank you, Nana Anne.”           “You’re welcome, my sweet boy.  I also brought you a second gift,” Anne mumbled, pressing her lips against Oliver’s forehead.           Oliver returned to the pile of gifts, where he found Anne’s second gift.  He tore the box open, revealing two new stuffed animals.  Oliver squealed, dropping the gray dinosaur for the pastel pink unicorn.  Last week, Anne visited the shops with Oliver and Y/N.  In the toy store, Oliver stumbled past pink and blue princess costumes toward the pastel pink unicorn.  Anne purchased the toy without Oliver’s knowledge, while Y/N showed him the new costumes.           “What’s her name?” Harry asked, rubbing his son’s back.           Oliver snorted, “Daddy, Ron isn’t a girl.”           Harry chuckled, nodding fervently, “Right, I apologize.  Men can like the color pink too.  Does Ron like the color pink?”           Oliver grinned, “He loves the color pink.”           Gemma and Michal purchased Oliver a new racecar set.  Harry and Y/N showered Oliver with multiple gifts that ranged from new outfits created by Harry’s stylists, toys, children books, and costumes that ranged from pink feather boas to a miniature Elvis costume.  Oliver thanked everyone for the gifts with a hug and a kiss.  Gemma lifted Oliver onto the couch, where he snuggled into her side while Harry and Y/N cleaned up the piles of torn wrapping paper.  Y/N glanced up from the sparkly paper toward her son’s drooping eyes.             “He’s going to sleep good tonight,” Michal whispered, chuckling when Oliver’s head jerked backward startling him awake.           Harry hummed in agreement, “Oli, what do you say that we give you a bath and put you in your new pajamas?”           Oliver shook his head, burying his face further into Gemma’s side.  Gemma smiled, rubbing Oliver’s back.           “We can bath him tomorrow.  He didn’t make a total mess with the cake,” Y/N mumbled, cutting the tags from Oliver’s outfits.           Harry nodded, “Okay, Gem, do you mind holding him for a bit longer?  Y/N and I want to clean the kitchen before we go to bed.”           “I don’t mind.  I love cuddling with my nephew,” Gemma promised, wrapping her arm around Oliver.           “I can help you two,” Anne whispered, following Y/N and Harry into the kitchen.             The excitement quieted down the minute Oliver’s tiny snores echoed throughout the silent living room.  Gemma and Michal cuddled with Oliver while Y/N, Harry, and Anne cleaned the kitchen from dinner.   *          *          *          *          *          *

          “You have a real special kid.  Call us anytime you two need a babysitter,” Gemma hugged Y/N and Harry.           “Thank you for coming.  You three gave Oliver a birthday that he won’t forget,” Y/N mumbled, hugging Anne, Gemma, and Michal.           Y/N took Oliver’s sleeping figure from Harry’s sturdy arms.  She carried the heavy toddler toward his bedroom.  Harry’s heart fluttered, and a smile spread across his face as he watched his wife carry their son toward the room.  Once Y/N disappeared into the dark hallway, Harry faced his smirking family.           “Harry, you are blessed.  Y/N is an incredible mother and wife, and Oliver is such an angel.  I hope you cherish them,” Anne reminded Harry.           Harry nodded, hugging his mother, who never became used to Harry’s lifestyle.  She often reminded him about the day when a sixteen-year-old Harry entered the world of fame forever.  Now that Oliver entered the world, Harry understood the sorrow yet pride that she felt. Harry hoped Oliver chased his dreams, but he would struggle to let him travel across the world at sixteen.           “I love you, mom,” Harry pressed a kiss to Anne’s temple.           Anne pecked Harry’s nose, “I love you too. I hope you three have a wonderful night.”           Harry waved goodbye as the car drove off down the narrow streets.  Harry closed the front door, tiptoeing toward Oliver’s bedroom, where he heard Oliver gushing about his birthday party.  Oliver’s groggy voice mumbled incoherent praises while Y/N tucked him into the blue sheets.           “Thank you, mommy, for the best birthday ever,” Oliver whispered, shutting his eyes.           Y/N smiled, pecking Oliver’s forehead, “You’re welcome.  I love you, Oli.  Sleep tight.”           Y/N flicked the lamp switch off and maneuvered past the toys strewn across the floor.  A squeal flew past her lips the minute she closed Oliver’s bedroom door and found Harry standing there.  Harry chuckled, dodging his wife’s soft slaps as she calmed her breathing.           “What did Oli say?” Harry asked, tugging his wife toward their bedroom.           Y/N grinned, “He thanked us for his birthday party.”           Harry tutted, shuffling across the bedroom toward their bed, “No, I heard him thank you.  You saved the day.”           Y/N shook her head, walking until Harry tumbled backward onto the bed, “We saved the day.  I couldn’t do it without you being there to calm me down.  You were right.  Everything would be okay.”           Y/N straddled Harry’s waist, admiring the way the moonlight splashed across his face.  Her eyes traced the freckles dotted around his tan skin until they landed on his rosy lips.  She lowered her head, brushing her lips against Harry’s stubbly jaw.           Harry groaned, “I love when you tell me that I was right.  Can you say it again?”           “You were right,” Y/N purred, trailing her lips down Harry’s neck.           Harry chuckled darkly, “I love you.”           “I love you too.  I also think you were right about practicing for making another baby. Maybe we should start practicing,” Y/N sat up, searching Harry’s eyes for disapproval.           A wide grin unraveled across Harry’s face, “Yeah?  You want another baby with me?”           Y/N nodded, biting back the dazed grin, “I want more children with you.”           Harry giggled, pressing his lips onto Y/N’s lips.  The couple shared urgent kisses as if each kiss might be their last.  Y/N’s heart fluttered from Harry’s excitement and the feeling of his lips on hers.  Later that night, Y/N and Harry discussed their hopes for the future.  Harry and Y/N couldn’t wait until another baby entered their lives.

[thejewelleryblogger]

The Wonder of Glass Beads

There's archeological evidence of glass-like beads dating back at least 3000 decades. The first illustrations are of an Egyptian bead produced from a sort of ceramic (not clay) that if fired generated a glowing blue-green surface. The faience ceramic has been created from walnut, sand, calcite lime and alkali that came together and made the aluminum pigments it's famous for. The end result didn't tolerate the translucent qualities of the glass beads we all know now, but the allure of the surface along with the colour the mix generated a reflective and fragile product which gave the impression of glass into the contemporary eye.

When authentic glass has been eventually being generated (on goal ), wound glass rings would be the first to be produced. The way is easy; glass is heated to the point of pliability, laid down and wrapped around a steel cable. The cable is coated at a runny clay slide to avoid the glass from sticking to the cable while it stinks. From that stage different instruments and materials could possibly be used to make several effects such as contours, patterns etc.. Even tiny dabs of coloured glass can be inserted while the glass is still warm. For more details check https://www.the-beadshop.co.uk/beads-and-beading-supplies-c491/glass-beads-c493

Drawn beads are just another very old kind of glass beads. In reality, there's proof of glass beadmaking centers dating back to the 2nd century. The major way of earning drawn glass beads entails using a chunk of glass and pulling out a strand and about it making a glass tube. Some ethnic differences in the procedure include using a hollow metallic tube or a instrument referred to as a puntile. 

The frequent denominator in attracted glass beadmaking has been the ability necessary to pull on the strand in this manner that a hole was made while drawing on the'cane' of this bead as long as you can without breaking. When the cane was pulled out, it might be cut into individual beads. Seed beads were, and are created in this way; however today it's performed automatically.

Molded beads are extremely common, and now frequently related to low price of work and very low excellent merchandise. While that could be true of several producers, there are a whole lot of rather lovely beads produced in the molding procedure. Thick rods of glass are heated to a molten shape and fed into a system that basically stamps the glass. A needle pierces a hole in the center, the beads have been wrapped in warm sand to soften the borders and then out pops a wrought iron glass bead. Especially through the 19th and 20th centuries that the Bohemian glass bead business was known for its practice of replicating expensive beads throughout the molding procedure. They made elaborate glass beads through a less costly procedure, thus producing the exact same desirable designs accessible to people who couldn't manage the pricey choice.

Lampworked glass beads are a form of wound glass bead, but having the additional step involved. Throughout the hard financial times from this 19th century in Europe it wasn't unusual for the woman of the home to accept additional work she could execute in the house. Some girls chose fixing or sewing, additional did laundry and others picked lampwork beadmaking. Following the wound glass rings are created in an industrial mill, they have been sent off to home-based bit employees. The women would utilize an oil lamp to re-heat the crux of the bead and then include nice threads of coloured glass decoration, hence the title'lampwork beads'.

Dichoric glass beads would be the glitz of this high end glass art bead group. A growing number of designers are looking for these iridescent glass rings for their exclusive colours. Wound or molded glass rings have a thin coating of metal fused into the surface of the glass, making the signature metallic luster. Any way of colored metal might be used, however if it's heated for too long that it turns silver and burns .

Glass beads could be so varied and so glowing in their usage that enthusiastic beaders frequently treat them with conspicuous reverence, like a collector could deal with a nice work of art. Taking into consideration the duration of history inherent in glass rings, there's a certain quantity of respect demanded. Lampworked beads especially aren't only pretty parts of adornment, they talk of the economic battle of the 19th century European homemaker. The wonder of glass beads isn't only in its own beauty, it's also at the background of its presence.

[arcanemoody]

Gotham Secret Santa

Title: Songbook

Author: arcanemoody Tags: Season 5, post-S05E07: Ace Chemicals, Bickering Like an Old Married Couple, Referenced Past Trauma, Pre-Slash, Developing Relationship, 78prm, Happy Ending Summary: Whatever Ed needs, he can have. Oswald isn’t sure how he can make that any clearer.

For @ckatattack for the @gotham-secret-santa. I hope you like it!

--

Oswald sorted bolts at his ally’s behest. He helped push the tables together in the library, cleared the combined space so that his partner could work on the engine of the submarine while maintaining a clear view of each schematic. All while humming to himself and emptying boxes of scrap on the side table designated for his work; filing bolts, screws, and other detritus into separate piles and compartments for easy retrieval.

Contrary to the accusations Edward liked to throw at him, he hadn’t intended for his old friend and enemy to be doing the majority of the work -- conceptualizing, working from schematics, redesigning schematics. Oswald himself found none of this intuitive, and had hoped by making himself scarce, Ed's progress could continue uninterrupted. His 10th-grade shop teacher had said once, with a screwdriver in his hand, Oswald Cobblepot was essentially a gremlin. He couldn’t even wire a lamp from a kit; couldn’t sand or carve the blocks used to make a simple standing clock. And his lack of technical acumen was matched only by his inability to commit to physical labor. A submarine was seriously outside his expertise. Seeing to their cargo and procuring the niceties and basic needs his colleague eschewed in favor of managing his labor was much more his speed. He checked on (and added to) their pile of treasure. He made sure Ed had decent food and untainted water. He sorted bolts. He worked very, very hard to tamp down any indignity he felt in each task.

"Are you humming Dinah Shore?"

It took a moment for him to realize that Ed was addressing him. "What?"

"That song. What are you humming?"

Oswald shook his head, slightly dazed. "I-I don't know. It's just something I remembered… maybe from one of my mother’s records? Put it in a box, tie it with a ribbon—'

“...would surely fill the deep blue sea,” Ed finished in his gentle tenor. “That's Dinah Shore.”

“Is it?” Oswald shrugged. “Huh. Well, if you're that desperate for me to not sing it, I think I must have the actual record somewhere.” Ed’s brow furrowed.

“78RPM? Red label? Columbia logo?”

“I think so.”

“That‘s my record, Oswald!” he shouted, taking a large step forward.

His brain froze up in the way it tended to do nowadays any time Ed leveled an accusation at him, grappling with whether it was warranted and whether the vehemence required a match in tone. This did not. He took a deep breath.

“Technically speaking, it’s my record. I bought it.”

“Yeah, along with the rest of my records, my books and my clothes,” Ed shot back. “Well, excuse me for wanting you to feel at home when you got out of Arkham!”

The lot at the police auction had been purchased through an intermediary -- the same intermediary that made a hefty donation to the policemen's union under the name of the Van Dahl living trust. Oswald had known that if the GCPD had felt free enough to use his name to trap Edward into a confession, they would probably be vindictive enough to refuse his name on a purchase order. 

"And anyway, since you left them all at the manor, I'd say that still makes them mine.”

“Technically speaking,” he replied, mimicking Oswald’s earlier tone. “I didn't leave.” “You certainly weren't living there when I got back!” The air in the house had been stale the day he and Fries forced the front door open. Only the kitchen had maintained its normal, spotless, lived-in atmosphere, due to Olga’s continued employment, salary operating on an automatic deposit. The rest had fallen into a cluttered disrepair that illustrated the descent of Riddler’s madness.

“I wasn't not living there.”

“Of course not. You were on the run. Well, you were 'not living there' just enough that I gave Ivy your room.'

“No you didn’t.” Ed’s statement was dismissive rather than outraged. Not an accusation; a fact. Confirming that he had evidence to back up his claim. 

“How do you know?” Oswald asked, curious. 

“Because when I went there in March, my room was as I left it.”

March. 

Two months before Sofia had been taken out for good.

When Riddler had broken him out of Arkham, the purple panel coat with the fur trimmed collar  (flattened now and in desperate need of dry cleaning) had been slung across the passenger seat of the truck. The coat he had left in Ed’s apartment after Galavan’s murder, the coat he’d subsequently gotten back after the GCPD delivered the lot from the auction. He had been too preoccupied at the time to question its presence or how Ed might have retrieved it when Oswald himself had changed the locks a year earlier. 

“You broke into my house!” “It was hardly breaking in — the windows weren’t even locked,” he paused at Oswald’s shocked expression. “I never did it when you were home. Just after you were arrested and, later, when you were squatting at Falcone’s place.”

“Right, because that makes it better! What were you even doing there?”’

“Looking for my things, mainly. I wore the same suit for months and it wasn’t like I had a lot of loose change to throw around, even with Lee’s help.” “So you turned to house breaking. How clever of you.”

“One house. And I didn’t take anything that wasn’t already mine.”

‘Just as before.’ Oswald flinched at the thought, turned away. He shook his head, rubbed his eyes, refrained from upturning the table with all of the bolts he’d sorted. One could afford to pick one’s battles during a long-form escape attempt. .

“Well you can go back for your precious record collection any time you like! If the front door is still on the hinges, I’ll even loan you my key.”

Said key disappeared from his keyring two days later, around the time Oswald found the library work space empty.

-- He did not turn up to sort bolts, shuffle schematics or retrieve provisions for Edward the next day. 

Or the next day. 

He arranged trades. He drank wine on Barbara’s sofa, listening to her talk through the physical transformations of her second trimester and Lee Thompkins’ warnings about high heels being a fall risk and, therefore, a risk to the fetus. 

“As if I would ever fall,” she scoffed. 

He refrained from stating the obvious, pouring himself another glass to avoid grinding his teeth.

On the third day, he turned up to an empty room. He sat waiting in the empty library long into the evening. The sun was setting, filling the room with an orange glow when a member of his security team turned up, an anxious expression on their face. 

“Boss.”

“Where is he?”

-- First Bank of Gotham. A historic granite and lime building measuring half a city block on the edge of the industrial sector on the north side.

The Court of Owls had done a good job of hiding their centuries-worth of dirty work in plain sight. Post-No Man’s Land “restructuring,“ the alley where he and Edward had made their bloody escape two years earlier was on the edge of Firefly’s territory, frequently disputed by Fries’ minions staking a claim. The odds had been in Firefly’s favor recently and Bridgit, to Oswald’s surprise, allowed him to pass through with barely a nod of encouragement. 

“String Bean entered through the southwest staircase. My scouts say he’s been there a while,” she lifted her mask, giving him a pointed stare. “You’ve got an hour, Pengy.”

Oswald nodded, leaving his guards under his former housemate’s watchful eye (and flamethrower). This was Firefly being sentimental. He knew it wouldn’t last long if they overstayed their welcome. 

There were more stairs than he remembered. Each floor opened onto a circular hall of doors with the door knobs either broken or missing, papers and files scattered, the mundane facade of an centuries-old evil organization that still needed three floors of pencil pushers to move their assets and occasionally serve as cannon fodder. Oswald remembered their holding cells being on the sixth floor, close to the roof. The trip to the ground level had been a whirlwind of improvised carnage -- guards, personnel, people in uniforms, people in office wear, he and Ed and tore through everyone on their way out, before crashing onto the pavement outside, covered in the blood of violent rebirth.

He found Edward on the fourth floor, door ajar on what had once been a holding area, dilapidated desks and disabled security gates, loose wires where key panel locks had once been. Long legs folded into a too small office chair, eyes downcast, his friend’s visage brought a lump to his throat.

“Reliving old memories?” Oswald asked, annoyed even as the fear and agony he’d been holding in check all day melted from him.

Ed didn’t look up.

“Edward?”

Another long moment passed before he finally spoke. 

“I found my overcoat,” he said, gesturing at the pile of green plaid slung over the crook of one arm and draped over his lap. Nearly two years in dark storage, no doubt covered in mildew, dust mites, and other unspeakable things. 

“Were you looking for that recently?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I hadn’t even thought about it, or this place in quite some time. I was looking for scrap steel for the outer panels, maybe some extra supplies... I took a notion once I realized where I was. Have I been gone long?”

“Six hours.” Eight, though Ed didn’t need to know just how early Oswald had turned up to the library.

“I couldn’t find any of your stuff. Or anything that looked like it might be yours. Sorry.”

Oswald did his best to contain his reaction, that Ed had done something thoughtful. For his sake. He winced against the ripple of familiar warmth, butterflies. Things he could not afford in the midst of a long-form escape attempt.

“It doesn’t matter. Are you ready to go now?” 

Ed nodded, walking half a step behind as they descended back down the stairs.

--

“How long were you their prisoner?” He asked, after they had crossed the perimeter, doubling back twice to avoid whatever shadows Ed seemed positive were following them. The sun had long since set and what little light they had was from the security teams flanking them, throwing long shadows on the broken pavement.

“Before you arrived?” Ed shrugged. “A few weeks maybe? I was interrogated before they put me in the cage. It was difficult to keep track but not impossible. It wasn’t like Arkham -- their  objectives involved keeping me alive. Though what keeping me alive meant in a city they wanted to destroy is anybody’s guess.”

Probably holding his sage intellect in storage for future endeavors, as Barbara had. Oswald felt angry on his old friend’s behalf as well as himself. He hadn’t been interrogated -- just sedated, stripped, and thrown in a cell. For the formerly missing mayor of the city, it was beyond insulting. 

Ed wasn’t finished.

“They gave me haloperidol so they could question me. That was bad. I was still detoxing at first -- that was worse.”

“From what?”

“Amphetamines, mostly. And whatever psychotropics Tabitha gave me. Withdrawal symptoms ideally shouldn’t last as long as those did. I tapered off to avoid complications with my heart muscle, adrenal glands...”

Oswald held his breath.

Following Riddler’s progress after his death had been difficult from the distance of Ivy’s greenhouse hideaway in Bludhaven. Even after returning home, tracking headlines and articles stopped at a certain date, bleeding into coverage of the mayor’s disappearance. One of those articles included a grainy shot of Ed leaving a press conference at city hall, face a mask of composure, but for the downward cast of distressed brown eyes in rubbed gray newsprint.

He knew Ed had tripled his original kill count in less than two months. And that he’d kept the authorities on the run right up until Jim Gordon decided handing him over to a cabal with designs on child abduction and mass murder was a charming notion. That Ed himself had crossed that threshold virtually without a fight.

“...why?”

“I wasn’t sleeping.”

“Uppers tends to do that--”

“I didn’t want to sleep,” his tone took on a sharp edge and he was glaring at Oswald again. “I don’t even know why you’re asking me. You know exactly how long I was there. You went to Jim first. You always go to him first.”

That jab… felt oddly personal. Oswald wondered what he was missing in that accusation— the narrowed gaze and the resentful pinch to his mouth. Never mind that Jim Gordon was the one who arrested and subsequently reported the “Riddler’s” escape and Ed, a forensic investigator, should have known the importance of following clues.

“If I could gauge what Jim knew, I had a bead on what the rest of the GCPD knew and I could plan accordingly. So, yes, I went to him. And he lied to me and I knew it -- just like I always know when he lies to me. The man has a terrible poker face.”

“So do you.”

“So stop playing with me,” he said, choking up. Having his own methods questioned was galling. And it wasn’t as though his talent for shallow subterfuge hadn’t fooled him once— back when Ed cared about him and a blind spot was established. Memories that brought a salty weighty to the back of his throat and behind his eyes. “Did you even find out ‘who runs Gotham?’”

The question was flippant, almost cruel. Ed’s answer was not.

“That and more,” he replied, somber, almost pensive; enough to deflate Oswald’s ire. 

“Well. Good for you, then.”

“There are things they told me,” he said, serious now, neither chiding nor angry. “...I can’t talk about it. Not yet.”

Oswald kept his eyes on the dark path ahead, tried not to think about what could be worse to talk about than his anguish over the deaths at Haven or the almost blissful oblivion of his first murders. A distant part of his brain reminded him that it could be still another play, but he had seen Ed devastated enough over time to recognize truth from fiction.

“Okay,” he nodded. 

“Things that involve you.”

“I understand. Save it if you want, Ed. You can tell me whenever you want to or hang onto it forever. I don’t care.”

The walk back to the library seemed longer than before. Oswald was surprised that Ed continued to shadow him even as the streets (what had once been streets) diverged and he headed in the direction of city hall.

“Don’t disappear again.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You’re not capable of scaring me!” he said. Patently untrue and Ed knew it, too. “Anyway, I thought you might have gone to the manor.”

“I tried that first,” he replied, producing his keyring from the pocket on his boilersuit. “Yesterday.”

“And?”

“I want to say the front door is still on the hinges, but I couldn’t get more than a few yards away to look. Nature seems to have taken back a good portion of your father’’s estate and... some of it was not happy to find me there.”

“Ivy. Well, it’s good to hear that she's kept up her hobbies,” he laughed, breathlessly. Guilt was rare and pulsed dully in the same pained spot in his stomach where heartbreak loved to dwell. The teenage plant maven had kept Oswald company when he had wanted no one near him and he’d rewarded her generosity of spirit with contempt and vitriol. Forgiveness was, as ever, too high a price to ask for. He’d have to settle for just knowing she was alive. 

“Hang on to the key, anyway. We may need it eventually.”

If they ever went back (and if Ivy killed him on sight), Ed would still need to get inside the house.

—

After the bolts and the sonar, after Penn’s arrival and subsequent dispatch, aborted departures and new arrivals and scrambling to recover what they could from the bottom of the river, they managed to fight through the vegetation and rehome the manor.

Oswald arrived with lunch one afternoon and found a 78rpm in a battered paper sleeve on the dining room table. He reached out to touch it, wondering briefly if it was a trick of his remaining eye.

“Ed?” he called out. 

“I found your record,” Ed said, closer than he’d initially guessed, initially in his blind spot and then moving over to his left side. No longer disputing ownership. “Not here. It turns out the library’s music archives weren’t completely depleted.”

Oswald smiled, turning the record over, noting the red label, the Columbia logo.

“Do we still have a working turntable?”

Ed smiled, amused, offered an arm to guide him.

“Back here.”

It took more than a few breaths to blow the dust off both record and player, more than a few minutes to turn the crank on his father’s old gramophone without overwinding, and finding the appropriate place to drop the needle. The voice that warbled out was familiar in a way that conjured images of his mother’s living room, frying onions in the kitchen, the sharp bite of paprika and heavy salt in the air… none of which echoed Ed’s place in his mind. 

“This isn’t Dinah Shore.”

“No, it’s Doris Day,” he replied, a hint of amusement breaking through what, no doubt, had to be a heavy sense of injustice (Ed’s impeccable brain turning on him yet again). “I got the song and the label right but the vocalist wrong. Such an obvious detail to miss.”

Oswald shook his head, reaching out to take his partner’s other arm, squeezing lightly.

“It’s an easy mistake,” he replied, his non-bandaged eye focused on his dearest friend’s shifting expression; dark eyes misty, a hint of a smile. “No worries, my friend.”

Oswald watched Ed swallow, feeling an answering squeeze on his arm. The two of them leaned against each other, swaying, almost in a dance. Oswald hummed. -- A/N: The song Oswald sings is “Put ‘Em in a Box, Tie ‘Em With a Ribbon,” sung by Doris Day. Ed’s thinking of “Love That Boy” sung by Dinah Shore (and actually misremembers it with a lyric from “Mad About Him, Sad Without Him”). Both were released by Columbia in 1947, Doris is singing about taking romance and chucking it in the river, while Dinah is still in the bloom of loving someone from afar, alternately delighted and miserable.