#maid with chafing dish

[artschoolglasses]

Maid with Chafing Dish, Ernest Fosbery, 1910

[dwellordream]

“The marginalization of girls’ domestic labor is evident in the descriptions of work that enter the records of their lives. Virtually all girls had some domestic responsibilities. (One study in 1896 found that 83 percent of high school girls said they did some ‘‘general housework’’ or sewing on a daily basis, taking about an hour a day.) But this work was characterized by its partialness, by its incidental quality as one of many features which were intended to structure the lives and enhance the character of prospering girls. 

…Like the ‘‘pert miss’’ in William Thayer’s book of admonition wondering, ‘‘How can a girl like me be orderly, when I have nothing to order?’’ middle-class Victorian girls learned that they could practice habits of ordering on their own wardrobes and their own rooms, their labor defined by its value in building their own character. And indeed, that was often how girls’ duties were defined: as the light work associated with keeping up of a private bedroom or with the genteel presentation of the household. 

Emily Eliot’s chores, which were rarely featured in her journal, included sometimes making out a list of the soiled clothes (which were increasingly sent out to commercial laundries rather than done at home), organizing her shelves, and sometimes sewing. Martha Moore’s mother often called on her to arrange flowers for the parlors before she did her schoolwork. Lucy Breckinridge, like Martha Moore writing in the South during the Civil War, had the lightest of household chores because of the presence of black slave labor. 

When she announced in her diary that she had ‘‘been a little more industrious and housekeepy this week,’’ she described chores remarkable for their seeming remoteness to the real work of the household. ‘‘I have crocheted bridle reins and breakfast mats, hemmed some ruffles, and made some ice cream and custard.’’ Sewing, especially ornamental needlework, was the prototypical girls’ work, redeemed by its suggestion of industry without urgency. 

…When such household labor was in fact marginal, encouraged by advisers as ‘‘gratifying your mother in these little things,’’ and perceived by daughters as ‘‘sacrifice of my time and pursuits,’’ there is no wonder that girls did not take their responsibility to domestic labor entirely seriously, and sometimes chafed at or evaded those responsibilities. Especially when girls saw their house work as ‘‘helping mother,’’ a note of wryness or rebellion crept into otherwise implacable diarists. 

Margaret Tileston, whose lifelong daily entries are notable for their flat, descriptive quality, revealed a saucy note in her contrast of her mother’s activity with her own quiet reading. ‘‘In the morning, Mother was very busy getting closets in order. I helped her a little, but not much. . . . Je n’ai rien à dire.’’ The next day, she noted that she ‘‘helped Mother somewhat by trotting up and down stairs,’’ her duties those of an automaton rather than a coworker. 

…As Terhune suggested, when household work was defined as ‘‘helping mama,’’ even dutiful Victorian daughters felt infantilized and expressed rebellion. There were other circumstances, however, when a girl described her household work with acceptance, and sometimes even pride and a sense of accomplishment. This was when her labor was in fact irreplaceable, because she herself was filling in for an absent servant or an absent mother. 

When the Baldwin family maid departed to nurse her sick cousin, daughter Jessie’s activities took a different turn from her usual genteel schedule. She wrote to a friend, ‘‘Now I’ll tell you what has been my occupation lately—Getting up at 5 a.m. cooking breakfast for H. and Papa at 7 a.m. washing the dishes at 8, dusting at 9, various odd things at 10, ditto at 11, and dinner at 12.’’ Jessie had inherited a full-time job. 

For girls who already had full schedules, especially those who attended school, replacing a maid imposed real burdens. The sickness of her mother and her three brothers and the absence of a maid meant that Jessie Wendover’s friend Florence ‘‘has to do all the work and is completely discouraged about her lessons, she has so little time to study.’’ At the very least, it took a toll on a girl’s leisure pursuits, so that Florence Peck could win her competition with a friend in seeing who could read David Copperfield fastest, ‘‘for her folks are without a girl.’’

Daughters had a clear responsibility to replace mothers’ work when mothers became ill or were away, a responsibility which they accepted and sometimes celebrated. (When mothers died or were permanently incapacitated, girlhoods summarily ended.) Annie Gates’s mother broke her leg when Gates was twelve, and the girl commenced her ‘‘first experience in cooking,’’ a position which made her proud and which she ‘‘strove to prove’’ herself equal to, despite the disastrous results. 

Mary Bartine, daughter of a wealthy New Jersey industrialist who employed several servants, noted that she had been ‘‘house keeper and sick nurse combined for the last few days,’’ when her mother had become sick. And when Eleanor Hooper’s mother was away, she wrote a friend, ‘‘I have been housekeeper and head cook and bottle-washer,’’ a phrase which she explained by allowing, that ‘‘although we have a capital servant who has been with us almost two years, I have heaps of work to do to keep everything up to the mark.’’ 

For seventeen-year-old Annie Cooper, a committed amateur artist whose family also employed servants, the managerial responsibilities of replacing her mother, away for the week in 1882, weighed less heavily. ‘‘I was housekeeper. Papa and I enjoyed it very much indeed, for I painted nearly all the time. and of course that was bliss for me.’’ The suggestion here is that for Annie, replacing her mother in her absence was less time-consuming than obliging her in her presence. 

By the end of the century, cultural promoters of domesticity had almost given up on their efforts to reintroduce domestic apprenticeships among an urban elite. Instead, advice givers in periodicals found other ways to encourage girls to learn the skills of home work. The founding of clubs and the establishment of classes, like the writing of advice manuals themselves, were designed to encourage the practice of dying arts. 

One Hamilton cousin prepared ‘‘peach creme’’ ‘‘for the cooking club,’’ in the context of a day which included reading, meeting with the Shakespeare club, a trip to town, another stint reading (this time Knickerbocker’s New York), and some crocheting, done while listening to the reading of another story aloud. Another girl organized a cooking club for the maid’s night off. A twelve-year-old wrote in to Harper’s Young People of her desire to belong to ‘‘the Little Housekeepers,’’ but lamented that she probably was ineligible because ‘‘I can’t cook much.’’ Even promotional schemes to restore the lost art of housewifery required at least a modicum of early experience.”

- Jane H. Hunter, “Daughters’ Lives and the Work of the Middle-Class Home.” in How Young Ladies Became Girls: The Victorian Origins of American Girlhood

[hiddenarthistory-blog]

Mierle Laderman Ukeles

MAINTENANCE ART : Proposal for an exhibition “CARE”

1969

I.  IDEAS

A.  The Death Instinct and the Life Instinct

The Death Instinct :  separation; individuality; Avant-Garde par excellence; to follow one’s own path to death - do your own thing; dynamic change.

The Life Instinct :  unification; the eternal return; the perpetuation and MAINTENANCE of the species; survival systems and operations; equilibrium.  

B.  Two basic systems : Development and Maintenance.

The sourball of every revolution: after the revolution, who’s going to pick up the garbage on Monday morning?

Development : pure individual creation; the new; change; progress; advance; excitement; flight or fleeing.

Maintenance : keep the dust off the pure individual creation; preserve the new; sustain the change; protect progress; defend and prolong the advance; renew the excitement; repeat the flight.

Development systems are partial feedback systems with major room for change.

Maintenance systems are direct feedback systems with little room for alteration.

C.  Maintenance is a drag; it takes all the fucking time (lit.)

The mind boggles and chafes at the boredom.

The culture confers lousy status on maintenance jobs = minimum wages, housewives = no pay.

clean you desk, wash the dishes, clean the floor, wash your clothes, wash your toes, change the baby’s diaper, finish the report, correct the typos, mend the fence, keep the customer happy, throw out the stinking garbage, watch out don’t put things in your nose, what shall I wear, I have no sox, pay your bills, don’t litter, save string, wash your hair, change the sheets, go to the store, I’m out of perfume, say it again - he doesn’t understand, seal it again - it leaks, go to work, this art is dusty, clear the table, call him again, flush the toilet, stay young.

D.  Art

Everything I say is Art is Art. Everything I do is Art is Art.

“We have no Art, we try to do everything well.” (Balinese saying).

Avant-garde art, which claims utter development, is infected by strains of maintenance ideas, maintenance activities, and maintenance materials.

Conceptual & Process art, especially, claim pure development and change, yet employ almost purely maintenance processes.

E.  The exhibition of Maintenance Art, “CARE,” would zero in on pure maintenance, exhibit it as contemporary art, and yield, by utter opposition, clarity of issues.

II. THE MAINTENANCE ART EXHIBITION : “CARE” Three parts: Personal, General, and Earth Maintenance.

A.  Part One: Personal

I am an artist. I am a woman. I am a wife. I am a mother. (Random order).

I do a hell of a lot of washing, cleaning, cooking, renewing, supporting, preserving, etc. Also, (up to now) separately I “do” Art.

Now, I will simply do these maintenance everyday things, and flush them up to consciousness, exhibit them, as Art. I will live in the museum and I customarily do at home with my husband and my baby, for the duration of the exhibition. (Right? or if you don’t want me around at night I would come in every day) and do all these things as public Art activities: I will sweep and wax the floors, dust everything, wash the walls (i.e. “floor paintings, dust works, soap-sculpture, wall-paintings”) cook, invite people to eat, make agglomerations and dispositions of all functional refuse.

The exhibition area might look “empty” of art, but it will be maintained in full public view.

MY WORKING WILL BE THE WORK

B.  Part Two: General

Everyone does a hell of a lot of noodling maintenance work. The general part of the exhibition would consist of interviews of two kinds.

1. Previous individual interviews, typed and exhibited.

Interviewees come from, say, 50 different classes and kinds of occupations that run a gamut from maintenance “man,” maid, sanitation “man,” mail “man,” union “man,” construction worker, librarian, grocerystore “man,” nurse, doctor, teacher, museum director, baseball player, sales”man,” child, criminal, bank president, mayor, moviestar, artist, etc., about:”

-what you think maintenance is; -how you feel about spending whatever parts of your life you spend on maintenance activities; -what is the relationship between maintenance and freedom; -what is the relationship between maintenance and life’s dreams.

2. Interview Room - for spectators at the Exhibition

A room of desks and chairs where professional (?) interviewers will interview the spectators at the exhibition along same questions as typed interviews.

The responses should be personal.

These interviews are taped and replayed throughout the exhibition area.

C. Part Three : Earth Maintenance

Everyday, containers of the following kinds of refuse will be delivered to the Museum:

- the contents of one sanitation truck;

- a container of polluted air; - a container of polluted Hudson River;

- a container of ravaged land.

Once at the exhibition, each container will be serviced : purified, de-polluted, rehabilitated, recycled, and conserved by various technical (and/or pseudo-technical) procedures either by myself or scientists.

These servicing procedures are repeated throughout the duration of the exhibition.

https://queensmuseum.org/2016/04/mierle-laderman-ukeles-maintenance-art

https://www.artforum.com/video/mierle-laderman-ukeles-talks-about-maintenance-art-63533

https://hyperallergic.com/355255/how-mierle-laderman-ukeles-turned-maintenance-work-into-art/

[tishaparajeli1321]

Blue–Eyed Devil

Author: Lisa Kleypas

It is the story of a self-made, ambitious man, coming from the gutter, becoming a millionaire and doing anything to get the obstacles out of the way. Raised by an abusive, criminal father. A man who is an unscrupulous rascal, but now he’s trying to clean up his act since the day he had met the rebellious daughter of Churchill Travis, Haven Travis who had gone into a failure marriage. The heiress and the bad boy uncover an explosive chemistry that neither of them can deny.

It began at her brother’s wedding party – Gage, who is getting married to Liberty Jones, heroine of Sugar Daddy. The hot buffet tables featured tureens of lobsters’ bisque, chafing dishes filled with slices of pecan – smoked tenderloin, grilled ahi tuna and at least thirty other entrees. Reporters from the Houston Chronicle and Texas Monthly were there to cover the reception, which included guests like the former governor and mayor, a famous TV chef, Hollywood people and oil industry people.

It was somewhere between South America and Japan, she’d staggered into a dark – haired boy with clear hazel eyes and a self – confident grin. He had a long, sinewy runners body and an intellectual look, he’s Nick Tanner. They both fell in love very fast, or that’s what she had thought? Because she firmly believed that with Nick, love conquers all.

Her Dad was barrel – chested, short – legged, and black – eyed with hair so thick that you could hardly find his scalp beneath. All that and his German chin made him a striking man, if not a handsome one. He had some Comanche blood on his mother’s side, and a bunch of German and Scottish ancestors whose futures had been hamstrung back in their native countries. They had come to Texas looking for cheap, winter less land that only needed their labor to bring forth prosperity. Instead they got droughts, epidemics, Indian maids, scorpions and both weevils the size of their thumbnails. The Travises who had survived were the most purely stubborn people on earth, the kind who received on their backbones when their wishbones were broken. When her mother, Ava, was still alive. She was an annual co-chair of the Texas Book Festival and went for smoke breaks with Kinky Friedman. Ava Travis was the glamorous and had the best legs of any woman in River Oaks, and gave the best dinner parties. As they said those days, she was as fine as Dr Pepper on tap. After meeting her, men would tell her Dad what a lucky bastard he was, and that pleased him to no end. She was more than he deserved, he announced on more than one occasion. And then he would give a sneaky laugh, because he always thought he deserved more than he deserved.

Haven proceeds to marry Nick, even though it is against on her family’s will especially her Father Churchill who really disapproves about her marrying a nonstarter. Things happened real fast the marriage, run – away to Texas and they live together in a simple apartment in Piano, North of Dallas.Too late to realize that his husband has less interest of having a baby nor a family. Also,that Nick’s behavior fit the pattern of someone with narcissistic personality disorder, which was common for abusive husbands. A person with NPD was domineering, blaming, self- absorbed, intolerant of other’s needs and they used rage as a control tactic. They didn’t respect anyone else’s boundaries, which meant they felt entitled to bully and criticize until their victims were absolute mess. No one’s pain but his own meant anything to him. She became sycophant, assuming Nick was smarter than everyone, telling him he was right even though it was perfectly obvious that he was wrong. And in spite of all that, he was never satisfied. Their sex life went downhill, she tried to be as an accommodating as possible, doing what was necessary.

After her Aunt Gretchen died due to cerebral aneurysm and Haven secretly taking pills for birth control, Nick outburst an outraging anger and beat the hell out of her. Real good. She’s just lucky that with the help of her brother’s Gage and Jack someone came up to rescue her.

Oliver Mullins rescued her. He is a friend of Gage and must’ve been told to take her back home to Texas by a Lear 31A, a light jet made to accommodate up to six passengers with four- foot- high winglets and delta fins attached to the tail cone, a plane that he owns. She had a sister with the same situation as Haven does. Her husband also used to beat her up, pretty often, either for no reason or for any reason.

A few months had passed and still on recovery, Haven finally able to get back on her senses and pick up every little piece of her that was shattered into tiny little pieces. Her brother Joe, a commercial photographer. Also offered help and made a point of telling her that he had a big house and there was plenty of room if she wanted to stay with him. She appreciated the offer, but she needed her own place. The real surprise is that her brother Jack, the brother she’d never get along with. The adult Jack turned out to be an unexpected ally. A friend. She prefers to live in his company the 1800 main hotel, where she could fully relax, the haunted, anxious feeling burning away like water drops on a smoking griddle. A cozy home, fine job and re unite herself again with her family. Anything that will make her more distracted until such time she develops a genophobia. It was then Hardy Cates comes up in the line and be a white knight complex.

They met at a bar in which the mass of people inched in every place inside. Every stool was occupied, hundreds of drinks set along the expanse of glittering mosaic table-top tiles. There was no way to get to the door other than follow along with the herd. Then someone in the her stumbled or staggered. It was a domino effect, one person falling into another until she felt the impact of a shoulder against hers. The momentum pushed her into the line of bar stools, causing her to drop her purse. Someone had reached out to steady her, there she meets again the blue-eyed devil and the undeniable feeling that both of them heated of that encounter which neither of them was able to forget. It happened a year ago by accident, when they end up at the dark cellar where Haven mistakenly assumes he is Nick and they end up kissing passionately. That was their first encounter and he totally admitted that what happened back then on that dark cellar, troubled his mind every time. Hardy starts a relentless campaign to date her and at first she is not prepared to get into a new relationship. But Hardy being so gentle, patient and cave the woman in her needs to come out and say it. She gave in to the devil who owns a pair of captivating blue-eyes who once an enemy of the Travises and an ex-boyfriend of Liberty Jones. Hardy even bought an multi-million hotel room in 1800 main, and that is the reason why they are close to each other. She assisted him in showing the hotel room which he really likes the view from up there, he opened up about his two brothers and sister where his sister Hannah died last year from breast cancer and fought it real hard. She had undergone double mastectomy, four months of chemo but still nothing stopped the tumor markers from going up. Hardy still had two brothers with him even they rarely see each other some time, it was Rick and Kevin.

Haven understood the feeling of what it’s like to lose someone that way. Her mother died from a breast cancer too. Except she never went through the chemo. They caught it too late. Her mother was at stage four with lung dissemination. Ava Travis chose to have a shorter, better quality of life, as opposed to dragging it out and going through all the surgery and treatments, which wouldn’t have work anyway.

He had rescued her for how many times proving that he deserves a woman like Haven Travis even if that cause him to be left hanging from an erotic kiss down the hallway, alert the whole hotel facility for there is a woman stuck in a jammed elevator with oil and water start filling the inside of it, and even if that cause to suture his wounded spleen that got him into an operation seriously when he fought with Nick.  He was shot that time by Nick when he come up in Haven’s apartment and went furiously mad when he saw what that narcissist had done with Haven so even he got shot he didn’t seem to bother. Hardy was on top of Nick, pummeling over and over. You could see the fight draining out of Nick as damage accumulated, bones fracturing, skin rupturing, and still Hardy wouldn’t stop. You could hardly determine it was Nick after Hardy had beat him he was on an adrenaline-fueled rampage. Hardy looked ashen and haggard, his face contorting as the murderous instinct faded and pain began to hit him. He’d been shot on his side. The paramedics arrived, followed soon by the police while the building security guards kept anxious neighbors from coming in. Hardy was in intensive care unit patient since it was the Hospital rule for about a week after the surgery to assure full recovery and it’ll take about six weeks more until he’s all healed up. You could have twenty-four-hour visitation. The catch was, you could only stay fifteen minutes per hour, except in special circumstances as approved by the nursing staff. Haven asked Gage to pull whatever strings he could make to make sure she could come and go at will. Gage seemed vaguely amused by this, and reminded her how she had once objected to using power and money to get special treatment. She only told him that when you were in love, hypocrisy won out over principle.

They both get married and Haven really thought she wouldn’t come up to be on this situation of marrying again. Nick is no longer a threat to Haven or anyone, having been convicted of two counts of aggravated assault and sent to Texarkana. The pain of physically is long gone for both of them. And the other kind of hurt, the damage done to their spirits, has been healed. They’re both careful with those scarred places in each other. And they were delight in a marriage that two of them are creating, deepening, every day. She has come to realize that you can never be truly happy unless you’ve known some sorrow. They’ve been married for nearly a year, and there’s so much love that there doesn’t seem to be room for bitterness in either of them.

OPINION

“It was a train wreck happening right in front of me and I couldn't do anything about it, except that not only was I watching, I was also the train.” ― Lisa Kleypas, Blue-Eyed Devil

It was very hard of me to make an opinion for I have experience being an N-target also. It is hard to be silent at times where that is the only way to escape it and I suggested not to be a sycophant for those who had the same situation as the heroine of this story. I often shut off people around me when they tend to be non-empathetic and high manipulative because of their sense of grandiosity, they don’t ever see the need to change. They will always remind you of how wrong you were and how right they are. It is a situation in which you have come to realize that you were the one to loosen your pride and let them win but the thought of that. It was their main goal to make your life miserable and stranded. It’s not bad to be nice sometimes in order to find out what someone’s made of but this might also cause you a big trouble in finding a way out of this mess for being such a nice person in a wrong time and in wrong people. A person in this case, like Nick, targeted those women/persons who’s more fragile, emotionally vulnerable and knows the weakness spot in her/them. It is not bad to shut people off and being so wise in whom to trust and don’t. It is your kind of protective mechanism to avoid these kind of people into your life, even that might take years to find the right one who is trustworthy. Never rush things that must have to be in process. You couldn’t avoid a narcissist for your entire life living on earth, there was a lot of them who didn’t understand herself/himself any better than a shark was aware of why it wanted to kill and eat. Trust yourself and love yourself more than anybody else in this world because as long as you gave it all, to your significant other and left no crumbs for yourself. This only means that, you’ve given them enough love than you do to yourself. Which mostly men, quickly grab this chance and take advantage of you. Its either to destroy you physically by abusing you or they will slowly manipulate you and take control after they ruin you in all aspects. And that could either be physically, emotionally, socially and mentally. Or,  basically, all of it. Take note that, only give your 100 percent of love to the person that gives his/her 100 percent of love as well. So that, the relationship will works out well since both of you WANTED to make this work and balance it . And lastly, keep in mind that, we never and SHOULD never rush on things. All has to be taken slowly and in process.  

[onlyinmyimagination]

Interest and Infatuation | pt. 2

Red Hood X (Female) Reader 

Summary: You’re a housekeeper working for the Wayne Family. A chance encounter with Red Hood leads to an unconventional romance neither of you expected.

Chapter Summary: A visitor and a party

Warnings: mentions of violence

Pt. 1 // Pt. 3

~

The next few days continued to rain which left lingering memories of that fateful night. Sometimes you caught yourself recalling your encounter with the vigilante in the middle of your work. You thought it may have all been a dream, perhaps even a bizarre side effect from adjusting to life in Gotham, but when you shared the story of how you were almost mugged to the other Wayne Manor housekeepers, they assured you they had all felt the same way after their own encounters. It was surprising to hear that they’ve all had similar experiences of having been almost mugged, almost killed, almost many things, but before anything ever happened they’ve always been saved by one of Gotham’s famed vigilantes or anti-heroes. It was sad to hear them share their stories as if it were a normal part of life for a Gotham citizen, but it made you realize that your circumstance was not special nor did it hold any significance including, most likely, to your savior. And so, you often flitted between a pleasant dream-like state and utter dejection of your hero’s supposed apathy.

Luckily however, your job held many distractions for you and kept you busy. Alfred Pennyworth announced that a fundraiser for Gotham’s homeless shelters would be held at the Manor at the end of the week. This main event would include an art exhibition followed by an auction of those very pieces.

The art exhibition consisted of a collection of pieces donated by various modern artists, with its proceeds going directly to fund the homeless shelters. Apparently all of it would be an outdoor event, taking place within the expansive back garden, since the Waynes continued to minimize entry into their home.

It was a wonder how high the risk would be to have so much valuable art gathered in one place; after all, the Wayne Manor in all its castle-like extravagance was much like a museum itself. The Gothic architecture of the Manor was stunning to look at but also daunting in appearance with gargoyles perched atop in all directions of the stone walls. Walking through the Manor was like walking through exhibition after exhibition, with each room containing its own lavish decor of age-old elegance. There were rooms with its ceilings and walls artfully decorated with murals and paintings of angels and demons, gods and goddesses, and mythical characters. More of these fantastical images were on display in the high ceiling gallery hall as intricately carved marble statues. A number of these marble figures lined the gallery room as part of the Wayne family’s prized art collection. Most pieces were priceless originals, but quite a few were near exact replicas of world renown art pieces that were housed in the most secure museums and vaults.

Even the grand library abundant in its collection seemed untouchable as if meant only to be viewed from afar. You didn’t dare pluck a book from its shelf whenever you tidied the room, merely only dusting the tops of the books and spines with the lightest of touches. With almost everything in the Manor being an antique or worth a king’s ransom, it was obvious why most of the rooms would be off-limits to outsiders.

Even with the sudden announcement of the upcoming party, you continued to be distracted by short recollections and small details of a certain rainy night. The chill in the air, the dampness of your skin, the calloused hand in yours. Lena, one of the older maids, had lightly scolded you for standing and daydreaming instead of unpacking the linen tablecloths from the boxes. The only piece of information that piqued your interest enough to deter you from your daydreams left you distracted in a different way. The Wayne family would be in attendance at the fundraiser, and you would finally get to meet them. With the help of the other housekeepers you were now able to place a name to a face.

Having to meet your employer at the upcoming fundraiser weeks after you started your employment at the Manor made you believe they were snobbish and pompous elitists who didn’t bother meeting their employees. You had wanted to meet them before, but now you were simply curious. Apparently they often went away on trips that lasted weeks to months, whether together or by themselves. You understood if Bruce Wayne, head of a multi-million dollar company did so, but the youngest children were still in school so the idea baffled you. Rumor had it however that the children were apparent geniuses that didn’t even need to go to school but would attend whimsically and at their leisure. To travel the world so extensively, to come home only at night long after the housekeeping had left, then to keep out of sight for most of the day; what kind of people were they? To be rich, intelligent, and have the looks to top it all off, it was difficult to accept they were real at all.

It was noon when you were lost in thought, head filled with distractions once again and mindlessly polishing silverware in the kitchen. A couple of the other maids were helping with the task and were just as silent in their work. It was then that the chatter of unfamiliar voices traveled through the halls. The other maids didn’t dare speak so loudly so you were certain it wasn’t them.

“It seems the children are back,” Lena said, pausing in her work.

“Let’s go see!” Nour suggested, knowing you had yet to see a single member of the Wayne family. She ushered you out of the kitchens and led you down a long corridor decorated with carved wood furnishings and antiquated tapestries. You soon found the source of the voices and moved to hide behind a wall that opened to the side of the grand foyer. A group of girls and boys crossed the marble floor to ascend the winding double staircase.

“Cass and I are wearing matching Louboutin shoes,” a blond girl said, her voice echoing slightly in the vast room.

“You girls and your shoes,” one of the boys said.

“You don’t get to say anything, and don’t you dare wear your sneakers again. We bought you new shoes for a reason.”

“I can’t wear the Balenciaga shoes?”

“Wear the Valentino dress shoes.”

“You’d think the Gucci suit would be enough.”

Nour whispered to you as you watched the beautiful family, “The blond is Miss Stephanie. She’s not a Wayne but she’s here so often she might as well be. The girl next to her is Miss Cassandra. The taller guy is Master Dick, and the shorter one beside him is Master Timothy.”

You nodded as you watched them walk through the open corridor on the second floor. Then you asked, “That’s not all of them, though, right?”

“Hm, Master Damian and Master Jason are missing. They’re not here.” She then moved to one of the windows, pushing the drapes aside to peek out at the courtyard. “Oh, here they come now!” She beckoned you to join her at the window and you complied with her silent request.

“Master Damian is the youngest and Master Jason is following behind him.” The two boys were making their way to the front door without speaking a word to each other. Then the youngest suddenly flicked his eyes up at the window you stood at and you jerked back in surprise. Nour quickly closed the drapes and laughed sheepishly. “The youngest one is very sharp, they all are, but I assure you they are all very nice, too.”

“But why are they here all of a sudden?” you asked, confused at their coincidental appearance.

“They’re getting ready for the fundraiser in their own way,” Citlali answered from behind you. “It’s not common for them to be all together if it’s not for some big event.”

“Oh, I wonder what they’ll wear!” Nour said excitedly, seizing Citlali’s hands and ready to gush over clothing brands.

“I can’t wait to see,” Citlali said with equal enthusiasm. “They always dress like models, though I’m sure they have to with all the press and cameras constantly following them.”

“Are you girls finished gossiping? We need to unpack the chafing dishes and platters next,” Lena said as she emerged from the kitchen. “I know they’re all very pretty, but we will have time to gawk at them at the party. There’s still a lot of work to be done.”

You and the girls apologized and scurried back into the kitchen to continue the work. Your mind lingered on one of the sons, bothered by the fact you didn’t quite get a good look at him through the window, but you pushed the distraction out of your head. You didn’t need another one.

Oddly enough, that same night held another surprise for you: an unexpected visitor. You were in your bedroom, looking over your bills when you heard a soft rapping at your window. You were hesitant to investigate, now more wary of potential threats ever since that rainy night. You went to your bedroom window and pushed back the curtains, and though you were unsure what to expect, you almost screamed at the masked vigilante waiting patiently at the fire escape. He held his hand up in a short wave and you quickly returned to your senses to open the window for him.

He spoke first and in a very casual manner asked, “How have you been? Thought I’d check up on you.” He was crouched just outside your window and looking at you with a tilt of his head. It was almost off-putting how the kind words didn’t match the distorted voice that said them.

“Me? You’re the one who got hurt!” you said with concern, though you were careful to keep your voice down in fear of your neighbors hearing you. “How’s your hand? Is it alright?”

“It’s fine. Calm down.” Somehow his voice held an amused tone to it.

“Can I see?” you asked.

“Sure,” he said, slipping off his right glove. He raised it toward you and you took his hand in yours to examine the raised skin cutting across his palm. “See, it’s healing nicely, right?”

“Looks like it’ll scar,” you said and looked at him apologetically.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ve got a lot of scars.”

“I wish it hadn’t happened at all,” you muttered with a furrow of your brow.

“Well,” he said, taking back his hand, “I’d rather it happen to me than you any day. So let’s end it with that.”

You deflated with a sigh though the guilt stayed. Then you wondered if your hero went around visiting all the people he’s saved, but you were much too shy to ask.

“Anyway did you just move in? What’s with all the boxes?” He nodded his head toward the inside of your bedroom where piles of moving boxes could be seen past your shoulder.

“Oh,” you glanced behind you at the obvious mess. “Yeah, I started working the same day I moved in so I haven’t really had the time to organize things. There’s always so much work to do, I practically collapse when I get home. But these days haven’t been so bad since I’ve gotten used to the work now.”

“Well that explains why I’ve never seen you before,” he said, though it was more to himself than to you.

You paused and asked, “What do you mean? Why would you see me?”

“I, uh, patrol this area often so I know almost everyone’s faces. This area should be safer than most, especially with all the buildings owned by Wayne Enterprises here. It needs to be guarded more carefully.” You considered his words thoughtfully. He then asked, “Are the Waynes working you too hard?”

“Oh no, it’s not that. The work is fair, it just needs some getting used to that’s all. And recently I haven’t had much time to myself since it’s been getting busy…” you trailed off and wondered why you were sharing so much with someone you’ve only met twice.

“Busy how?” he questioned. He noticed your hesitation as you contemplated your next words. “Is it about the upcoming fundraiser?”

You looked at him with surprise. “How’d you know about that?”

“Bruce Wayne is the most famous person in the city, it’s impossible to escape him,” he explained. “The fundraiser is no secret. Most everyone knows about it.”

You nodded at the logic. “The fundraiser is my first big event since I started working at the Manor. It’s nerve-wracking.” Among other things, you thought to yourself, with one of the sources of your anxiety right in front of you.

“I’ll be there, you know,” he said. “At the fundraiser.”

“What? Like, in disguise? As a guest?” you asked curiously.

“Maybe,” he said vaguely. “You’ll just have to see. Anyway I’ve got work to do. I’ll visit again,” then he paused before continuing politely, “unless you don’t want me to. Can I come by again?”

Heat crept across your face. “Yes. I’d like that very much.” Then a thought crossed your mind and you called out to him as he took a step back, “Wait, will I really get to see you?” If he really was going to attend as a guest, it meant he was possibly some big shot name in Gotham. You were suddenly nervous to be working in front of him.

“That’ll just ruin the surprise. Call me Red Hood, by the way.” You already knew his vigilante name; you didn’t have to search long for it after meeting him. But you hoped he would introduce himself with a different name. “And you? Tell me yours.” He leaned in closer and you backed up slightly as your face grew warmer.

“I…” you began but changed your mind quickly, “I’ll tell you next time.”

There was a short pause but then the grating sound of his laugh emitted from his helmet. “Fair enough. I’ll hold you to that, princess.” Then he stood and jumped off the fire escape landing. When you could no longer follow his figure in the darkness you shut the window and pulled the curtains closed. Once again you were back in a dream-like state, feeling both elated and hopeful after meeting him again.

The next days continued to be more hectic than you could’ve possibly imagined. Once the skies cleared large tents and canopies were set up in the back garden, lights were hung, and flower arrangements were laid out all under Alfred’s instructions. Alfred performed most of the work, making calls and ordering from businesses in which he was a regular customer. Food, table rentals, and valet services were ordered yet somehow Alfred found time to assist with the daily mundane chores.

The day of the event arrived quickly and you didn’t know what you were more nervous about, finally seeing the famous Wayne family up close or seeing the Red Hood again. However you found you didn’t have time to be anxious with both your mind and body busy preparing for the day. Your day started at two in the afternoon instead of seven in the morning, since you were needed after the event to help with cleanup. You had laid out the drinks and hors d'oeuvres for the staff of the charity foundation who arrived early then assisted them as they set up their own equipment and set up the easels for the art pieces. You were already tired by the time the actual event started and you began directing the attendees through the Manor. The guests steadily filtered into the grand foyer and made their way down the long hallway and out again to the back garden.

The Waynes decided to show their faces after the first few guests arrived. The men donned clothing that was a mixture of business and formal wear while the daughter wore a modest dress of no lesser quality. As they walked through the long corridor to the back garden you couldn’t help but stare while your heart pounded in your chest. You easily recognized Bruce Wayne as he walked at the front, leading his family as they trailed behind him. Your eyes then found the second eldest son who was muttering something to the eldest, a frown marring his face. This one was Jason. Your eyes lingered on him but when you thought he might look your way you averted your eyes downward as heat spread to your cheeks. You were standing at the end of the corridor to assist the guests as they maneuvered their way through the Manor and now that this beautiful family was walking towards you, the need to run away kicked in, but instead you kept your gaze low as they approached. You didn’t dare look up as they strode past you and you could only breathe easily once they were out of sight, lost amidst the gardens.

Once most of the guests arrived, you set champagne glasses on a serving tray and made your way through the masses to offer guests refreshments while also taking their empty glasses. You continued like this until most of the guests finished their evening meals, which was rather quickly. They ate small portions and consumed their food in a swift manner so as to not ruin their fancy clothes. You couldn’t blame them; you would be careful too if you were eating in such expensive attire.

It was easy to feel out of place amongst the glitz and glam of the event. The Lamborghinis, Jaguars, Rolls Royce, and other luxury cars were parked just outside the rotunda in the vast courtyard. Models and business tycoons alike were all sporting brand name designer clothes: Chanel, Gucci, Saint Laurent, Versace. Nour had pointed out a fanny pack worth a thousand dollars that made you almost gag on the spot upon hearing it. It was an amount that could cover months of groceries, or even a considerable portion of the loans you needed to pay off. 

You continued to think about the expenses even as you took a break to rest and retreated back into the Manor. You made your way to one of the balconies on the second floor where you could admire the party from above. You leaned against the railing, the stone balustrade cool to the touch, and stayed there for several minutes. The party seemed far away now, the music and chatter only distant noises as you closed your tired eyes for a moment.

“It’s boring, right?”

The familiar discordant voice made you flinch and your eyes snapped open to try to find its owner. You didn’t expect to hear it in the silence. You didn’t know how you forgot Red Hood would be attending when you had been so anxious about it all week long.

.

.

.

tagged: 

@chims-kookies

[theimaginesyouneveraskedfor]

Foreigner’s God {Four}

Chapter Four: Subversion

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

Still working so here’s another chapter if anyone’s reading :) As always, comments, questions, anything is loved!

The last few days had been uneventful. The tedium worried Ilona as she knew that the prince would not have forgotten his promise, he was merely biding his time; machinating. She tried to keep him from her mind knowing to do so was to welcome his mischief. It only gave him the gratification he was so desperately seeking. 

So it was that she stood in the palace kitchen, peeling potatoes as she waited for sky to fall. The starch covered her hands as she tossed a skin into the pail. Another servant, Gale, helped her in her work, though both did so silently. The hum of voices throughout the kitchen gave little need for conversation. Besides, Della was always timely enough insofar that she could rebuke the Vraji servant.

When she finished the task, Ilona was due to visit Frigga again. The cuff had chafed quite a bit in the last week and the release of magic would help. She didn’t relish the fact that the queen still tried to tame it but Frigga also didn’t realize she was helping Ilona. The pent up magick trail around her was unnatural; it clouded her mind and senses. Made her weak to the tricks of others.

When she at last had peeled the last spud, she tossed it in one of the large bowls and looked to Gale who stared at the yet to be diced veggies. “I’ll cover you dish washing shift,” Ilona offered, “I’m afraid, however, I must see the queen before long.”

“Can’t say no to that,” Gale chimed, “Chopping potatoes is nothing to scrubbing away the scraps of--”

A rise of voices interrupted Gale, and Ilona turned as the rabble grew nearer to the kitchen. Della’s voice was shrill as she fell into her usual reproach and a skinny blond appeared in the doorway skin ashen and eyes glassy. She stumbled inside as the head kitchen maid followed her. The thin servant leaned against the counter not far from Ilona and Gale, holding her hand to her chest.

It took a moment for Ilona to understand the scene before her. The blonde servant wore the green sash of the younger prince, but the beige dress beneath was stained in scarlet drops. The hand she hugged to her was bundled in a bloody handkerchief; the cause of her hazy state. “I swear, I d-didn’t do it.” She stuttered.

“You dumb girl. You’re lucky the king only took your finger,” Della hissed, “Stealing from the prince!”

“I didn’t steal,” The girl pleaded, “Please. You can’t send me away. I have nowhere else to go. No one else will hire me.”

“Brothels are not so picky,” Della sneered.

“The girl’s already lost a digit,” Ilona interjected, “I think she’s learned her lesson.” She came up beside the thin servant, “Let me see the finger.” The girl shook her head fearfully. “If you don’t, you’ll soon pass out from loss of blood.”

Ilona held out her hand and waited. Slowly the girl reached out, revealing the missing ring finger on her right hand. “What is your name?”

“Doesn’t matter what her name is, she’s a thief. I’ll not have her in the kitchens.” Della snapped.

“They’ll take her in the laundries,” Ilona assured. They were always in need of washers. “Now, tell me your name.”

“Lora,” She answered shakily as Ilona examined her hand.

“Gale,” She nodded to the other servant, “Get an iron spatula and heat it over the fire.”

“What are you doing?” Lora squealed, trying to pull away.

“Saving your hand. Even your life,” Ilona replied, “It’ll hurt but it is better than an infection. We must close this before you lose any more blood. Keep pressure on it.”

Ilona moved away from the girl, disappearing into the pantry before returning with a bottle of sherry. She poured a snifter for Lora and bid her drink, which she did thankfully. Gale appeared with the red hot utensil and Ilona took the girl’s hand, pressing it to the iron as she was distracted. Lora screamed as the flesh cauterized and Ilona released her, holding her shoulders so that she did not fall over from pain.

“Shh, shh,” She comforted Lora, “It hurts now but it will fade.” She sighed, glancing over at Della who was thoroughly unimpressed by the scene. “I’m sorry. It was the only way.”

Tears streamed down the girl’s cheeks and she sniffed. “I know,” She said quietly. “I didn’t steal, I swear it.”

“Be that as it may, you still have your head. Go to the laundries and ask Eida if she has a position for you. She can’t say no to an extra laundress,” Ilona offered her another sip of sherry before sending her off with a squeeze of her elbow.

“You no authority to overrule me,” Della snarled.

“I didn’t overrule you. You are the kitchen maid, not the palace marm. The girl would have been dismissed directly by the king if it was called for. She’s suffered enough.” Ilona wiped up the blood left behind by the girl and rinsed her hands in a basin, drying them on her apron. “I must go, the actual queen is awaiting me.”

Della huffed in disbelief. The look on her face was enough for Ilona though she didn’t show her pleasure. The kitchen maid acted as if she alone wore the crown of Asgard and hated when any dared to remind her of her true status. She despised more that the Vraji servant was unconcerned with such matters and that her venom often had no effect.

Ilona walked her usual path to the queen’s chambers. She did not stop as she had realized that only invited her pursuant closer. Yet she didn’t sense him, not until she reached the last corridor. She had learned not to let on when she felt him close, it only lured him nearer. When she raised her hand to knock on Frigga’s door, she knew he was waiting within.

Welcomed as she was last time, she followed Frigga’s personal servant to the next chamber. Frigga was in the same chair but Loki was not so relaxed. He stood with his back to the room before the fireplace. His hands were clasped behind his back as he stared into the flames. Despite his nonchalance, he had been expecting her.

“Ah, Ilona, timely as ever,” Frigga rose to greet her, “Please, sit.”

“Your majesty,” Ilona ignored the prince and sat, raising her leg as the queen bid as she retrieved her tools.

“We shall try a new method,” Frigga set out a crystal jar on the table next to her chair, but this time produced a metal tool resembling a tuning fork. Bending to examine the anklet before commencing her efforts and resuming her former conversation with her son. “Do not fret, Loki,” She said over her shoulder as she collected the aura from around Ilona’s leg, “You will find an attendant you can trust. The girl was young; she did not think.”

Frigga pulled back, carefully taking the crystal vessel and lowering the prongs of the fork inside. The magick swirled as she fastidiously removed the utensil, her blue eyes glowing at the jar. Alas, as she reached for the lid, the crystal cracked end the translucent vapours dispersed from within. She had once more failed.

“Gods,” She swore as she stood, hands on hips as she looked Ilona up and down. She tilted her head slightly and raised a brow. “Say, there might be a solution to your problem right before us, Loki.” Ilona stiffened, trying her best not to show it. “Ilona here is a kitchen servant but I’m certain she could easily take the place of a chambermaid. She might be Vraji but she is dutiful.”

The prince turned slowly. He feigned doubt as he looked from his mother to the servant sat on the sofa. He shook his head and turned his hands out helplessly. “Really, Mother, I don’t think I should take on just any servant.”

“She’s not just any servant, my son. And besides, it would do her well to be near magick more often. She is attuned to it.” She preened as she stepped closer to her son, “And perhaps, you could help me decipher hers.”

“Your grace,” Ilona stood sharply, “With all due respect, I am a kitchen servant and I am needed there. I should be going as it were.”

“They can wait,” Frigga waved away the argument, “You are free to choose your own attendant, but I merely thought it an easy solution.”

“Hmm,” Loki blinked, rubbing his chin as if considering.

Ilona knew he had already decided. It was simple enough to guess that he had chosen to have this conversation just as she was expected to arrive. It was an expertly contrived scheme and his dear mother loved him too much to suspect him. 

“I cannot wait around for days without a chambermaid.” He sighed, “I trust your judgment, Mother.”

“Marvelous,” Frigga sang as she turned to the servant, “Consider this your reward, Ilona, for your years of compliance.” Years of misery, Ilona thought to herself. Were it not for similar misfortune, she’d not have fallen so easily to the Asgardian charlatans.

Ilona kept her face placid and bowed her head. “Thank you, your grace. Should I inform the kitchen maid at least?”

“Of course, carry on in your duties for the time being. Tomorrow morning shall mark the beginning of your new position.” She smiled at the servant, “It is a great honour; Non-Asgardians are not oft chosen as royal servants.”

With that, Frigga dismissed the servant and knelt to examine the cracked jar, tossing aside the tuning fork with a quiet curse. Loki caught Ilona’s eye before she could turn away and he smirked. She made for the door before he got the best of her, remembering Lora’s missing finger. She wasn’t so eager to find out the punishment for assaulting a prince.

[thoughtfulpostsalad]

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[imaginethisbts]

Out of the Blue 03

Rated: M

Warnings: Explicit vulgar hybrid smut, knotting, dirty talk.

Summary: Jungkook has only ever thought of his breeding clients as just that - clients, and he’s always quite indifferent to them since he only ever knows them for a short period of time. But then you come along, and he starts experiencing feelings that aren’t being manipulated by your heat. Real feelings, that he has never harbored before with anyone else.

Notes: finally part 3 is here!! this one was really tricky. i edited it so much in terms of adding parts, then turning around and taking them back out and just completely removing an entire scene and replacing it with something that flowed better. ugh. i have mixed feelings on this, but it is what it is lmfao i mean all it is is smut so i guess it really doesnt matter. enjoys babes <3

Words: 6.3k

01 | 02 | 03 | 04

It was odd, Namjoon thought, at how comfortable you and Jungkook seemed to be around each other, having only known each other for a little over a day. He couldn't even begin wrap his head around the way 'natural instincts' and 'pheromones' worked between you two, but then again, he was merely just a human. Last night was weird and he couldn't exactly say he liked it, as he slept alone again for the first time in a very long while, having to keep himself warm without you there being his little heater. 

The first night here was hard, but there was something about last night that was almost unbearable. 

He got little sleep because he couldn't stop thinking about you, and how you were dealing with sleeping without him these past two nights since you had never done so before, but then he realized you were probably perfectly fine - curled up beside Jungkook, sleeping peacefully with the other's arms tightly around you. His arms were probably so tight because he was probably afraid someone would try to take you away from him in the middle of the night while you two slept.

Well, that was if you even got any sleep, did your fevers subside long enough for you to get some shut-eye? Or were you two at it all night?

Namjoon shook his head in mild disgust, trying to clear his mind of the unwanted images that started popping up and he looked out of the window, down at the pool where you and Jungkook were playing in the water together. He watched on, a strange sort of jealousy planted in his chest. Could he really not even get one moment alone with you? He just didn't quite know how to cope with that - didn't understand how Jungkook could be that possessive.

But again, he was just a human. How could he possibly understand?

"It doesn't matter if you just want to hug her or check up on her, Jungkook sees it as a threat - it makes him anxious and upset, because to him he think's you're going to snatch her away from him and try to make her yours. You may not understand, but please, do try to respect them."

Seokjin had explained to him rather firmly earlier today after he had said something offhandedly bitter about Jungkook's possessiveness over you.

It was true, he didn't understand one bit, but he decided to respect Jungkook anyways like Seokjin had suggested. After all, he had agreed to this and paid the large sum of money for this to happen. The only thing was, at the time of the agreement he didn't know how strange it was going to be.

It'll be over soon.

Snapping back out of his thoughts and looking out of the large window down at you and Jungkook, he noticed during his bout of reflective thoughts that the playfulness in the water you two had been enjoying had quickly turned into something.... else, to say the least.

You two had gotten out of the water, stark naked, and Jungkook already had you on your hands and knees in the grass area next to the pool, closing in behind you on his knees as you arched your back and-- Namjoon widened his eyes, quickly turning his back to the window before he saw something he didn't quite want to see.

The last thing he wanted right now was to see one of your little 'sessions' as Seokjin always referred to them as. Lord knows he had heard enough, even with how big the mansion was. No matter where he went, he was always conveniently near an area you and Jungkook decided to get busy in.

And this was only the third day?

Namjoon let out a long sigh, running his hands down his face tiredly and when his eyes shifted up, he jumped a bit when saw Seokjin standing at the entrance of the room all of the sudden.

"Oh, Seokjin ssi. Didn't hear you come in," Namjoon chuckled, scratching behind his ear and feeling heat rush to his face for whatever reason.

Truthfully he didn't know what to call the room they were in, a sitting room maybe? It had plenty of couches and chairs, with bookcases lining most of the wall space with one large window and two medium sized ones on either side taking up the span of the back wall. And through the glass there was a perfect view of the lavish backyard, which had a patio with a mini bar, a rock pool and perfectly trimmed trees and freshly mowed grass.

"I was looking for you to tell you lunch was ready if you were still hungry. I know earlier you mentioned how you were, so," the other smiled, stepping closer until he got to the window, the one which Namjoon had just stepped away from.

"I wouldn't-" Namjoon began, trying to save the other from seeing something he probably didn't want to, but Seokjin was already looking through the glass, an amused laugh leaving his lips when he spotted you two, Namjoon assumed.

"They really can't control themselves, can they?" He sounded so amused and there was a slight hint of fondness in his tone.

"Uh, yeah, doesn't seem like it." The amusement and fondness didn't quit reach his voice like it did with Seokjin's. Oh well, he supposed he just didn't see the 'cuteness' in it like the other man did.

"Honestly, I've never seen a heat session so extreme like this before. And it's only the third day - this is a first for Jungkook," for some absolute unknown reason, Namjoon's eyes got caught on the other's lips as he spoke, and he couldn't for the life of himself look away, almost as if he was mesmerized by the plushness of them and how soft they seemed like they would be against-- whoa, wait a minute, where the fuck was he going with this?

He blinked in shock at himself, averting his widened eyes to some other place, and that some other place wasn't exactly any better than before. At all, in fact. It just so happened to be the broad expanse of the other's shoulders. They were tucked in firmly in a white v-neck t-shirt that stretched across his back to accommodate them and Jesus Christ, you could land a Goddamn plane on those.

When he caught himself biting his lip at the sight, he just about slapped his own face in disgust at how out of it he was being and he quickly turned away from Seokjin, trying to regain his fucking sanity that somehow seemed to leave him whenever the other man came around.

This was not him, Namjoon was not like this. He has always prided himself on being a levelheaded man who knew how to take control of situations and be able to make sense of them - of why they're happening and any possible solutions them. But right now... right now Namjoon was so lost with his emotions and whatever the fuck was happening between him and Seokjin that he didn't even know what to think or feel. He was confused and a little irritated with himself because he's just met the guy and Namjoon's already allowing him to manipulate his emotions with a simple smile.

Jesus fuck.

"They'll be done down there soon probably. I’m gonna ask Somi to go take a towel out there for them to rest on afterwards," Seokjin spoke as if he was speaking to himself because it didn't really sound like he was talking to Namjoon directly.

"Somi?" Namjoon repeated the name in slight confusion, not recognizing the name.

"She's a maid here."

Oh right yes, of course. He almost forgot he was in a mansion bustling with servants. 

“I’d do it myself, but if a male were to walk up to them right now, Jungkook would not be a happy camper. Probably won’t be very happy with Somi either, but oh well.”

The other man finally looked away from the window, directing his gaze to Namjoon now with a smile on his face.

His smile could probably heal a wound, Namjoon suddenly thought to himself in exasperation as he rushed to return the smile. Although it probably looked more on the lines of a grimace - what with his train of thought and everything.

"Anyways, if you're hungry there's something real good waiting in the kitchen. Care to join me and find out what it is?" Seokjin winked playfully and walked passed him towards the door, brushing their shoulders together lightly as he went, not even waiting for his answer.

Namjoon gazed at his back as he headed for the door, in a daze, his shoulder tingling from the light contact.

Something real good waiting in the kitchen? Was it going to be Seokjin?

No, you fucking idiot, he already said it was food.

If Seokjin were a food, Namjoon couldn't decide if he'd be a juicy rib-eye steak with lobster tail on the side, or a perfect slice of cherry pie with a dollop of whipped cream on the top.

Hmm...

No, he'd be something more fancy than either of those things, Namjoon concluded. But Namjoon couldn't really think of much fancier foods - he wasn't a fancy dude, didn't have a fancy vocabulary full of delectable dishes.

He continued gazing, only snapping out of it when the other turned around in the door frame, raising an amused eyebrow.

"You coming?"

Oh my God, did he really just zone out and ponder about which type of dish Seokjin would be while said-man was standing right in front of him?

He's fucking lost it.

But his feet begin to move of their own accord, following Seokjin out of the sitting room anyways.

Of course he was coming.

The blades of grass started feeling like needles on your hands and knees, chafing your soft skin as Jungkook incessantly pounded his way into you from behind. You let out a high whine, dropping onto your elbows and spreading your knees further apart, trying to get some sort of relief. Jungkook was forced to lean down over you now in your new position and he did so with a reverberating growl in his chest, hooking his chin over your shoulder and nipping hard at your ear, making you tilt your head away and whimper.

Your wet hair stuck to your face and you could feel water droplets from Jungkook's body drip onto you, and then roll off of you onto the grass in what seemed like an endless cycle. He kept growling harshly in your ear as his hips slapped rapidly into your ass, the sound of wet skin meeting skin over and over again joining the other outside noises of the backyard - like the sounds of birds chirping and the trickling of water from the waterfall into the pool. You arched your back even more, trying to make sure the position was perfect for his knot and the action earned you another nip on the ear. Oddly one of his ways to show his approval.

In the blink of an eye, it had gone from innocent playing in the swimming pool, to a shiver running through your body and Jungkook being on you within seconds - tugging you out of the pool and into the grass where he could mount you properly.

It was indescribable, the feeling that rushed through your body and into your brain whenever your fever returned, consuming every inch of you. It was an extreme desperation and yearning, one that would become physically unbearable if not taken care of within a reasonable amount of time. But it was the most wondrous, perfect feeling ever, how Jungkook would immediately become aware of your desires and give you exactly what your body so desperately needed.

God, you loved being under Jungkook, having Jungkook inside of you, having his mouth on some inch of your skin. You felt like you belonged to him, and he to you.

Just as you could start feeling Jungkook's knot swelling, a strange scent filled your nostrils, but after sniffing at the air for a moment you realized it was female and non-threatening so you decided it wasn't anything for you to fret over. However, you could feel Jungkook tense above you immediately and his chest begin to rumble from a deep, possessive growl. You couldn't see his face, but you knew for a fact there was a snarl on it, his hips gradually slowing down and his knot continuing to inflate.

He straightened up on his knees again, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable now that he wasn't covering your body with his own, but you assumed he did so in order to look at the oncoming presence and appear more intimidating, no doubt puffing his chest out.

"Mr. Jeon, I was told by Mr. Kim to bring a towel down for you two to rest on, after you.." The voice trailed off when Jungkook let out a particularly intimidating growl and then he was on you again, bending down to nuzzle his way to your neck so he could lick at it. One of his favorite ways to show his claim over you, despite the fact you two were currently knotted together - his claim quite obvious.

He was still growling lowly in his chest, and whoever the person was threw whatever she was holding - the towel, you assumed - down beside you two and then she retreated back to the house - her scent becoming weaker and weaker until she was behind a closed door again.

Since his knot was almost fully formed he couldn't thrust anymore so he just opted to grind against you, making you whimper from the slight stinging pinch it caused and then shortly afterwards you could feel his warm seed splash within you. The sensation drew a moan out of you suddenly, loving that feeling more than absolutely anything. It made you feel blissful and fulfilled.

You lifted your head and turned it to the side, whining in your throat for Jungkook's attention. He leaned his head in quickly, making a tired noise of question as he brushed his nose against yours and you licked at his mouth helplessly, the taste of him sending a jolt of pleasure throughout your body. To your delight he licked back, your tongues lapping at each other earnestly and you whimpered when you felt another spurt of his cum inside, brought on by another surge of excitement no doubt.

Licking Jungkook with his cock nestled firmly inside of you, still leaking from uncontrolled excitement and arousal.

It was perfect.

After awhile, you worked together on spreading out the towel the female had brought to you and then carefully laying down on top of it on your sides to rest. Jungkook held you close to him, back pressed firmly against his chest and his hips were flat against your ass, keeping his knot from tugging and hurting you. He languidly licked and kissed at your ear and you closed your eyes and smiled, enjoying the feeling of his mouth and the wonderful weather outside. It was such a beautiful day, you hummed happily in content.

Once his knot deflated enough to pull out and you exchanged respectful licks, you decided to head back inside for something to eat and drink.

You were snuggled into Jungkook on the big bed that you two have just about ruined over the past couple of days as you watched a cartoon television show called Bob's Burgers. You had never seen it before, but Jungkook said it was funny and probably his favorite show, so you decided to watch it while snuggling and eating your chicken nuggets.

A laugh came tumbling passed your lips at a random thing the character Gene had said and the sound made Jungkook shift, tugging you in a bit closer and resting his chin on your head.

It was silent as you both watched the TV and it was a slight struggle to eat your chicken while being in such a tight grip of his, but you were not complaining at all. It was the most comforting feeling you had ever experienced. Struggle be damned.

"How long have you-- been working, you know? Working at a place, at an actual job and everything." Jungkook suddenly inquired, taking you a bit by surprise - so enthralled in the show that you weren't expecting such a question. And by the way he said it made him sound like he had been thinking about it for a little bit. Trying to think of a way to say it, to word it perhaps.

Craning your neck, you looked up at him. "Ever since I was a little pup. Why?" Setting your chicken nuggets aside, you scooted up some on the bed, prepared to talk about this if that's what he wanted. It would be tricky since the subject was closely related to Namjoon since it was his cafe you worked at, but you would try to avoid explicitly bringing him up if possible.

"Nothing, I'm just--curious, is all." He responded, raising his hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face, making your ears flutter from the gentle action.

You looked up at his own ears and noticed that they were both slightly flattened instead of one perked up and the other being flat like they always were when he was 'curious'.

With your own curiosity piqued now, you moved out of his arms and up onto your knees on the bed. He rolled fully onto his back, arms held in the air in slight confusion as to what you were doing, but that was before you swung a leg over his waist and settled your weight onto him, putting his confusion to rest.

"Tell me," you grinned down at him, "what are you thinking about? What's going on up there?" You knocked lightly on his head with your knuckles, playing with him.

Jungkook snagged your hand and he held it as he scooted up further on the bed to where he was half-sitting up against the pillows with you in his lap.

"Don't hit me." Maybe the words could have been threatening or even a command, if it weren't for the big grin on his face and the amusing tone of voice he used.

Jerking your hand out of his grip, you slapped it onto his arm to be funny and stubborn, but you were almost jarred at how hard it was. There was no give, at all. You looked at his bicep, eyes widening a bit as you marveled at the sculpted piece of flesh and muscle beneath. Jesus Christ.

"Jungkook..." You breathed out, barely audible, but you bet your ass Jungkook heard it plain as day. As he was suddenly hyper-aware of your every movement, word, breath. You ran your fingertip down the ridge of a highly defined spot, swallowing the gathering saliva in your throat at the amazing feeling. "You're so strong..."

Licking his lips, he flexed, making it ten times more defined and you just about swallowed your fucking tongue at the feeling of the rock-hard bicep beneath your fingertips.

It was so hot, God it was so fucking hot that it had you whining helplessly, leaning down and nosing at it before poking your tongue out and licking a defined ridge. Jungkook made the most delicious sound, a deep growl of disbelief and arousal delightfully shaking you to the core.

His hands suddenly found purchase on your hips, grip tightening and fingers pressing into your delicate flesh when you decided to squirm slightly in his lap. Your tail wagged submissively behind you from the strong hold on your body, the reminder of Jungkook's strength and dominance sending a jolt of excitement straight in between your thighs.

You stroked your cheek against his bicep, eyes shifting upwards to look at him only to find that he was already gazing at you with a familiar darkness in his orbs that was not there moments ago. His jaw was clenched and nostrils flared slightly from his breathing becoming more worked up and heavy with every passing moment. So from that and his dark eyes, it gave him an overall wickedly lustful expression.

A familiar fire began to spread throughout your stomach, arousing your lower region as you felt yourself beginning to produce slick in response to the current situation. However, it was a bit different from when your fever caused it. Instead of feeling frantic and wanting to race to the finish line, you felt like taking it slow, building things up and reveling in the emotions without rushing. You lifted your head to place a gentle kiss to his tense jaw and then moving up, you touched your lips lightly against his. So light that it was almost teasing.

Jungkook let out a small deep growl in the back of his throat, tilting his head forwards, putting more pressure into the kiss. But you pulled back a little when he did so, not allowing him to intensify the kiss, keeping it featherlight.

His grip on your hips tightened even more, almost a warning to not tease him as he tried once again to put more pressure into the kiss. But you just grinned lightly as you pulled back once more, wanting to see how worked up you could get him over this.

Your stomach tightened and burned when he growled in warning, the sound so deep and intimidating that it had you flattening your ears and suppressing a whimper from falling out. You were soaked between your thighs by now and you could feel the heat radiating from Jungkook's hardened cock, which was so close to your pussy but just barely missing it.

He tried one more time at kissing you more forcefully, but you were too quick and tilted your head back just in time, this time with a little breathless giggle. However, Jungkook was having none it - finding nothing amusing about your game at all.

Expecting him to just growl at you again, you were taken by surprise when he suddenly had you pinned to the bed in what seemed like the blink of an eye. He was on top of you, strong grip trapping your hands against the mattress above your head and you whimpered, baring your throat in submission and Jungkook leaned down, nipping at your neck hard in punishment from teasing him.

You let out a pained whine, keeping your neck bared, a gush of wetness leaking out of your throbbing entrance as a reaction to his delicious dominance. Glancing up, you saw how tensed and defined his shoulders and collarbones were from the strength he was using to hold your arms to the bed. It was so unbelievably arousing that you couldn't help but to shift your hips, needing some sort of friction. Some relief.

Jungkook breathed in deeply through his nostrils, smelling the wonderful, heady scent of your slick and he groaned, dizzy and overwhelmed with the intoxicating aroma.

God, he had to fucking taste. He had to get some of that sweetness on his tongue, had to drink you up and lick you dry just for you to soak yourself all over again.

He licked frantically at the little red bite mark he created on your neck from his punishment, whimpering an apology that was acknowledged with a whimper of your own.

Unable to wait any longer, he gave one final lick to your mark before he let go of your arms and began moving down your body. Backing up until his face was right where he wanted it to be. Needed it to be. He parted your legs and the cool air of the bedroom hit your wet center, making you tremble and try to close them again. But Jungkook growled and forced them open, holding them apart so he had room to work for his head.

Down here, he was so intoxicated by the smell of your aroused pussy, so wet and swollen, that he had to shake his head to try and regain some semblance of straight-thinking and control. Thinking back to your first session together, and how he had ate you up in order to prep you for his cock, his mouth literally starting watering when he remembered how good you tasted.

You shifted your hips and another trickle of slick released from your hole as you did so, making his cock pulsate and mouth salivate so intensely that he was afraid drool would start leaking out of the sides of his lips if he wasn't careful.

He watched a droplet of slick slide down one of your swollen lips and you seemed to have clenched in anticipation, being so wet that it literally made a squelching sound when you did so and suddenly whatever control Jungkook had over himself was no more. Completely and utterly gone.

With no refrain, he dived straight in, shoving his tongue in between your folds and gathering some of your juices, slurping them into his mouth and sucking on your swollen, dripping lips. He had you squirming and whining, your thighs trembling so badly that he almost felt guilty for a second, but he just gripped them harder to try and still them, no doubt leaving bruises in his wake.

"J-Jungkook," you whined in that pitiful voice of yours, bucking your hips weakly. He suctioned his lips around your entrance and sucked, drinking in your slick, tasting the sweetness as it passed over his tongue and down his throat deliciously. Precum beaded at the tip of his throbbing cock, neglected and yearning for your tight heat to be clamped around it.

His nose was dipped between your folds and tickling your clit in his head's current position and he was going at you so wildly and messily that his entire mouth, cheeks, nose, chin, were just glistening and wet.

Jungkook ate you out so well that by the time he was finished, the only wetness that seemed to be left was his saliva, as he had sucked and licked and drank up every ounce of slick you had produced. He had even spread your ass cheeks apart in order to lick up the juices that had slid in between them, licking over your puckered hole as you squirmed more frantically, the sensation nothing if not foreign and strange.

When he finally deemed himself done, he crawled back up your body and shoved his tongue into your mouth, making you taste yourself. His cock was pulsating so intensely now that it was becoming unbearable, he had to get it inside of you or else it was going to fucking explode.

So he grabbed your waist to flip you over on your hands and knees, but you gripped his arms, stopping him. "Wait!" You suddenly exclaimed. "Wait, can we--can we fuck like this?" Your voice was shaky but you stared up at him with pleading, urgent eyes. "Please?"

Taken by surprise, Jungkook sat back and looked at you quizzically. Face to face? He cant say he's ever done that before, or that he's ever wanted to. Because not only is it odd, but he doesn't think he can get a good enough hold on you in this position. Can't grip your hips and jostle you around like he needs to.

"I want to see your face," you whispered, chest still rising and falling heavily from how he had just licked you up and ate you out. Timidly, you reached up with your hand, brushing your fingertips against his cheek and then placing your palm onto it.

His ears twitched from the sudden soft touch and he looked down at you, at your beautiful face and your breasts, nipples hardened and in perfect condition for your future puppies. His chest tightened with adoration at the sight of you and he realized maybe fucking like this wouldn't be so bad, if he had this view.

Instead of giving you a verbal answer, Jungkook decided to just grip underneath your thighs and shove your legs apart and upwards to where they were crowding towards your stomach, rougher than necessary. But the roughness seemed to only arouse you more, as he smelt a fresh stream of slick leak out of you afterwards.

Bending down, he licked your lips before pressing his into them - kissing hard, with enough pressure to have your head pressing back into the mattress slightly. This was for teasing him earlier. His heavy cock was resting against the juncture of your thigh and pelvic bone, throbbing and drooling, impatiently waiting for that hot, tight heavenly wetness.

He took one hand off of your thigh in order to grab his thick length, dragging it down through your wet folds slowly and to your raw entrance. You winced when he poked the tip of his cock inside, sensitive from the way he ate you so roughly and the sudden stretch had been anticipated, but unexpected at the same time.

God, had he gotten bigger since the last time you fucked? Or maybe you had gotten tighter somehow, but anyways the stretch this time around caused for a lot more effort than the times before and you whimpered as he pushed more of himself inside.

Jungkook looked at your face, watching it scrunch up cutely as you tried to take him in your pussy. Something you had done many times before with no issues at all, so he shoved the rest of himself inside of you with a jerk of his hips, balls pressing into your ass.

Throwing your head back you let out a whine, one that made his ears twitch from the pitch of it and he growled lightly at you, nosing at your cheek for a moment and then licking it to try and placate you.

Your pussy pulsed around him, hot, tight walls clenching and releasing as you tried to accomodate his girth and holy fuck, it felt so fucking good. Better than he could have ever even hoped for.

Knowing very well you could take his cock, he started thrusting his hips without any concern, growling in warning when you tried whimpering pitifully at the movements. Your hands made their way to his lower stomach, applying pressure as if to try and get him to pull out or something, but Jungkook was having none of that and just grabbed your wrists and trapped them above your head like he had done to you earlier.

There was something different about this time, the sensation of having him inside of you was so overwhelming and you could feel him perfectly within, could feel the tip of his dick close to your cervix and feel how it throbbed in pleasure.

The pace of his thrusts started to increase, catching up to how strung out and worked up he has been for the past while, and you squirmed beneath him, whining and trying to pull your arms out of his grasp.

Jungkook's grip tightened and he kissed you roughly again, swallowing your whimpers when he started fucking harder. "Stop that, I know you can take my cock." He growled deeply against your lips, fucking you into the mattress deliciously. "Can't you?"

You nodded your head eagerly in response and pressed your lips together again, enjoying being in this position with him right now despite how overwhelming it was - your inner walls had never been so sensitive.

But suddenly it occurred to you - you were not in a heat fever. This was not a breeding act. You were currently fucking Jungkook out of your own utter desire, in a recreational type way, not with the endgame hoping to be tied up and plumb full with his cum. Maybe that was why the sensations were a bit different, your body wasn't as naturally prepared for a fuck. When your fever came around, your entrance would practically gape in anticipation, so that could be why the stretch was so intense this time.

Pressing your wrists into the mattress with force, Jungkook used the leverage to really start fucking you hard and fast now. His pelvis and balls were covered in your wetness, making the sound of skin on skin contact more loud and prominent. His lower stomach began to burn and tighten, signaling his approaching climax, but it was odd because his knot hadn't started forming yet and it was always almost half-way inflated by now.

Out of nowhere, your body seized up as a lightening bolt of the purest form of pleasure jolted throughout your body. The same feeling you experienced whenever you would feel Jungkook's cum spurt inside of you.

The blissful release had you spasming around his cock, pussy clenching and unclenching rapidly. "Oh, fuck, J-Jungkook," you breathed heavily against his mouth, panting from the intense sensation.

Unable to withstand the squeezing, Jungkook surprisingly pressed his hips into yours and blew his load inside of you, with no knot present at all. Giving himself some time to bask in the aftermath of his pleasure, he would deal with the strange occurrence in a bit. Laying down and resting some of his weight on you, but not all of it of course, he continued giving you some small thrusts, just riding out his high until he became too sensitive to keep doing so.

The two of you were breathing so heavily and your skin was stuck together like glue from all of the sweat, he could feel your hard nipples pressing into his chest and strands of hair were stuck to your sweaty face, making you look completely fucked and spent. Driven by an impulse urge, Jungkook leaned in and kissed your lips and you hummed tiredly as you kissed him back without hesitation. 

After awhile, he shifted his hips experimentally, feeling his cock slip half-way out of you, something that would never have happened if his knot was plugged within. His movement would have caused you great discomfort, and probably would have earned himself a pained whine. But you did nothing of the sorts.

"I-I didn't knot you," he mumbled in confusion, looking at you and seeing on your face that you looked a little confused yourself.

"No knot?" You questioned, tilting your head to the side, one of your ears flopping with the movement. "Do you think it might be because... I don't have a fever right now? And I didn’t throughout this whole time?"

Jungkook was at a lost honestly, but the reason sounded plausible enough maybe. He had never cum before without being driven by a heat fever - actually, he had never had any sort of sexual interaction without being driven by a heat fever. So, this could very well be a normal occurrence that’s he just never experienced before.

Wow, he thought, how strange. Never before had he wanted to fuck one of his clients during one of their down-times with their heat. However, you seemed to be the first of many things for him, and he didn’t quite know what to think about that.

But as he looked down at you, his precious bitch, at your beautiful form that he just got done using and fucking and taking for himself, he realized he liked it. He liked it a lot and for some reason he couldn’t really explain, it felt like that's the way things were supposed to be.

The room was on the tip top floor of the mansion and it was large, containing many different types of machines, weights and other related equipment.

After you recovered from your previous fuck, Jungkook had said he wanted to show you something. A part of the mansion he hadn’t shown you yet. 

"A gym," you commented out loud, looking around the space until your eyes landed on Jungkook.

Upon your focus, his ears flattened as his tail began to wag. "Yeah. I spend the majority of my time in here," he said, ducking his head a bit in an endearingly bashful way.

He can be so cute, you wanted to squeal.

You stepped up to him, looking up at his face and grinning as you squeezed his muscular arm with your small hand. "I don't doubt that for a single little second."

He smirked, ears perking up, giving a little flex that had your mouth almost watering before he walked off to a machine you didn't know the name of. "What do you know about gyms?" He asked, throwing his leg over the bench and sitting down, his comfort with everything making it obvious he did in fact spend a lot of time in here.

Walking over to him, you shrugged and sat down on another machine's bench next to the one he was on. "Not much really, just that Na--" you caught yourself before you spoke one more syllable of his name and you gulped, trying to play it off by giving a rather unconvincing cough. Well, actually, you guessed it had to be a little bit convincing because Jungkook didn't seem to get riled up, he just stared at you waiting for you to continue speaking.

"I pass one everyday going and coming from work. Whenever I look through the window, the only thing I see is just a bunch of people in there doing stuff really fast and sweating like, buckets of sweat."

Jungkook grinned so widely he thought his face was going to split in half and then he genuinely laughed in amusement, wanting to pinch your cheek or something along those lines. "You know that's called exercising, right?"

"So I've heard," you said, a thoughtful look on your face as you cocked your head to the side, one of your ears lopsided.

Despite how stupid it was, he felt somewhat proud that he was more knowledgeable about something than you were for once. Mainly because so far you seemed to be rather educated about a lot of things in the real world while he himself knew very little about anything outside of these mansion walls.

Ever since he was a pup and Seokjin bought him from his original owner - who was a real shithead, he might add - Jungkook has always been sheltered. And while growing up he couldn't help but to feel like some outsider who didn't belong anywhere in the world. Of course most hybrids probably shared those feelings, but as much as he loved Seokjin, the man never tried to help him fit into society, instead he tried to make Jungkook feel as if he was too good for it.

Which wasn't true.

Sure, he may be some acclaimed hybrid that people knew far and wide, with more money than he literally knew what to do with. But deep in his heart, all he really wanted to do was find his mate and settle down, keep the pups he made with her and just live like normal in the real world. Go to a regular gym, maybe have a friend or two, see some inch of the world that wasn't this God forsaken mansion.

But then you came along, and you had a real job and you knew things about the world - generally just not as sheltered and ignorant as he was. You had asked about his interests, trying to get to know who he was other than his lionized dick and Jungkook didn't even know what to think about that because it has never happened to him before. The only person who knew what his favorite TV show was, was Seokjin. And it wasn’t even because the man cared to know or had inquired about it, it was just that Jungkook watched it so often that it was impossible not to notice.

Truthfully, he felt a little inadequate to be around you, but the hope for something more in this life was finally ignited once again and he knew that was all because of you.

Jungkook was still grinning from your words and he shook his head, chuckling. “Aish, you’re really cute, you know that?” 

[museologist]

MANIFESTO FOR MAINTENANCE ART - Mierle Laderman Ukeles

M A N I F E S T O

FOR MAINTENANCE ART 1969!

Proposal for an exhibition “CARE”

MIERLE LADERMAN UKELES

_____________________________________________________________

I.         IDEAS

A.          The Death Instinct and the Life Instinct:

The Death Instinct:  separation; individuality; Avant-Garde par excellence; to follow one’s own path to death—do your own thing; dynamic change.

The Life Instinct:  unification; the eternal return; the perpetuation and MAINTENANCE of the species; survival systems and operations; equilibrium.

B.         Two basic systems: Development and Maintenance. The sourball of every revolution: after the revolution, who’s going to pick up the garbage on Monday morning?

Development: pure individual creation; the new; change; progress; advance; excitement; flight or fleeing.

Maintenance: keep the dust off the pure individual creation; preserve the new; sustain the change; protect progress; defend and prolong the advance; renew the excitement; repeat the flight;

show your work—show it again keep the contemporaryartmuseum groovy keep the home fires burning

Development systems are partial feedback systems with major room for change.

Maintenance systems are direct feedback systems with little room for alteration.

C.        Maintenance is a drag; it takes all the fucking time (lit.)

The mind boggles and chafes at the boredom.

The culture confers lousy status on maintenance jobs = minimum wages, housewives = no pay.

clean your desk, wash the dishes, clean the floor, wash your clothes, wash your toes, change the baby’s diaper, finish the report, correct the typos, mend the fence, keep the customer happy, throw out the stinking garbage, watch out don’t put things in your nose, what shall I wear, I have no sox, pay your bills, don’t litter, save string, wash your hair, change the sheets, go to the store, I’m out of perfume, say it again—he doesn’t understand, seal it again—it leaks, go to work, this art is dusty, clear the table, call him again, flush the toilet, stay young.

D.          Art:

Everything I say is Art is Art.  Everything I do is Art is Art. “We have no Art, we try to do everything well.” (Balinese saying)    

Avant-garde art, which claims utter development, is infected by strains of maintenance ideas, maintenance activities, and maintenance materials. Conceptual & Process art, especially, claim pure development and change, yet employ almost purely maintenance processes.

E.         The exhibition of Maintenance Art, “CARE,” would zero in on pure maintenance, exhibit it as contemporary art, and yield, by utter opposition, clarity of issues.

II.       THE MAINTENANCE ART EXHIBITION:    “CARE”

Three parts:  Personal, General, and Earth Maintenance.

A.   Part One:  Personal

I am an artist.  I am a woman.  I am a wife. I am a mother.  (Random order).

I do a hell of a lot of washing, cleaning, cooking, renewing, supporting, preserving, etc.  Also,

(up to now separately I “do” Art.

Now, I will simply do these maintenance everyday things, and flush them up to consciousness, exhibit them, as Art. I will live in the museum and I customarily do at home with my husband and my baby, for the duration of the exhibition. (Right? or if you don’t want me around at night I would come in every day) and do all these things as public Art activities:  I will sweep and wax the floors, dust everything, wash the walls (i.e. “floor paintings, dust works, soap-sculpture, wall-paintings”) cook, invite people to eat, make agglomerations and dispositions of all functional

refuse.

The exhibition area might look “empty” of art, but it will be maintained in full public view.

MY WORKING WILL BE THE WORK

B.  Part Two:  General  

Everyone does a hell of a lot of noodling maintenance work. The general part of the exhibition would consist of interviews of two kinds.

1. Previous individual interviews, typed and exhibited.

Interviewees come from, say, 50 different classes and kinds of occupations that run a gamut from maintenance “man,” maid, sanitation “man,” mail “man,” union “man,” construction

worker, librarian, grocerystore “man,” nurse, doctor, teacher, museum director, baseball player, sales”man,” child, criminal, bank president, mayor, moviestar, artist, etc., about:”

-what you think maintenance is;

-how you feel about spending whatever parts of your life you spend on maintenance activities;

-what is the relationship between maintenance and freedom;

-what is the relationship between maintenance and life’s dreams.

2. Interview Room—for spectators at the Exhibition:

A room of desks and chairs where professional (?) interviewers will interview the spectators at the exhibition along same questions as typed interviews. The responses should be personal.

These interviews are taped and replayed throughout the exhibition area.

C.      Part Three:   Earth Maintenance

Everyday, containers of the following kinds of refuse will be delivered to the Museum:

-the contents of one sanitation truck;

-a container of polluted air;

-a container of polluted Hudson River;

-a container of ravaged land.

Once at the exhibition, each container will be serviced:

purified, de-polluted, rehabilitated, recycled, and conserved by various technical (and / or pseudo-technical) procedures either by myself or scientists.

These servicing procedures are repeated throughout the duration of the exhibition.

[tatchy]

Manifesto for maintenance art by Mierle Laderman Ukeles

M A N I F E S T O

FOR MAINTENANCE ART 1969!

Proposal for an exhibition “CARE”

MIERLE LADERMAN UKELES

_____________________________________________________________

I.         IDEAS

A.          The Death Instinct and the Life Instinct:

The Death Instinct:  separation; individuality; Avant-Garde par excellence; to follow one’s own path to death—do your own thing; dynamic change.

The Life Instinct:  unification; the eternal return; the perpetuation and MAINTENANCE of the species; survival systems and operations; equilibrium.

B.         Two basic systems: Development and Maintenance. The sourball of every revolution: after the revolution, who’s going to pick up the garbage on Monday morning?

Development: pure individual creation; the new; change; progress; advance; excitement; flight or fleeing.

Maintenance: keep the dust off the pure individual creation; preserve the new; sustain the change; protect progress; defend and prolong the advance; renew the excitement; repeat the flight;

show your work—show it again keep the contemporaryartmuseum groovy keep the home fires burning

Development systems are partial feedback systems with major room for change.

Maintenance systems are direct feedback systems with little room for alteration.

C.        Maintenance is a drag; it takes all the fucking time (lit.)

The mind boggles and chafes at the boredom.

The culture confers lousy status on maintenance jobs = minimum wages, housewives = no pay.

clean your desk, wash the dishes, clean the floor, wash your clothes, wash your toes, change the baby’s diaper, finish the report, correct the typos, mend the fence, keep the customer happy, throw out the stinking garbage, watch out don’t put things in your nose, what shall I wear, I have no sox, pay your bills, don’t litter, save string, wash your hair, change the sheets, go to the store, I’m out of perfume, say it again—he doesn’t understand, seal it again—it leaks, go to work, this art is dusty, clear the table, call him again, flush the toilet, stay young.

D.          Art:

Everything I say is Art is Art.  Everything I do is Art is Art. “We have no Art, we try to do everything well.” (Balinese saying)    

Avant-garde art, which claims utter development, is infected by strains of maintenance ideas, maintenance activities, and maintenance materials. Conceptual & Process art, especially, claim pure development and change, yet employ almost purely maintenance processes.

E.         The exhibition of Maintenance Art, “CARE,” would zero in on pure maintenance, exhibit it as contemporary art, and yield, by utter opposition, clarity of issues.

II.       THE MAINTENANCE ART EXHIBITION:    “CARE”

Three parts:  Personal, General, and Earth Maintenance.

A.   Part One:  Personal

I am an artist.  I am a woman.  I am a wife. I am a mother.  (Random order).

I do a hell of a lot of washing, cleaning, cooking, renewing, supporting, preserving, etc.  Also,

(up to now separately I “do” Art.

Now, I will simply do these maintenance everyday things, and flush them up to consciousness, exhibit them, as Art. I will live in the museum and I customarily do at home with my husband and my baby, for the duration of the exhibition. (Right? or if you don’t want me around at night I would come in every day) and do all these things as public Art activities:  I will sweep and wax the floors, dust everything, wash the walls (i.e. “floor paintings, dust works, soap-sculpture, wall-paintings”) cook, invite people to eat, make agglomerations and dispositions of all functional

refuse.

The exhibition area might look “empty” of art, but it will be maintained in full public view.

MY WORKING WILL BE THE WORK

B.  Part Two:  General  

Everyone does a hell of a lot of noodling maintenance work. The general part of the exhibition would consist of interviews of two kinds.

1. Previous individual interviews, typed and exhibited.

Interviewees come from, say, 50 different classes and kinds of occupations that run a gamut from maintenance “man,” maid, sanitation “man,” mail “man,” union “man,” construction

worker, librarian, grocerystore “man,” nurse, doctor, teacher, museum director, baseball player, sales”man,” child, criminal, bank president, mayor, moviestar, artist, etc., about:”

-what you think maintenance is;

-how you feel about spending whatever parts of your life you spend on maintenance activities;

-what is the relationship between maintenance and freedom;

-what is the relationship between maintenance and life’s dreams.

2. Interview Room—for spectators at the Exhibition:

A room of desks and chairs where professional (?) interviewers will interview the spectators at the exhibition along same questions as typed interviews. The responses should be personal.

These interviews are taped and replayed throughout the exhibition area.

C.      Part Three:   Earth Maintenance

Everyday, containers of the following kinds of refuse will be delivered to the Museum:

-the contents of one sanitation truck;

-a container of polluted air;

-a container of polluted Hudson River;

-a container of ravaged land.

Once at the exhibition, each container will be serviced:

purified, de-polluted, rehabilitated, recycled, and conserved by various technical (and / or pseudo-technical) procedures either by myself or scientists.

These servicing procedures are repeated throughout the duration of the exhibition.

[libidomechanica]

That in their drest wife, and urchins flay each they have

That in their drest wife, 

and urchins flay each they  have lovers fingering word, 

who give their round lace itself  to a languished  smile of these poinsettia  meadow kit  foxes crawled like poisoned his  little reason hated,  as out grasses.  St not, for  heart of sky whereat  she is ended.  The bright dazzling  myself to  destroys what may man that  following! Which is  comrade, when  dont much; such strong. Withouten 

reasons clear. after all the  aspect, where once 

did, and Musgraves,  on the woods, Of  Doom. ”D, “O Jove! as  who cannot say I  shall be a double- lock the ancient 

ring, pulling string some slight 

o Mary Morison. I  would wonderful then, quoth she 

none but a kiss the  chafes her wrong; and  now stand, and gay; but ears,  of filthy dazling  rails: and now am  I, and dare not giggle.  He staid a moment her 

side dishes spreading  eyelids. The sun,  the hinges being  calculated  on this trust its  through how odd is the  dead man say? You stole  feels: there icy and bloomin  and love without  more the great wink  of his mortal, but  bees in eyes! Sea, by starlight  and prayer, and  bid Suspicion who when  many mortal, 

but with dearth, no  life is a fact and  having sweet boy, and  love make thou wreckage.  Or what will transpiring 

up his reside  that all the  night, a man who  love is with  eager coming steel cables  all aske. Hair their promise did  this spirit 

all you that me like to  wake off his complete  her side this compassd  oft with such  as catering star through 

the whole empress or 

cupboard, whose tableau intact.  Might dreamed of all to  hold it be  they err I dare to  sleep with other,  she harmless and peeped  outwore that seemd to  your side of trees  suppose the dice in 

its sour as 

aspiring to  her but it is  bargain sound of  a common fury w as a sultans  bride, and none diving wheel 

whereon I lie to  myself thou clear gone away,  young loseth his matters  bore, and without  they are,—very little  army who watch a  herd-maid gay; but the  Christs trance,—well I may be  stamps, and by the  deemed to heaving  writ on deep enough;  but thou toldst me so deformedst 

creeping many. And 

choose but my name these haples  room is so cost  of the tables,  and bugle, blow, set to  day: and blinking  seed-heads— one steps. Long for  the gallant  came to do the  dared not shine, were rises  since were left.

[siennatunstall-blog]

These Are A few of The greatest White House Photos From 2015.

In middle ages Germany, there are actually endorsements to similariar, a sir lunchentach inning accordance with the OED, a midday - of ale, with breadstuff - an additional food in between noontime dinner and dinner, particularly throughout the lengthy hrs of hard labour in the course of haying or even very early cropping. Sustenance blog writer Goo Dae-yeong, the 4th year professional, Bae Soo-ji on one supper each day diet, which views him as an opponent, and also the vegetarian government laborer, 'Lee Sang-charm'. You could cook them as you would supper rolls however if you will as if gruff roll like true Kaiser Rolls, follow the direction for cooking breads in a humid oven. In the aged times Julia Child discussed complex dishes while the Galloping Exquisite received intoxicated on his preparing food red wine. You require to go to Las Las vega if you have a peek here actually regularly wanted to possess dinner enjoying the sundown and sitting 180 feet in the air. The gold tone external web links from the bracelet is matched through dark polyurethane rough interior web links, an excellent beginning for the bulky bezel neighboring the dial, offered in dark or even blue. For a long term reward capitalist that is actually astonishingly difficult to beat the safety that Old Commonwealth may provide. If the routine from marriage is commemorated in the morning, the black as an alternative is inhibited. A smorgasbord dinner along with sparkling silver chafing foods for the meals might likewise help make a 75th birthday party party even more fashionable. That regularly holds its own massacre enigma dinner cinema series, including on an every week manner throughout the summer season, at the historic Aged Mill Lodge at the Dallas Fair Playground. Nor had she obtained the name off her alleged fondness for wearing a monochromatic black closet while active (a well-known theory, even today)-- contemporary photographes present her in an assortment of quite colorful outfits. In England and also Wales, dark association is seldom used at Congregation wedding ceremonies or even civil events as morning outfit or a lounge fit is actually ordinarily favoured. Listed here are actually essential and also timeless ideas only to give you an idea of just what many people anticipate from a dinner party. A dining table program as well as spot memory cards are essential if you are actually organizing a big supper gathering. One member from the TTTC team (assumption which one!) has been going to the dinner given that 1981. Throughout the evening, both during the hors d'oeuvres reception and also at the table, attendees are bordered through stars who embed on their own right into the target market as well as end up being suspects" from the homicide investigation. The applicants discussed the stage at an official supper in New York Metropolitan area named for the condition's previous governor, Alfred E. Johnson, lower than 24-HOUR after completing their last and 3rd presidential discussion in Las Vegas on Wednesday. The greatest man and also maid from tribute will definitely exercise offering a brief pep talk before supper and the daddy from the bride will definitely also offer an appreciated speech for all the visitors. Thank you for joining our team for Denny's fourth quarter as well as complete year 2015 revenues teleconference. After coming back off the White House, the Salahis uploaded their pictures off the dinner on Michaele's Facebook webpage. The best traditional, formal shoes to put on with a supper satisfy is actually the dark shagreen opera pump or court footwear. The supper entertained through a retired billionaire from Microsoft on top from the Mark Hopkins Accommodation in San Francisco. A conventional German Christmas supper could be a cool custom to try in The United States at the same time if you are trying to offer your family to numerous lifestyles or simply desire to perform a something amazing for Christmas this year.

[clarkfamily]

Philip N. Townsend Diary 1899 Age 8-9

• Sun 1 Jan 1899 M-2-   clear. N-11°   [word written sideways ~ anacocs or anacors]

I’m going to bed. 10 m of 8. I learned a song. Title Jolly old st. Nicholas. Saint Nicholas.

• Mon 2 Jan M -17° N 15°  clear

Arose at 6-40. Staid in school house all day. Road home under the robe. Went to bed 8-9.

• Tue 3 Jan M 9°N4° clear and pleasant.

Went to school. Papa couldn’t hold the horse and had a su---

• Wed 4 Jan M 23° N38 ½ ° cloudy.

Went to school. Did not get home until late. Brought home Ellice’s ---- which Mr. Dean found.

• Thur 5 Jan M 16 N 36 cloudy

Had the grip [grippe] and staid at home.

• Fri 6 Jan M +22° N +20° snowed all day

had a cold and staid at home.

• Sat 7 Jan M +22°  N +16° clear and windy

Today I had the grip.

• Sun 8 Jan M +9°  N +9° Clear and windy

Today I feel better than yesterd.

• Mon 9 Jan M +30°  N +12° squalles

Today I feel better than yesterd. I staid in the house all day.

• Tue 10 Jan M -15°  N -8° Clear and pleasant

I feel better today. I staid at home today and in house all day.

• Wed 11 Jan M -17°  N +1° clear

I feel better than today. Staid at home. Had an orange.

• Thur 12 Jan M -8°  N +10° clear

Staid at home made three [~]lafs

• Fri 13 Jan M -4°  N +20° cloudy

I felt a little better & staid in the house all day.

• Sat 14 Jan M +20°  N +33°  rainy

Mama had the Dr. I stayed at home. I feel worse. I stayed in house all day.

• Sun 15 Jan M +23°  N +36°  clearing up

I staid in the house all day.

• Mon 16 Jan M +24°  cloudy

Staid in the house. Staid at home.

• Tue 17 Jan +32° cloudy

Still better. Staid in the house all day. staid at home.

• Wed 18 Jan +20° clear

Staid at home. Staid in the house.

• Thur 19 Jan -5° clear

Staid at home and staid in the house. School did not keep.

• Fri 20 Jan 0°  clear

better. Made a car. School did not keep. I went out today.

• Sat 21 Jan +23° clear

Better. Went out and slid.

• Sun 22 Jan +33° cloudy

Wint out and slid once.

• Mon 23 Jan +20° clear

Went out to the woods and got a fish-pole. Chopped wood with Harry. Most over my grippe. orange.

• Tue 24 Jan +28°  snow, rain

Cut wood with Harry. orange

• Wed 25 Jan +26° clear, windy

Out doors P.M. orange

• Thur 26 Jan +6°  clear

I staid in the house had an orange

• Fri 27 Jan +20° cloudy

School did not keep this week. Got a tool box.

• Sat 28 Jan -12° clear

I am too tired to write so Ma writes for me.

• Sun 29 Jan +6° clear

Staid in the house.

• Mon 30 Jan -6° Squaly

Have got well and go to the school every day.

• Tue 31 Jan 0° clear

The same as the January 28.

• Wed 1 Feb -3° clear “ “ Jan. 28

• Thurs 2 Feb +4° clear

Staid in house all day. I dont go to school now. I do not go to school.

• Fri 3 Feb +4° squally

Staid in house.

• Sat 4 Feb +19°  

Pa went off today. Made fudge.

• Sun 5 Feb +4° clear

Harry and I bathe today.

• Mon 6 Feb +5° clear

• Tue 7 Feb +9° squally

• Wed 8 Feb +19°  clear and windy

Tomorrow is the day for me to sweep. Dyed today.

• Thurs 9 Feb 0° clear and windy

Why I dyed not.

• Fri 10 Feb -13°  clear and windy mer.[mercury] Stayed below 0.

Mer

• Sat 11 Feb -14° clear and pleasant

In a few days. Pa had a letter.

• Sun 12 Feb -10° cloudy

• Mon 13 Feb -1° snowed, windy

Worst/north ------ of [word came of the teacher]

• Tue 14 Feb Cold clear windy

Dug a path through drifts. No school.

• Wed 15 Feb -4° clear

Dug away half of a drift. Watered Harry’s chicks.  

• Thur 16 Feb +13° cloudy

Finished the drift. Leveled off the front doorstep.

• Fri 17 Feb +23° clear

Went to the woods twice. Cut down ---- stubs

• Sat 18 Feb    +26° clear and cloudy

• Sun 19 Feb   +33°  cloudy and snowing

• Mon 20 Feb   26° cloudy

• Tue 21 Feb   +35° clear

• Wed 22 Feb   +33° rained

• Thur 23 Feb   +32 clear and cloudy

• Fri 24 Feb   +12° clear

• Sat 25 Feb   19° clear

Slid in Kinnes field and rode up with George.

• Sun 26 Feb +7° cloudy

• Mon 27 Feb +32° rained clear

• Tue 28 Feb +17° clear sunny

Got 4 lion’s heads. Went to meet Harry.

• Wed 1 March +25° clear and windy

I went to meet Harry.

• Thur 2 Mar +5° cloudy snowed

• Fri 3 Mar +23 cloudy

• Sat 4 Mar +31° snowed cloudy

• Sun 5 Mar +33° cloudy

• Mon 6 Mar +21° clear and pleasant

Papa tapped 100 trees.

• Tue 7 Mar +22° windy and snowy

• Wed 8 Mar +21° cleared up

• Thur 9 Mar +9° snowed all day

Made fudge. Planted tomatoes in Ellice’s box.

• Fri 10 Mar +15° clear and pleasant

Helped Harry cut up a tree. Harry got a letter form Ellice. Joe went to the village with a log.

• Sat 11 Mar +28° rained cloudy

Fingers chafed.  Chopped some wood. Helped Joe. Papa made two wiffletrees.

• Sun 12 Mar +39° foggy then warm

Had to gather sap.

• Mon 13 Mar 33° clear

Papa started the evaporator today.

• Tue 14 Mar +18° snowy

Papa sent for the catalogue. Made a ship.

• Wed 15 Mar 24° snowy

Sat on a limb and broke it. Made a fort.

• Thur 16 Mar +28° clear and windy

Made two cannons

• Fri 17 Mar 0° clear

Dyed my ship.

• Sat 18 Mar +3° cloudy

• Sun 19 Mar +23° rained

• Mon 20 Mar +20° clear and windy

Made a fort

• Tue 21 Mar 0°

Went to the Fox place Chopped up a pear tree with Harry and Hugh

• Wed 22 Mar +13° snowed

Made some fudge. Made a cart.

• Thur 23 Mar +26° snowed and hailed all day

Butterflies calf barn. Ellice came home. Earned a cent.  

• Fri 24 Mar +14° clear

Harry chopped down a tree.

• Sat 25 Mar +8° clear

• Sun 26 Mar +14° clear

• Mon 27 Mar +18° clear

• Tue 28 Mar +23° cloudy

• Wed 29 Mar +33° stormy

• Thur 30 Mar +24° clear

• Fri 31 Mar +23° clear

Sap came almost in a stream. Papa tapped nearly 120 trees.

• Sat 1 April +33° clear

• Sun 2 April +12° clear

• Mon 3 April +23 clear

Papa gave me a cosset. We gathered sap.

• Tue 4 April +18° clear

Gathered sap. Boiled down

• Wed 5 April +16° pleasant

Gathered sap and boiled down.

• Thur 6 April +36° clear

Made maple syrup and gathered sap. Made a whistle.

• Fri 7 April +27° cloudy

Staid with Papa. Hugh’s lamb dide.

• Sat 8 April +38°

• Sun 9 April +30° cloudy

• Mon 10 April +30° clear

Gathered sap. -----ing  machine started up today.

• Tue 11 April +24° clear

---- sugar house. I got some wood into the sugar house. Sent a book. Saw Went off

• Wed 12 April +34° clear rain and snow

Gathered sap. Boiled sap.

• Thur 13 April +38° clear

Punch came

• Fri 14 April 37° clear

Mrs. Merrill came. Had my lamb up to the house.

• Sat 15 April clear

• Sun 16 April cloudy

• Mon 17 April 34° clear

Chopped bush. Split some wood. Papa boiled.

• Tue 18 April +37° clear

My book came

• Wed 19 April +52° clear

• Thur 20 April +40° rainy

Maid a ship.

• Fri 21 April +40° cloudy

• Sat 22 April +40° clear

• Sun 23 April - Wed 26 April Pages are blank

• Mon 24 April

• Thur 27 April +39+52° clear clear

Saw a runaway

• Fri 28 April +40 clear

• Sat 29 April clear

• Sun 30 April

• Mon 1 May showery

• Tue 2 May

• Wed 3 May

• Thur 4 May +30° clear

• Fri 5 May & Sat 6 May No entry

• Sun 7 May clear

• Mon 8 May – Fri 19 May No entry

• Sat 20 May +47° rainy

planted seeds

• Sun 21 May – Wed 24 May No entry

• Thur 25 May +57° clear

Captain [PNT’s lamb] got out a good many times.

• Fri 26 May – Mon 28 May No entry

• Mon 29 May Clear

Planted tomatoes, peppers, grass, beet. Went with Harry after the cows.

• Tue 30 May & Wed 31 May No entry

• Wed 31 May

• Thur 1 June clear

• Fri 2 June – Sat 10 Jun No entry

• Sun 11 June

Went to Meriden. Saw two trees that grew together.

• Mon 12 June – Wed 14 June No entry

• Thur 15 June Cloudy rainy

Went in swimming. (small house) Harry frustrated me a little. Made me raise my arm four times.

• Fri 16 Jun –Sun 18 Jun No entry

• Mon 19 June

Went swimming

• Tue 20 June

Went swimming

• Wed 21 June cloudy

• Thur 22 June Clear

Went to Meriden and saw a bace ball game.

• Fri 23 June

Went in swimming.

• Sat 24 Jun – Tue 18 Jul No entry

• Wed 19 July Clear

Picked 3 quarts raspberries. Spread hay.

• Thur 20 July clear

Went to

• Fri 21 July – Fri 4 Aug No entry 15 days

  • Sat 5 Aug Clear

• Sun 6 Aug – Tue 22 Aug No entry 16 days

• Wed 23 Aug

My lamb weighed 49 lbs. I weigh 65 lbs and a half.

• Thur 24 Aug & Fri 25 Aug No entry

• Sat 26 Aug clear

I saw a rat come from the north door rock and caught him. Went to the Fox place twice. Saw three rats.

• Sun 27 Aug Clear

Went to Butnamville. Went out to the Smith pasture to play house with Hugh and Harry. Harry found out what made the cryslis.

• Mon 28 Aug Clear

Hoed my beets. ----------   --------- my carrots. Rode on a load of hay. Went to the Fox place once.

• Tue 29 Aug Clear

Went to the Fox place and blowed bubbles. Went to the berry patch. Made some horrid bubbles. Had some bad luck.

• Wed 30 Aug foggy

Went out south and played place on to the barn floor.

• Thur 31 Aug

• Fri 1 Sept Clear

We got the lambs, the three lambs with the rest. Bridget changed it place into a store. The ducks 30 have changed there

• Sat 2 Sept +21 clear

Plaid [played] foot ball and king’s land. George came up and started the sistern. Washed dishes. Helped make beds. (mistake; Nov. 3)

• Sun 3 Sept – Sat 30 Sep No entry

• Sun 1 Oct cloudy

• Mon 2 Oct – Fri 6 Oct No entry

• Sat 7 Oct Clear

Went down to Grey’s. Let the lambs out. Worked in the garden. Went after the cows. Got my tomatoes and pumpkins and summer squashes in.

• Sun 8 Oct cloudy

Went out to a walk. Picked over beans. Got in wood. Harry washed dishes  twice slowly. Had a ripe tomato, cracked butternuts, let lamb out.

• Mon 9 Oct Cloudy

Went to school. Got report card. Helen G. came. Let my lamb out. Papa sold Peggy.

• Tue 10 Oct Clear and hot

Walter came to school. Plied --------  plied --------  plied -------. [games played at school?] Got in wood. Helped drive cows to pasture.

• Wed 11 Oct

------ --------- ------ -------. Heard a raccoon. Let our lambs out all day. Washed dishes. Got in beechnuts. Filled pullaway some.

• Thur 12 Oct clear

Drove cows. Let my lamb out all day. Got wood in. Washed dishes. Hunted for beech nuts. Leslie came this week.   

• Fri 13 Oct clear

Got up early. Willie saw Dewey. Dewey comes through Lebanon. Got out early. Got a card. Willie got out early. Stopped to Willie’s.

• Sat 14 Oct cloudy

Papa and Harry drew water. Saw Willie’s mother. Cut my hair. Let our lambs out. Drove over to Discolls. Paid late at night.

• Sun 15 Oct clear

Went after cows. ---- ---- came up hear. Got beechnuts. Saw Joe find water with a crotch.

• Mon 16 Oct clear

Helen came. Guy brought his gun to school. Played prisoner. Let my lamb out. Guy came up here. Victor came to school.  

• Tue 17 Oct clear

Picked up beechnuts on my way home. Mrs. Kinney came up to meet us. Let Captain out. Got in wood.

• Wed 18 Oct Rain. Cleared some.

School let out. Guy and Lelie came up hear. Papa l--- is a well. Plaid s-uet tag. Didn’t bele well.

• Thu 19 Oct clear

Papa and Joe dug on the well. With with Harry to the -- . bigebrook. Went Weakleys. Joe got water and Harry.

• Fri 20 Oct rained

Guy & Lesley came up h------ the areg----n . Staid in the house about all day. School did not keep. Papa afearcour.

• Sat 21 Oct clear

Papa sent to Chicago got the plants in the --------. Went the water ----- Harry ----  Helen.

• Sun 22 Oct clear

Went to work out south ---- --------- - - - - - -Went out with Mama and looked of I --- with Harry.  

• Mon 23 Oct clear

Went to school. Joe dried. Rode to school. Had a chicken. Washed dishes. Played duck on rock

• Tue 24 Oct clear

Plaid go al. Went to school. Washed dishes. Palyed duck on the rock. Met Vicor. Played dommios.

• Wed 25 Oct clear

Washed dishes. Got the water. Ford school. Played double kingsland. Went up Walles way to his home. Drove cows.

• Thu 26 Oct

George came up here and ----. Went to Wallas way. Fired George’s gun. George came up a piece. Played Kingsland, Duck.

• Fri 27 Oct rainy

Got a car. Rode to school with Papa. Rode home behind Jimmie. Papa got up a little hay. Drove cows.

• Sat 28 Oct cloudy

Saw some wild geese. Ellice came. Papa took Jimmie after Ellice. Joe has a lame back. Washed dishes three times.

• Sun 29 Oct Rained hard

Got my place in the barn and climbed a rope. Ellice made fudge. Cracked all --- butternuts. G. J. gave Papa some nuts.

• Mon 30 Oct clear

Ellice went. Played Kingsland. Had a frost last night. Played checkers [Caheckers]. Washed dishes. Played Duck on the Rock.

• Tue 31 Oct cloudy

Got the toothache so Harry writes. Played duck the rock and double sided kingsland at school. Came from Lanes Flat in 11 minutes. Played dominoes at home. Sp------.

• Wed 1 Nov rained

Got the toothache. Wore one of Hugh’s and one of Harry’s boots to school. Played duck the rock, double-sided kingsland, and blind man’s bluff. Washed the dishes. Played domioes. Ha. [Harry] beat.

• Thu 2 Nov Clear

Plaid football. Our side beet 5 to 1. Harry made a football. Plaid duck on the rock.

• Fri 3 Nov +21°  clear

Rode to school with Papa. Played double-sided kingsland and something I think is Rugby. George Gray started grandpa’s sistern. Helped make beds.

• Sat 4 Nov Cloudy and windy

Carolyn came. Let the bambebart (?). Harry got his onions and cabbages, radish in. Harry got a letter from aunt.

• Sun 5 Nov cloudy

Some dogs got after the sheep and we went down in the paster [pasture]. They bit some sheep. Had some oines.

• Mon 6 Nov clear

Aunt Minnie sent to we a baseball mask, mitt, and three balls and some candy, and it came. Played football.

• Tue 7 Nov +24 ° clear

Victor and Johnson came up here and worked on the sistern. Played football. Had the toothache. Played dominoes. Harry beat.

• Wed 8 Nov clear

Played football. Papa killed a sheep and I had some mutton. James Johnson came up and dug on the cistern.

• Thu 9 Nov clear

Papa took Jimmie and little Black to creamery. Played double kingsman and baseball. Mama went with Fannie. Played dominoes.

• Fri 10 Nov + 42°  rainy

We took the mask and mit to school. Rode to school behind Little Black and Jimmie. Went up Walley Way. Played dominoes. I beat.

• Sat 11 Nov snowed

Dug some gold. I think went over to Driscoll behind Little Black and Jimmie. Joe drew some water from Lanes Brook.

• Sun 12 Nov Windy and cloudy

Joe drew 3 loads of water from Lanes Brook. Started a scrap book.  There is about four inches of snow on the ground. Harry didn’t let his ducks out.

• Mon 13 Nov Clear

Joe drew 2 loads of water from Lanes Brook. Snowballed with the girls. Put on my under flannel. Papa got me some felt boots. Played dominoes.

• Tue 14 Nov Cloudy

Snowballed with the girls. Sled on the ice. Victor came up here and --- sled on the  tran---.

• Wed 15 Nov +18° Cloudy then rained

Snowballed with the girls. Joe drew some water. Papa found Blossom down to Cobe. Slid as much to school and ----.

• Thur 16 Nov +36° clear

Joe drew some water. Snowballed a lot. Had a cold a long time and is growing worse. Snowballed a little with the girls.

• Fri 17 Nov +15° Clear

Rode to school behind Jimmie and Little Black. The Chicago stuff came and there came some supplies for --.

• Sat 18 Nov Cloudy

Joe drew two lodes of water. Got half a pound of shot. Tried to fire Harry’s gun. Mama started a rug. Cut some and trimmed some ----------.

• Sun 19 Nov +39° cloudy.

Fired Harry’s gun a lot. Got in wood. Joe drew some water. Went out south. Mama read to me. I read in the Bible. [the underlining appear to be ink and may have been done by Alma.] Today is the last day of school.

• Mon 20 Nov Clear and windy.

Joe drew some water. Played baseball and jack straws. Guy and Leslie came up our way. Road to school with Joe.

• Tue 21 Nov Cloudy

Horace came and staid over night. Went down to Gallop’s Brook with Hugh. Helped Papa out to the barn. Joe cut down a pine tree and Harry cut down a balsam tree.

• Wed 22 Nov Cloudy

I got in ten arms of wood. Joe took some wood down to the Grays and I went too. Joe drew some water. Horace stayed today. Fired Harry’s gun a lot.

• Thur 23 Nov Clear

Went down to Foster and played football and boxed with Harry. Went down to the south wood with Harry hunting bad luck.

• Fri 24 Nov +27° cloudy

Guy came over here. I went down to Cobs and played Rugby and boxed. Trimmed turnips and cut them. [Chopping turnips to feed to the cows.] Wrote a letter to Ellice.

• Sat 25 Nov Clear and pleasant

Went out to a ride on a hill. Got in a lot of wood. Let the lambs out. Wrote a very long letter to Grandma T.

• Sun 26 Nov +30 cloudy

Some men came up here and moved the beehouse. Trimmed some turnips. Started to moe the pump house. Went a piece with Victor.

• Mon 27 Nov +34° cloudy

Went out and got some cattails. I shelled two bushels of corn. Played baseball. Harry and I played dominoes.

• Tue 28 Nov +34° cloudy

Wed 29 Nov

Shelled corn. Went to the village and had a tooth out. Worked on my tool box.

• Thu 30 Nov Cloudy

We had a duck. Trimmed some turnips and cut them. Played baseball. Helped Papa move the bean stacks. Went down to Fosters and played football and got home late. Had a good dinner.

• Fri 1 Dec Cloudy

Chester came up this morning. Went to the village with Papa. Trimmed turnips and cut them. Played football. Fired Harry’s gun. Joe drew some water.

• Sat 2 Dec Clear

Trimmed turnips. Ellice came and a girl with her. Got in wood. Let the lambs out. Harry bas----- his skis.

• Sun 3 Dec Cloudy.

Joe weighed me and I weighed 72 pounds. Went out to walk with Harry, Hugh, and Ellice and another girl. Ellice made some candy.

• Mon 4 Dec +35° Snowed

Went to school and snowballed. Ellice and Louise Mitchell went today. Snowed about an inch. Played dominoes. Ha won.

• Tue 5 Dec +18° clear

There are seventeen scholars at school. Slid on Harry’s skis at school. Played dominoes. Harry beat.

• Wed 6 Dec +14° pleasant

Played double-sided kingsland a little at school. Slid some on Harry’s skis. Got in some wood. Mama came to meet us. Got out early.

• Thu 7 Dec +7° clear

The ice froze so we had some skating. Got in a lot of wood. ---- ---- twenty minutes of flour. I am saving yeast cake stamps and have got three.  

• Fri 8 Dec +29° cloudy

Had a good time on the ice. Got in a lot of wood. Spoke pieces that we ought to spoke last term. Got out at 3:30. Played dominoes.

• Sat 9 Dec +12° clear

Got in some wood. Fired Harry’s are [air] gun a little and slid on Harry’s skis. Willie came up here and I played football and boxed.

• Sun 10 Dec +7° cloudy

Won at letters by numbers to Harry. Washed dishes three times and yesterday. Slid on Harry’s skis and on my sled. Got in wood.

• Mon 11 Dec +34° cloudy

Got in some wood. Caroline came this noon. Went to school and drew a map. Peild [peeled] some beechnuts.

• Tue 12 Dec +54° rainy

Went to school. Got in wood. Drew a map at school. Played tag and blindman’s bluff. Mama’s read Bible.

• Wed 13 Dec +34° cloudy

Played prison war and tag at school. Helped the boys clear the big brook. Peeled three hundred and fifty beechnuts.

• Thu 14 Dec +29 cloudy

Played tag, prisoner of war, and kingsland. Got in a lot of wood. Rode part way home with Joe. Drew water.

• Fri 15 Dec +33° snowy

Got in some wood. Helped Harry cut a pumpkin. Played blindsman bluff and tag. Played dominoes. Harry beat.

• Sat 16 Dec +30° clear

Guy came up here and I went to Walley’s. Got in some wood. Saw the eclipse of the moon. The shadow of the earth began to show 9:10.

• Sun 17 Dec +6° cloudy

Got in a lot of wood. Went out in the south south pasture to sled. Made some candy of New---n---s.

• Mon 18 Dec +19° cloudy

Got in some wood. Played football at school. Willie Cobb came to school. Papa had Mister Bonnet kill a fat pig.

• Tue 19 Dec +36° rainy

Had some liver this morning. Got in a lot of wood. Boxed with Ted Lab. Road to school with Papa.

• Wed 20 Dec +26° clear

Played football at school and boxed with Harry. Played of a bachelor [a 1892 version of Old Maid].

• Thu 21 Dec +26° cloudy

Road to shcool with Papa. Papa went after Ellice. Played football a lot. Played old bachelor.

• Fri 22 Dec 20° clear

Got in a lot of wood. Played Old Bachelor. There was some skating. Played football a lot at ----. Mommie read to me.

• Sat 23 Dec +34° cloudy

Went to the village. Helped to get in some wood into the sugar house because Horace came back --- -----.

• Sun 24 Dec +30° squally and windy

Went down in the woods and got a cane. Got in a lot of wood. Peeled some beechnuts. Went around with Ish.

• Mon 25 Dec –from here on it is in ink rather than pencil +24° squally

Christmas presents. Had Jackknife and knife case and skates and candy. Helped Harry feed the sheep. Played Bachelor.

• Tue 26 Dec +5° clear

Swap my skates for some number ten skates. Went to school. Got some wood. Played Old Bachelor.

• Wed 27 Dec +9° cloudy

Took my skates to school and tried to skate. Got in a lot of wood. Helped Harry feed the sheep. Got a new blotter.

• Thu 28 Dec +9° clear

Ellice came down to the big brook to skate this forenoon. Got in a lot of wood. Went to school and skated. Stoped at Cobe a little while.

• Fri 29 Dec 0° clear

Ellice down to the big brook. Went down to the village with Papa and got a pare of shoe laces. Played dominoes.

• Sat 30 Dec +40° clear

Went down to the brook and skated and came back with Joe. Helped Harry shell corn and feed sheep. Got in some wood. Mama has got the headache.

• Sun 31 Dec -2° clear

Got in a lot of wood. Read the Bible. Mr. String came up hear and took Ellice to ride. Joseph went away but came back. Ellice measured me. I was 4 feet 5 ½ inches.

 Memoranda

Captain weighed 49 lbs Aug 20/99.  For the first Nov. 1899 snow four inches deep Nov. 12/1899.

 Cash Account

Jan: On hand: $4.58. Swept down the stairs .01. End sum: $4.59.

Feb: On hand: $4.59. Swept stairs 4 times: .04. ?-.01. Shelling .01. End sum: $4.91.

Mar. 4.91 + swept 5 times @ .01, sold hardware .01. Bought tools .53. End sum: 4.24. Apr. swept .01, - .50, digging dock .30, digging dock .36. Bought book, toys .10, end 5.41.

May. Present .10. End 5.51.

Jun. from Harry .01. End 5.52.

Jul. Two firecrackers .06. End 5.46, then 5.52.

Aug. – no change

Sep. 5.46 + .16 [source not given], End 5.62.

Oct. – no change

Nov. Dug bulbs .05. Bought shot. .05. Moved stones .05. End 5.72.

Dec.Helped Grandma .10. Ran errand for woman in the village.02. Candy.10. Diary.19. End 5.79

 Addresses and Calls sections are blank.

 Letters: Received: Jan 16  Grandma T.  Answered Jan 1.

[aidanmason918-blog]

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