#peagreen

[arriettyspin]

Whenever I see people impatiently awaiting the next installment of their favourite franchise, I think about the Borrowers books and how Mary Norton originally ended her series with four books complete with a neat little bow that was the epilogue, confirming Arrietty's marriage to Spiller and their happy ever after, only to write a fifth book in the series a whooping twenty years after its original completion where ghosts are introduced into the world without explanation, a love triangle is forced between Arrietty, Spiller and new character Peagreen (who was made into her brother and his disability erased in the 1998 movie), the book ends on a cliffhanger with no resolution for any of the plotlines introduced; Arrietty's family STILL forbid her from mingling with humans and she chickens out on speaking with her friends from book 4 again, then Arrietty and Spiller fight over his refusal to interact with humans (which, given Spiller's backstory is entirely justified), Arrietty runs to Peagreen for comfort and the story ENDS, Mary Norton DIED before she could write the next book and conclude their story, if that's not bad enough, modern publications of book 4 omit the original epilogue so there's no clear satisfying ending, I think about this a lot

[severussnapemylove]

How am I just finding out that Peagreen Clock in “The Borrowers” was played by Tom Felton???

Look at him! He’s so smol!

[tigresslanzhu]

The Borrowers

Artica: Come on, Mr. Moon! It’s a great book, ergo, it’d make for a good stage adaptation! We could use all sorts of puppetry and tricks of the eye, there’s a sweet family moral, it may motivate our audience to read the books…

Johnny: And somebody sneezes in it.

Artica: Johnny, what did I tell you about grassing up?

Johnny: Hey, my primary school teacher made me read the source material! I’m not going to lie about it, especially if you’re going to make him read it anyway.

Buster: Artica, this is why I want to write more original shows…

[lunastar92]

Baby Tom Felton! 🥰

The Borrowers!

Peagreen Clock

[miettemilkstain]

why did they drown tom felton in milk and then cover him in broken glass

[perksofbeingpoet]

and how lucky is todd, how lucky to have found a home in other people's hearts.

knox comes in without knocking, two t-shirts thrown over one of his arms like a waiter in a posh restaurant, the seams soft and worn. "you said you like this colour", he smiles, sitting down on todd's bed because it's no big deal, because he's comfortable enough, "and i think we have the same size."

they're sitting over a trig assignment, the tips of their hair brushing as they lean in close over the paper. meeks is frowning, exhaustion and frustration pulling at his eyebrows. "maybe it's- it-", todd starts, but the words clump in his throat and he's not that good at maths anyway. meeks smiles, a reassuring warmth in his eyes like dawn fog in summer. "no, go on."

charlie is laughing, laughing in a very big way because that's the only sort of laughter he's capable of - clutching his sides and doubling over, blindly grabbing at a street lamp for support. "you know", he says finally, wiping his eyes, his words slurred from drunken laughter, "you're way funnier than you give yourself credit for."

cameron drags his shirt over his head, already running, and todd is trying to catch up. warm, peagreen grass tickles his feet as he races down the short stretch of hill, throwing his shirt on top of cameron's which is already crumpled up by the peer. cameron yells "first!" and sputters lake water when todd jumps in after him, laughing, wet-haired.

"c'mon, one more sip." todd shuts his eyes and shakes his head, his exasperated chuckle doing nothing to hide the heat in his cheeks. "this is silly, you don't have to do this." pitts rolls his eyes and waves the spoon like a weapon until todd nods and lets pitts feed him another sip. "if this is the only way we'll get some food into you when you're sick, i'm ready to commit. now come on, there's still half a bowl of soup left."

[enchantress-emily]

I'm using @hiveworks' Micro Comic Summer event to expand my creative horizons with an autobiographical comic! This idea has been in my head for a long time, inspired by Lucy Knisley's work and the Secret Loves of Geeks/Geek Girls anthologies.

(Note: shortly after finishing this comic I discovered the term "aegoromantic", which means liking the idea of romance but not wanting it yourself. I'm so happy to know it's not just me who feels like this!)

For the curious, a list of the fictional characters included on each page is under the cut.

Page 1 Panel 2: The Phouka and Eddi from War for the Oaks by Emma Bull Panel 3: (me pretending to be) Tanya from Dance, Tanya by Patricia Lee Gauch; Laura from the Little House series by Laura Ingalls Wilder; Morwen from the Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia C. Wrede Page 2 Panel 1: Arrietty and Peagreen from The Borrowers Avenged by Mary Norton Panel 2: Hugo and Anthea from The Unknown Ajax by Georgette Heyer; Csevet and Maia from The Goblin Emperor by Katherine Addison Panel 3: Vincent (Knotty) from Widdershins by Kate Ashwin Page 3 Panel 5: Aziraphale and Crowley from Good Omens by Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman; Chrestomanci from the series of the same name by Diana Wynne Jones; Moist von Lipwig from Going Postal by Terry Pratchett; Tayse and Senneth from the Twelve Houses series by Sharon Shinn

[just-a-carrot]

grrr borrower gidget scratching my brain

BORROWER????

LIKE

?????

when i was a kid i wished i could be peagreen and i would pretend i was a borrower lol

[macwantspeace]

via Daily Kos - peagreen "If you have not seen this video yet, take a deep breath before you do. I just watched it and am still shaking. It is the most powerful one I’ve seen. And ,my god, that’s saying something. If for many people January 6th is the red line or anything close this draws it as sharply as anything can."

[theoutcastrogue]

Bravado on the gallows

[abridged excerpt from V.A.C. Gatrell's The Hanging Tree: Execution and the English People 1770–1868, Chapter 1.1: “Dying Bravely”, emphasis mine]

the most iconic depiction of a procession to the Tyburn gallows, with the condemned on a cart going through excited crowds: William Hogarth's The Idle 'Prentice Executed at Tyburn, from the Industry and Idleness series (1747)

In theory, a Londoner growing up in the 1780s could by 1840 have attended some four hundred execution days outside Newgate alone. If he was unimaginably diligent he could have watched 1,200 people hang (and there were such obsessives). The sanction of the gallows and the rhetoric of the death sentence were central to all relations of authority in Georgian England. But the gallows were also embedded in the collective imagination, the subject of anxiety, defence, and denial, of jokes, ballads, images, and satire, and of primal gratifications too.

Even today we take comfort from an exuberant and cheering fantasy of what public hangings were like, and hence blur the memory of what the noose really did to people. A pleasant myth shields us from the reality of the process. It is not that the myth was without basis. It is what it concealed that is in question.

Central to the fantasy is the memory of the felon’s procession to Tyburn before 1783. To surface appearances it all seems rather jolly, and in certain dark senses it was so:

As clever Tom Clinch, while the rabble was bawling, Rode stately through Holborn, to die in his calling; He stopped at the George for a bottle of sack, And promised to pay for it when he came back. – J. Swift, ‘Clever Tom Clinch going to be hanged’ (1726/7)

From Newgate prison the condemned were conveyed in open carts along Holborn, St Giles, and Tyburn Road (later Oxford Street) to the triangular gallows at the foot of the Edgware Road. The major stations in this parodic progress to Calvary were at inns like the Bowl on the corner of St Giles’ High Street, or the George in Holborn, where the condemned would be offered wine; then Tyburn itself; and then again at Surgeon’s Hall at the Old Bailey, where murderers’ bodies were displayed and dissected.

Thief, escape artist, and folk hero Jack Sheppard taking his last drink at St Giles

Playing as best they could to the crowd’s admiration and engaging in parodic dialogue with it, some felons on their way to their doom constructed the illusion that they were the masters of the ceremonies, and not the City marshal, under-sheriff, priest, constables, and javelin-men who were meant to impart solemnity and security to the procession. Lord Ferrers’s composure on his journey to Tyburn in 1760 ‘shamed heroes’, Horace Walpole reported. Hanged for murdering his servant, he bore the procession ‘with as much tranquillity as if he was only going to his own burial, not to his own execution’. Plebeians also put on fine displays:

The vilest rogues, and most despicable villains, may own a thousand crimes, and often brag of the most abominable actions; but there is scarce one, who will confess that he has no courage... The further a man is removed from repentance, nay, the more void he seems to be of all religion, and the less concern he discovers for futurity, the more he is admired by our sprightly people. – B. Mandeville, An enquiry into the causes of the frequent executions at Tyburn (1725)

When Lewis Avershaw was hanged on Kennington Common in 1795 he appeared ‘entirely unconcerned, had a flower in his mouth, his bosom was thrown open, and he kept up an incessant conversation with the persons who rode beside the cart, laughing and nodding to acquaintances in the crowd’. He was afterwards hanged in chains on Wimbledon Common, and ‘for several months, thousands of the London populace passed their Sundays near the spot, as if consecrated by the remains of a hero’. ‘Sixteen-string’ John Rann in 1774 wore a peagreen coat, a nosegay in his buttonhole, and nankeen small-clothes tied at each knee with sixteen strings. At the gallows he sustained the demeanour of his last dinner-party in Newgate, where the company had included seven of his girls and ‘all were remarkably cheerful’. Thanks to the crowds and the convivial exchanges en route, a popular daredevil like this might take two hours to travel the couple of miles to his Tyburn death.

The Newgate Drop in action, 1809

Nor did this festive tradition die when the scaffold was removed to Newgate’s exterior in 1783. At Holloway’s and Haggerty’s hanging in 1807 both men ‘conducted themselves with the most decided indifference’. Holloway ‘with an affected cheerfulness of countenance... jumped upon the scaffold when he had ascended the ladder, his arms being pinioned with a rope behind... got his hat between his two hands, and as well as he was able, bowed to the crowd repeatedly... with a view to show that he died game, as it is expressed.’ He announced his innocence, refused to pray, and told Haggerty to ignore the clergy-man. Ascending the Newgate scaffold in 1829, Thomas Birmingham ‘was instantly greeted by a vast number of girls of dissolute character in the mob, who called out repeatedly—“Good bye, Tom! God bless you, my trump!” In the 1830s the ballad of the condemned Sam Hall conveyed the tone of these scaffold exchanges:

I saw Nellie in the crowd, And I hollered,—right out loud— ‘Say Nellie, ain’t you proud— Damn your eyes’ .

These mocking postures were mainly metropolitan but not exclusively so. Before his execution at York in 1739, Dick Turpin employed five mourners to follow his cart to the scaffold.

Self-parody and the display of courage was one way of dealing with terror. Defiance was another. An agricultural worker executed in Kent for arson during the Swing disturbances in 1830 declared his innocence to the last and ‘refused to pull the cap down over his eyes, saying he wished to see the people’ as he died. Others spurned God and his priests. When the highway robber Norton died game in 1827 he refused religious consolations. When a schoolmaster in Newgate sought to persuade a condemned man that there was a future life, the reply got to the truth of it: “Why you too gammon on as well as the parson! They take your life away, and then they think to make amends by telling you of another and a better world; for my part I am very well satisfied with this, if they will let me stay in it.’

Thomas Rowlandson, Malefactors on Their Way to Tyburn (c. 1776–1827)

Then there was the determined care about dress. Best clothing was worn by those who could afford it. Few men now dressed as Lord Ferrers had in 1760, in his wedding suit of white and silver, or paraded symbols like the white cockade the burglar Waistcott wore in his hat in 1759 ‘as an emblem of his whole innocence’. Male dress was becoming sober. Hatfield wore a black jacket with waistcoat, fustian pantaloons, and white cotton stockings; Fauntleroy ‘a new suit of black, silk stockings of the same colour, and light pumps’. But women continued to affect sartorial gaiety. Elizabeth Fry found that the ‘chief thought’ of nearly every condemned woman in Newgate ‘relates to her appearance on the scaffold, the dress in which she shall be hanged’. When Christian Bowman was hanged and burnt outside Newgate in 1789 she was ‘drest in a clean striped gown, a white ribbon, and a black ribbon round her cap’. In 1815 Eliza Fenning wore the dress she was to have worn for her wedding, a ‘white muslin gown, a handsome worked cap, and laced boots’.

Striking in all this is the victim’s effort to maintain dignity to the last and to die well, by drawing on a supportive vein of cynicism which ran deep in popular culture. Also striking is the authorities’ tolerance of these efforts. Those with money could spend their last days in Newgate in dissipation, as John Rann did, along with the highwayman Paul Lewis in 1763 when he entertained guests in the condemned cell by singing bawdy songs and vilifying the parson. On the scaffold likewise, custom had long entitled the condemned to address the crowd as they pleased, seditiously if they chose. Although every effort was made to force them to public professions of guilt and penitence, they were not checked if they betrayed that role. Jacobites had betrayed the role spectacularly, some making seditious speeches ‘plainly calculated’, as Dudley Ryder had observed, ‘for nothing else but to incense the people against the government... A rogue cannot be hanged but he must become a saint upon the gibbet.’

Dr Johnson lamented the abolition of the Tyburn procession: ‘the old method was most satisfactory to all parties; the publick was gratified by a procession; the criminal was supported by it. Why is all this to be swept away?’ This comment is usually taken to indicate bluff Augustan heartlessness. But its key word was ‘support’, and the generosity of Johnson’s observation is clarified in Adam Smith’s amplification of it:

A brave man is not rendered contemptible by being brought to the scaffold. The sympathy of the spectators supports him, and saves him from that shame, that consciousness that his misery is felt by himself only, which is of all sentiments the most insupportable... He has no suspicion that his situation is the object of contempt or derision to any body, and he can, with propriety, assume the air, not only of perfect serenity, but of triumph and exultation.

Johnson’s and Smith’s insights take us at last beyond the jolly surface of these rituals to the bleaker truth which social memory has censored—that most felons went to their deaths in quaking terror. In this light the abolition of the procession and the long shift towards the privatization of execution, commonly understood as a progressive and humane movement, was the reverse of that. To kill felons without ceremony and in private was to deny them the only worldly support they could hope for in their last hours. As evangelicals had their cool say on the best chances of bringing the felon to penitence, the felon was to be left alone with his death, that his spirit might break. [n.b. The author does have a point here (it’s truly horrible to die all alone, without an audience and without your loved ones, at the hands of cops, priests and bureaucrats), but this take ignores that the crowd’s support was not a given; for some they cheered, but for others they cursed, heckled, mocked, threw mud etc]

While public executions lasted, many knew that outward bravado did not speak for a felt reality, and that the powdered wig, Holland shirt, gloves, and nosegays which some flaunted on their last journey was the only resort they had to ‘meliorate the terrible thoughts of the meagre tyrant Death’. The man who did contrive to conduct himself bravely was often actually drunk out of his mind:

But valor the stronger grows, The stronger liquor we're drinking, And how can we feel our woes, When we've lost the trouble of thinking?

— V.A.C. Gatrell, The Hanging Tree: Execution and the English People 1770–1868 (Oxford University Press, 1994)

[leftyinksart]

Casey MacNamara, AKA peagreen padawan destined to become a back-flipping, light-whip-wielding jedi sentinel.

I'm protesting Instagram's art compression, so here, have a clonewars art gallery.

[shit-talk-turner]

slightly too real except it’s not in her preferred color schemes of mustard, barf and peagreen /

The colors are ugly but the shape of the top and bottom would seem to be the style Louise would use

yes

[florasearle]

Building a Career Identity Lecture

12/01/2023

Making a plan:

Strengths, values and interests

Explore opportunities

Decide prioritise occupation-pros and cons

Job ideas:

Art Therapy-Untapped (Dorset)

Design agencies-CHS (Christchurch) Peagreen (Winchester), Finch Studio

Freelance designer (my brand TwiggyFiggyDesigns)-least desirable

Job sectors:

Private-sole traders, limited companies

Public-local and national governments

Not-for-profit-charity

Work life/balance:

Search for employers who promote wellbeing

Employees that offer work from home

Employers who offer suitable annual leave

Research what salary is acceptable on careers hub

Linkedln:

Sasika Nicholls design assistant penguin house

Inspiring interns

The Design Community Hub

[tom--22--felton]

📷: t22felton - Soh lovely to bump into Celia Imrie/Mrs clock this evening. She was My first mum *onscreen ‘98 #theborrowers #peagreen #ihatemilk #Slughornphotobombs #TomFelton https://www.instagram.com/p/B4rjX9ygtt5/?igshid=7s0ouy1ag86x

[easykoncepts]

#sundayservice #sundaymotivation #sunday #sundayleague #sundayvibes #sundayquotes #easykoncepts #graphicdesign #hexcodes #peagreen https://www.instagram.com/p/CdkXXBBtVvn/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[fred-the-dinosaur]

anyone else y’all got those clicky ankles