#plant local

[felidaefatigue]

Native plant miniprints posts part three! These prints will be available on my etsy on the equinox, m.20 2023.

Since part of why I wanted to work on this project is that I wanted to learn more about familiar, local plantlife (I'm on treaty 7), I figured I should share some of that information while posting them. If you have any other information about these plants please share! Many of these plants have been used medicinally but thats not info I'm qualified to give.  

Wild Pricky Rose, Rosa acicularis - For anyone in Alberta, it’s our provincial flower, but i also unfortunately don’t have many cool facts on em other than the rosehips are best eatin after a frost (avoid the seeds). (And also with any edible tips make sure they’re safe for you before trying).

Purple Coneflower, Echinacea purpurea - Echinacea is another prairie flower that will actually benefit from “poor” soil as too heavily amended soils will encourage good foliage, but limit flowering.  - You’ve almost surely heard of it if you’ve ever been to a health food or juice place as it got the “superfood” treatment for awhile. 

Pineapple weed/Wild Chamomile, Matricaria discoidea - I! love! this! little guy!  - Grows like crazy along pathways and between cracked cement and any random high traffic area.  - Smells god dang amazing if you run your hands over it (kinda pineappley)

find the rest of the posts here, including any future additions:

1/2/3/4/5/(tbc)

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two / Part Three

Ao3

It's 8:45 am. 

The Red Barn, which is neither red nor a barn, has been open since 7, catering to the early morning crowd with rounds of coffee and pancakes.

It was no Benny's, but given the size of Hawkins and the lack of alternatives?

No one was complaining. 

They were all too happy someone had opened up another watering hole for the working class man (or lass, as Foreman Shelly will dutifully remind you) which meant the place was packed with both day and night shift regulars, passing each other in staggered waves. 

It also meant Wayne was sharing the packed breakfast counter with a warehouse worker by the name of John Cheese on one side and Police Chief Jim Hopper on the other.

He doesn't mind it.

Wayne's a man on a budget thinner than his shoelace, but he's also a man who understands that small indulgences need to be made in life or you didn't truly live it.

This is how he convinces himself to get a coffee at the Barn after work everyday, reading the morning newspaper and chatting with the other regulars before he heads home.

Bonus, it gets him out of the rapid-fire franticness that is his nephew in the mornings.

(All the love in the world wouldn't change the fact that all that Eddie came with a lot of noise. 

The kind of noise that was a tried and true recipe for a headache right after a long shift.)

As a trade off, Wayne went to bed early so he could wake up in time for dinner with Eddie.

 It was a nice little system that worked for them. 

A routine Wayne was reminiscing fondly on, when the pager on Chief Hopper started to chirp. With a sad moan, the man fished out a few crumbled bills and threw them on the counter, abandoning his coffee to trudge out to his truck.

This was not unusual.

Particularly recently, given they were but a scant few weeks past that whole mall ordeal. A fact all too easy to remember when one caught sight of the Chief’s still healing face. 

What was unusual, was when he came storming through the doors a minute later, face now a furious shade of red with his hat clenched in his hand. 

The energy in the room shifted, taking on something a little watchful as Hopper swept his gaze from side to side, like a dog on the hunt.

Judging by the way he stilled when he caught sight of Wayne, the latter assumed he found what he was looking for and could only pray it was the person behind him. 

(He liked John, but Wayne had enough trouble this year and he wasn't looking for any more.) 

"Munson." Hopper called, striding over and dashing all his hopes. There was a choked fury emitting off him, and given the way John audibly scooted his chair away, Wayne knew everyone had clocked it. 

"Chief." Wayne greeted, inclining his head towards him.

Idly he wondered what the hell his nephew had done this time.

'So help me if he stole all the town's lawn flamingos and put them in that damn teachers yard again….'

Wayne didn't even get to finish his threat, the Chief was already next to him. 

"Mind if I have a word outside?" 

Dammit Eddie.

"Ah hell, what's he done now?" Wayne asked with a sigh, eyeing the coffee he had left morosely. 

There was still almost half of it left and the pot had tasted fresh for once. 

"What?" Hopper said, and then Wayne got to watch as the man ran through an entire chain of thoughts, each one punctuated by things like; "Oh," and "No. " 

"This is something else." He finished, flushed and fidgeting, anger making him antsy. 

Wayne stared up at him. 

"Something else?" He repeated, not sure he heard.

"Yes, something else." Hopper snapped impatiently, before leaning forward, voice dropping low. "This doesn't involve your nephew, but we both know you owe me for how many times I've let that kid off, Wayne. That's a damn big favor I've been doing you and I'm calling it in." 

If it were any other cop, it'd sound like a threat.

It was Hopper though. The same Hopper who Wayne had gone to school with.

They'd never been friends exactly, but they had been friendly and remained so. Even now, after Wayne had taken Eddie in, who’d gone on to be an undeniable pain in the local PD’s ass. 

Hopper really did let the kid off easy. 

Wayne really did owe him. 

So he put down his coffee with a sigh, passed his newspaper over to John and stood up, motioning for Hopper to lead the way. Got into the Chief’s truck when he waved him in, and didn’t make a big fuss when Hopper tore out of the parking lot like hell was about to open up under them. 

"Not a lot of the kids involved in the mall fire could be identified, but a few of them were." Hopper started, which felt nonsensical given the utter lack of context. 

Wayne hummed to show he’d heard. 

“Some of them got banged up more than others, and a lot of people wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t make it.” 

A pause, Hopper white knuckling the steering wheel as he swung the truck hard around a turn. 

“For certain people, those kids dying is the preferred outcome.” 

A mix of fear and warning swopped low in Wayne’s gut. 

"Jim." Wayne said, dropping the use of a last name because if any situation called for it, it was this one. "What exactly are you saying here?" 

The Chief chewed on his split lip. 

"I know you're smart, Munson. I know you, and plenty of others are aware that something's happening, been happening in this town." 

Which was a hell of an understatement if you asked Wayne. Plenty of the upper classes might be able to bury their heads when it came to the military parading about and the flow of “accidents” they brought in their wake, but then, they didn't see all the other signs of trouble. 

The absolute oddity that was Starcourt’s construction. 

How it had been built using primarily outside crews and anyone who'd taken a singular look at the site could tell you they were building it weird. 

Weird as in it looked like it would have a multi-level basement, and not what a mall should have. 

Then there were the constant electrical problems. The backups upon backups that failed. The late night delivery vans headed out to the Hawkins Lab. 

The things in the woods that kept spooking all the deer and the weird markings they left behind that unnerved even the hardest of hunters. 

This didn’t even touch the Russian military that more than one reputable person swore was hanging around. 

The very same Wayne himself had seen, on more than one occasion. 

(And you couldn’t deny it; those boys were military. Past or present, it didn’t matter. They moved like a threat, and Wayne treated them like one, staying well clear.)

"Yeah." Wayne admitted. "I also know better than to stick my nose in it." 

"That makes you a smarter man than me.' Hop complained under his breath, but the anger was self directed. 

"The point is, there are some government types crawling around, doing shit they shouldn't be doing, and more than a few of them are in the business of making people disappear.” 

This was absolutely not where Wayne had thought this was going. 

Hopper took a breath. Than another.

A third.

It was starting to make Wayne nervous, in a way he hadn’t felt since a social worker had brought Eddie to him for the last time and final time. It was the feeling that things were about to shift in a way that would change the course of his life. 

"Steve Harrington is sitting in my office right now, beat to absolute shit.” Hopper admitted.

Wayne gave him the floor to talk, letting him go at his own pace without interruptions. 

“He's there because some of those government types finally figured out his parents are never fucking home.” 

Wayne sucked in a breath. 

"We both know his parents, Wayne. Harassing them to come back and take care of their kid won't work, and frankly, I’m beginning to think all the phone lines are tapped anyway.” He winced here, like voicing such a thing pained him, and Wayne understood.

It sounded a little too out there, a little like he was buying into a conspiracy. 

Except he wasn’t. Wayne knew he wasn’t. 

Jim Hopper might have been an alcoholic, a man living in pain and unconcerned with his own life, but if there was one thing he was solid for, it was shit like this.

He didn’t jump to conclusions. Didn’t believe the first thing people told him. Even at his worst, he did the work to see what was really happening, and made his decisions from there. 

(Even if that decision was to accept the occasional bribe, or drive an intoxicated 13 year old Eddie home instead of hauling his ass into the drunk tank.) 

“Harrington won’t admit it, but he’s got a hell of a concussion if not a full blown brain injury and he’s not reacting as well as he should to Suites trying to run him off the road.” Hopper continued. Angrily, he added, “Damn kid didn’t even come to me until they tried to break into his house last night.” 

His fingers squeezed the wheel so hard Wayne heard the leather creak in protest. 

“I’d take him, but my cabin is being renovated from…” He trailed off, heaving a sigh.

 “A storm, so me and my kid are bunked with the Byers right now and we’re full up.” 

Hawkins hadn't had a storm like that in years, but Wayne wasn't going to call him out on the blatant lie. 

“I need a place to stash him for the next few weeks, until I can work with some of the higher ups sniffing around, and get them to call off their attack dogs.” 

“And you want to stuff him with me.” Wayne finished. 

“I know you don’t have the room.” Hopper admitted easily, stopping his truck at a red light and locking eyes with the other man. “But I also know you’ll be the last place anyone would look for him.” 

'Ain’t that the damn truth.'

“You’re really gonna go this far for a Harrington?” Wayne asked, instead of the million of other questions leaping to the forefront of his mind. 

This one, he figured, was the most important. 

“He’s not his dad.” Hopper said, as firm as Wayne had ever heard him. “He’s not either of his parents, and he saved my little girl.” 

Wayne hadn’t even known Hopper had another little girl, but he also knew better than to ask where the guy had found one. 

It wasn’t his business, just as nothing else Jim was involved in, was his business.

Except, apparently, Steve Harrington. 

“I’m gonna need my own truck if I’m takin' Harrington home.” Wayne said easily, instead of bothering to ask anything else.

If Jim said the kid was different than his daddy, then he was--because when it came to things like that, Jim didn't lie.

No point in it. 

“I know. Just needed to talk to you first, without anyone overhearing.” Jim said, before swinging the police truck around and heading back to the Barn. 

“I’ll stay in contact with you, and I’ll make sure Harrington pays you for the pleasure of your hospitality. Just--” Here Jim cut himself off, looking like he was struggling an awful lot with the next thing he wanted to say. 

Once again, Wayne waited him out.

“Don’t let Steve fool you. He’s good at fooling people, letting them think he’s okay. Too good at it, and between the two of us, I have a real good idea of the reason why.” 

A memory came to Wayne unbidden, of Richard Harrington and Chet Hagan, beating some poor kid in the highschool bathroom bloody. The grins on their faces as the poor guy wailed for them to stop.

How they almost hadn’t. 

“Alright.” Wayne agreed.

Hopper swung back into the Barn's parking lot, and Wayne moved right to his own beat to shit truck, ready to follow Jim back to the police station.

He wasn’t a praying man, not anymore, but Catholisim wasn’t a thing that let you go easy. 

He found himself sending up a quick prayer, fingers flicking in a kind of miniature version of the sign of the cross. 

Considering his own kid’s history with Harrington, and the sheer small space of the trailer? 

Wayne had a feeling it was needed.

[zenlesszonezero]

As the conspiracy reaches its finale, the Void Hunter joins the fight.

Uncover the Conspiracy in Zenless Zone Zero's All-New Version "A Storm of Falling Stars", S-Rank Agent Hoshimi Miyabi is here! With S-Rank Agent Asaba Harumasa Limited-Time Giveaway! Pre-register to obtain additional rewards.

[delphinidin4]

[sarahmackattack]

I made orbstructrions for making PollinatORBS (née seed bomb, but everything's so violent in the world, I didn't want the CHILDREN to see the word bomb. Or me. I don't want to see the word bomb if I don't have to. I am 35.)

Will the teachers I email this to use this worksheet? Maaaan who knows. Does the pollinatORB I drew kinda look like a turd thats being rolled by a dungbeetle? YEAH A LITTLE. But. Whatever kids. We're going with it.

Help a little bug near you. Look up native plants in your area. Plant a couple of em. Whisper to the first bug you see that you're happy to see them.

You can download the instructions here.

[serpentface]

A kulustaig bull, the distinctive cattle landrace of the highlands.

Kulustaig have striking differences to other native cattle found across the Imperial Wardi claimed territory. Their aurochs ancestors were domesticated in a separate event from those found south of the Inner Seaways, and the broader cattle population kulustaig derived from may have trace bison genetics. The progenitors of this landrace were brought south across the Viper seaway by the ancestors of the contemporary Hill Tribes, and were gradually shaped into the kulustaig in adaption to the high altitudes, mild but dry summers, and cool/snowy wet seasons.

These cattle are mid-sized and stocky in build with large, broad faces, most distinguished by curly manes and 'beards' and thick, V-shaped horns. Genetically undiluted kulustaig are almost ubiquitously black, white, and/or gray, though breeding with other cattle has introduced a greater variety of coloration in contemporary stocks.

They are adapted to higher altitudes, having larger hearts and a bigger lung capacity than comparable lowland breeds, and grow thick, curly winter coats that allow for superior resistance to seasonally cooler temperatures. They can maintain condition on less food and lower-nutrition grasses than the average cattle, and are excellent instinctive foragers. This particular quality makes them attractive for crossbreeding efforts with cattle stock of the dry scrublands in the south of Imperial Wardin, though most of their other traits are highly unfavorable for hot, low altitude environments, and scrub-kulustaig hybrids with idealized traits are rare (and highly sought after as studs).

These are all-purpose cattle that can adequately fulfill roles as meat, draft, and dairy animals, though the latter role has the most importance in day to day life, and they show the most selection for milk production (though are not as high-yield as pure dairy breeds). Their meat is mostly lean and somewhat gamey, as they rely more on thick winter coats than fat stores to manage cold, and the vast majority subsist entirely on wild grasses and forage.

Most kulustaig have fairly calm, gentle temperaments, and accommodate well to human handling (it is not uncommon for cows and geldings to be passively ridden by herders otherwise traveling on foot). Their herds have strong, well defined, and stable dominance hierarchy structures, which reduces actual fighting and lends to them being more easily managed by their human herders. In most traditions, the dominant female in each herd is regarded as blessed by and belonging to the agricultural goddess Od, and will not be milked or slaughtered (this untouchable status is often maintained even if the cow's rank in the hierarchy is displaced, though traditions vary).

Bulls are almost ubiquitously given personal names by their owners (the honor often belonging to a family or clan's matriarch, who is generally considered the owner of the herd and other familial assets), while other traditions vary between just the bulls and dominant cows, personal favorites, or entire herds receiving names.

These cattle are of tremendous importance to the peoples of the highlands (particularly tribes and/or individual clans living above the river valleys, who fundamentally rely upon them for subsistence). They provide much of the meat and dairy that the core diet revolves around, and are the greatest measure of wealth within the highlands. Non-native cattle can be commonly found in parts of the highlands in the contemporary (and may be bred in to impart unique qualities to established stock, such as improved milk production or fattier meat), but kulustaig are typically prized above all the rest. These cattle are often a source of great pride for individual clans, and one of few agreed upon markers of shared identity and pride for all of the collective Hill Tribes.

Cattle raiding is a near-ubiquitous practice (both as a practical resource acquisition, and a less immediately lethal method of settling larger disputes than open warfare), and most cattle will be branded with a mark identifying their owning clan as a method of dissuading theft (often futile, particularly given cattle marked as belonging to certain wealthy clans may be especially prized). Nose rings are commonly used to assist in the handling of bulls, but have secondary protective functions that lend to their common use in even the most docile of cattle. Rings are usually blessed or have spells woven into their making as a supernatural barrier against theft, or against malicious (or at least devious) mountain spirits such as tiirgranul (who take pleasure in frightening cattle (and their herders) and are known to cause stampedes) or wildfolk (who are known to sometimes steal or curse cattle when offended, or just bored).

The word kulustaig derives from the common word 'taig'/'taigr', which refers to cattle in the contemporary languages of both the Hill Tribes and Finns, and the 'kul' root (heavily antiquated and not used in contemporary speech, most commonly recognizable in the name of the kulys plant), which has connotations of hardiness/robust qualities. The name would have derived from complimentary descriptions of the animals as 'the best and most robust of cattle'.

[cutiesigh]

「Demo WIP」 Can y'all watch my plant real quick? 🍈

[piscesbxnny]

plant shop cats!!

they don’t know about bills or deadlines. 👩🏻‍🦯

i wish i was a cat sleeping in oregano or weaving between shelves to get to my favorite sitting spot in a fabric planter box🪴🐈

[lady-quen]

"We are momentary masters

We're false kings and bastards"

Happy Spooktober from Mael

[gallusrostromegalus]

If one were to print out a large amount of fanfics, how well-fortified would the resulting slash pile be after the introduction of a family of woodchucks?

While I appreciate the pun, the answer is not very because the thing that makes paper take ink so well is also the thing that makes it not very structurally stable .

[ex-injuria-jus-non-oritur]

18•01•22// back from a small hiatus to write my 4th exam 📝☕️✨ Here's to two of my favourite views and only 2 more weeks of studying before I'm done this round of licensing!

[felidaefatigue]

Native plant miniprints posts part two! These prints will be available on my etsy on the equinox, m.20 2023.

Since part of why I wanted to work on this project is that I wanted to learn more about familiar, local plantlife (I'm on treaty 7), I figured I should share some of that information while posting them. If you have any other information about these plants please share! Many of these plants have been used medicinally but thats not info I'm qualified to give.  

Smooth Blue Beard Tongue, Penstemon nitidus - grows in rocky, sandy conditions - gets its name from the fuzzy yellow stamen "tongue"

Wild Blue Flax, Linum lewisii - can be used to make cordage, fabric, paper etc.

Blue Columbine, Aquilegia brevistyla - sometimes called granny's bonnet - comes in a ton of different colors - their latin name Aquilegia references eagle claws for the curling spur petals

find the rest of the posts here, including any future additions:

1/2/3/4/5/(tbc)

[annapolisrose]

white flowers in a pot

[buboplague]

merry christmas  🎄 watch out for pesky demons stealing your plant children

[taketwoinink]

Tips For Living With ADHD

Reminders are your best friend. Get a reminder app. Use it obsessively.

Put things in line of sight. For example, leave your toothbrush out on the counter if you can. See the toothbrush, remember to brush teeth.

Sometimes you will just NOT be able to focus, despite your best efforts. Don't beat yourself up over it

Reminders are your best friend

Get some people who can hold you accountable and bully you into doing things. let them know what you're going to be working on and report back when you've finished

If you need to do something in two hours (or any amount of time), set a timer

Basically you will forget to do anything and everything so the goal is to make it as easy to remember as you can

Sometimes if your brain can't focus, go find something that you can focus on. That can trick it into focus mode. Just make sure to not get too distracted and use up all your brain power particles.

To stay better hydrated, take a water bottle with you everywhere. I mean everywhere. Have it in line of sight at all times so you'll remember it when you need liquid

You might need more stimulation in order to focus. For me, listening to music (especially with lyrics) really helps. That might not work for anyone, but if you find something that works for you, use it. Use it all the time.

Have a body double. Get someone to sit with you with you work. You don't need to talk or interact, just have them there. They can be doing whatever they want. It really works.

You're going to forget if you took your medication or not. Have a paper or something that you can mark off on immediately after you take it. Leave your medication somewhere where you can see it so you won't forget it exists.

Reward yourself when you meet your goals! Celebrate little victories! Make working as fun for yourself as you can

You got this!

[heatherwitch]

PNW Plant Magic Series

These posts were made many years ago based on my personal (UPG) correspondences and experiences with the plants. Some views have evolved since then!

I encourage you to sit with any plant you want to incorporate into your craft and truly connect with them instead of solely using a UPG correspondence list on tumblr! Consider these a starting point/inspiration! :)

Bleeding heart

Bracken Fern

Deer Fern

Lady Fern

Licorice Fern

Maidenhair Fern

Miner’s Lettuce

Nettle

Osoberry

Red Elderberry

Salal

Salmonberry

Sorrel

Sword Fern

Trillium

[flowerishness]

Aubrieta deltoidea (purple rock cress), Salvia nemorosa, (woodland sage) and Fragaria × ananassa (garden strawberry)

Escape artists

A few years ago, our local city council created a fancy boulevard sidewalk on the road leading down to the beach. The intention was to create a carefully-maintained, flower-laden, tourist route to endless fish and chips and ice cream cones.

Of course, one city council's 'pet project' is the next city council's 'waste of money' and that "carefully-maintained" part never happened. Unfortunately, the little flowerbeds soon went to wrack and ruin. On the other hand, it's interesting to see these successful garden escapees making a go of it in extremely poor soil. Now why doesn't my strawberry patch look this good?