#polish chicken egg

[cosmo-naughtie]

Something you should know about me: I’m obsessed with nail polish & nail care. And it tickles my brain when my backyard hens’ eggs match my nails. 🧠🥚💅����

[pyrriax]

Ah, so tell me Sugar or Salt for better preservation?

salt! especially when you're working with dry preservation, which is what it's being used for typically. sugar will attract bugs and other things which will eat away at the specimen, along with not drawing out the moisture nearly as well / at all.

but if you're working with things like rabbits feet, which are intended to be dry at the end, you'd think that the process involves just drying them, right? but you'd be wrong! the process (at least that i've followed in the past) involves soaking them twice, once in a soapy water mixture to remove parasites, then in a high concentrate isopropyl alcohol, rinsing thoroughly between steps.

processes vary depending on what you're working on. another example is that for the rooster i'm planning to take the wings from, i'm going to need to both remove his wings, and go through the process of removing the flesh while also keeping the skin in tact around his bones, since i'm going to be effectively stuffing the void with cotton, so that everything lays properly when its all dried. those are actually going to be dried in salt, which is primarily because he was a domestic animal and i know where he'd been.

[coreyjaechicken]

MY BABY GUS LAYED HER FIRST EGG!!

SHE DID SO WELL!

HER EGG’S SO PRETTY!

[say-duhnelle]

White eggs are not a US exclusive thing? The most prominent breed of chicken which lays white eggs is probably the white leghorn, which as you may have guessed from the name originates from Leghorn/Livorno in Italy??

not to amniotepost on the plant blog but everyone talks about how free range eggs are good for humane reasons and nobody’s talking about how they’re prettier. like I’m just more drawn to the non-uniform speckled brown ovals man idk what to tell you

[jessica-problems]

mutual 1: dissertation on common misconceptions about the history of polish seamstresses in the 1820's.

mutual 2: [second half of a two part post]

mutual 3: [liveblogging the disassembly of some kind of contraption]

mutual 4: lmao one of my chickens laid an egg over eight feet up in a tree

mutual 1: [cock and balls image]

mutual 5: I think, if a girl turned me into some kind of cocksleeve, that would fix me

mutual 3: [continued liveblogging of said disassembly]

mutual 6: gif of lesbians from some arrowverse show you've never heard of

mutual 7: [deep fried meme about some kind of bolivian military hardware]

mutual 8: [mental health advice and soup recipes]

mutuals 1, 2, and 5: elaborate role play of a jury sentencing someone to horny jail

mutual 1: [cock and balls image]

mutual 3: [continued liveblogging]

[doubledaybooks]

Read an Excerpt of WHEN WOMEN WERE DRAGONS by Kelly Barnhill

I was four years old when I first met a dragon. I never told my mother. I didn’t think she’d understand.

(I was wrong, obviously. But I was wrong about a lot of things when it came to her. This is not particularly unusual. I think, perhaps, none of us ever know our mothers, not really. Or at least, not until it’s too late.)

The day I met a dragon, was, for me, a day of loss, set in a time of instability. My mother had been gone for over two months. My father, whose face had become as empty and expressionless as a hand in a glove, gave me no explanation. My auntie Marla, who had come to stay with us to take care of me while my mother was gone, was similarly blank. Neither spoke of my mother’s status or whereabouts. They did not tell me when she would be back. I was a child, and was therefore given no information, no frame of reference, and no means by which I might ask a question. They told me to be a good girl. They hoped I would forget.

There was, back then, a little old lady who lived across our alley. She had a garden and a beautiful shed and several chickens who lived in a small coop with a faux owl perched on top. Sometimes, when I wandered into her yard to say hello, she would give me a bundle of carrots. Sometimes she would hand me an egg. Or a cookie. Or a basket full of strawberries. I loved her. She was, for me, the one sensible thing in a too-­often senseless world. She spoke with a heavy accent—­Polish, I learned much later—­and called me her little żabko, as I was always jumping about like a frog, and then would put me to work picking ground-­cherries or early tomatoes or nasturtiums or sweet peas. And then, after a bit, she would take my hand and walk me home, admonishing my mother (before her disappearance) or my aunt (during those long months of mother-­missing). “You must keep your eyes on this one,” she’d scold, “or one day she’ll sprout wings and fly away.”

It was the very end of July when I met the dragon, on an oppressively hot and humid afternoon. One of those days when thunderstorms linger just at the edge of the sky, hulking in raggedy murmurs for hours, waiting to bring in their whirlwinds of opposites—­making the light dark, howling at silences, and wringing all the wetness out of the air like a great, soaked sponge. At this moment, though, the storm had not yet hit, and the whole world simply waited. The air was so damp and warm that it was nearly solid. My scalp sweated into my braids, and my smocked dress had become crinkled with my grubby handprints.

I remember the staccato barking of a neighborhood dog.

I remember the far-­off rumble of a revving engine. This was likely my aunt, fixing yet another neighbor’s car. My aunt was a mechanic, and people said she had magic hands. She could take any broken machine and make it live again.

I remember the strange, electric hum of cicadas calling to one another from tree to tree to tree.

I remember the floating motes of dust and pollen hanging in the air, glinting in the slant of light.

I remember a series of sounds from my neighbor’s backyard. A man’s roar. A woman’s scream. A panicked gasping. A scrabble and a thud. And then, a quiet, awestruck Oh!

READ MORE

Excerpted from When Women Were Dragons by Kelly Barnhill. Copyright © 2022 by Kelly Barnhill. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Hi! I want to know your head canons on SLANG! What sort of things to wizards say to sound cool or evoke thoughts or feelings? What sayings might they have? Do we maybe have any in common with them?

We know that “to have a hairy heart” means to be aloof or cold. (Fm Tales of Beedle the Bard)

I once read a very compelling headcanon that Americans would never use no-maj (for non-magical) as a term cuz they like to shorten things so much, and so American wizfolk would use either ‘noma’ or ‘nomie’. As an American I agree tbh.

I hc that the Hogwarts motto “Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus” [never tickle a sleeping dragon] to be a kind of slang for “don’t do that”.

Like, your friend is getting ready to sneak out of her dorm to go see a guy even though she knows Peeves has been feisty lately. “….Draco dormiens, Molly,” you whisper as she sneaks out the door.

Yeah! Any thoughts?

I love this, and I definitely think there are wizard versions for some common phrases we have (and we actually see some in the books). In my fic I try to add magical variations of phrases to make the world feel more real.

I'd say which shortened version of no-maj would be said would depend on where in the US the wizard is from. I imagine some areas would say "noma" some would say "nomie" and I'm sure there would be other variants. I think it'll just really depend on location.

But most of the idioms and slang I have headcanons for are for the UK.

Some examples I've written into my fic:

Hit him like a bludger - would mean having a strong emotional reaction, like "hit like a ton of bricks"

You look like a dementor’s got you - generally to mean one looks upset or down.

Eating away at his brian like the Fwooper’s song - to mean something is occupying your thoughts, but like, to obsessive levels.

I also like the idea of:

"Confunded" - being used as the word "befuddled"

"Demiguise" - used to the same as calling someone a wallflower, since they become invisible.

"Keep the egg under the toad" - references the process of breeding a basilisk, which is illegal. Means to keep something quite or on the downlow.

"Are you yanking my wand?" - used like saying "are you joking me?" and is an extension of the saying "yanking your wand" that appears in Deathly Hallows.

"Polishing your wand" - is a real thing Cedric and other wizards apparently do, but I am convinced it also refers to jerking off.

"Until the Jobberknoll sings" - kinda like "it isn't over until the fat lady sings", since a Jobberknoll only sings on the moment it dies.

Similarly, saying "Joberknoll song" instead of "Swan song"

"Swearing like a Jarvey" - Like "Swearing like a sailor" since Jarveys are known for being rude and swear a lot.

I have a few more I wrote/thought of, but these are some off the top of my head.

There is also this wiki page that has a list of wizard idioms used in Harry Potter and it's extra semi-canon content (like the video games and pottermore). I don't consider all of this list canon, but there are some I like there, like:

Breed like gnomes (From DH) - meaning breed like rabbits and said by Muriel about the Weasleys

Different kettle of Grindylows (from Hogwarts Legacy) - like saying "different kettle of fish" or "another can of worms"

Dodged a bludger - like "dodged a bullet"

Don't count your owls before they are delivered (from HBP) - like "don't count your chickens before they hatch"

The fire's lit, but the cauldron's empty (from DH) - like "the lights are on, but nobody's home"

I could eat a Hippogriff (from GoF) - like "I could eat a horse"

I'll take Cadogan's pony (from pottermore) - roughly means to make the best of a bad situation

Knockturn Alley's litter epidemic (from GoF) - means something obvious/boring

Yanking your wand (from DH) - means to joke around.

Anyone who has more of these wizard common phrases headcanons, feel free to add more!

[never-say-neverwhore]

I just remembered I have free will and can post whatever I want, so here are the misfits as chicken breeds, half based on my personal experiences, and half just on the vibes. (Perhaps I'll do the acolytes and staff later heheh)

Lenore

Plymouth Rock

Morella

Buff Frizzle (bantam breed)

Duke

Silver Laced Polish

Pluto

Black Old English Game Bantam

Berenice

Golden Sebright (Bantam breed)

Eulalie

Blue Laced Red Wyandotte

*(Note: bantam breeds, whether true bantams or bantam versions of regular breeds, are pretty much mini chickens. They're like... Half the size of regular chickens lmao. This includes their eggs, making their eggs perfect for halfing recipes!)

[ragingstillness]

Second black butler meta I can’t help but post:

I absolutely adore black butler and Yana by association because of how incredibly self-aware it is. You don’t really recognize it on the first watch, especially if you only see the first season (or the forbidden second season), but the minute you reread/rewatch and have a larger context, it immediately becomes clear. I own a copy of the first manga volume and in the author’s note Yana makes a point of saying that her editor practically laughed her out of the room for suggesting a story about a character who is both a demon and a butler. So right off the bat, expectations set: this is going to be weird and wild.

And it is, but it’s also very aware of that. The little nods to historical events and discoveries, the blatant stealing of tropes from shonen and shoujo manga, the narrator-like quality of Sebastian’s cutaways, it’s almost a fourth wall break, an invitation to laugh at things that aren’t necessarily meant to be funny but are funny in larger context. For the most part the characters take their lives seriously and the audience gets the dramatic irony but that’s not always the case, see: Sebastian losing it over Ciel blushing at Lizzie, that stupid Phoenix pose, Ciel barely keeping it together as Lizzy plops a pink bonnet on Sebastian’s head. It’s funny from both a general and ironic perspective.

Within the assumption of the story being weird and wild Yana gets to do a lot of genre shifting and frankly I love it. One minute we’re hunting Jack the Ripper, next we’re training to be pop stars, then we’re fighting werewolves, then we’re navigating a cricket game at boarding school. Not a lot of stories get away with that much genre shifting in quick succession but Black Butler does it effortlessly.

They’re particularly good at catching the reader off guard with a funny moment in a serious scene but even better at turning something fun dark on a dime. This is very very hard to do and Yana gets away with it because of how neatly she’s melded the different aspects of the story much like how she melded Sebastian’s character traits.

Ciel is an emotionally immature 13-year-old boy but he’s also an extremely traumatized orphan with murderous tendencies. Sebastian is both a polished servant and a savage demon. Finny is a happy gardener and a disillusioned former test subject. Mey-Rin is a clumsy maid and a former child soldier. Bard is a useless arrogant cook and a soldier running to and from every battlefield he sees.

The ability of these things to coexist, allows for the side by side existence of Ciel failing to be a circus performer and fighting through a flashback to murder a sadistic serial killer. If the story didn’t embody the complexity of the characters and vice versa, one of the two would feel odd and jarring. It’s a beautiful depiction of the chicken and the egg question of plot being driven by character but also driving character.

The genre switching is also just fun, because it pulls in an element often seen in fanfiction which is the AU (alternate universe). While the different arcs still exist in the same universe, the vital aspect of “how would these characters react in this situation” is maintained.

[thepoetjean-makes-stuff]

HOW TO ACTUALLY WRITE -- THE BASICS (AKA STEP 0-1)

(AKA ThePoetJean justifies their Master's degree and makes it everyone else's problem)

1) "WRITING IS REWRITING" AND WHAT THE HELL THAT MEANS -- No writing is law or set in stone upon the first draft, and whoever taught you that is a bum. Even permanent glue can be removed by nail polish remover, so why is editing your first draft no different? When writing for fun, oftentimes you can edit the post and clean up the story when things are no longer working (it's called a cutting room floor for a reason). When writing for publishing, you'll often be paired with an editor who'll send tweaks back-and-forth to you, chipping away at any structural mistakes or grammar flaws to bring out the point of your writing piece in the process. The first draft is just about getting the general vibes of the story down: like the batter for the cake recipe before you start baking it. This part is meant to be fun and messy and no one expects you to serve them go when you're just cracking your eggs open. Let yourself be messy cuz (burnt or fluffy), this is the first step to making your story, so no need to have something be all pretty and presentable the first time around! Again, a lot of writing is just rewriting cuz drafts are a thing so getting stuff down is most important. And another amazing thing -- if the story sucks, you can always change it later! You gotta trust yourself to get it done in order to get it out to the world one way or another, so go do that!

2) LEARN YOUR OWN WRITING PROCESS! -- (OH MY GOD PPL, LEARN HOW YOU TO THE THING IT'S HALF THE BATTLE!) Most of the struggles I see with newer writers is never learning how they write, and that sucks since have the joy of making things is making the thing -- so why make writing stories so arduos for yourself. Learn your own methods and use them whenever you get to writing! Learn the writerly basics like plot, structure, framing, character voice, setting, time period, etc and learn how best you can utilize them in your own stories! On a purely craft level: Learn ALL THE WRITING CRAFT and keep in mind that all writing craft is meant to be guidelines rather than hard rules. Learn many ways about how to write in general cuz no writing advice is one size fits all and being embarrassed of your process is dumb and hinders your creative growth. Trust yourself as a writer, you'll improve faster that way. Believing you can and believing it's possible is the first step to doing anything! (Plus all writing is rewriting anyhow to there's no need to feel embarrassed about something you can fix later, anyways, right?)

3) Read projects like your project in order to get a better feel of your project. Whether it be writing style references, basic literary craft examples, or just you want to break down the vibes of the stories so you can better emulate in your own -- GO AND WATCH/READ/LISTEN ETC TO WHATEVER STORIES YOU THINK WOULD MATCH THE VIBES OF YOUR OWN!! Now, this isn't a 1-to-1 copy, you're not mean to make a clone of the thing you like or take properties for the IP that you're into -- that's more along the lines of fanfiction (which can be fun and is ofc, super valid) -- BUT! To create your own stories, you need to learn where you get your ideas from, and learn how to implement, borrow, twist, etc from the story structures and properties you gather your inspo from. Other writers are your peers, not your enemies -- so treat their work and your own with the respect it deserves. No two chicken sandwiches are ever exactly the same; true artists steal from many places, so learn how to be a good thief (creatively speaking). Example from my own secret WIP novel: I'm writing a New Adult Urban fantasy novel with a dark, powerful lady protagonist that uses lots of philosophical themes, alternate history perspectives as well as using mythology as a basis for a lot of the magical roots and setting roots. Likewise, this a story about friendship and romance after major loss and trauma, and how to come back to yourself after grief, so I've been looking for stories that cover those themes in their plots, which has made the story a lot more fun to read and write outside of just being a cool concept to play with.

If you're writing a second-chance romance story, read romance stories. If you're writing a sci-fi story with lots of robots, read stories about robots. Presumably, you enjoy the same stories you're writing in concept if not in execution, so don't hesitate to seek those stories out, and break down how those stories work in order to scrap them for literary parts. You're smarter than you think you are, and breaking down stories is a lot of fun once you get the hang of it, so please consider doing this as you go into your next project, your writing will thank you for it!

OPTIONAL:

4) If the story works better as something else, swap the format and see what happens.

Have you ever read something and been like "Huh, I like this book, but with how iconography is used in the actual text, it might be better as a movie or a comic book"? So have I!

So, if you ever feel like the story you're writing isn't working so well as a novel or a play, consider turning it into a movie or a webcomic! Of course, this is all easier said than done, and every writing format comes with its own rules and limitations, but I'd give it a try if you ever want to see your project from a fresh perspective! If nothing else, you'll learn something new -- and become a better writer for it!

Til next time, beloveds~

__

PS. Take all advice with a grain of salt. I am not your parent or your principal, I'm just a lady with a writing degree and a lil free time. Take what resonates, leave what doesn't, etc. PLEASE SHARE THIS POST AROUND TO ANYONE WHO IT MIGHT HELP! THANKIES :3

KOFI: https://ko-fi.com/thepoetjean

[brodygold]

Twelve Days of Christmas: Day Three

On the third day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: three French hens.

Brody stepped off the bus, suitcase in hand, and took in the familiar sight of his grandparents' farm. Rolling fields, the smell of hay, and the cacophony of clucking chickens greeted him like an old friend. This year, he was visiting for the holidays, eager to spend some quality time with his grandparents and older cousin, Travis. Among the usual farmyard chaos, Brody’s eyes caught sight of three French hens clucking daintily near the coop, their feathers pristine amidst the muddy surroundings.

Standing by the weathered fence were his grandmother Marylou, his grandfather Hank, and Travis. All three waved enthusiastically, their southern drawls carrying over the breeze as they hollered their welcomes.

“Well, ain’t this a sight for sore eyes! Lookit you, all fancy and grown up,” Marylou called, her voice warm and rich with Southern charm. She adjusted her apron, which was stained with flour and dirt from a morning spent baking and gardening.

Hank tipped his wide-brimmed hat. “Got here just in time. Chickens ‘bout ready for feedin’. You up for it, boy?”

Travis leaned against the fence, his plaid shirt untucked, chewing a piece of hay. “City life ain’t softened ya up too much, has it, Brody?”

Brody chuckled, playing along. “Not at all, y’all. Let’s get to work.”

As they continued working throughout the day, Brody couldn’t help but notice how out of place he truly felt. He’d grown used to being in the city and being with the Golden Army. He was used to working hard at practice and giving 100 percent in everything he did, but this still tired him out even more than any of that ever did. The sight of muddy boots and fraying overalls gave him an idea—one that made him smile.

Once they reached the coop to gather eggs, Brody pulled out a sleek, golden badge etched with the insignia of the Golden Army. He held it up, the sunlight reflecting brilliantly off its surface.

“What’s that there?” Marylou asked, squinting at the badge.

“A little something special,” Brody said with a mischievous grin. “Trust me, it’s going to make everything better.”

Before they could ask questions, Brody pressed the badge, and a pulse of golden light radiated outward, enveloping all three of them at once. The air shimmered around them, and their bodies froze momentarily as the transformation took hold.

Marylou’s apron and dress dissolved into shimmering particles that floated away like fireflies. Her weathered hands smoothed, and her hunched frame straightened as years melted away. Her gray curls darkened into a sleek cut, and her face reshaped into sharp, youthful masculine features. Her outfit reassembled into a sharp, golden button-down shirt tucked neatly into khaki shorts. A golden bow tie materialized at her collar, and loafers appeared on her feet. Her southern drawl vanished as she blinked, a refined, posh voice replacing it. “Oh my, Brody, this is simply marvelous! How dreadfully uncouth I must have seemed before.” He touched his face in awe. “I feel absolutely splendid.”

Hank’s plaid shirt and jeans melted into golden light, revealing a polished golden button-down shirt and crisp khaki shorts. His rugged face softened, his skin smoothing and his posture straightening as he grew more youthful and vibrant. His thinning hair thickened into neatly combed waves, and his work boots disappeared, replaced by polished loafers. A golden bow tie appeared at his collar, completing the look. His southern drawl faded as he adjusted the collar of his shirt, speaking in a crisp accent. “Well, this is a revelation! Manual labor is such a tiresome ordeal, don’t you think?” He flexed his fingers, marveling at the transformation. “Quite the improvement.”

Travis let out a startled yelp as his tattered clothes evaporated, replaced by a tailored golden button-down shirt and khakis that fit his newly muscular frame. His lanky build filled out with lean strength, his hair styled itself into a fashionable cut, and the hay fell from his mouth as a golden bow tie appeared at his collar. His voice emerged posh and articulate, his southern twang erased. “Brody, old chap,” he said, straightening his bow tie, “this is far more agreeable. The farm is positively dreadful, don’t you think?”

Brody stepped back, admiring his handiwork as the three of them examined their new appearances. They looked every bit the part of Golden Army recruits—poised, polished, and exuding confidence.

Martin clasped Brody’s shoulder. “Well, dear boy, shall we leave this place behind? The Golden Army could use individuals of our caliber.”

Hank nodded, inspecting his new loafers. “Indeed. This farm life is a thing of the past. Let’s move on to greater pursuits.”

Travis adjusted his bow tie, glancing back at the chicken coop with disdain. “I couldn’t agree more. Golf or lacrosse sounds infinitely preferable to this mess.”

Brody smiled and pulled out his phone. “Before we leave, let’s get a picture of this transformation.”

"Tell us something we don't know, bro." The trio lined up, their golden button-down shirts and bow ties gleaming in the sunlight, standing tall and confident. Brody snapped a picture, capturing their polished new appearances against the backdrop of the farm they were leaving behind.

“Perfect,” Brody said, slipping his phone back into his pocket. Together, the four of them strode away from the farm, leaving the clucking chickens and fields behind. Brody felt a bit disappointed that his family wouldn't be running the farm anymore, but he was sure the polo drones would be more than willing to help out.They'd do anything for the team after all!

[mariacallous]

Piroshki are a popular Russian pastry of filled buns that are either baked or fried. Most piroshki are made with a soft yeasted dough that is enriched with egg, but some piroshki are made with a pastry dough of butter/margarine that becomes flaky when baked. The fillings for piroshki can range from savory to sweet, and include meat, vegetables, fruit and jam.

Piroshki typically come in two sizes: meal-sized or snack-sized. The larger form is often the size of a sandwich and can be served as a main dish, and the smaller kind is about the size of a Twinkie and is typically served alongside soup.

The word “piroshki” can confuse non-Russian speakers with its closeness to pierogi, which is Polish for dumplings. You may be familiar with pierogi, traditionally filled with potato or cheese, and in Russia there is a similar type of dumpling called vareniki. Piroshki are definitively not dumplings, but are more akin to a hand-pie or empanada. While filled buns of all kinds exist across cultures, the style of pastry that is piroshki originated in Russia. Their appeal has extended beyond Eastern Europe and into parts of Greece — where they are called piroski — to Iran — where they are called pirashki — to Finland, Central and East Asia and Japan (where they are still called piroshki).

Both my grandmothers are from the former U.S.S.R. My grandmother Fanya loved to cook and eat rich foods. She liberally used butter, sugar, salt and oil (and she lived past 90 years old for those concerned). My other grandmother, Mira, loved to eat healthily, opting for olive oil instead of butter, and preferred baking to frying. They were equally talented cooks, and piroshki were something they both made often. Their approaches differed: Fanya used a yeasted dough and she would deep fry the piroshki, and Mira used a pie crust-like dough for her piroshki, which she baked. While the dough and preparation differed, the fillings they made were similar: potato with caramelized onion, simply seasoned ground beef or chicken, or braised cabbage and carrot.

If I’m visiting Brighton Beach, Brooklyn, where there is a high concentration of Russian Jews and Russian food, my favorite piroshki are the giant ones sold from carts on the street that are most definitely fried, are the size of my head, and cost around a dollar. If I’m making piroshki at home then I opt for a yeasted dough, and I prefer to bake the piroshki instead of deep-frying them. In either case, I love cabbage piroshki best — the vegetable lends itself to the perfect combination of savory, sweet and hearty. The recipe here is for cabbage piroshki that pay homage to both my grandmothers. The dough has a light airy texture just like Fanya’s, and it gets baked, glossy and browned like Mira’s. I love to serve these with borscht or chicken soup, but they are good all on their own as a comforting, portable snack.

Note: Piroshki can be reheated easily and freeze well.

[j4gm]

I made a Minecraft mod! It adds kiwi birds.

This is a mod I made as a moving present for a friend who went to live in New Zealand last year. I finally decided to polish it up and release it to the public. It is inspired by the Cute Kiwi Birds mod by Lordloss_ which hasn't been updated since 1.16. All code and assets are original.

FEATURES

Kiwi birds spawn in most forest biomes.

They will occasionally dig for items, including seeds, berries, and sometimes nuggets of iron and gold, according to a loot table that can be configured using a data pack.

They can be bred with seeds, and they lay eggs which work the same way as chicken eggs.

If you slay a kiwi bird (you monster) they will drop kiwifruit which can be eaten or crafted into delicious pavlova.

Just like real life, kiwi birds are vulnerable to invasive predators. Don't let your pet cats get too close!

NOTES

This mod requires Forge for Minecraft 1.20.1.

You have permission to use this mod in mod packs. Refer to the license for other questions about distribution.

The source code and issue tracker are available on Github.

DOWNLOAD LINK

It's also available via the CurseForge app, and awaiting moderator approval on Modrinth.

[green-planets]

Starlight Express but it's a Farmer's and Craft Market au! I've been rotating the idea around in my head for a few days now (and shared it in some servers!) There are a lot of (mostly) friendly rivalries going on between the vendors. They also barter and trade goods amongst each other!

Here's a map of the general layout of the stalls:

The two stalls on the top row directly to the right of Momma and Rusty were empty for a long time until Pearl started vending in the neighboring stall. About a week later, Electra set up shop.

I've also listed the stall types for each character under the cut (if you can't read my chicken scratch lol)!

Rusty and Momma- Your standard homegrown produce, Momma specializes in chicken and duck eggs

Greaseball- Cured meats, jerky, and BBQ sauce. His younger sister steps in to run his stall sometimes >:)

Electra- Spice blends and dried herbs

Pearl- Handcrafted jewelry

Dinah- Baked goods and jams

Buffy and Ashley- Honey, beeswax, and syrup

Carrie- Handmade bags (totes, handbags, coin purses, etc)

Brandi- Homebrewed beer and mead

Tassita- Succulents, stationary, and greeting cards. He also does custom calligraphy

Memphis Belle and Bonnie (Belle Jr.)- Quilts and crocheted crafts. Bonnie specializes in making plushies

Dustin- Polished and painted rocks

Flat Top- Sometimes he makes miniature sculptures out of welded nuts and bolts to sell at Dustin's stall. He's mostly there just to hang out with Dustin and get free jerky samples

Rockies- Pottery and custom mugs

CB- Foraged mushrooms (are they edible? Who knows...)

BV- He runs a shell game where he can rip people off

Slick- Gourmet olive oil

Porter and Lumber- Woodburn art. Lumber also does whittling on the side

Hydra- He's not a vendor, but he really wants to form a partnership with Rusty and show him Hydroponic Gardening

Wrench- Upcycled furniture

Volta and Joule- Soap, bath bombs, and candles

Purse and Krupp- Flowers

Killerwatt- He doesn't have a stall, he assists Electra

Zero- Smoothie stand (in a food truck set-up)

Espresso and Bobo- Wine and cheese (they used to have separate stalls until their rivalry turned into romance)

Coco- Handcrafted jewelry (uh oh, Pearl's got a rival)

Turnov- Knit goods (scarves, mittens, hats, etc.)

Ruhrgold- Artisan bread

Hashamoto- Assorted produce and (edible) mushrooms

Brexit- Fancy tea blends

[merchant-wizard-and-jerry]

“Hello, I’m the friendly wizard _____. My name got taken by a fey prince but it hasn’t really hampered my life. Anyways I am new to this wider wizard community and would like to get along. I have a magic book, a cart, and a friend. His name is Jerry, he is a fungus colony that has taken over my magic book and acts sort of as my patron. He…is a little weird but great fun.”

*sound of an explosion in the background, a book flys by being chased by goblin shamans casting fire ball*

“He is…”

“He is fine.”

“Anyways, I am here to sell goods and make a small profit. If you need something I’ll see what I can do : ) ”

“Also apparently I helped smuggle an amnesiac @fattocatto-wizard out of the city in my wagon. That was a shock, though he was just a cat.

Character Cheat sheet

( 3 currency to 16 silver crowns and 2 copper crowns)

(3 skulls to a coin)

(2 currency to 1 gold)

(100 currency to a 1000 grams gold bar)

(1 currency per 10 grams of gold)

(Current balance 89,359.250,001 currency, one penny, 23 meat pucks, 14 pounds, 2 gold coins one with Julius Cesar on it, 3 naturally-grown mana stones, 2 highly enchant able metal pieces, and one bar, 1 special bug corpse, 1576.5 gold, silver 18, 70 aus, 5kg silver, magic dirt house size. 24 counterfeit currency. Moss/lichen-coded bio stone. An inverse cold torch. 99 BG silver. EMERALD LINCOLN, GOLDEN CARROT, 200 SALTED MEAT DISKS, 200 POLISHED ROCKS, 82 FIGET SPINNERS!, A FULLY EQUIPPED LICH'S DUNGEON, and a cardboard box (magic black marble).” Invisibility stone, a bundle of drake feathers, quantum locked rock, raw gold. 9 Gold coming from the green goblin empire, 50 mushrooms, 92 secret society emblem. 5 trans enchanted gold coins, 2 skull coin, ancient lost civilization fragment, 5 glistening green metallic coin, 31 writhing bugs of gold, jade coin. Pile of gold coins and gold coin bugs, pile of shines from harpy, dust, quantum glass shards, bag of tooth shaped candy, 6720 candies from the festival, bag of holding money bag, 68 money bags, 500 flat Foxen, double sided dollar coin, 3 floppies, a Brahman horn, a medkit, a few candy bars, and an umbrella, 130 goblins eggs (goblin cooked chicken eggs.), 17 bars of pure gold, 1 crate of guns, temp singularity potion. 762 grasshoppers glow in the dark.Book on the formation patterns of natural portals - @serious-tabaxi. Edward Evandrian’s expired library card. Gems and frenicx mother gem and a junkarian leap amethyst. white mithril sapling. Timeseed, infinite note book, time tunnel. A nice gold bag. bag full of candied scorpions 💰, large gem stone. 💰 💰 💰, gems = 70currency. 1/3rd a gold bar. Compass map, it's keyed to the Island of Silence. N=10^7 menger sponge. 2416 shadow cloaks, 52 shiny stones. 20$, 3 gold coins 100 grams. Gummy worms. 100 journals of Ventus Asamuran, Last Peacekeeper of Har Aminas. car keys, box of a 27 rusted necklaces with warding spells. an amulet made of stone, with blue rectangular crystals growing out of it. 48 shiny stones, 30 currency worth of silver. 3 sets of custom made chips @crickled-thorn-thug. Gold potion It opens a portal to the realm of metals! It causes any land within 20 feet to be transmuted, temporarily, into a variety of metals. If left untouched, the land reverts after a day. If harvested, the stuff stays metal and can be used. It also causes uhh 20 gold peices to spawn, and anyone within the radius to get a bit of vertigo. Causes slight iron deficiency, for some reason. 23 bouquets of metalic flowers. They're grown beneath volcanic chambers, uses the heat of magma as a supplement for sunlight. Given their environment, they grow petals sharper than claws and harder than steel. They can be used for creating armours and weapons. one box of nightmare inducing Mac and cheese)

(Currently holding baby dire bunnies. A ring of mana (covers energy into mana. Only suitable if you don’t have mana)

(Jerry’s balance 13 gold, a fancy rock, 1 coin, flower petals (snacks for later), harpy eyes, feathers, vocal cords, and talons, a coin with @informis-the-many-faced on it, it is locked away for emergencies. bottle of magic mold rejuvenation powder, wooden key @crickled-thorn-thug)

(Warlocks of Jerry @fungal-boy-witch-yay @ignisuadaroleplay @life-is-okay-rn2 I think that is who it was…)

(Possessions - wealth stone, Antidote stone)

Owner of membership cards

——————————

@the-final-knight-2

@confused-sorcerer

@bi-gender-sorcerer (+ 10% off for employee discount)

@the-mighty-dalob

@detectivewizzard

@goblin-wizard-in-the-making

@serious-tabaxi

@weltreths-wanderings

@ignisuadaroleplay (will)

@shittest-wizard-ever

@wizard-wylin-wylerian

@akronus-and-associates (the primordials)

—————————————

@hallowed-the-silver-gun

@jormungand-seas-champion

@crow-natures-wrath

@antros-ember-of-fear

@akronus-the-redeemed

@clockwork-time-watcher

@aldira-born-anew

——————————

@wizard-ghost

@yeast-wizard

@crickled-thorn-thug

@sorcererest-sorcerer

@damnable-druid (+ 10% off for employee discount)

@informis-the-many-faced

@kittycatwizard

@gun-sorcerer

@crime-wizard-conglomerate

———

Perks

———

5% off all purchases

Special requested items

More favorable bartering

———

[mothric]

yesterday i went to make chimichurri - specifically, my Argentine father's recipe - and discovered, to my great dismay, that I'd forgotten to buy fresh parsley, which is the main ingredient of chimichurri. i collapsed to the floor in dramatic despair, hand cast over my arm, when my roommate, my dear, sweet, extremely white roommate, asked "can't you just use dried parsley?"

in that moment I felt the pain an italian man feels when you break the spaghetti noodles in half. the dismay a polish person feels at beholding a store-bought paczki. the absolute indignance of a frenchman tasting hershey's for the first time and wondering how any sane person could possibly call it chocolate.

FRESH PARSLEY IS THE POINT, i shouted, you uncultured ninny i politely held back. YOU CANNOT SIMPLY REPLACE FRESH PARSLEY. it is what chimichurri IS!!! the chopping and crushing of the leaves and the mingling of its juices and aroma with the garlic and the vinaigrette is what makes it! there is nothing in dried parsley to CRUSH!!!!!

'what if you just mixed other herbs with garlic?' they supplied. 'and then you can still have some kind of sauce thing.'

my rage evaporated into blank apathy. they did not get it. they do not understand. a margherita pizza is not made with parmesan and mint leaves. chicken noodle soup is not made with pork tenderloin. a scrambled egg is not made by boiling it. how can i possibly make them understand when they have fallen so far from grace.

i will buy parsley tomorrow, i said. then you will see. then you will taste and smell. then you will understand.

chimichurri marinades in the fridge as i write this. i do not know if they will like it. may my ancestors give me strength