#potted chrysanthemum bunnings

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World building and theories of Engage

The dishes of Elusia tend to have the following features:

A way to preserve food in a climate that is not ideal for agriculture.

Apples and potatoes can easily be grown in Elusia's environment.

A snack for breaktime.

Cheap and quick to make for peasants

A way to use up ingredients before they spoil

Showpiece food / beautiful food

Blood Sausage - The recipe refers to the version made outside of the UK. The UK version of blood sausage is known as black pudding and is often filled out with oats and herbs. Blood Sausage is used to describe foreign variations. Blood Sausage is an example of a farmer not letting any part of an animal go to waste. In the Old Testament eating blood is prohibited, many people in Europe refrained from eating blood sausage for that reason. 

Meat Filled  Potato Rolls - This recipe can also be called ‘scalloped potatoes’. This recipe is made from pantry essentials and is quick and easy to cook. Pork is used more than beef because pigs are less labour intensive to raise. Onions were valued in the Middle Ages and could be used as currency to pay for things like rent. The onion and the potato are quick and easy to grow as well as tolerate to wet and wintry climates.

Potted Casserole - This recipe is based on ‘pottage’ which comes from the Old French meaning ‘food cooked in a pot'. It would be a staple food in Elusia and could be made using any ingredients available. The pot is kept over the fish for a few days, during this time some could be eaten and ingredients added. The pottage of the Somniel features fish, this means it is a dish associated with wealthier people. Poor peasants would rarely have the luxury of meat. 

Mushy Peas - This recipe would normally be an accompaniment for meat, fish or a potato based dish.  The advantage of peas is that they can be dried and stored all year, essential for a kingdom whose climate would only have short openings for farming certain crops. 

Sandwich Cake - The fish flower on top is likely to be a chrysanthemum since it was a common way to cut filleted fish in England in the Middle Ages. The sandwich cake is inspired by the Victorian Sponge Cake which started life as jam sandwiches coated in icing sugar. The sandwich can be filled with anything that can be put between slices of bread or bread variations. Why make a sandwich look like a cake? The reasons could be to celebrate an occasion, to show off or just for fun. 

Roasted Salmon - Salmon is both a freshwater and saltwater fish. Sea salmon is bigger than the inland equivalent. Salmon is a fish that could survive the cold environment of Elusia.

Mashed Potato Stew - This is another example of a pottage recipe which uses whatever ingredients are available. The mashed potato stew could be made into a ‘perpetual stew'. Whatever ingredients are available are cooked in a pot, the pot is never emptied and is replenished as necessary.

Salmon Potato Gratin - With French origins, this recipe comprises layered vegetables with lashings of cream and cheese. This recipe can be made as extravagant as an Elusian may desire but can also be a simple and inexpensive way to elevate the humble veg. It can be adapted to include ingredients available in each season. The salmon version of the gratin would be made during salmon season or a salmon run in a local stream.

Clover Salad - Red clover has been used as an animal feed throughout Europe since ancient times. In the Middle Ages, the English considered the red clover to be a symbol of wealth and good health. The stalks and leaves would make up the made body of the salad. The petals of the red clover are difficult to digest so would serve as a garnish. The seasoning could be vinegar, oils and juices. For the wealthy, salads could be presented as works of art. 

Fish and Bacon Pocket bun - This is a reference to a pasty. Any ingredients found around can be used to create a variant, there are even sweet and vegetarian versions. The uncooked fishing is placed upon a pastry circle then the pastry is folded to create a half circle shape and sealed shut at the edges by crimping. It could be sold as street food with sellers carrying baskets of the fast food to hungry travellers and workers, or it could be a way to use up ingredients. The crimped edges enable people whose jobs create dirty hands (miners, option creates, some magic experimentation), to eat the main body of the pasty without contaminating it. It is like a pasty handle made of pastry.

Jam Thumbprint Cookies - This recipe comes from the Swedish ‘Hallongrotta’, which translates to ‘raspberry caves'. They are quick and easy to bake treats. They were designed as a snack to have during a break, or ‘fika’ in Sweden, where a person can relax and form bonds.

Cinnamon Roll - All the Scandinavian countries will claim to have invented this sweet treat. In Elyso, cinnamon would be grown in Solm, perhaps Lythos, because of the suitable climates. This snack was designed to have during a break. 

Cabbage and Nut Salad - This recipe is a ‘coleslaw’ variation. Cabbage would be a substantial peasant food in Elusia because it is easy to grow in their climate and to store. In Medieval Europe the cabbage gained the reputation of smelling bad and having unpleasant side effects. The nut involved would most likely be the almond since it would grow in Elusia's environment, pine nuts and chestnuts could also be available. Wealthy people may use exported nuts such as pistachios or walnuts.

Open Faced Sandwich - In this recipe, the bread is the plate with ingredients laid on top. This recipe originated in Medieval Europe where The toppings would often be discarded because the bread would absorb the topping’s juices and become the yummiest part.The poor could make versions with stale bread and any ingredients they had available while the wealthy could afford extravagant and decorative variations. 

Apple Pudding Pie - This recipe is based on a cold ‘Apple Charlotte ‘. The name comes from Queen Charlotte who was a patron of Apple growers. It is believed that her chef baked her a version of the recipe made with a cream filling. This would have been a useful dish as it is a way to use up stale bread. The wealthy could add ingredients to create a lavish version. 

Puffy Pancakes - This recipe is a way to use up pantry ingredients before they rot. The fish could be sweet or savoury, depending on what accompanies the pancake. Wealthy Elusian's could add a little theatre to this dish by flambeing.

Sauteed Apples with Bacon - This is a recipe introduced to the rest of Europe by the Vikings. ‘Æbleflæsk’ is usually eaten on rye bread and is a good compliment to beer and snaps. 

Berry Jelly - In medieval English, the elite would enjoy a wide variety of jelly flavours shaped in elaborate moulds. I imagine a berry jelly in the shape of a rose or a wyvern gracing the table of the Elusian Royal Family.

Soda Bread - The origins of this recipe is from Native Americans but soda bread has become associated with the Irish. It is a simple, affordable and quick bake with only four ingredients. Soft wheat is better for quick breads and grow better in climates similar to Southern and Eastern Elusia. 

Candied Fruit - This recipe is the early version of a lollipop. It was a dish eaten by nobles as an expensive treat. 

Fruit Smoothie - Most fruit would be dried, pickled, candied or fermented in another way to perverse the fruit. A fruit smoothie would be quite an unusual drink in medieval times. It would be a way to use over ripened fruit.

 Apple Compote - This recipe could also be known as ‘Apple muse', the ‘muse’ means ‘mousse’ in this context, or ‘Applemoyse’. The recipe states that this dish is a beverage. The compote/mousse could be drunk and the texture would be thick and full of pulp. 

Orange Marmalade - This recipe would have been quite luxurious in Elusia. It is unlikely that oranges could grow in the climate (without magical assistance), so would be imported from elsewhere. Marmalade is one way of preserving the life of the fruit so the orange can be enjoyed for longer. 

Veggie Sticks - Without meal this could be considered a peasant's meal. This could also fall into the category of ‘snack to have during a break'. Ivy does seem the type of person to enjoy the Elusian version of ‘cafe culture', some veggie sticks and bean paste (humus) with a cup of black tea. 

 There are a few Pale Sand's dishes which are a reference to Kagetsu and his heritage but they do not originate from Elusia. 

[askwhatsforlunch]

Chrysanthemum Pot Kawai Cake

My Chrysanthemum Pot Kawai Cake might be a miniature Showstopper, but I think it’s rather effective, innit? Plus, it’s back to only the two of us now, so there was no need for a huge cake. I’m really happy with the flavours: Matcha, Anko and Sake, which are actually Japanese (unlike some of the buns the bakers presented under the tent!) and the light and airy texture, too. This would have won over Paul and Prue and Noel and Matt!

Ingredients (serves 4):

For the Whipped Sake White Chocolate Ganache

50 grams/ounces good quality white chocolate

3/4 cup double cream

1/2 vanilla bean

1 teaspoon good quality sake

For the Matcha Angel Food Cake

1/3 cup plain flour

2 tablespoons rice flour

1 tablespoon Matcha Green Tea Powder

2 tablespoons caster sugar

4 large egg whites

½ teaspoon salt

½ teaspoon cream of Tartar

½ teaspoon Homemade Vanilla Extract

1/3 cup caster sugar

about 6 heaped tablespoons Anko (Red Bean Paste)

red food colouring

yellow food colouring

2 blueberries

Break white chocolate into a medium bowl; set aside.

Pour double cream into a small saucepan. Scrape seeds off the vanilla bean, and add to the cream. Bring to a simmer over a low flame. Remove from the heat and stir in sake. Pour hot sake cream over the white chocolate, and cover with a lid, for a couple of minutes.

Then, stir energetically until you have a smooth, shiny, slack ganache. Chill in the refrigerator, at least an hour.

Preheat oven to 190°C/375°F. Butter a  deep round cake pan. Set aside.

In a medium bowl, sift plain flour, rice flour, Matcha Green Tea Powder and caster sugar together. Set aside.

In another medium bowl, beat egg whites, gradually increasing speed to high until soft peaks form. Add salt and cream of Tartar, and continue beating, gradually adding sugar, until stiff peaks form. Gently fold in Vanilla Extract with a rubber spatula. Then, gently fold in Matcha flour mixture, in three times, until completely blended.

Spoon batter carefully into prepared cake pan. Level well with rubber spatula, to avoid air pockets.

Place in the warm oven, and bake at 190°C/375°F, 20 to 25 minutes, until just  a light golden brown and sponge springs back when lightly touched. Let cool slightly, then turn over onto serving plate. Let cool completely.

With an electric mixer, beat cooled white chocolate ganache on high speed until paler in colour (almost white) and stiff peaks form. Spoon half of the whipped sake white chocolate ganache into a piping bag fitted with a large star nozzle.

Cut Matcha angel food cake horizontally, and place bottom halve onto serving plate. Spread an even layer Anko onto cake halve, and pipe whipped sake white chocolate ganache on top. Gently place cake top halve on top, very gently pressing. Again, gently spread a layer of Anko onto the cake.

Spoon two-thirds of the whipped sake white chocolate ganache into a bowl, and whisk in two drops red food colouring until well-bended and pale pink. Spoon into piping bag fitted with a large star nozzle. Pipe ganache into chrysanthemum flowers (sort of!) Then, whisk two drops yellow food colouring into remaining third of whipped sake white chocolate ganache, until well-blended and pale yellow. Spoon little blobs of ganache in the centre of each flower, to make the pollen.

Arrange blueberries onto the middle layer of ganache, to make the eyes.

And there you have your deliciously cute Chrysanthemum Pot Kawai Cake, which pairs well with a cup of green tea!

[jelantiahilma]

Seven Taboos About Potted Chrysanthemum You Should Never Share On Twitter | Potted Chrysanthemum

Seven Taboos About Potted Chrysanthemum You Should Never Share On Twitter | Potted Chrysanthemum – Chrysanthemums were first harvested in China as being a flowering herb as far back as the 15th millennium BC.[11] Over 500 cultivars had been recorded by simply 1630.[9] By the year 2014 it was estimated that there are now over something like 20, 000 cultivars in the world and about 7, 000 cultivars in The far east.[12] The plant is renowned as one of the Several Gentlemen in Chinese and East Wok cookware art. The plant is specially significant during the Dual Ninth Festival.

Chrysanthemum cultivation began with Japan during the Nara and Heian periods (early 8th to late 12th centuries), and gained acceptance in the Edo interval (early 17th for you to late 19th century). Many flower styles, colours, and kinds were created. That the flowers were harvested and shaped also developed, and chrysanthemum culture flourished. The actual Imperial Seal connected with Japan is a chrysanthemum and the institution from the monarchy is also called the Chrysanthemum Throne. A number of festivals and shows take place throughout The japanese in autumn in the event the flowers bloom. Chrysanthemum Day (菊の節句 Kiku no Sekku) is probably the five ancient sacred festivals. It is celebrated on the 9th morning of the 9th 30 days. It was started in 910, when the imperial court held its 1st chrysanthemum show.

Chrysanthemums entered American horticulture in 1798 any time Colonel John Stevens imported a cultivated variety known as ‘Dark Purple’ from England. The introduction had been part of an effort to build attractions within Elysian Fields in Hoboken, New Jersey.

Modern developed chrysanthemums are showier than their wild relatives. The floral heads occur in several forms, and can be daisy-like or decorative, just like pompons or keys. This genus includes many hybrids in addition to thousands of cultivars created for horticultural purposes. In addition to the traditional yellowish, other colors are available, such as white, crimson, and red. The most crucial hybrid is Chrysanthemum × morifolium (syn. C. × grandiflorum), derived primarily via C. indicum, but additionally involving other variety.

Over 140 cultivars of chrysanthemum get gained the Supérieur Horticultural Society’s Give of Garden Worthiness (confirmed 2017).[14]

Chrysanthemums are put into two basic organizations, garden hardy in addition to exhibition. Garden healthy mums are brand-new perennials capable of wintering in most northern latitudes. Exhibition varieties aren’t going to be usually as stable. Garden hardies are generally defined by all their ability to produce a good amount of small blooms with little if any mechanical assistance, such as staking, along with withstanding wind and also rain. Exhibition versions, though, require staking, overwintering in a fairly dry, cool surroundings, and sometimes the addition of nighttime lights.

The exhibit varieties can be used to develop many amazing herb forms, such as huge disbudded blooms, bottle of spray forms, and many artistically trained forms, for instance thousand-bloom, standard (trees), fans, hanging hampers, topiary, bonsai, and also cascades.

Chrysanthemum blooms are divided into 15 different bloom types by the US State Chrysanthemum Society, Inc., which is in keeping with the particular international classification technique. The bloom kinds are defined incidentally in which the ray in addition to disk florets are usually arranged. Chrysanthemum plants are composed of many specific flowers (florets), each one capable of producing a seed products. The disk florets are in the center of the bloom head, and the kitchen tools florets are on often the perimeter. The beam florets are considered imperfect flowers, as they just possess the female reproductive : organs, while the disc florets are considered ideal flowers, as they have both male and feminine reproductive organs.

Abnormal incurves are bred to produce a giant head called an ogiku. The disk florets are usually concealed in layers of curving kitchen tools florets that hang down to create a ‘skirt’. Regular incurves are very similar, but usually together with smaller blooms as well as a dense, globular application form. Intermediate incurve blossoms may have broader florets and a less densely flowered head.

From the reflex form, the disk florets are invisible and the ray florets reflex outwards to produce a mop-like appearance. The actual decorative form is comparable to reflex blooms, nevertheless the ray florets tend not to radiate at regarding green 90° angle to the stem.

The aigrette form is thoroughly double, of tiny size, and very globular in form. Sole and semidouble plants have exposed storage florets and one to help seven rows of kitchen tools florets. In the anemone form, the disk florets are prominent, usually raised and overshadowing the ray florets. The spoon-form drive florets are visible and the long, tubular ray florets are usually spatulate. In the search engine spider form, the disk florets are concealed, and the ray florets tend to be tube-like with connected or barbed finishes, hanging loosely throughout the stem. In the remember to brush and thistle variety, the disk florets might be visible.

In Okazaki , japan, a form of bonsai chrysanthemum was developed over the decades. The cultivated flower has a lifespan of 5 years and is usually kept in small size. Another method is to use pieces of inactive wood and the plant grows over the back along the wood to offer the illusion from the entrance that the miniature shrub blooms.

Get the Most Out of Potted Mums | My Garden Life – potted chrysanthemum | potted chrysanthemum

Seven Taboos About Potted Chrysanthemum You Should Never Share On Twitter | Potted Chrysanthemum – potted chrysanthemum | Welcome to help my personal website, in this moment We’ll teach you regarding keyword. And today, this can be a 1st photograph:

GROWER DIRECT – THUNDER BAY – potted chrysanthemum | potted chrysanthemum

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So, if you desire to receive all of these awesome pictures regarding (Seven Taboos About Potted Chrysanthemum You Should Never Share On Twitter | Potted Chrysanthemum), just click save icon to save these photos to your laptop. These are all set for download, if you like and want to take it, just click save symbol on the article, and it will be instantly downloaded in your laptop.} Finally if you would like gain new and the recent graphic related with (Seven Taboos About Potted Chrysanthemum You Should Never Share On Twitter | Potted Chrysanthemum), please follow us on google plus or save this blog, we try our best to provide regular update with all new and fresh photos. Hope you enjoy keeping right here. For many updates and recent information about (Seven Taboos About Potted Chrysanthemum You Should Never Share On Twitter | Potted Chrysanthemum) pics, please kindly follow us on tweets, path, Instagram and google plus, or you mark this page on bookmark section, We try to present you up-date periodically with all new and fresh pictures, enjoy your browsing, and find the right for you.

Grower Direct – Potted Plants – Chrysanthemum Potted Plant – potted chrysanthemum | potted chrysanthemum

Thanks for visiting our website, articleabove (Seven Taboos About Potted Chrysanthemum You Should Never Share On Twitter | Potted Chrysanthemum) published .  At this time we’re pleased to declare we have discovered a veryinteresting topicto be reviewed, that is (Seven Taboos About Potted Chrysanthemum You Should Never Share On Twitter | Potted Chrysanthemum) Most people looking for specifics of(Seven Taboos About Potted Chrysanthemum You Should Never Share On Twitter | Potted Chrysanthemum) and certainly one of these is you, is not it?

Pot Mum (Chrysanthemum morifolium) | My Garden Life – potted chrysanthemum | potted chrysanthemum

from WordPress https://liaflower.com/seven-taboos-about-potted-chrysanthemum-you-should-never-share-on-twitter-potted-chrysanthemum/

[liaflowerwall]

Seven Taboos About Potted Chrysanthemum You Should Never Share On Twitter | Potted Chrysanthemum

Seven Taboos About Potted Chrysanthemum You Should Never Share On Twitter | Potted Chrysanthemum – Chrysanthemums were first harvested in China as being a flowering herb as far back as the 15th millennium BC.[11] Over 500 cultivars had been recorded by simply 1630.[9] By the year 2014 it was estimated that there are now over something like 20, 000 cultivars in the world and about 7, 000 cultivars in The far east.[12] The plant is renowned as one of the Several Gentlemen in Chinese and East Wok cookware art. The plant is specially significant during the Dual Ninth Festival.

Chrysanthemum cultivation began with Japan during the Nara and Heian periods (early 8th to late 12th centuries), and gained acceptance in the Edo interval (early 17th for you to late 19th century). Many flower styles, colours, and kinds were created. That the flowers were harvested and shaped also developed, and chrysanthemum culture flourished. The actual Imperial Seal connected with Japan is a chrysanthemum and the institution from the monarchy is also called the Chrysanthemum Throne. A number of festivals and shows take place throughout The japanese in autumn in the event the flowers bloom. Chrysanthemum Day (菊の節句 Kiku no Sekku) is probably the five ancient sacred festivals. It is celebrated on the 9th morning of the 9th 30 days. It was started in 910, when the imperial court held its 1st chrysanthemum show.

Chrysanthemums entered American horticulture in 1798 any time Colonel John Stevens imported a cultivated variety known as ‘Dark Purple’ from England. The introduction had been part of an effort to build attractions within Elysian Fields in Hoboken, New Jersey.

Modern developed chrysanthemums are showier than their wild relatives. The floral heads occur in several forms, and can be daisy-like or decorative, just like pompons or keys. This genus includes many hybrids in addition to thousands of cultivars created for horticultural purposes. In addition to the traditional yellowish, other colors are available, such as white, crimson, and red. The most crucial hybrid is Chrysanthemum × morifolium (syn. C. × grandiflorum), derived primarily via C. indicum, but additionally involving other variety.

Over 140 cultivars of chrysanthemum get gained the Supérieur Horticultural Society’s Give of Garden Worthiness (confirmed 2017).[14]

Chrysanthemums are put into two basic organizations, garden hardy in addition to exhibition. Garden healthy mums are brand-new perennials capable of wintering in most northern latitudes. Exhibition varieties aren’t going to be usually as stable. Garden hardies are generally defined by all their ability to produce a good amount of small blooms with little if any mechanical assistance, such as staking, along with withstanding wind and also rain. Exhibition versions, though, require staking, overwintering in a fairly dry, cool surroundings, and sometimes the addition of nighttime lights.

The exhibit varieties can be used to develop many amazing herb forms, such as huge disbudded blooms, bottle of spray forms, and many artistically trained forms, for instance thousand-bloom, standard (trees), fans, hanging hampers, topiary, bonsai, and also cascades.

Chrysanthemum blooms are divided into 15 different bloom types by the US State Chrysanthemum Society, Inc., which is in keeping with the particular international classification technique. The bloom kinds are defined incidentally in which the ray in addition to disk florets are usually arranged. Chrysanthemum plants are composed of many specific flowers (florets), each one capable of producing a seed products. The disk florets are in the center of the bloom head, and the kitchen tools florets are on often the perimeter. The beam florets are considered imperfect flowers, as they just possess the female reproductive : organs, while the disc florets are considered ideal flowers, as they have both male and feminine reproductive organs.

Abnormal incurves are bred to produce a giant head called an ogiku. The disk florets are usually concealed in layers of curving kitchen tools florets that hang down to create a ‘skirt’. Regular incurves are very similar, but usually together with smaller blooms as well as a dense, globular application form. Intermediate incurve blossoms may have broader florets and a less densely flowered head.

From the reflex form, the disk florets are invisible and the ray florets reflex outwards to produce a mop-like appearance. The actual decorative form is comparable to reflex blooms, nevertheless the ray florets tend not to radiate at regarding green 90° angle to the stem.

The aigrette form is thoroughly double, of tiny size, and very globular in form. Sole and semidouble plants have exposed storage florets and one to help seven rows of kitchen tools florets. In the anemone form, the disk florets are prominent, usually raised and overshadowing the ray florets. The spoon-form drive florets are visible and the long, tubular ray florets are usually spatulate. In the search engine spider form, the disk florets are concealed, and the ray florets tend to be tube-like with connected or barbed finishes, hanging loosely throughout the stem. In the remember to brush and thistle variety, the disk florets might be visible.

In Okazaki , japan, a form of bonsai chrysanthemum was developed over the decades. The cultivated flower has a lifespan of 5 years and is usually kept in small size. Another method is to use pieces of inactive wood and the plant grows over the back along the wood to offer the illusion from the entrance that the miniature shrub blooms.

Get the Most Out of Potted Mums | My Garden Life – potted chrysanthemum | potted chrysanthemum

Seven Taboos About Potted Chrysanthemum You Should Never Share On Twitter | Potted Chrysanthemum – potted chrysanthemum | Welcome to help my personal website, in this moment We’ll teach you regarding keyword. And today, this can be a 1st photograph:

GROWER DIRECT – THUNDER BAY – potted chrysanthemum | potted chrysanthemum

What about picture above? is which wonderful???. if you think so, I’l d explain to you many image once again underneath:

How to Make Potted Mums Come Back | Home Guides | SF Gate – potted chrysanthemum | potted chrysanthemum

So, if you desire to receive all of these awesome pictures regarding (Seven Taboos About Potted Chrysanthemum You Should Never Share On Twitter | Potted Chrysanthemum), just click save icon to save these photos to your laptop. These are all set for download, if you like and want to take it, just click save symbol on the article, and it will be instantly downloaded in your laptop.} Finally if you would like gain new and the recent graphic related with (Seven Taboos About Potted Chrysanthemum You Should Never Share On Twitter | Potted Chrysanthemum), please follow us on google plus or save this blog, we try our best to provide regular update with all new and fresh photos. Hope you enjoy keeping right here. For many updates and recent information about (Seven Taboos About Potted Chrysanthemum You Should Never Share On Twitter | Potted Chrysanthemum) pics, please kindly follow us on tweets, path, Instagram and google plus, or you mark this page on bookmark section, We try to present you up-date periodically with all new and fresh pictures, enjoy your browsing, and find the right for you.

Grower Direct – Potted Plants – Chrysanthemum Potted Plant – potted chrysanthemum | potted chrysanthemum

Thanks for visiting our website, articleabove (Seven Taboos About Potted Chrysanthemum You Should Never Share On Twitter | Potted Chrysanthemum) published .  At this time we’re pleased to declare we have discovered a veryinteresting topicto be reviewed, that is (Seven Taboos About Potted Chrysanthemum You Should Never Share On Twitter | Potted Chrysanthemum) Most people looking for specifics of(Seven Taboos About Potted Chrysanthemum You Should Never Share On Twitter | Potted Chrysanthemum) and certainly one of these is you, is not it?

Pot Mum (Chrysanthemum morifolium) | My Garden Life – potted chrysanthemum | potted chrysanthemum

from WordPress https://liaflower.com/seven-taboos-about-potted-chrysanthemum-you-should-never-share-on-twitter-potted-chrysanthemum/

[qindaskurdi]

Seven Taboos About Potted Chrysanthemum You Should Never Share On Twitter | Potted Chrysanthemum

Seven Taboos About Potted Chrysanthemum You Should Never Share On Twitter | Potted Chrysanthemum – Chrysanthemums were first harvested in China as being a flowering herb as far back as the 15th millennium BC.[11] Over 500 cultivars had been recorded by simply 1630.[9] By the year 2014 it was estimated that there are now over something like 20, 000 cultivars in the world and about 7, 000 cultivars in The far east.[12] The plant is renowned as one of the Several Gentlemen in Chinese and East Wok cookware art. The plant is specially significant during the Dual Ninth Festival.

Chrysanthemum cultivation began with Japan during the Nara and Heian periods (early 8th to late 12th centuries), and gained acceptance in the Edo interval (early 17th for you to late 19th century). Many flower styles, colours, and kinds were created. That the flowers were harvested and shaped also developed, and chrysanthemum culture flourished. The actual Imperial Seal connected with Japan is a chrysanthemum and the institution from the monarchy is also called the Chrysanthemum Throne. A number of festivals and shows take place throughout The japanese in autumn in the event the flowers bloom. Chrysanthemum Day (菊の節句 Kiku no Sekku) is probably the five ancient sacred festivals. It is celebrated on the 9th morning of the 9th 30 days. It was started in 910, when the imperial court held its 1st chrysanthemum show.

Chrysanthemums entered American horticulture in 1798 any time Colonel John Stevens imported a cultivated variety known as ‘Dark Purple’ from England. The introduction had been part of an effort to build attractions within Elysian Fields in Hoboken, New Jersey.

Modern developed chrysanthemums are showier than their wild relatives. The floral heads occur in several forms, and can be daisy-like or decorative, just like pompons or keys. This genus includes many hybrids in addition to thousands of cultivars created for horticultural purposes. In addition to the traditional yellowish, other colors are available, such as white, crimson, and red. The most crucial hybrid is Chrysanthemum × morifolium (syn. C. × grandiflorum), derived primarily via C. indicum, but additionally involving other variety.

Over 140 cultivars of chrysanthemum get gained the Supérieur Horticultural Society’s Give of Garden Worthiness (confirmed 2017).[14]

Chrysanthemums are put into two basic organizations, garden hardy in addition to exhibition. Garden healthy mums are brand-new perennials capable of wintering in most northern latitudes. Exhibition varieties aren’t going to be usually as stable. Garden hardies are generally defined by all their ability to produce a good amount of small blooms with little if any mechanical assistance, such as staking, along with withstanding wind and also rain. Exhibition versions, though, require staking, overwintering in a fairly dry, cool surroundings, and sometimes the addition of nighttime lights.

The exhibit varieties can be used to develop many amazing herb forms, such as huge disbudded blooms, bottle of spray forms, and many artistically trained forms, for instance thousand-bloom, standard (trees), fans, hanging hampers, topiary, bonsai, and also cascades.

Chrysanthemum blooms are divided into 15 different bloom types by the US State Chrysanthemum Society, Inc., which is in keeping with the particular international classification technique. The bloom kinds are defined incidentally in which the ray in addition to disk florets are usually arranged. Chrysanthemum plants are composed of many specific flowers (florets), each one capable of producing a seed products. The disk florets are in the center of the bloom head, and the kitchen tools florets are on often the perimeter. The beam florets are considered imperfect flowers, as they just possess the female reproductive : organs, while the disc florets are considered ideal flowers, as they have both male and feminine reproductive organs.

Abnormal incurves are bred to produce a giant head called an ogiku. The disk florets are usually concealed in layers of curving kitchen tools florets that hang down to create a ‘skirt’. Regular incurves are very similar, but usually together with smaller blooms as well as a dense, globular application form. Intermediate incurve blossoms may have broader florets and a less densely flowered head.

From the reflex form, the disk florets are invisible and the ray florets reflex outwards to produce a mop-like appearance. The actual decorative form is comparable to reflex blooms, nevertheless the ray florets tend not to radiate at regarding green 90° angle to the stem.

The aigrette form is thoroughly double, of tiny size, and very globular in form. Sole and semidouble plants have exposed storage florets and one to help seven rows of kitchen tools florets. In the anemone form, the disk florets are prominent, usually raised and overshadowing the ray florets. The spoon-form drive florets are visible and the long, tubular ray florets are usually spatulate. In the search engine spider form, the disk florets are concealed, and the ray florets tend to be tube-like with connected or barbed finishes, hanging loosely throughout the stem. In the remember to brush and thistle variety, the disk florets might be visible.

In Okazaki , japan, a form of bonsai chrysanthemum was developed over the decades. The cultivated flower has a lifespan of 5 years and is usually kept in small size. Another method is to use pieces of inactive wood and the plant grows over the back along the wood to offer the illusion from the entrance that the miniature shrub blooms.

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[cynicalwonders]

Glass Slippers

Revamping the entire fic after a year of hiatus. Thought I also post it up here on my tumblr as well. Currently re-writing ch.1. This is the prologue.

Modern Princess!Marinette

Original prompt by @lovelyblogtime

"Hǎo yī duǒ měi lì de mò li huā, Hǎo yī duǒ měi lì de mò li huā. Fēn fāng měi lì mǎn zhī yā, yòu xiāng yòu bái rén rén kuā – oh!"

Five-year-old Marinette smiled as she shoved her tiny, hand-picked bouquet into the woman’s face. “For you, grandma,” she chirped, waving the magnolias and pink chrysanthemums in her tiny fist. “Do you like it?”

Chuckling, the slender, fair-skinned woman smiled as she picked up her granddaughter and place her on her lap, shoving the guzheng to the side. “They’re beautiful my little, húdié,” she plucked one of the flowers and tucked it behind her ear. “Thank you.”

“That word means ‘butterfly’, right? That’s what mama says,” Marinette asked, plunking the strings of the guzheng and producing off-key notes.

“Correct. Húdié means ‘butterfly' because you are my beautiful, free-spirited little butterfly. Fluttering around the world, enchanting everyone with your beauty and grace,” her grandmother cooed.

Marinette laughed as her grandmother, Cheng Xi-Feng, pressed kisses onto her temple. Despite being in her mid-fifties, Xi-Feng possessed the beauty and grace of someone half her age. The elder woman fiddled with her granddaughter’s hair, removing her ivory comb to secure her braided bun. All the while, little Marinette was tracing the outline of the embroidered phoenixes along her sleeve.

“What are these birdies?” she asked.

“Those are phoenixes. Powerful birds made of flames that reborn themselves from their ashes,” Xi-Feng answered. “They represent the might of the empress. Although…I much prefer the all-mighty dragon as my creature.”

Marinette tilted her head as she examined the embroidered animal. Xi-Feng could tell her granddaughter was more interested in the image than its meaning but was eager to indulge her curiosity. Sad that she couldn’t have met Xi-Feng’s oldest and dearest friend. He was far more knowledgeable about such subjects. She had no doubt that Marinette would have adored him as she had herself.

“When will mommy and daddy come back from their trip outside?” asked Marinette, glancing up at her.

“Once Brother Wang finishes collecting all the ingredients he needs for tonight’s feast,” replied Xi-Feng. “Well, that and your mother and father were quite adamant about sampling the local delicacies in Beijing. Probably looking for something exotic to serve in their bakery back home.”

“Mooncakes!” Marinette suggested. “Ice cream mooncakes!”

Xi-Feng laughed. “Ice cream mooncakes sounds delicious right about now.”

On cue, several footsteps were heard running away from the pair, heading towards the western area of the land. Ice cream mooncakes would take a while to be made from the imperial kitchen so Xi-Feng suggested a walk in the garden in order to stretch their limbs. Hand in hand, the pair stepped outside the pavilion and into the jungle of freshly blooming flora.

The Pavilion of Ten Thousand Spring sat at the east of the Imperial Garden – a massive collection of plants both native and non-native to the region of China. Many of the original plants that were cultivated centuries ago encompassed the landscape. Others were gifts from allied nations used as tokens of appeasement and to place a piece of their country within its walls. Newly constructed rivers cut through the paths carrying multiple colored carps throughout the area. Xi-Feng kept a tight grip on Marinette's arm to prevent her from accidentally jumping to see the fishes.

“Careful,” Xi-Feng sternly warned. “You wouldn’t want to get that lovely daxiushan of yours getting wet.”

“I’m careful,” she pouted, grabbing a fistful of her skirt in her hands. “Let’s go see more of your garden!”

Marinette slipped out of her grandmother’s hand and ran down the center path. Xi-Feng shook her head in good nature as she calmly followed the tiny girl. She made a gesture towards her granddaughter and the guard stationed behind the pavilion ran out after her. How fortunate was she to have dozens of guards surrounding the perimeter? Made chasing after an energetic five-year-old much easier.

Up ahead, Marinette lost herself among the flowers and shrubbery. Her attention was captured by a particularly large jasmine shrub growing near an upright rock formation. With its sweet aroma, Marinette tried to climb into the patch, getting down to crawl inside. Unfortunately for the playful child, a large hand on her shoulder halted before she could start crawling

Looming over her, much taller than the jasmine shrub, was one of the men that continuously followed her grandmother. He glanced at her then up towards the jasmine and shook his head. "Non," he said and gently pulled her back out. Marinette sighed but didn’t argue. Her grandmother appears in the next moment and thanks in the man in Chinese before dismissing him.

“Was someone doing something naughty?” Xi-Feng gave a playful smile.

Marinette reciprocated that smile. “Maybe~” she replied back in a sing-song tone.

Xi-Feng wagged her finger at her. “Bad girl. Remember, one must always be respectful when in someone else’s home. Especially in the gardens.”

“I just wanted to see the flowers more closely,” Marinette explained as she pointed towards the jasmine bush.

“Even if the flowers are pretty, you can’t just go where you like. You have to ask first.” Xi-Feng took hold of her granddaughter’s hand. “You’re just like your mother when she was your age. You even went towards her jasmine patch.”

"Those are mommy's flowers?"

Xi-Feng nodded. “Your mother loves jasmine. Planted this bush herself when she was just a bit older than you.”

“Did you and mommy plant all these flowers, grandma?”

“No my húdié. Most of these plants have been here long before I was born," Xi-Feng answered. "Cultivated by the most talented gardeners and passed down through generations. Some are gifts, like the frangipani and the bottlebrushes, but most are from our ancestors.”

“What about you?” Marinette asked, gently pulling at her grandmother’s arm. “Did you plant something?”

"Yes, China roses. Would you like to see?"

Marinette squealed and rapidly nodded her head. She all but dragged her grandmother towards a random direction in search of the roses until Xi-Feng led her down the correct path. The Gate of Earthly Tranquility separated the garden from the palace of the same name as well as the rest of the city. Its stone and brick walkway overflowed with decorative shrubbery. Leading up to the stairs were two brightly colored pink shrubs that more resembled fireworks shooting outwards than normal plants.  

Once Xi-Feng pointed them out, Marinette raced over towards them. The elder woman smiled as her granddaughter gently touch the flowers and smell them. So carefree, so innocent, turning back to her and motioned for her grandmother to join her. Moments like these made Xi-Feng forget the burden of her position.

Spending time with Marinette, swapping stories with Sabine and her husband, it gave her a sense of normalcy. As though she was just a normal mother and grandmother having her daughter’s family coming over to visit. But those illusions were quickly shattered by the appearance of a guard circling the area or a group of servants coming over with golden platters.

‘One must never forget who they are,’ Xi-Feng thought as she picked a chocolate mooncake from the tray. ‘Or what they possess.’

She glanced at her granddaughter happily eating her treat. ‘Best thing I can do is keep my distance from them. Make it easier for them to live without fear.’

After finishing their snacks, Xi-Feng sent the servants away while she was left along with her granddaughter among the plants. “You’re lucky that you have your own garden, grandma,” remarked Marinette. “All we have are the potted plants on the roof at our house.”

“Oh don’t be so upset. I’m sure those plants are just as lovely,” Xi-Feng replied.

“Nuh-uh! They’re really tiny and your flowers are so big!” Marinette threw her hands up in exclamation.

Xi-Feng giggled before leaning closer. "Do you want to know a secret? I used magic to make all the plants here grow bigger.”

“Really?” Marinette eyes grew wide.

“Oh yes. You see I had a friend,” she whispered. “He was a dragon!”

“A dragon…” Marinette looked at her in amazement. She glanced around and pointed at the bronze statue depicting the creature. “Like that one?”

“Oh no! You see, my dragon wasn’t big or angry-looking like that one. He was actually really, really tiny. No bigger than a mouse,” Xi-Feng used her thumb and pointing finger to give a height of a few inches. “He was red with glowing yellow eyes and horns all over his head.”

"He sounds scary…but he's really tiny?" Marinette pursed her lips in confusion. Obviously, she couldn't comprehend an often vicious-looking creature being so small.

“He was actually very kind and helpful. He was my best friend,” Xi-Feng gave a wistful smile but it faded away. “Sadly, he had to leave me a few years ago.”

“Why? Did he move away?” Marinette asked.

“In a way…” she answered before she composed herself. “But he helped with a lot of things. Like my garden. When I was your age, he would use his magic to make the flowers enormous! We would play and explore and he very good at playing hide and seek. He would always find me but I could never find him. The two of us would just play among the green for days on end.”

“He sounds nice. I wish I could have met him,” her granddaughter smiled.

“Yes, I wish you could have,” Xi-Feng agreed.

"Xi-Feng nǚhuáng," the two turned around to see a bowing attendant at the top of the steps, her eyes never leaving the ground, "Zhèngfǔ guānyuán yāoqiú nǐ chūxí."

"Hěn hǎo. Nǐ kěyǐ líkāi," replied Xi-Feng.

The attendant bowed again before returning towards the entrance doors of the palace. Rising up, Xi-Feng held out her hand towards her granddaughter. "It seems I've been called to yet another boring meeting.”

“Aww, but you just had a meeting this morning!” whined Marinette, stomping her feet. “You even missed papa’s famous pancakes!”

“I know, I know,” Xi-Feng rubbed her granddaughter’s shoulders in an attempt to placate her. “But you know I cannot miss these meetings. It’s part of my job.”

“But you never have enough time to spend with me and mom,” tears of frustration collected in the corners of the little girl’s eye.

“‘Mother and I,’” corrected Xi-Feng. “And you know there is nothing I want more than to see you every day and to spend all my time with you. But as long as I’m in China, I must fulfill my duties with the government.”

“Then come to Paris with me!” Marinette concluded. “If you have to do all that boring stuff when you’re in China then you can come live with me and mommy and papa in Paris! Our gardens are just as nice as yours.”

Xi-Feng, giving a weak smile, shook her head. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way, my dear.”

“Why not?!” Marinette was getting more and more frustrated. “You have a plane. Can’t you just fly out?”

"My húdié, you don’t know how many times I’ve wished I could get on a plane, whether it be mine or commercial, to go visit you in Paris," began Xi-Feng.

"Then why don't you?" Marinette lips quivered.

"I wish I could explain it to you, my dear, truly I do," stated Xi-Feng, "But you’re too young to completely understand the gravity of the situation. I can't leave China freely. The government won't allow it. I'm too important to abandon my post. People will notice if I was gone. They’ll start searching and they’ll discover you and your mother."

"Why is that so bad?" Marinette didn’t understand why she couldn't tell people who her grandmother was. Sabine had forbidden her from ever speaking about her grandmother with other people.

"You can mention you have a grandma, but you can't tell anyone about her," her mother had told her, "Just tell them that she lives in China."

"Why are mom and me a secret?"

"Mom and I," corrected Xi-Feng, "And you'll understand when you're older."

"Why can't you tell me now?" mumbled Marinette.

Xi-Feng kissed Marinette on the top of her head before picking her up and carrying in her arms. "Marinette, we don't tell you these things to hurt you, we just want to protect you. I know it doesn't seem this way for now, but as you get older and wiser, you'll finally understand."

"…okay," Marinette replied dejectedly.

With her granddaughter in tow, Xi-Feng crossed the threshold into the gates, her servants and bodyguards not too far behind. "Don’t worry. One day, we’ll both be free of these burdens and we can visit each other freely. You’ll see.”

“When?”

“…soon, hopefully.”

"One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. Lift your chin! Back straight!" ordered the tight-faced older woman, dressed in all black. She used her cane to lightly tap underneath Marinette's chin upwards. "Good. Now repeat the steps."

           “Yes, Lian lǎo shī,” replied Marinette, fixing her ballet slippers before returning to the starting position.

           “From the top,” commanded Madame Lian before turning to the nearby musician holding a pipa lute. “Start.”

           Just as the music flowed from the strings, everything was halted by three sharp raps at the door. Lian huffed indignantly allowing the visitor to enter. A young maid timidly entered the room, head down as she refused to look directly at the angry ballet instructor.

"Marinette gōngzhǔ," she squeaked, glancing up to meet Marinette’s eyes. "Her Imperial Highness has asked that you join her for dinner tonight. Shall I have the servants spread out your garments and dress you at 5?"

"Yes please," smiled Marinette. "And thank you, Ju."

“Will that be all?” questioned Lian, tapping her foot. Once the maid nodded, Lian shooed her out the door before turning back to Marinette. “Back to the lesson. Music, please.”

Sighing, Marinette complied and went through her routine, her instructor nitpicking her performance from start to finish. As a child, she envied the grace and poise of ballerinas, how they danced across a stage. So much so that she would mimic them from time to time. Same with the whole ‘princess walk' thing where she would place several books on her head and tried to walk across rooms without dropping them. But the actual practice was very boring and tedious. Or, in the case of ballet, painful. By the end of it, she would be soaking her feet in ice for a good hour or so.

And she considered these ‘fun’ lessons.

Long gone were the days where she and her grandmother would traverse the gardens of the palace. Now those days were replaced with lesson plans, multiple fittings, and traditional Chinese education. Etiquette lessons and ballet with Lian were a daily event, followed by literature, calligraphy, geography, Mandarin – though that was swiftly abandoned after about a year of awkward mispronunciations – music, sewing, and combat. That last one wasn't typically taught to females but her grandmother insisted on it.

She blamed the advisors who had pushed her grandmother into agreeing with all of this. They said it was beneficial for her, to ‘teach her what her mother, her mother's mother, and her ancestors have been taught for generations.' Even though she wasn't directly in line for the throne, they believed that she must take part in the duties of a noble lady. Marinette only hoped that those ‘duties’ didn’t end in an arranged marriage.

And thus her once excitable trips to China turned into a mixture of dread and isolation. Security had tightened during the years, confiding her to her palace when outside guests and diplomats visited. Though she did meet a few children of said diplomats, they didn't stick around much afterward and rarely kept in contact. Despite being surrounded by bodyguards and servants and teachers, Marinette became very lonely.

Even her cousins, Shen and Tingzhe, rarely got to see her due to all their schedules being meticulously managed down to the last second. It was understandable, one of them would end up the emperor after their father. But it was tough to even speak with them without first consulting their assistant and setting up an appointment. She really wished she was kidding about that.

But she pressed on, not wanting to seem ungrateful and tackled every lesson and teaching she was given. By the time she hit her teens, her knowledge of the country, culture, and customs went from mediocre to slightly above average. In Paris, she was just old clumsy Marinette – a normal girl living above her family's bakery with dreams of becoming a famous fashion designer. In China, Marinette became a ‘proper, traditional Chinese maiden' – elegant, polite, graceful and respectable, basically what the advisors wanted her to be. Not as well taught as previous princesses before her, but enough for the advisors to get off her back and put all their focus onto her cousins.

Which was fine with her!

Of course, she didn’t just drop all her classes the minute the advisors said they found her satisfactory. Marinette continued the ones she enjoyed, like ballet and music. Martial arts – the lesson her grandmother pushed on her – was by far her favorite. Xi-Feng insistent that her grandchildren learn how to defend themselves should the need arises. It was interesting, to say the least. Learning how to take down a man twice her size really got one’s blood pumping.

“Good, good,” Lian nodded as Marinette finished her routine. “Next time, turn at your ankle, not at your waist when you spin.”

“Yes, Lian lǎo shī,” replied Marinette almost robotically. Best to just listen to Lian and agree then try to complain. Marinette knew that well after years under her “Well,” Lian stomped her cane on the wooden floor – her signal for ending the class. “This concludes today's lesson. I'll be back tomorrow at 1 pm on the dot. I'll let the monks outside know you'll be coming to their lesson next. Try not to strain your legs when you're fighting or, gods forbid, break them."

Marinette bowed her head sheepishly. “Understood.”

Lian bowed before snapping her fingers and the musician followed her out the door. Marinette let out a sigh of relief and quickly changed into her blue robes. Four Shaolin monks were already standing in front of the gate. The eldest monk, her main instructor, stepped forward and bowed. She reciprocated it.

“Good evening, Marinette gōngzhǔ,” he greeted. “We’ll be going over the basics today. Nothing too strenuous. Do not want to bring upon the wrath of Lian on you.”

He chuckled a bit before leading the group towards the training grounds for her lesson.

And so the years went on: Xi-Feng always busy with business-related work, her cousins in deep study and the rest of her family separated in the large city the Chengs called home. By that time, Marinette fully started to understand who her grandmother was and what she did for China. The importance of her grandmother and her and her mother’s relations hit her like a ton of bricks.

What would happen if such knowledge was made public? What would become of her quiet and peaceful life back in Paris? How would people treat her if they knew? What sorts of changes will occur once the world knew? She speculated – and the results were never pleasant.

The best thing she could do was keep her mouth shut.

Her only hope is that by the time her identity was revealed – if it was revealed at all – she would have lived pass the time when it could have drastically impacted her life. By then it wouldn't have mattered as much as she would be further down from the line of secession. Sure she would probably have had to deal with noisy reporters, gossip blogs and possible fame-hungry ‘friends’, but that’ll die down after a while.

For now, Marinette was content with visiting her grandmother and keeping their relationship hidden. Better for everyone, especially for her. She didn't want the attention or the fame or the status of being a princess. Marinette was content with her simple, day-to-day life free of schedules, looming bodyguards, and possible marriage plans.

And for the time being, it was pretty easy to stay hidden. Cheng is a fairly common surname in China so it didn't raise any obvious flags. And since Sabine never made herself or her name public everyone assumed she was just a normal Chinese foreigner who immigrated to Paris as a young adult. No one ever imagines that the daughter of the empress would just walk away from her privileged life to marry a baker. No, that only happens in stories.

Besides, she had seen what a sheltered life had done for Adrien.

Yeah, she’ll pass on that.

Earlier this month, Xi-Feng publicly announced that she would be stepping down within the next two years. Her son, Jianguo, will be crown emperor of China. Public focus would soon turn on them as they begin their reign. Good thing for Marinette since she would be ‘out of the running' – so to speak – for the throne and forgotten. Unless both her uncle and cousins were unable to rule which she doubts that would ever happen.

Besides she was the foreign daughter. The daughter with mixed blood. Not that Tom Dupain was treated with hostility when he married Sabine. At least not much – mainly due to his class status. It’s just the ministers preferred a pure-blooded princess to continue the bloodline rather than a half-Chinese half-French female. Even with an empress that is loved and hailed as a savior, there were some that still kept the traditional gender and race bias.

Whatever, it wasn’t Marinette’s issue.

As far as anyone was concerned, Marinette Dupain-Cheng had no relations with Empress Cheng Xi-Feng of China.

"Hǎo yī duǒ měi lì de mò li huā,” Marinette sang soften as she struck her needle through a piece of silk fabric. “Hǎo yī duǒ měi lì de mò li huā. Fēn fāng měi lì mǎn zhī yā, yòu xiāng yòu bái rén rén kuā.”

“Marinette? Are you speaking…Chinese?” questioned Tikki. “I thought you didn’t know Chinese?”

"Huh? Oh! No, no, that's just a song my grandmother used to sing to me," replied Marinette, looking up from her design. "She always sang it to me whenever I visit, to the point it got stuck in my head. I honestly don't know what the words even mean. I just know the song is called the Jasmine Flower."

“It’s pretty!” Tikki said, landing on top of her wielder’s head.

“Yeah, I think so too,” the pigtailed girl smiled.

"Marinette!" the muffled voice of Sabine echoed through the room, "Marinette, come downstairs. There’s a package for you."

'Package?' thought Marinette as she set aside the embroidery she was working on.

Marinette made her way downstairs to see her petite mother hauling in two large boxes covered in tape and stamps. She quickly ran over and took the top box into her arms.

"Thanks, sweetie. That one is yours," Sabine gesture to the box her daughter just took. “Your grandmother sent it.”

“Grandma?” Marinette perked up. Glancing at the return address she saw a bunch of Chinese letters.

Yep, definitely from China, hence from grandma Xi-Feng.

"Thanks, mom! I'll open it upstairs," said Marinette as she ran back up to her room, shutting the trap door behind her.

Tikki, still fluttering in the air, swirled around the girl and her newly brought package. Marinette wasted no time putting it down on her worktable and started rummaging around for something sharp.

"The box cutter is in the left drawer," Tikki pointed it out. “So your grandmother sent this gift? Grandma Gina?”

“No, not my dad’s mom, my mom’s…mom,” Marinette explained. “She lives in China with my uncle, aunt, and cousins. My parents and I go to visit them every year. Usually, she would send us gifts in the mail."

“What’s the occasion?”

"No occasion, just a gift. Aha, ~!" Lifting the box cutters up from their hiding spot, Marinette swiftly cut across the cardboard, breaking the seal.

Digging through the flood of packing peanuts revealed a smaller intricate gift box decorated with various Chinese patterns and characters. Inside was a beautiful handmade qípáo, or cheongsam. Intricately woven lace wrapped around the upper half of the torso and created cap sleeves. The lace fused with the silk at the waist forming a trumpet skirt that stopped at the ground, leaving a train of lace at the back.

“Gorgeous!” gushed Tikki, circling the dress. “Your grandmother must have paid a lot of money to buy this for you!”

'Or she asked the royal seamstress to make me another qípáo in red this time,' Marinette thought as she carefully pulled the garment from the box.

Marinette didn’t want to tell the little kwami that this was actually her sixth qípáo her grandmother had sent to her in the past few years. Just a month ago Xi-Feng had sent her a blue ruqun along with a collection of lovely handcrafted hairpins, combs, and clips. Marinette held the dress up to the mirror, imagining herself wearing it. Maybe to a fancy gala or a fashion show.

‘I could wear it when I visit grandma again this year,’ Marinette thought.

Sabine had planned for their family to visit her mother for Christmas this year. They would stay for three weeks, celebrating the Winter Solstice and leaving after New Year’s Day. Xi-Feng hosted small gatherings during each celebration. Members of the family and royal courts only, free to mingle within the city wall. No reporters. No camera. Just her and her family and the staff – all sworn to secrecy.

Although…

Marinette side-eyed Tikki. ‘I’ll probably have to tell Tikki about my grandma’s ‘occupation’ before we leave. That way I don’t have to explain the private jet or the limo or the palace…’

“You should thank her for the gift,” said Tikki, snapping Marinette out of her thoughts.

“I should. Let me go call her,” Marinette agreed as she carefully folded her dress back in the box before heading downstairs. “Mom, do you mind if I call grandma?”

“Of course,” replied Sabine, admiring the silver and turquoise earring and necklace she was gifted. Both were crafted to look like dragons wrapping around her ear and neck. “Let me go grab the phone.”

First rule of the Dupain-Cheng household: if you wish to contact family in China, you must use the secure, government cellphone. Since Sabine Cheng, formally known as Sabine Cheng gōngzhǔ, was technically NOT removed from the Cheng family, only in hiding due to her marriage, any connection from her family to Xi-Feng had to be through secured connections. And by ‘secured measures’, it meant Fort Knox times Area 51 type of security. At least that’s how her cousin explained it.

One of the ‘secured measures’ was a Chinese government issued phone protected by some of the most sophisticated security equipment on the planet. It had a design similar to that of a smartphone but thicker and heavier with a fingerprint scanner encrypted passcode. Only Sabine and Marinette’s fingerprints could open it. Extreme but necessary.

After her mother retrieved the phone, Marinette placed her index finger on the center of the screen as the screen scan her print before it opened. It didn’t take long for her to punch in the numbers before a familiar voice angered.

“Hello.”

"Ni hao, wài pó," replied Marinette, hoping she didn't butcher her Chinese greeting.

"I see you've been studying," Xi-Feng said, speaking fluent French. "A bit shaky on the pronunciation but I'm glad you’re finally learning your motherland's language again."

"It's a …a lot harder than I thought," she admitted sheepishly.

After the Kung Food incident last year with her great uncle, Marinette thought it would be best if she finally started learning Mandarin again. Not just so Marinette could learn her mother’s language and make it up to the servants who had learn French for her, but to avoid another future mishap.

And by ‘mishap,’ she meant having Alya call Adrien out of the blue and making her look like an awkward idiot.

“They’re just so many characters to learn and trying to keep track of which is which…” Marinette rambled.

Xi-Feng’s laughed echoed through the speaker. “I know, I know, but have patience. Soon you’ll be able to speak and converse with me in perfect Mandarin, my little húdié!"

Marinette winced at her grandmother’s pet name for her. Before Tikki and the Miraculous business, she loved when her grandmother called her ‘butterfly.’ It had been her nickname since as long as she could remember. Now with the akumas and Hawkmoth running around, it sounded less cute and sweet and just a bit sinister. But despite the uncomfortable feeling she got from being called butterfly, Marinette didn’t have the heart to ask her grandmother to stop.

“I hope so,” chuckled Marinette awkwardly before picking herself back up. “Anyway, I wanted to call to thank you for the dress you sent me. It’s absolutely beautiful. Send my regards to Xue for her work. She really needs to teach me how she creates her laceworks.”

"I'll see that she gives a lesson when you visit again. I – oh! Hold on, my dear."

Marinette heard a bit of static before her grandmother’s voice shouted in rapid Mandarin to someone nearby. “Cheng Shen, get Bella back in her cage! Why is she out? She’s frightening the maids.”

“I apologize, grandmother,” answered a male voice. “The lock was very weak and she broke free. I’ve called for the lock to be replaced so she won’t do it again.”

“This better not happen again! Apologize to the maids as well, poor things almost fainted when they saw Bella roaming the halls,” berated Xi-Feng. “And speaking of troublemakers, where is your brother?”

“…Koi pond.”

“He better be appreciating them and not fishing in it again,” replied the elder woman. “Those were gifts from the Japanese envoy!”

Marinette giggled as she heard her grandmother going back and forth with Shen. Despite not understanding a word they were saying, she could tell her grandmother was angry and scolding at Shen. Most likely to do with Bella, his pet and gift from their grandmother Gina. She could probably guess that she either got out of her cage or was leaving scratch marks on the wooden tiled floor.

“Sorry about that, dear,” Xi-Feng replied, back on the line. “Shen had an issue with Bella and I’m hoping that Tingzhe isn’t messing with the fishes again. Hopefully, no problems more will pop up for today."

“Tell them and Uncle Jianguo and Aunt Mei I said hello," Marinette asked.

“I’ll be sure to have them call you back later today,” her grandmother replied. “Now enough about our boring lives, how’s everything in Paris? Are you keeping up with your school work? Do you still have an issue with that ‘Chloe’ girl?”

For the next half hour, Marinette chatted away with her grandmother, swapping stories and generally catching up with one another after months apart. Xi-Feng bid her granddaughter goodbye as she had to attend a meeting with the officials from the financial affairs department.

“Give your mother my regards. Until we meet again,” ended Xi-Feng.

Marinette ended the call and stored the phone back in it’s hiding place before returning to her room and to Tikki. The little kwami was busying herself with a near-empty plate of cookies.

“Sounds like you and your grandmother are really close,” remarked Tikki. “More so than you and Gina. How come I haven’t heard of her before?”

“Because she lives in China all her life and can’t really leave the country," she explained. "You see, my mom's family is kind of…'important.' My grandmother can't step foot outside China while my aunt, uncle, and cousins can leave but not for extended periods of time, even to visit."

“Why?” Tikki gave her a puzzled look. “Do they work for the government or something?”

“…I guess you can say that,” Marinette responded. “My grandmother has a very…’significant’ position in the Chinese government. As well as my uncle who’s been preparing to take over my grandmother’s job when she retires.”

“Your uncle Wang?” Tikki looked confused.

Marinette shook her head. “No, no, I mean my other uncle. Uncle Jianguo. My grandmother married twice. Uncle Wang is her brother in law from her first marriage and Uncle Jianguo is her son and my mom’s half-brother from her second marriage. It’s all pretty confusing if you don’t know the family tree.”

“Oh, I see.” The kwami fluttered about as Marinette changed into her new gown. “You look like a dream!”

“Feels like one too,” Marinette spun around a couple times, enjoying how the skirt floated in the air before resting comfortably back against her skin. She loved how the fabric felt, how it fitted her perfectly. With the right pair of shoes, she would look like a true princess.

‘Though I guess that was the intention grandmother was going for,’ she thought.

“Sweetheart, you look stunning!”

Marinette jumped as her mother peeked her head through the door. Thankfully Tikki heard the footsteps before Marinette did and quickly hid behind the mannequins in the corner.

“Thanks, mom. Grandma really wanted to top her last gift,” she said.

“If she keeps this up, you’ll be getting you a gold plated car with your own driver,” Sabine joked.

“Yeah, because that’s what I need: people questioning why my grandmother can send me a car and a chauffeur,” Marinette replied drily.

“I hope you’re not planning on letting that dress sit in her closet. It’s too beautiful not to be worn.”

“Well…” Marinette thought. “I was thinking of wearing it when we visit grandma this Christmas. But there is a fashion show coming next month. Maybe I’ll wear it there.”

“You could, but you might be confused for one of the models,” Sabine smiled.

Her daughter rolled her eyes, but in good nature. “Yeah right. But that does give me an idea.”

“I’ll leave you to your ‘idea’ then. I have to give your father his gift anyway. Just make sure to put away the dress properly," Sabine kissed her head and exited the room. "Though I wish mother and Mei would stop sending Tom gold-decorated cookware. Like we need more dragon-shaped knives and gold leaf plates…”

Once she couldn’t hear her mother’s voice anymore, Marinette called out to Tikki and quickly changed into her normal clothes.

“Come on, I need to go to the fabric store.”

“Inspired by your dress?” asked the kwami.

“Yep! This dress needs a good pair of shoes to go with it,” smiled Marinette, grabbing her purse. “And I have an old pair of heels I want to revamp just for this occasion. Come on,  Lafayette Saltiel Drapiers has a great selection on Chinese patterned fabric!”

[sarcasmo-mexicano]

Flowers for Xur

Xaaldreen took another look at the Antique coin they were holding. It wasn’t bigger than the palm of their hand, it had a beautifully design, the shimmer of the gold starting to fade away; They could see their own, small, reflection on the greenish stone the coin had in its center. The hunter had a small pouch, almost filled with these, and they refused to spend them. From time to time they would pick any coin, and trace the overcomplicated but yet simple design with their finger.

Their fireteam however, did not share the same enjoyment from examine the coins as them. Every other day, they will count the coins each of them had and proceeded to go pay a visit to the Agent of the Nine. The first times, they would invite them over, claiming that the seller had some exotic weaponary or even armor they would like. But Xaaldren always refused. After that, they stopped. The hunter was glad their teammates could find something they like with the seller, but they didn’t need such things. They were ok with their set of armor, with their old cloak. Their weapons had never fail them. They found more joy when the sun reflected its light into the strange coin. It make them smile.

As it was expect that day, their team went off without them to see the one who they called Xur. Xaaldren wait for them back at the plaza in the Tower, leaning into the rail watching other guardians ships coming back home.  

“Why don’t you spend your coins Xaal?” Nephrite, their Ghost, suddenly asked, making herself comfortable in the inside of their hood. “Don’t you want a new cloak? Maybe a new gun! I know you deserve it more than any of these guardians”

Xaaldren remained in silence for a few seconds. “I like the coins better” They simply reply. “They are pretty”

Nephrite sigh. Her guardian was indeed a weird one. Not as weird as that ONE guardian that just straight went to fight the Hive the first days they were rezzed, and then slayed Crota, and then Oryx, and then...Nevermind. Xaaldren was- different from the other guardians, but she love them regardless. They were HER guardian after all. “Seems like your buddies are going to be busy”

Xaaldren nodded. “Lunch?”

“Steamed buns?” Her guardian’s eyes light up, nodding more enthusiastically, making Nephrite laugh. “Ok let’s go!”  

On their way out, the Hunter noticed the pillars at the base of the stairs. There was small patches of soil, as if someone wanted to put some kind of plant but, ultimately, forgot about it. They seem so gray and bare.

“Xaaldren? Something wrong?”

The Hunter shook their head.  

. . .

At the market, while eating one bun while holding the bag with the other, Xaaldren took a small stroll. Many guardians were standing on the food stalls, eating and talking to each other. Some of them seem tired, with blackish eye bags under his equally tired eyes, other had smiles on their faces, laughing as hard as they could. It was all a mix of sounds and smells. The Hunter, certainly, liked this better than the quiet Tower. They were having a second bite when a small stall took their attention. They step closer, the seller, an old man give him a welcoming smile. On his table, were many trinkets, probably from the golden age. But that wasn’t what make them approach.

It was the small potted flower.  It was a long green cord, covered with small purple flowers, from its base to the very tip. They could see how other sprout were making its way from the dirt.

“Lavander” the seller said, making Xaaldren look away from the plant. “From outside the city, far away from here. It took me a few tries to bloom this beauty, but it was worth it. Don’t you think?” Xaaldren nodded. “Not many guardians stop by. Do you like it hunter?”

“Yes, I do” Xaaldren replied.

The old man gave them a smile. “Tell you what hunter, I have a few other seeds along this pretty girl ones, and a book about gardening. I can sell them to you”

The hunter did never took their glimmer faster than in that moment.

. . .

He read and re-read the book, day after day. It was not until they could probably recite the entire thing that they decided to plant their first seed. The small envelope read “fern”. They knew what a fern was, they had seen it on patrols, growing as if their world wasn’t plagued with enemies. Every day after that, the Hunter would check into the pot they planted the seed. They would check the temperature, the dirt, water it, and change the pot into a place with more sun or more shadow. After a few days, tiny green leaves appear. Xaaldren was happy.

After the fern grew a bit more, Xaaldren decided it was better for it to be on a bigger pot.  And they knew a perfect place.

Guardians and Vanguard alike, watched in silence as the awoken hunter dug a hole into the pillars planters, placing a green fern on it, covering up again and then leave. Nobody question them, non-tried to stop them. And didn’t question as every other month, they would come back, this time with a different plant or flower, and put those in a different pillar, until just one was left empty.  

. . .

Xaaldren had bought a special pot for the lavender. It a simple, clay pot that someone in the past had painted purple and gold waves into it, make it prettier yet still simple. They anxiously placed the seeds on the dirt, then they waited.

And just as the other times, Xaaldren placed the full grown lavender into the last empty pillar. The purple flowers drop into the stone, making itself home. It wasn’t until they fireteam came back from their shopping day that the hunter noticed the strange symbol on the same pillar. They could only read “IX”

. . .

Lavender is easy to take care. But Xaaldren liked to make sure all their plants were ok, early in the morning they would step in the plaza, gardening tools in a bag to check every single one of them. Usually the plaza at those hours were almost empty, with only a few guardians and of course the vanguard, around. However, when Xaaldren came for the daily check, a person was standing in front of the lavender pillar. Just…Observing. It was like this strange person –dressed head to toes in black, carrying a big backpack on their back- could feel their presence as they turn around to see them. Xaaldren step back. This person face, well this person lacked a face. It was all dark in the place where eyes, nose, mouth should be. If the hunter look at them still, they could see movement, as if there was something there, like tentacles. They could only see their eyes, yellow and shiny like a cats.

“Don’t fear Guardian” They said. “Im only, admiring this before my duty”

“Your duty?” Xaaldren ask, walking closer to this individual, putting their gardening back in the floor near the pillar.

“Im Xur, agent of the Nine” He introduced himself. “I sell guardians like you, very value engrams.” Xur explained as he watched the hunter take out what it looked like a strange thermometer. “I had seen many guardians, but I don’t recall seeing you”

Xaaldren placed the thermometer into the soil, then faced Xur, they were almost the same height. “Im Xaaldren Xuruhn” they said sticking their hand toward the Agent. “It’s a pleasure to meet you”

Xur stared at the hunters hand then the guardian themselves. Nobody had ever introduced to him in such polite manner. Unsure he squeezed the hunter’s hand. After the introductions he, then again, looked back at the flowers. “Such a pretty flower” he said carefully touching one of the sprouts. “The color of the Nine too”

“You put that strange symbol in the pillar?” Xaaldren asked as they water the other plants, the lavender was just fine.

“That I do” Xur reply “For guardians to known when Im here” The Agent stared at the other plants. They were healthy, colorful. “I assume you take care of them” The hunter nodded. “A noble job you are doing”

Xaaldren put away their tools, hanging the bag around their shoulder. “You like them?”  

Xur wasn’t sure. After all his will didn’t belong to him no more but at the Nine. Could he say he liked the flowers? Or it was the Nine who did? Strange thing to have in mind. Like something so vain yet so beautiful. The Nine wouldn’t appreciate this. “I do”

. . .

When the lavender fade away, Xaaldren would stop by the old man’s stall, to buy more. Sometimes more lavender, others bright orange poppies or pure white chrysanthemum. When the seller didn’t have any more seeds, Xaaldren would pick some wild ones when they were out in a patrol. The Towers planters were never empty. Some other guardians even started to take care of them when the hunter couldn’t.

Everything stayed the same, except for one thing.

Guardians didn’t noticed at first, and if they do, they never really pointed at it. It was mention in passing conversations or lunch breaks. But that was it.

The days when Xur was in the Tower, the pillar he would mark down, will always have lavender. There could be another flower in the same planter, but the purple flowers didn’t missed a day.  Some guardians swear that the Agent of the Nine would be there, beside the flowers before going to his usual spot in the Tower. He didn’t have a face, but they swear on their graves he seem to be enjoying himself.

[cordleshteam]

You may get two to three baskets for each kind of dim sum if one basket is not enough to go around

This is a tidier method and prevents patrons from hiding or stealing the plates in an attempt to cheat. In a dim sum restaurant, you can either order from a menu or in some restaurants, dim sum is offered by someone going around the restaurant by using a trolley cart. It is done to save time in loud or lively dim sum houses as the person might be chatting or eating when the host is serving their tea. Another gesture used in a dim sum restaurant, which is used to get the waiter's attention, is to leave the lid off of the pot. Make sure you try them!. The varieties of dim sum are endless. Ordering dim sum family style enables every family member to share and enjoy many varieties of food.Many people have heard of the words Chinese Dim Sum, but do you know what it is? The word "dim sum" is derived from Cantonese language which literally means "dot the heart".

One more tea that you can find that is commonly recognized to help digestion is pu-er, which is a type of strong tea. Some of my favorites are mango pudding, deep fried taro cake, steamed scallop dumpling, fried beancurd rolls with shrimps and stuffed eggplant. It is a meal usually eaten during breakfast, brunch or tea consists of a combination of a variety of Chinese appetizers and snacks in small servings served in small steamer baskets or plates. The recipient may give his/her thanks to the one who pours the tea by tapping his/her index finger several times near the cup if you are a single or using both the middle and index fingers if you're married. A couple of the most common teas that are served in a dim sum restaurant are oolong also called wu lung, Chrysanthemum, and green tea.

You may get two to three baskets for each kind of dim sum if one basket is not enough to go around. It is a Chinese custom to pour tea for others before pouring your own cup of tea. Dim sum dining, also known as "yam cha", basically means "drinking tea". These dumplings and noodle rolls are stuffed with beef, prawns, pork and chicken. There are also those that record the dishes served on a bill at the table. There are restaurants that calculate the total by the number and size or even at times by the color of the dishes that are left on the eaters table. Two very popular dim sum dumplings are siu mai and har gaw. The price of dim sum dishes may vary. The tapping technique symbolizes bowing to them with thanks. However, if you are vegetarian, you can get it with vegetarian stuffing too.

Other Wholesale Dry Irons for sale than these, you can also find other dishes like congee porridge, lotus-leaf wrapped sticky rice pork ribs or chicken feet in black bean sauce, steamed vegetables, chow mein, roasted meats, egg tarts and soups. Dim sum can be deep fried, steamed or baked. In some restaurants, to record the amount of sales made by a particular server, each of the servers uses a unique stamp on the bill. This is simply because that tea generally accompanies dim sum dishes. The classic dim sum meal generally consist of a variety of buns such as the cha siu bao (BBQ Pork Buns) or lotus bean paste buns, dumplings and rice noodle rolls or cheong fun. It is a tradition to get dim sum family style as they are served in a small portion of two or four pieces in one plate.

[tessa-quayle]

Whirling in the dark universe

many thanks to @jomiddlemarch for the combined prompts and the edits.  notes (and the same drabble) can be found on AO3.

___________________________________

Gareth spent minutes staring at the ceiling before realizing it wasn’t his bedroom. In the kitchen, a coffee grinder buzzed and a metal filter tapped against the sink.  An automatic pour-over whirred.  A few gurgles were followed by a long hiss.  Two slate Heath mugs lined the counter, ready to be filled.  

    As he reached for the nightstand in search of his watch, he found his tie wrapped around his wrist in a loosened knot, a distant cousin to the double Englishman’s.  He smiled recalling the night before.  She had left him at the curb.  Hours later, he showed up at her door.  She tied him to her kitchen chair: one hand twisting the silk around his wrists and the other unzipping his pants.  He wanted to ask where the fuck did you learn how to do this, but remembered she’d spent years one-handedly stitching up ragged flesh with catgut and nylon.  He twisted in surrender, and struggled to sit still as she knelt before him.

  You don’t have to, it’s okay

I want to, if you want it

I do, but -

Then shhhhh (shhh, baby)

Vivian, in black rimmed glasses and a faded Yale t-shirt barely covering the top of her thighs, walked to the edge of the bed and handed him his cup of coffee.

“Thank you.”

She studied him as he sipped.  “I think my grandmother would’ve liked you.”

“What do you mean?”

She smiled conspiratorially. “She called 1997 ‘the Handover.’”

***

She recalled her grandmother sniping in Cantonese at the aunts and uncles.  Is it a reunification or a handover?  We move from one oppressor to another.  Vivian’s childhood summers were spent roaming the malls and parks in Burnaby and West Van with her cousins.  Each year, her grandmother teased her about her accented Mandarin.  Before every road trip back on I-5 near the border, they’d have dim sum in a strip mall where cars in the lot packed like mahjong tiles across felt.  They had to shout over the table of billowed pork buns, spiraled-top soup dumplings, sheets of white rice noodles stuffed with pink-orange shrimp; no one thought anything of the noise.  Carts carrying stacked bamboo steamers crowded the aisles, every waiter’s black trousers shiny with wear.  Vivian liked best the first pour of the fragrant jasmine tea and was careful not to swallow the verdigris specks at the bottom of the amber water.  Once, the wait staff had forgotten to refill the pot; oversteeped, the tea turned brown and bitter.  She learned to love chrysanthemum tea her grandmother preferred - bright yellow white petals that blossomed under hot water and resembled miniature sunflowers, the sap only turning cold with time.  

***

He groaned and rolled his eyes: “I’m not like that.”

“I know you don’t mean to be,” she leaned down and kissed his forehead.  

***

(the night before)

This is bullshit, Vivian sputtered to herself.  Standing beneath the red awning, she had just walked out of Rules.  Lanzhou was city blocks away and suddenly she craved hand-shaven noodles.   She debated whether to march the quarter mile in her spiked stilettos; on a better night, she’d have packed flats into a tote snagged at that last medical conference in Brussels.

The door swung open and Gareth stepped beside her, his fingers grazing her elbow: “Vivian, why’re you leaving so soon?”  

“We had a really long day with Q,” she replied, picking an easy excuse, “I’m exhausted, I need to go to bed.”

“It’s 8:30.”

“I’m an old lady.”

Gareth, slightly annoyed, demanded: “What happened in there?  Why won’t you tell me the truth?”

***

Moneypenny looked on sympathetically as Vivian neared a confrontation with a dense MI6 agent.  

So where are you from?  

The States.  

Oh yes yes, but you know, where are you really from?  

California.  

What I mean is -

She interrupted him and enunciated evenly: Palo Alto, Ca-li-for-ni-a.  He blinked, barely able to recognize the sarcasm in her voice.   She glared into the old-fashioned before throwing the rest of it back, the ice cold against her lip. It stung. She slammed down the glass and tossed an oversized tip onto the bar.   Gareth huddled at a table with Q and she felt relieved he’d been spared being a witness to her rage.  As she stomped toward the exit on the gold-swirled patterned carpet, she heard a faint ni hao from a corner.  She felt the urge to maim someone.  She darkly imagined herself with a scalpel, the power gathering in the center of her palm, where Gareth thought it was romantic to press a kiss.

***

She couldn’t help but fume: “Because you’ll never get it.  You all had an entire Empire built on the backs of others and still can’t expand your definition of what a fucking Westerner looks like.”

Shaking with anger, she turned to the street and raised a hand in the air, the satin clutch gripped in the other fist, the Burberry Gibbsmoore coat draped heavy over her forearm.  Cabs snaked through the narrow road, none of them for hire.  

He looked at her, bewildered: “Won’t you at least tell me what happened?  I don’t understand.”

She shook her head, “I’m sorry.  Not now, maybe later.”

Defeated, Gareth offered: “Fine, well, at least - at least let me get you a car.  Let me take you home.”

[mossofthewoodsjewelry]

I’m in a great mood after the relief of learning we’re not getting kicked out of our home and after watching the sun rise on this absolutely beautiful autumn morning. We went to the grocery store and the morning mist was just clinging to the turning Sumacs and Goldenrod along the roadside.

I picked up a few new friends at the store, a big pot of three different colored Chrysanthemums. The fall made me really want to make some Mum pieces. I’ll begin drying them in a day or two after they’ve settled in.

I grabbed a loose flower that had fallen off the new plant and stuck it in my bun along with the Chamomile pins I was wearing as a charm for financial good luck (considering the circumstances hours earlier) and I thought it contrasted the pins well.

[overdrivels]

Dialect (Drabble)

Summary: Mei speaks another dialect other than standard Mandarin. It’s so country that she’s embarrassed to have anyone else hear it.

Mei's face flushes.

She tells herself it's no big deal, no one could understand her words or the difference between /proper/ Mandarin and the backwater dialect that her grandparents used to spit out at rapid fire intervals. But she still buries her face in her hands. It's too embarrassing to be caught speaking the equivalent of three times the thickness of Jesse McCree's southern drawl. (There's nothing wrong with his accent, at least it was endearing, but her's was nowhere near the level of comforting or heartwarming as his.)

She hoped her tongue would shrivel and fall out of her mouth. She fans herself with a shaky hand, but it does very little to relieve the burning shame that consumes her. Why. Oh why.

She hurried to the kitchen where she could get herself some tea. Tea always calmed her down.

Ana is at the service window, presumably speaking to the lone chef of Watchpoint: Gibraltar. The window is too low for her to see the person who always cooks their meals, but she bows at them both all the same. Mei is aware Ana stops her conversation to look at her for a touch longer than an acknowledgement, but Mei readily ignores it when Ana returns to her conversation, albeit more insistent and hushed.

She shouldn't have been surprised to see the mother figure out Overwatch come sit near her with a tray of tea (she noted that she is without her signature tray of cookies).

“Tea?” Ana offers. Mei immediately jumps into action--anything to distract her from her thoughts.

“Oh yes, please. Let me,” she reaches for the pot with shaky hands that get smacked away.

“Just sit, relax.”

Ana pours it instead, hands definitely steadier from the lack of anxiety and years of being a trained sniper. In a way, Mei was in awe that Ana always seemed to keep her cool even in the worst of situations. If Ana was in her place, what would she do? Play it off? Wear it like a badge of honor? Probably even hold it close to her heart until it was necessary.

A cup is pushed into her hands--the scent of pu’erh, thick and earthy. She thinks she spies a chrysanthemum petal in there as well.

“Drink up, you look like the sky’s fallen on you,” jokes Ana warmly. Knowingly.

Her brain fails her, and she has several false starts to her standard, "I'm fine," "Nothing's wrong". But in the end, after a nervous sip and the expectant look on the sniper’s face, she spills her thoughts out. How she was speaking to someone in her backward dialect, how she was heard, and how utterly embarrassing this dialect was--she went on, and on about the nuances, the history, and why it was such a shameful thing, not truly, but it is not proper for any civilized person to be speaking in such a way.

In the end, Ana just shrugs, swirling her tea with the non-chalance of someone who really does not understand the weight of such a nuanced thing.

"There's nothing wrong with an accent."

"It's not just an accent--it's a dialect." It would seem silly to her later that such a distinction needed to be made, but at the moment, it was the most important thing to her. "It's so...not proper. Not beautiful, it's..." She shakes her hands, unable to describe the exact extent of how rural and uncivilized her other language was.

"It's a part of you. Just because your grandparents are from the countryside doesn't make you any less of a person."

"I just--"

"You're fine. You speak very well."

"But--"

"And no one thinks any less of you for what you speak."

"That's because you don't understand!"

Ana levels her with a look at makes her hands shake for an entirely different reason, and that was just with one eye. Mei shuddered to imagine both eyes with that look. She puts down her teacup with a definitive 'click'. "I may not understand your language, but I do understand that you are Mei-Ling Zhou. A brilliant young climatologist who does her best to save the world and all its living creatures, language be damned. You are all the more intelligent, knowing so many languages regardless of their origins. Let no one tell you otherwise. Do you understand?"

Mei could only nod quickly. Ana's scowl instantly turns into a smile.

"Good. Now, let's see if we can't make the chef give us more of those sweet buns."

" 菠蘿包 ," Mei says instantly, instinctively.

"Yes, those."

"But the chef doesn't take requests."

Ana laughs. "I don't make requests."

Mei doesn't really want to find out what she is implying, but trusts the older woman enough to just let her go to the service window and essentially demand for the sweet pastry that takes upward of two hours to create. She does not hide her awe when Ana returns triumphantly with a tray full of them in a few moments.

"Eat up."

"--how?"

The older woman smiles slyly, and just picks up her cup again for a sip of tea in lieu of answering. Mei looks between her and the tray. The heat gathers in her face and prickles at her eyes. She can't stop the thank you's that flow from her lips as she picks up a bun (still warm, the crust crumbling just slightly).

"谢谢你啊, 谢谢," she repeats furiously even through a mouthful of crunchy, soft bread. It's gentle warmth reminds her of home.

菠蘿包 = Bolo bao (pineapple bun; doesn’t actually have pineapples)

谢谢你啊, 谢谢 = Thank you, thank you (with some sort of exclamation in between--it’s really hard to explain. It’s like “desu” or “yo” in Japanese)

I love bolo baos. So fucking much. As for what dialect, I have no idea.

[stephendavid]

Chinese Woman Tries American Chinese Food From the looks of what this woman is eating, it appears she went to a really REALLY bad Chinese restaurant, as this is NOT an example of good Chinese-American food. I have been eating Chinese for most of my 63 years, and I have NEVER been served Won-Ton soup that looks like that. What she is eating looks very gelatanous and has FRIED Won-Tons in it. All of the soups I have eaten were delicious liquid soup with real (soft, filled) Won-Tons. But then again, what is the name of this "Chinese" restaurant? "FRATERNITY" Chinese restaurant! I am guessing this is on or near a college campus, is owned managed by non-Chinese Americans (likely former Frat-Boys) and the kitchen is probably also staffed by the same. Nevertheless this this is somewhat true regarding the differences between American and authentic Chinese cooking. It confirms some of my (and my Chinese wife's) experience with American Chinese vs authentic P.R. Chinese food. (I spent 2 weeks in Beijing and 3 weeks in Shanghai when I first met my wife) My understanding is that Chinese American food is mostly related to Hong Kong /Guang Dhong (Cantonese) cooking but greatly modified for American tastes. That should be totally understandable for anyone who has been to China and tastes genuine Chinese food. There are lots of great authentic Chinese dishes (e.g. "Chrysanthemum Fish," "Spicy Chicken," "Chili Shrimp" etc). But Americans would not really like most authentic Chinese food. Even the "Spicy Chicken" that I really love was totally unexpected. One thinks of something like the American Chinese "General Gao/Tao/Tsao/etc Chicken" and this is not at all similar. "Spicy Chicken" is actually made of extremely tiny pieces of chicken bone with slivers of meat around the bones and cooked in a mountain of extremely hot dried Chili peppers. When they bring it to your table, it looks like all peppers. When you dig out and eat the tiny bits of meat, they totally burn your lips they are so hot! And thats just the good stuff! The deserts are a total waste of time unless you like little cakes with some form of (usually red or black) bean paste. With the exception of beer, which was introduced from Europe, nearly all hard liqour is made from Sorghum. It has high alcohol content (e.g. 102 - 105 proof) but a very sweet strange taste that really takes some getting used to. Their rice wine (the most common "Shao Xing")tastes nothing like the smooth, buttery Japanese Sake. It is very sweet and also has a taste that takes getting used to. My (Chinese) wife and step-son prefer the Japanese Sake I introduced them to. My wife regularly goes to the local Chinese market and buys what I call "more of that inedible Chinese crap." Want to know what that means? Chicken Claws/Feet and Beaks, Cow intestines (for Hot Pot), all kinds of what I call "Chinese Special Meats" that you don't want to know what they are. My refrigerator, freezer and pantry shelves are filled with unknown Chinese food I would not touch with a ten foot Chopstick! On the other hand, my wife is a great cook and there are lots of dishes that are wonderful -- especially her dumplings, noodles and steamed Buns. But she has actually learned to make some Chinese-American dishes that she likes a lot, such as "Kung Pao Chicken." I also cook a mean "General Gao Chicken" dish that she and my step-son love. Her parents visited us from China for 6 months and they really liked my "Americanized Chinese" cooking. Side note: in this video, the woman gives General Tsao Chicken a "10" for authenticity. That is surprising because even the Chinese cookbook that I got my recipe from says that, although there are similar spicy chicken dishes in China, there is no exact parallel to General Gao/Tsao Chicken, and my wife and in-laws say the same. Maybe it originated in a province other than where my wife's family originated or has visited. Even though you may be able to find very crappy Chinese American restaurants like this "Fraternity" one, there are a lot of very good restaurants that cook food that appeal to American tastes while good enough for Chinese nationals. For example, when we first moved to Georgia there was a restaurant we kept driving by called "City Lights." We never really knew what that was until one day when we used the parking lot outside and saw that it was a Chinese restaurant. Keli and I loved the food and visited it regularly until we moved to another town. Sadly, it eventually closed down. There is also a very large Chinese buffet in Macon that my wife and I love. It gets so packed that the line goes a distance outside the building on a Sunday after church. We used to go there when we visited my parents, but its too far away for us to go on a regular basis. We don't currently know of any really good Chinese restaurants nearby right now, although I am sure they exist.

[edivupage]

15 Children’s Books That Teach Essential Life Lessons

I have a son that is 2 years old and he is my pride and joy. I had a great father, and the dream of every father is that his son will be a better version of himself. Lately, I have been thinking about all of things that I want to teach my son, and all of the important life lessons that I want to give him. Believe you me, as much as I like to think of myself as great communicator, sometimes its hard to find the right words. But what if they were already written for you?

If you are looking to communicate a moral or life lesson to your child, but need a little assistance, why not use a children’s book? No matter the topic, odds are there is a children’s book that covers it. And the icing on the cake is that they discuss the subject in a developmentally appropriate way. Below you find my 15 of my son Matthias’s favorites, divided by the topic that it covers.

The True Meaning of Happiness

Matthew and the Money Tree by Matthew Lynch

Effective Communication

Howard B. Wigglebottom Learns to Listen by Howard Binkow

My Mouth is a Volcano! by Julia Cook

Sharing With Others

Llama Llama Time to Share by Anna Dewdney

It’s Mine! by Leo Lionni

Being Honest

The Empty Pot by Demi

The Boy Who Cried Bigfoot! by Scott Magoon

Etiquette

Do Unto Otters by Laurie Keller

Rules of the Wild: An Unruly Book of Manners by Bridget Levin

Obeying the Rules

Bella’s Rules by Elissa Haden Guest

Don’t Let the Pigeon Stay Up Late!  By Mo Willems

David Gets in Trouble by David Shannon

Being Kind to Others

Spaghetti in a Hot Dog Bun by Maria Dismondy

Chrysanthemum by Kevin Henkes

Strictly No Elephants by Lisa Mantchev

What books did we miss?

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