#the clay was too wet this spring and got too hard too quickly in May after it stopped raining

[jensownzoo]

We got an inch of rain early yesterday morning and three inches this morning. All my rain barrels (5) and all of the numerous storage containers (cat litter jugs) are full.

Apologies to those living in a flood plain, but I am dancing with glee. All those things except for two litter jugs had been emptied during the heat wave and lack of significant rainfall and I was watching my vegetables die and getting quite anxious about everything. Particularly given that the spring had been so promising.

For context, except for the five ollas, I rely on rainfall to water the garden as I have no working outside spigot. If this keeps happening I'm going to have to shift entirely to drought-resistant crops and be sad.

It would be lovely if I could set up a grey-water system to help out. I'll have to do some research into how to macgyver one up because I definitely don't have the $$$ to get a standard system. If I did, I could just fix my plumbing issues and problem solved.

[dreamerstreamer]

Telltale Talent

Pairing: Dream / Clay x gn!reader

Summary: [Dream SMP!AU] When Dream tries to teach you how to spar, he learns that you’re more than what meets the eye.

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: this was requested by an anon who wanted a fun sparring practice with a surprise! here’s to the first fic of 2021, and i hope you enjoy <3

Clay stared down at the map on his desk, his fingers curling tighter around the quill in his hands. A mess of scribbles and circles gazed back up at him as he made another mark. He bit back the sigh that threatened to escape his throat, his brow twitching.

You were doing it, again.

He could feel your eyes on him from the other side of the room, practically boring a hole through his skull. He clenched his jaw, chewing on his lip as he tried to focus his attention on the map lying before him. If you were going to do what he thought you were going t—

At that exact moment, you opened your mouth, but he spoke before you could.

“No.”

Almost immediately, a whine flew from your lips, and you thrashed your legs in annoyance. “What?! Why not?” You frowned, determination etched into your features. “It’ll be a good experience!”

This time, he actually did sigh, lifting his head to look at you dead on, balancing his quill between his fingers. “For one, it’s not like you’re not going to go into battle, anyway.”

Your frown deepened, a line forming between your brows as you shot him a longing look. “That doesn’t mean you still can’t teach me how to spar.”

He pursed his lips, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. “There’s no need to.”

For a few seconds, you simply stared at one another, your eyes swimming with resolve as he grimaced. Then your face lit up, and you shot your arm into the air, making him jump. 

“Self-defence!” you shouted, your entire body practically glowing with hope. “If you teach me how to spar, then I could use it for self-defence purposes.” Before he could open his mouth to retort, you cut him off with a cold look. “Clay, you can’t tell me that there’s no chance that I won’t ever have to defend myself—you just can’t.”

Clay blinked at you, glowering. You weren’t wrong, per se. He didn’t want to acknowledge it, but there was still a very real possibility that at any point, you could be in danger, regardless of whether or not you were on the battlefield. It wasn’t that he didn’t think you were capable of keeping yourself safe, but teaching you how to fight would mean having to admit that there may come a time where he couldn’t be there for you.

The mere thought left a bitter taste in his mouth.

He stared at you for a long moment, taking in the sight of your pleading face and clenched hands, your eyes desperately searching his. Then, he sighed once more, setting his quill down in its holder. “Fine.”

You let out a delighted squeal, springing to your feet before bounding over to his desk. Bending over, you pressed a quick peck to his cheek. His heart skipped a loving beat in his chest, and his cheeks flushed pink.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, Clay!” you cried, flashing him a bright grin as you pulled back. Your eyes curved into crescent moons as you giggled with glee. “You won’t regret this, I promise!”

He rested his head on his hand as he watched you cheer to yourself, pumping your air in a successful dance. A small smile flitted across his face, his emerald eyes crinkling at the corners as his map lay forgotten on the desk.

Oh, who was he kidding? You were far too cute to say no to, even if he wanted to.

“So, what’s first?”

He hummed, tucking a hand under his chin. Above you, the midday sun beat down on you both, the clouds watching with eager eyes as Clay paced around the clearing.

He was lucky to have found a spot within the forest that was both open and had plenty of soft grass. This way, you’d have a proper spot to practice while also having some semblance of cushioning beneath you in case you fell. As much as he wanted to simulate a real fight scenario for you, he didn’t want you to actually get injured. He could hardly manage to keep his cool when you got a simple scrape on your finger—there was no way he’d remain calm if you got hurt in a fight, practice or not.

His steps suddenly came to a halt, and he turned on his heel to look at you with a thoughtful glance. “Before we even properly start practicing,” he began, raising two fingers, “there are two things you should know and remember.”

Your eyebrows knit together as you let out a small whine, your shoulders sinking at your side. “Aw, is this a lecture?” You frowned. “I just want to skip to the fun part, already.”

Clay rolled his eyes as shook his head, but you didn’t miss the tiny smile on his lips as he wagged his fingers at you. “Ah, ah, ah. I’m the teacher here, so you better pay attention.”

You shot him a sour look, then quietly grumbled, “Well, you’re not a very fun teacher.”

He scowled at that, placing a hand on his hip. “We’re getting there!” His gaze softened, and his tone grew gentle as he offered, “Let’s just do this first, okay? I promise I’ll keep it short, and you will get to try a real spar, today.”

Your frown was slowly replaced by a smile, and you sent him a keen look, shifting forward onto your toes. “Okay.”

He grinned, taking a few steps back from you until he was standing on the opposite side of the clearing. “Good. First,” he said, pointing his two fingers at his eyes then to yours, “never take your eyes off your enemy.” He cocked his head as he lowered his arm. “It may seem obvious to you, but you’d be surprised by how often people forget in the heat of the moment.”

Your gaze was serious when you nodded, and he was almost taken aback by how quickly your demeanour had changed. “I can do that.”

He blinked for a second, then sent you another encouraging smile. “Perfect. Second,” he carried on, pointing downward, “remember that your feet exist.”

“Okay—wait.” You froze, your eyebrows furrowing together as confusion flickered across your face. “What?”

He chuckled at your confused expression, dropping his arm. “I know it sounds dumb, but it’s true! You see,” he explained, tapping a finger against his temple, “the human brain is kind of dumb, and a lot of the time when it comes to fights, a person’s first instinct is to focus on their enemy’s hands and immobilize them.” He raised his hand toward you, curling it into a tight fist. “After all, they are pretty effective weapons. But your feet can be just as, if not more, powerful.” His gaze darted back to yours. “Do you follow?”

Slowly, you nodded, your eyes staring directly at his knuckles. “In the same way,” he continued, “it’s also good to remember that your elbows and knees are two of the strongest parts of your body.” He raised one hand, the other reaching over to tap his elbow. “Don’t be afraid to use them, because they can be especially useful.”

Your lips parted as you bobbed your head. He could practically see the gears churning in your head, and he almost wanted to coo at how focused you looked. “Feet, elbows, knees,” your murmured quietly to yourself, huffing. “Got it.”

He dropped his arm, his lips quirking. “Awesome.” He turned slightly to the side, shifting his weight onto his back foot. “Now that the so-called boring part is done, do you just want to give it a first go and try a practice fight? First person to knock the other person over wins.”

Your eyes lit up, and for a split second, Clay could have sworn he saw something dark flicker through your gaze. But it was gone as soon as it had appeared, and he was soon blinded by your dazzling grin. “Sure!”

His expression mirrored yours as he brought his arms up in front of him, his hands forming fists. In front of him, your eyes quickly scanned him up and down, and you slowly moved to copy his stance. He felt a tinge of satisfaction shoot through him. You were a fast learner.

“I’m ready when you are,” he called, cracking his neck with a grunt.

Your eyes narrowed, your tongue darting out to wet your lips, and for a moment, all was still.

Then, in a flash, you were charging toward him, stopping only just in front of him to throw your fist at his skull. He smiled at your earnest effort, quickly twisting to the side. You nearly toppled forward when your fist met empty air, and he reveled in your widening eyes. A split second later, you leapt back, swinging your left leg up and into his side. But just before your shin made impact with his hoodie, he lifted his arm, his hand quickly latching onto your ankle and holding it in place.

“Ooh, nice try, sweetheart,” he hummed, shooting you a crooked grin. He drank in the shocked look on your face as his expression grew a fraction darker and his grip on your ankle tightened.

“But not nice enough.”

He swiftly threw down your foot, watching as you stumbled back at the force. You didn’t get the chance to regain your balance before he was suddenly looming beside you, his fist flying toward your nose. With a yelp, you ducked, your arm shooting above your head to grab his arm in midair. He blinked as your fingers dug into his sweater, curling tightly into the fabric. Then, a devious grin crept onto his face.

As much as you may try, he had the upper hand when it came to brute strength.

But to his shock, he felt something sharp and hard slam into his gut, knocking the air straight out of his lungs. He quickly back-pedaled, but your hold on his sleeve didn’t let up. He only barely caught a glimpse of your kneecap before you stepped behind him, twisting his arm around and pinning it to his back. Just then, he felt something brush against his ankle.

No way.

In the blink of an eye, his legs were flying out beneath him, and he was flipping into the air. With a thud, he slammed into the ground, a dull ache shooting through his back as the grass cushioned his fall. Before he could even react, you quickly placed your foot on his chest, keeping him thoroughly pinned down.

His eyes were the size of saucers as he took in your half-shaking figure, your eyes trained on his fallen form. You panted above him, your fists slowly uncurling. “Was—was that good?”

Clay gaped at you, his head spinning with what you’d just done. You had just knocked him, a trained soldier and practiced assassin, flat on his back with practically no instructions whatsoever. He had only given you two—well, two and a half—simple tips before putting you on the spot, and you still managed to take him down.

There was no sugarcoating it—you were a prodigy. 

If he wasn’t in love with you before, then he definitely was, now.

Pride swelled in his chest as he closed his mouth, swallowing. He stared at you for a moment longer before shaking his head free from his reverie. He couldn’t wait to teach you more.

“[Y/N],” he breathed, his lips stretching into an awed grin, “you’re amazing.”

You blinked, pointing to yourself in surprise. “I-I am?”

He nodded without even an ounce hesitation, his grin growing even wider. “Very.” With a small grunt, he pushed himself back onto his feet, dusting off his behind before turning back to you. “Now,” he said, “do it again.” His eyes glinted with something akin to mischief. “I won’t go easy on you this time.”

You tilted your head at him as a devilish smile of your own tugged at your lips. “In that case, neither will I.”

He raised a brow at you, but he couldn’t stop the affection bubbling up in between his lungs. He felt his heart beat faster as you settled into a fighting stance, your arms raised in front of you. “That’s the spirit.”

Your eyes locked onto each other, and for a moment, all was still.

Then, you came barreling towards him, your eyes glimmering in the sunlight. His lips curled into a smirk as he raised his foot.

Perhaps teaching you to fight wasn’t too bad of an idea, after all.

[le-petitmort]

Part I – P.S. I’m not a stalker

I’ve seen her hundreds of memorable times before and always wondered if she’d noticed me from afar. In that same sideways glancing, trying to be secretive sort of way I did with her. Which raised the question, was I everywhere like she seemed to be?

Always. In the café window sipping on a latte. The patio of the cute little bistro down the block with the white stringed lights flagging in the cool night air. That corner bookstore with a hardcover open. Not so far that she bent the spine, enough to crack it open and let her mind get lost in words.

I didn’t know a thing about this girl. This ethereal woman always meandering about the neighborhood. Was she an apparition or were those lace topped black stocking that peeked from her stylish dress as she sat alone at a table for two just a figment of my imagination? That is my quandary. So, let me get down to the important facts.

This is Williamsburg, Brooklyn, New York, United States of America. She’s a woman, I’m a man and neither of us know each other. That is a large part of my quandary. My imagination has gone rampant regarding her.

The basics: gorgeous, prone to Parisian style, fond of heels which accent her calves…immaculately I must note, slightly sullen, seemingly forlorn, out of place (for a hipster’s paradise neighborhood), sexy as fuck, did I mention fond of lattes? Always stalking the neighborhood as if she owns it and never seeming to leave.

I’m the guy who could be confused for a hipster. Beard…check. Hair that flops when the humidity hits…check. Unemployed dreamer? Nah…it only seems that way. I have a “job”. One of my own making. One which I’ve worked hard to make profitable. One which I’ll explain later because the details will bore the fuck out of you.

Lately though, it’s seemed this girl…this woman…has become my full-time job. If it appears that I’m obsessive about her, you may be right. Obsessive and compulsive but, not in a bad way, in my mind. More so, an “I think I can mold near perfection to perfection, like wet clay in my hands” kind of way.

With that foremost in mind, I went to work. Not being so daft that I didn’t understand I needed to meet her first. At the very least, speak to her. Which is why this morning was something special, because I knew what time she gets her coffee. P.S. I am not a stalker. I’m smitten, but too shy or maybe too fearful of rejection. Which, come to think of it, is not at all like me. Except this is her, the nameless beautiful woman I’ve passed by a thousand times, and never once took my shot. Too afraid to choke.

Then here we were on a sunny, spring Friday morning, inches apart and waiting to order our coffee. Close enough that I could, as subtly as possible, inhale the floral notes of her perfume and let my imagine run wild about the taste from running my tongue along the length of her clavicle. P.S. I am not a stalker. I just seem like one and even I’m starting to be concerned about my infatuation. Maybe I should pull out on this chance at kismet? Maybe I’m just a big ol’ fucking fraidy cat.

Nope, no backing down. Today is the day.

I listened as she ordered her skinny latte in the sweet and low, purring voice. “Iona.” This was the first time I’d ever heard it. Always having wondered how she sounded. Not exactly the voice of an angel. A little resonant. Sexy as fuck though. A smoky voice. Not like a haggy old lady who’s choked down a lifetime of too many heaters. More youthful, vibrant, somewhat mesmerizing and melodic. Which almost made me forget the task at hand. To finally take my shot.

A plan which at the outset seemed easily accomplished, and now, seemed to be hastily thought out and not at all conceivable. Or it could be I was chickening out. Sack up, man. Fucking A. The plan is the plan, go for it. Which I did.

As she went to the corner to immerse herself in her phone, I took up space in front of the barista. Smiling, small talking, watching as a braided, red faced blonde furiously made drinks behind the counter. Nonchalant and desperately trying to not mess up my chance. Waiting for the drink that was getting skim milk, watching it being poured. Seeing it set on the oak rail before me. Reaching for it as blondie hollered, “Iona”. Making a casual eye turn to see dream girl not moving in my direction. Casually pulling a well prepared note complete with scotch tape from my shirt pocket. Attaching it to Iona’s drink. Grabbing my freshly prepared straight black coffee to rush out the door.

Seriously people, if you thought I was taking the risk of stuttering my way into an introduction with this woman you are sadly mistaken. I needed her to make the first move, with some gentle prodding. After that, all would be good. Quirky, I know.

I’m also certain that you are wondering what the note said. It was simplicity, “I’ve marveled at you from afar” and my phone number. That’s it. No name. No “call me”. Let her take control, just for this one shining moment in the game. If she took the ball and ran with it. If, curiosity got the best of her. If, she called. The biggest if in play.

I hurried home and went to work on my computer. Not even thinking about what I had just done. Out of sight, out of mind, I have work to do and money to make. I somehow have the ability to turn it on and off like that. Only once did I pause to wonder if she would call. So much so, that as I watched the Brooklyn Nets with only the light from the television illuminating the room, I became almost perturbed that my phone began to chime with 3:02 remaining in a three point game. Unknown caller. Fuck it.

At two minutes remaining and a one point game, there was the phone again. I sent it to voicemail. During the next timeout, just as I was about to get up to pace of the closeness of the game, there was the phone again. Unknown caller part three. Goddamnit , I gotta ditch whoever…shit. I hit receive call.

“Hello?”

“I was just wondering what kind of man leaves odd notes on women’s drinks in coffee shops.”

“Oh. That would be me.”

“Marvel at me from afar, huh?” She questioned. “Like a stalker?”

“No. Not like a stalker.” I retorted quickly. “Something different.”

“Something different? What?”

“Let me explain.”

“It better be a doozy of an explanation, mister whatever your name is.”

“It’s Stephen…with a p.”

Ok, Stephen with a P. Explain the note and why I shouldn’t be hanging up.”

“Alright. Here it is. The whole story.”

“Make it quick, I don’t have all night.”

“I’m not normally a loser that leaves notes.”

“What are you, Stephen with a P?”

In a moment of clarity I let it flow. “I’m just a guy. A guy who normally gets what he wants. But, for some reason…if I didn’t get your attention. Well, that would be soul crushing. I’ve seen you nearly daily. Just being you. Maybe I’ve built you up in my head. Put you on a pedestal. Something like that. I’ve come close to approaching so many times. I don’t know. Fear of failure. Whatever.”

“So you’ve seen me and never bothered. Because you might not sweep me off my feet?”

“mhm.”

“So…you figured I’d be intrigued by a note? That I wouldn’t resist curiosity?”

“mhm. Exactly.”

“What made you so sure I’d respond?”

“I wasn’t.”

“Do I know you Stephen with a P?”

“No.”

“What do you look like? Would I know you if I saw you?”

“I don’t know. Tall…beard…”

That’s every guy in this neighborhood Stephen with a P.”

Yeah, I know. Pretty much.”

“So give me a little more something. It’s obvious that if you’ve seen me. If you’ve noticed me. I’ve noticed you. Right?”

“Maybe. Well...I was standing behind you at the coffee shop this morning. There is that.”

It was a stunning moment of clarity. A seemingly interminable pause on the other end of the line. Then a rushed response.

“I’ve marveled at you from afar, as well.” Click. The phone went dead, right as the final buzzer of the Nets game blared from my tv. It was a comeback win and my smile was bigger than ever.

-bart 4.13.2019

Photo: Aaron Crossman

[caring-for-your-home-blog]

The Right Bonsai Tree Care

Bonsai tree care Potted trees may make your house or backyard more aesthetically pleasing, and this is particularly true of the bonsai tree collection. Obviously, most individuals think that caring for this assortment of trees is a complex and tiresome task. This, however, is not the case as it can be relatively simple to perform it satisfactory when you know what it is you are about.

Bonsai trees come in a plethora of species but each and everyone of them adhere to the exact same basic care guidelines. It is of high importance, in the event you wish to grow these plants, to realize most of them still have their own distinct requirements for fertilizer, water, light as well as correct positioning. And it is, thus, imperative to know what these trees need to thrive and flourish.

Watering Like many tree species, and indeed all other organisms, bonsai plants require a certain quantity of water, and a particular frequency of watering. Just how much water that they need greatly depends on many elements, and these comprise how big the tree is, and the size of its comprising marijuana. Or even the dirt you employ, prevailing climate conditions or the period of the year it happens to be.

A critical part of bonsai tree-care is to regularly analyze the dirt beneath its surface. If it seems and feels dry you can deduce that it requires more water. If, on the other hand, if it is fairly damp suggests that it owns sufficient moisture to the tree to imbibe.

To this end, you need to try to avoid watering your plant onto a rigid routine as all types of bonsai trees absorbs water at significantly differing rates. And of course they may also be affected by environmental conditions such as humidity and their peculiar root programs. It's always wise to soak up the entire root system, which ensures your tree receives the essential amount of water. Nevertheless, it is essential to attain the right watering equilibrium too much or too little water could be dangerous to these plants.

Deciding on the Proper dirt for your Bonsai plant Premixed bonsai lands are widely available on the net or even at physical bonsai tree-care shops. It is, however, particularly good to purchase the essential ingredients and blend them by yourself, which may be a superb method of customizing the mixture for your tree's different needs.

There are generally 3 essential components that you have to secure, and all these are akadama, compost and good gravel. Akadama happens to be a different clay soil that's extremely great for bonsai trees. If for any reason you might not be in a position to acquire akadama, then you can still utilize some type of hard clay soil or cat litter.

Naturally, all species of those plants demand different soil combinations. For example, deciduous bonsai trees favor a 50% mixture of akadama ( or another substitute you may use) and an equally balanced 50% makeup of both compost and gravel. Coniferous bonsai trees on their part, do especially well in 60% of akadama, 30% gravel and 10% compost.

You can go further and adapt your own plant to the particular climate of the place you reside, and to the end, wet climates require additional akadama and grit which considerably improve the shrub's drainage system's abilities.

Fertilizer for your bonsai plant Trees growing out in the wild use their roots to get the vital nutrients they need, which always induces these roots to expand when all nutrients in that special land are depleted. Bonsai trees deficiency this endowment since they're grown pots. This means you've got to restore all of the nutrients by fertilizer application.

This vital section of bonsai tree-care may have a tremendous influence on the growth of your plant. Fertilizer products are grouped with their Nitrogen/Phosphorous/Potassium composition. At the start of spring, a mix containing more Nitrogen is excellent for encouraging expansion. During summer, a nicely balanced mix can be especially excellent. A decreased Nitrogen composition assists in preparing the plant for the winter. Potassium on its part boosts the flowering of a bonsai tree's flowers.

Repoting your bonsai tree This is a vital element of both bonsai tree-care, and should, thus, be accomplished regularly. This task aids in refreshing the dirt and eliminating the risk of your shrub dying of starvation. There are lots of aspects that mostly determine the regularity of repotting your bonsai tree, and they all depend on the shrub's state.

Young and rapid growing bonsai trees may necessitate this procedure once in a couple of decades. Much bigger trees that have grown need repotting after each 5 years. To be able to ascertain what's the best time to do so to your tree, then analyze it during spring. If the roots jut out the soil, indicates that the shrub is seeking fresh nutrients, meaning that your own bonsai tree requires a repot.

Pest and diseases Bonsai trees are living organisms, and only as with other live forms, they may be prone to ailments and attacks from pests. A few of those attacks occasionally mar the tree's beauty, while at other times they could harm or even kill the tree if not checked. The main elements which activate these occurrences are under-feeding, over-feeding or over-watering.

If your plant manifests yellow leaves that finally fall off, can indicate a watering or feeding problem. If this alteration occurs suddenly you're able to infer that you aren't giving it sufficient water. If this change happens gradually it generally means that you might be overfeeding or underfeeding your own bonsai plant.

Pests in their components prefer to feed on those crops, and you may begin to detect grasshoppers, bees, ant or slugs, visually. Aphids, wasps, mites and weevils function more covertly, and can be difficult to spot them. Fungi and some sorts of viruses may also severely infect these plants. These usually manifests with a rapid die-back of the leaves and branches of the bonsai tree.In such cases, you have to quickly quarantine the plant, and endeavor to cure it using fungicides.

[orgroarts]

Lord and Hunter, Part 11: A Needed Respite

The four stood before the gates, of the remnants of the ruined city of Skrallingdjar, to look for a place to sleep for the night. All the houses they saw were damaged to some degree, ranging from a few small scrapes on its outside walls to a half broken-down wreck of a house. Skrallingdjar was bigger than it appeared from the outside. Most of the buildings were from a white clay-like stone, chiseled from one piece. A few tall towers dotted out from between the buildings like mushrooms between the moss.  ‘’Where to, guys?’’ Padlock stepped through the burst-open gate. His stomach turned when he saw it splattered with blood and cracked with claw-marks. The ground, as well, was dirtied and did not feel right. Therr too got a nasty feeling from the place. He shifted around constantly and howled softly.  ‘’Guys?’’ Padlock turned around and was struck with confusion.  Morg was knelt down in front of him, holding Einkill down by the scruff of his neck. ‘’Morg, what is all this?’’ Padlock asked. He shivered and rubbed his arms with his hands. Therr bumped his head against Padlock’s arm.  ‘’You had said you would postpone your judgement of me until we had arrived in the city, and so likewise would I judge over this dwarf. Now that we are here, I await in prayer.’’ Morg replied in one go, holding his free hand over the emblem of his chest. Einkill, while struggling to get away, looked around in a bit of a scared daze.  Padlock crossed his arms and leaned on the back of his feet, grinning. He’d never thought that Morg would take things this seriously. But alright, he needed a healing meat-tank that could protect him and the group.  ‘’Well then, Morg... I uh-’’ He felt the nasty buzz on his horns once more. As if something did not like his train of thought. ‘’Morg, I have decided that you should stay with me-’’ Therr bumped Padlock’s arm again, rougher this time. ‘’No.’’ ‘’-That you should stay with US!’’ Padlock corrected himself, and Therr kept bumping Padlock’s arm. ‘’Nooooo! He bad choice!’’ Padlock only groaned. ‘’What? Do you want to go for a walk, what?’’ Therr stamped on the floor and jerked his head side to side. ‘’HE BAD!’’  Morg stood up, still with Einkill’s neck tight in his hand. The small dwarf started hiccuping and gasping for air. ‘’Distance yourself, Gnoll. My judgement over Einkill is not yet over.’’ Therr did not like this one bit. Instead of stepping back, he put a padded foot forward and grabbed his spear to do some harm to Morg.  The buzz on his horns urged Padlock to do something about this, it seemed.  And so he did.  Padlock stood in front of Therr and reached out. ‘’STOP it for once! They are our FRIENDS now, damnit!’’ He slapped Therr hard in the face.  Therr fell backwards from the hit that he didn’t expect. And where Padlock expected the gnoll to immediately spring back up to bite down his throat, Therr only sat there and stared at him with those big, glazed eyes.  ‘’Uh... Buddy?’’ Padlock hesitantly asked. He didn’t know what was going on, and that unnerved him. What the hell was this green power doing to him?  Therr blinked when he heard the noise. He looked blankly from Padlock, to Morg, to Einkill still struggling to breathe.  He then jolted up, and Padlock feared the worst- Until he was hugged to tightly that he too couldn’t breathe.  ‘’UH, BUDDY!’’ Therr yelled, holding his small friend up and wagging his tail like it was the end of the world.  ‘’T-Therr... I can’t breathe!’’ Padlock struggled to get loose, and he heard Einkill to his side, laughing. Morg put the small bandit down.  The paladin took a strict look at the dwarf. ‘’I need conclusion. Why did you steal all those belongings back when we had found you?’’  Einkill heaved until his head was clear once again, he wobbly stood up straight and looked at Morg. Despite standing on his toes, he could not even get to Morg’s shoulder-height.  ‘’I thought I’d told ye before, lad, but I’ll tell you once again.’’ Einkill let out a long sigh. ‘’I’d overheard of Skrallingdjar, when I got there, of a lack of attacks as of late. I-...’’ Morg did not lose sight of the small dwarf. ‘’Continue.’’ ‘’A-And as I... Wanted to leave town, I saw ‘em. Gnolls. A whole buttload of ‘em, lad. An’ I heard ‘em too. Howling and the like everywhere. Wasn’t nice, I tell ya.’’ Morg crossed his arms. ‘’And what does that have to do with the theft?’’ Einkill gulped. Time to tell the truth.  ‘’Ah’ stole those things so the gnolls couldn’t get to ‘em. I was going ta’ bring them back, I swear! But, now that’ve seen this...’’ Einkill dragged his boot through the dust. ‘’It’s not really necessary anymore, it is?’’ Therr had carried Padlock to the others and flopped him down on the ground. ‘’I hear gnoll?’’ Padlock wheezed. Air!  Einkill started sweating profusely. ‘’N-Nay?’’ But Morg’s face turned somewhat. There was some emotion, but what it was? Perhaps puzzled thought, perhaps comprehension. They weren’t sure.  ‘’An evil action to be overruled by good intent. So it be. I shall take you along, dwarf. If we find survivors, we will bring them back their belongings.’’ And Einkill perked up after hearing this, jumping in the air and clapping his boots together. ‘’Aye then, lad! Let’s go!’’  Padlock, out of breath, pointed at the sky, and at the dark clouds covering a red-pink moon. ‘’-Go find a place to sleep.’’ The four now-friends went through the gates and searched high and low for a suiting resting place. Yet all they could find were torn-down bricks of white splattered with red. The ground was littered with broken pottery, weapons, and a bone, snapped in half here and there.  It made everyone uncomfortable, safe for Therr, who dimly sniffed through the ruins to find something. Padlock wondered what the hell he had done, for the gnoll to behave like this. It seemed to surprise the others as well.  ‘’Lord Padlock, may I ask what made the gnoll change his behaviour?’’ ‘’Nnnoooooo idea, Morg-buddy.’’  ‘’Wha’ever ya did, I’m glad. Now he won’t snap at us again.’’ ‘’Hope so, Einkill... Hey-’’ ‘’Ye?’’ ‘’Glad to have you on the team. Both of you.’’  On their way they passed a dark alley, which seemed surprisingly clean compared to the rest of the ravaged city. The others walked on ahead, but Padlock stood still as something caught his eye in the near-dark.  Books.  ‘’Guys... Hold up. Morg, did this place have libraries?’’ Padlock asked, nearing the darkened alleyway.  Morg stood still and nodded, turning his head to the building next to the small alley. Something in an unknown language was cut from the stone above the doorway. ‘’Yes.’’  Therr scurried over to the doorway and sniffed around inside. ‘’Smells like paper!’’ He yelled out. It hummed around inside of the dark building. ‘’Bleh!’’ He pulled his head out and sat near the entrance instead, sniffing at broken pottery that was scattered here and there.  Einkill took a good look around from a distance, and saw a couple of weathered and fallen-down statues in the midst of a large open space. ‘’Must’ve been the centre o’ town.’’  Padlock had walked over to the books, looking at the pile that was neatly stacked, with a puddle of dark-red flowing dangerously close by. Quickly, Padlock lifted the two books -who looked the most intact- in his own arms and carried them away, so that they wouldn’t get wet. He left the alley and re-joined his team.  ‘’Let’s sleep here.’’  Morg frowned, with one hand on the hilt of his great-axe. ‘’Why so? Should we not search for any survivors, or any lingering threats inside this city?’’ Therr turned himself to Morg, and his face seemed to change emotions every few seconds. He was thinking.  ‘’Nuh-uh! When gnolls attack, they leave nothing alive! No flee-people, no survivorrrrrs...-’’ - ‘’No corpses.’’ Padlock gulped. That explained the red.  Morg took one more good look around. ‘’Then we shall rest. I have not slept since I departed towards the forest.’’ He did indeed look very tired. Padlock, with the books still in his hands, entered the house closest to the library. It was a small, dingy white-stone building, but apart from the big hole in the front it was left mostly intact. Once inside, Padlock saw it had only a small couch, one bed and one small table in it.  ‘’Nice.’’ He laughed sarcastically. ‘’Guess we’ll have to take turns.’’ Therr noticed the small building, took a running start inside and threw himself onto the table, breaking it on half. He fell asleep shortly after. Einkill heard this and laughed so hard he started to cry. ‘’The wonders of nature!’’ He let out, and then leaned against one of the inner walls of the dingy house, wiping away the tears. He sat down on the nearly-torn bed and waited until his laughter simmered down. Morg sat down on the bench, letting out a deep sigh. He undid the weapons on his back and placed them against the wall next to him.  ‘’Sure ye’d sleep like that, lad?’’ Einkill asked, upon seeing Morg not taking off his armour. ‘’Why don’t ya take that stuff off and slip into somethin’ more... Comfortable?’’ Morg looked at Einkill with his usual strict expression.  ‘’No. I am most comfortable when I am impervious to most forms of attack.’’  Einkill smiled and raised his shoulders. ‘’I can get behind that.’’ Padlock leaned with his shoulder against the torn-down part of the building, staring at the ruined streets before him. He held the books tightly against himself.  ‘’Lord Padlock, you of all people should take some respite. I would gladly stand guard in your stead.’’ Padlock looked over his shoulder to Morg, which was quite difficult considering the green horn stuck on there, and slowly shook his head. ‘’No, Morg. Thank you, though. I’ll take Einkill’s advice and get rid of...’’ He looked at himself, and the ceremonial clothes that did not protect him from the elements, to say the least. He shivered, as the night was getting the dry, unpleasant kind of cold. ‘’Get rid of these. I’m gonna put on something new.’’  His tail flicked and hit the wall as he talked. Morg frowned. ‘’Be careful, Lord Padlock. Do you wish for me to guard you?’’ And once again Padlock shook his head.  ‘’Nah, thanks. Go take some rest. I’ll be back soon.’’ 

Padlock walked through the silent streets with one book under each arm. Despite all the carnage that had happened here, he found this place, in the dead of the night, to be a calm place. He didn’t know if that was the green talking or himself. He’d only wished to walk through Skrallingdjar when it was more, well... Alive. ‘’Shucks.’’ He sighed. ‘’Well, that sort of stuff can only happen to me, it seems.’’ He laughed it off as he walked around the town square. The broken-down statues, he thought, were telling him a story of prospering in times and places as dire as this. A story told by muted mouths, with years of delay, heard on deaf ears.  Padlock quickly walked on, until he found a building with fallen baskets in front of it. He knew what that meant. ‘’A shop.’’ He grinned. ‘’They must got some stuff. Sweet.’’ His thief-instinct bubbled up, and nearly he forgot that the horns on him even existed. For a small moment, he was once again a thief. One of opportunity, one of chance. And right he was. Inside the shop, when he put down the books somewhere on the corner of a table, he found a scarecrow, leaning lonely against a wall. All the stuff around the shop was scattered on the floor. The food, too. Breads, fruits and whatnot. No meat. Padlock scoffed. ‘’Gnolls.’’  The scarecrow was surprisingly untouched, and Padlock took that fact with utmost gratitude.  a few moments later, he had donned the clothes of the scarecrow, and tossed his own ceremonial robes to the floor like the useless scraps they were. Now at least, he had protection from the elements, and the marking on his chest was no longer seen. The tail and the horns on his shoulders, that was something to worry about for another day. He grabbed the books once more, and left the shop to find a place to read the books in peace.

Padlock came across a stone bench. He tried sitting on it, but his tail was in the way. He walked onward, and came across a broken wall, which he tried sitting on to balance the weight of his tail. That didn’t work either, for the small rocks sticking out of the wall were sharp and pointy. He walked onward once more. Then, Padlock stumbled past what appeared to be a watchtower. It stood somewhere along the outer wall. Padlock’s feet were getting tired and he needed a place to read these books. With a lack of other options, he pondered about how he could get up this tower. There were no stairs, as the tower consisted of one stone column, and the wooden ladder used to climb up the tower lay broken on the ground before him. It was probably destroyed during the attack.  Padlock thought and thought, walking around the watchtower again and again with the books under his arm. Then, he remembered.  ‘’I’ve gotten over that chasm before too, haven’t I? All I have to do is just- Turn into that bat-thing, and then I’m done!’’  So, with the books laid on the ground, he braced himself and shivered as he felt himself turning into the bat-like beast from before, squeaking and chittering with horns still protruding from his shoulders. He flapped clumsily for a few moments before grabbing the two books with his talons and flying upwards, spiralling up the watchtower and landing on its top with a thud.  Right on his face. But, at least he was on the tower. ‘’Need to work on that landing.’’ He joked to himself, and he opened the book and began reading. 

To his surprise, Padlock understood nothing of the book, despite it being filled to the brim with page upon page of manic scribbling, strange symbols and unsettling figures that brought a chill up Padlock’s spine. He went through page after page, reading but not comprehending, until he went to the last page. It was only covered in black ink, sprawled over the page with crude yet unnerving precision. Even the corners were covered. As Padlock tried making sense of this wreck of a book, he once again heard the humming from his horns. It seemed to be wanting to say something to him, yet it only sounded like blood rushing through his head. He touched the black page, and suddenly felt his hand being scorched in everything but physical form. Something painfully stung his hand and forced him to hold the book still while the dark page was suddenly being filled, line by rigid line, in a sickening green light.  It formed the shape of a horned demon-like being, with eyes that were but one colour, a tail of spikes, baring what appeared to be a gauntlet with ghastly whips around it. Padlock could not move his hand from the book, no matter how hard he tried yanking it away. It was only when the green out of his hand sprawled a name beneath the demon that he could let go: ‘’Unuthar, The Only True God, The Shameless, Bane of Rulers and Ruler of the Bane, Spiked Bringer of Faith. Swiftly may he return to join us in eternal flesh.’’ The horns on Padlock’s shoulders felt like they were tearing off his arms and the ones on his head nearly made his head burst. He slammed the accursed black book on the ground and stepped on it, trying to get rid of it once and for all. He looked on with a mix of relief and bewilderment when he stomped straight into a small heap of black ash and dust.  ‘’What... The hell?’’ He asked himself. The sting on his hand was all but gone, which he was very grateful for. After that... Happening, he almost felt hesitant to open the second book. But he knew that if he wanted answers, he needed to. This book was fragile, brittle. As if it had been handed from person to person over the centuries, and as if the book knew Padlock would be the last.  It had few pages in it, most either torn out, illegible or nonexistent. But those few pages that he could read, he studied with all the attention he could muster.  It looked like a diary of sorts, or maybe a journal. Whatever it was, this couldn’t have been written by a normal human’s hand. He read page upon page until he reached the one that struck his mind the most.  It was written with a blood-red ink, on a tar-black page. ‘’And when the One who is The Only Truth, Spreads out from the Mounts of Choul,  And entrusts only those of his Faith that he deems of worth,  That is when the Tarred Dragon will sprout from his cracked egg, To lead and spread us ever on.’’ So read the first verse. Padlock shuffled himself as he read on, leaning against the edge of the tower. He didn’t care. This book was already infinite times better than the previous, mostly because this one did not burn his hand in the slightest. In fact, it only blew his mind. He gulped, leaned back even more against the edge, and read the second verse as the world seemingly slid away around him. ‘’Thus when our Lord has been made flesh,  The hands on his horns will take their shape, Also to become the flesh moulded into flesh,  To become He Who Evokes, And He Who Gathers. They, the hands on Unuthar’s bright horns,  They become Riapsed and Modugno,  And They shall help our Lord claim and keep, What is rightfully ours to keep.’’ Second verse. Padlock’s eyes were fixed on the pages now. These words addled with him, entangled his attention with the letters. These texts had turned his world upside-down. Was this how he came to be? Who’d written this? Why was it here? He had so many questions that this book didn’t answer. But alas, a third verse remained. He flipped a page, and read on as he felt the sweat run up his spine. Every muscle inside him tensed up and his eyes were wide open against the page that was now almost glued to his hands, and to his eyes. He read on in the search of answers. ‘’So when the forlorn soul has been made of flesh, And kissed with the waters of a thousand-found guilt,  Struck in the heart and hit with the gift, Then that soul is reborn to us as Unuthar,  Reborn on the horned tops on the northern altar,  And that soul shall once again find its way to the Dark Mountain, Where Unuthar once arose before,  With the horde of lesser demons, our siblings, under its command, And they, our siblings in all but name, shall aid us, In rebirthing The Evoker and The Gatherer in a same amount of blood.’’

Padlock looked up from the last page of the tattered book when he heard a canid howl, far off into the night. He saw the grasslands far away from Skrallingdjar’s walls, but upside down. And when he looked at himself he wondered how the hell he spent all this time reading, subconsciously dangling from this watchtower, on his own tail.  No longer being enthralled by the verses brought him back to his senses. He was glad not to be completely under this ‘Only True God’s’’ control. He climbed back onto the railing of the tower, and breathed in the cold night air. 

‘’Well then, I best better get back before the sun comes up. The others need to know this.’’ When he closed the book down, it disintegrated like the first one did, and only a pile of dust was left which gathered on the ground below. Padlock thought of wether or not to go down yet, for he saw close to him the walls he could walk on, and another, taller tower.  ‘’A couple more minutes of rest couldn’t hurt.’’ He thought to himself, as he once more turned into the leathery bat-like beast with the horns, flying to the tallest tower in Skrallingdjar, which overlooked the entire city. Padlock could see where he and his friends had come from here: The city gates. He saw the hill this city was built against, its height nearly aligning with the crumbled temple up top. He even saw the library from here. Which was good, for now he had an advantage point. He leaned back against what was left of the tower, taking a couple of deep breaths and watching the smoke cloud out of his mouth. He laughed as he couldn’t help but remember the times he had overlooked a bustling, living city like this, when he was still a thief. Memories bubbled up, but were still stuck under a ooze-like layer of forgetfulness. But that wasn’t important now. Other things needed to come first before he could go back to that, if ever.  He had come far. Now to go even further.

Padlock silently stared ahead into the night, waiting for the morning.

[livingcorner]

How to Prep Soil for a Vegetable Garden

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You're reading: How to Prep Soil for a Vegetable Garden

How to Prepare Soil for a Garden: Rich, Crumbly Soil

You can grow some crops in clay and you can grow some crops in sand. But most crops grow best in rich, crumbly loam soil teeming with life (earthworms and microbes, for instance). Amending the soil with compost, and other soil builders such as shredded leaves is one way to gradually build up a productive soil.

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Sandy Soil

Sandy soil allows plenty of air to reach plant roots. The problem is, the soil drains quickly, losing both moisture and nutrients. Build it up by adding compost and shredded leaves regularly over time. You can also augment with peat moss.

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Clay Soil

Unlike sandy soil, clay soil holds moisture well—sometimes too well. Fine soil particles stick together, allowing little room for drainage or for air to reach plant roots. The solution is to break up the soil and add lots of organic matter such as compost, shredded leaves, peat moss and gypsum over time.

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Read more: How to Kill Weeds Without Hurting Your Garden

Tilling

Tilling is a great way to break up the soil and incorporate soil amendments, as well to correct nutrient or pH imbalances. It is important, however, not to overdo it. Repeatedly tilling the same soil will result in a fine, powdery dust that dries up and packs hard like concrete when dry weather follows rain.

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Avoid Tilling Wet Soil

This may appear to be self-evident, but never till wet soil. In spring, eager gardeners sometimes try to “work” the soil earlier than they should. This is not only messy, it can severely damage the soil’s structure, inhibiting plant growth in the future. Wait until the soil has had a chance to dry out a bit before working it.

Drainage problems? Read our solutions.

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Double Digging

Double digging is an old practice for improving the drainage and aeration of poor soil. Basically, you remove a row of soil to a depth of about 1 foot, saving the excavated soil on a tarp. Then you loosen the hardpan subsoil (a dense layer of soil, usually found below the uppermost topsoil layer) in that trench with a spading fork. Once that is done you move to the next row, removing 1 foot of topsoil, depositing it in the trench next to it, then loosening the subsoil with a spading fork. You repeat this process until you reach the end of the bed, at which point you use the reserved soil on the tarp to backfill the final trench.

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The Best Soil for a Vegetable Garden and Root Crops

Double digging may seem like a lot of work (and it is!) but once it’s done, you won’t have to repeat it. And it’s one way of making a bed more hospitable to root crops such as carrots. Of course, you could also search for a sandy site. Or build a raised bed and avoid the problem altogether.

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Raised-Bed Gardens

Raised-bed vegetable gardens solve a number of issues, including our last one. If you’ve got poor soil, you can avoid dealing with it entirely by building raised beds, then filling them with a custom mix of soil ideally suited to what you are growing. Your expense in materials may be a good tradeoff for what you save in labor. Also, raised beds warm up more quickly in spring so you can plant earlier. And they’re not overrun with migrating turf. One drawback: raised beds dry out more quickly than the ground.

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Irrigation

Vegetable gardens are highly dependent on moisture. A good soil mix with plenty of organic matter will, in fact, hold more moisture. You can also add moisture-holding crystals. But irrigation is a good idea, especially if you’re sometimes too busy to water by hand. A drip irrigation system, like the one shown, is easy to install and keeps moisture at ground level where there’s less evaporation and less chance of encouraging diseases with wet foliage. You can even attach it to a timer so you know exactly how much water you are providing. Read more about installing an irrigation system.

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Read more: Are Ladybugs Good for the Garden?

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Seeding

Try to use the fresh seed for best germination. Germination rates go down each year for most seeds, so plan on sowing more than recommended if using up older seed. Larger seeds easily can be sown by hand, while smaller seeds are often scattered with a seed dispenser. It’s easier to track seeds and keep them in place if you prepare slightly indented rows like those shown. With very small seeds, you might sow with a bit of sand so you can see where you’ve sown the seeds.

Read more about starting seeds.

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Weeding

There are several ways to keep weeds at bay. One is through hoeing—that is, lightly scratching the soil with a garden tool to dislodge emerging weeds. This has to be done regularly—before weeds can develop their renowned root systems—and carefully when you’re working around young vegetable plants. Once your vegetables are sprouted, you can mulch the plants or spread Preen for Vegetables, which will keep other seeds from germinating.

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No-Work Gardening

Finally, we leave you with no-work vegetable gardening, also called the Ruth Stout Method. It was named after an organic gardener who championed the idea of heavily mulching your vegetable garden. In other words, compost in place. The idea is to pile your kitchen scraps, leaves, hay, clippings, etc. in the garden and let them slowly break down in place. This, in turn, nourishes the soil and builds up the organic content so it holds moisture for longer periods during drought. No watering, no fertilizing, no turning compost. Sounds good to us!

Originally Published: March 18, 2019

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Source: https://livingcorner.com.au Category: Garden

source https://livingcorner.com.au/how-to-prep-soil-for-a-vegetable-garden/

[goodlucktai]

Are you taking any prompts? If so, what about a situation where touko finds out about Natsume seeing youkai, and convinces him that everything is alright? I need that kind if sweetness right now haha although I'll probably be crying by the end XD If you're not taking prompts or if you don't want to do this, it's perfectly fine :> Thanks for your time :)

i had several prompts like this one ! i sort of let it get away from me, i hope its okay :’) 

x

The next time Touko sees Sana-chan, she’s armed to the teeth with photos.

Shigeru got that old camera of his working after all, and the album Touko passes across the table to Sana-chan is full of candids - Takashi on the porch playing with Nyankichi, Takashi’s friends sprawled across his bedroom floor the morning after a big sleepover, Takashi laughing with Shigeru over a sink of sudsy dinner dishes.

Sana-chan flips through the pictures with all the enthusiasm Touko could have hoped for, a smile filling her round face as she gushes “what a handsome boy!” and “your house must be so lively these days!” and “I can’t wait to meet him!”

And Touko is warmed all the way home, resolving to ask Shigeru and Takashi what they would think of having Sana-chan and her family over for dinner in the near future.

As if summoned by the thought, Takashi’s voice drifts through the autumn air towards her from the riverbank. Curiously, Touko steps off the road into the grass to follow it to the source - Takashi did say a friend was visiting from the mountain, but surely he knows his friend would be welcome at the house - and steps to the edge of the sloping embankment, peering down.

She spots him right away, smiling a little at the way he sticks out against the dull color of the river, with his fair hair and pastel pink jacket. Takashi is sitting with two of his friends, the three of them grouped around the edge of a strange circle drawn in the damp clay, and they’re pink with laughter and bright-eyed in the warm afternoon, and talking to -

a little green person. With a beak, and tortoise-like carapace, and webbed hands, and a wet plate atop its head amidst a mop of tangled, seaweed-green curls. It hands Takashi a flapping fish and says, “I caught this for you, boss!”

“Thank you,” Takashi says dryly, and tosses the fish back into the water without ado.

Oh, Touko thinks, hands flying to her mouth in surprise. And the first thing she thinks of, impossibly, is the crow.

“I’ve never seen a white one before,” Takashi said that day, guileless and unguarded as he smiled into the sky at a creature Touko couldn’t seem to find. “It’s beautiful.”

“I can’t believe it!” Tooru says brightly, jolting Touko out of her shock. The girl is clapping her hands together in delight, moving to her knees and bowing politely in greeting. “I’ve always wanted to meet a kappa!”

The creature hurries to follow suit, bowing low to Tooru in return. Touko watches, eyes wide, as Takashi says, “No don’t - ” and the water spills from the plate on the kappa’s head into the earthy clay underfoot.

The creature flails, making a piteous noise, and then it seems to be trapped in place, small torso curved over the ground, quivering. Takashi gets up with a long-suffering sigh.

“Some of the myth is true, but not all of it,” he explains, as though he’s explaining particularly complicated schoolwork. He cups his hands in the river, and carries cool water back with him. His friends watch avidly as Takashi wets the kappa’s headplate again, and delight when the little thing springs back up to its feet.

“He won’t attack you,” Takashi goes on calmly, “he’s a little sillier than his cousins. His arms aren’t particularly weak, either, but he’s not very good at wrestling, and as far as I can tell he doesn’t care much for cucumbers. And he tends to stray too far from his river. If you ever see me dumping water out on the ground for no apparent reason - ”

“We have,” Kaname says with a smile he doesn’t bother trying to hide. “We just didn’t ask.”

Takashi blinks, and something soft and uncertain graces the delicate features of his face. He rubs a hand through his hair and says, “You can ask. From now on, I mean.”

The spirit between them steps out of the circle toward the water’s edge and disappears from view with a mighty splash - Touko’s hands are still hovering over her mouth, and she manages to muffle the startled noise that threatens to give her away.

Takashi flicks water out of his eyes with a scowl, and his friends laugh - and oh, but they’re not surprised in the least by all this, and Tooru even has something of a little picnic set up at her side. Touko can hear her murmuring “I feel so silly for bringing all this squash, now. I read so much about kappa last night, I was sure he’d like it.”

And Touko can’t help but think of Takashi as the boy she first met, not so long ago - all alone in the middle of a cold night. How thin and pale and colorless he was then, lifting glass eyes to meet hers and looking straight through her at something else.

He is always looking straight through at something else. Whether it’s crows, or kappa, or something less lovely, something less harmless, Takashi has probably been able to see them since he was very, very young. And while it doesn’t excuse the people who mistreated him, doesn’t forgive them in the slightest, Touko can suddenly understand, just a little bit, why her sweet, gentle, giving boy had such a hard time growing up - was never quite wanted, never quite normal.

And her heart aches, watching how easily Takashi can talk about the river spirit (one that is clambering back into the muddy circle with an armful of fish) and how hard it is for Takashi to switch gears and talk to his friends about trusting them.

It is always so hard for him. Touko is making her way down the grassy slope even before the kappa points towards her and says, “Boss? Who’s that?”

And while Tooru and Kaname spring to their feet as if electrified - both of them moving, to hide the kappa from view and scuff out the strange circle respectively - Takashi looks frozen in place. His hands are limp where they were resting on his folded knees, face so pale he might have been sculpted out of snow.

He looks like someone watching their world end.

Well. Touko may be very new at this - may not have the experience Atsushi’s mother has at righting wrongs and mending impossible hurts - and she’s certain they don’t make parenting books for a child’s dealings with yokai - but now isn’t the time to worry.

Now is the time to kneel next to her son, tucking her skirt in neatly, neverminding all the mud - to ignore the way his frightened expression digs sharp fingers into her heart, and reach out to him with a gentle hand.

Takashi flinches, and it hurts her, but it’s a selfish hurt and one she buries quickly. The short time he’s been with her won’t be enough to unlearn the lessons he’s been taught up until now, and she can’t afford to forget that. She doesn’t let herself falter, and only continues until her fingers are cradling the soft curve of his cheek, and Touko waits patiently for Takashi to find the courage to look at her.

Kaname and Tooru are holding their breath. After one long minute passes into two, Takashi lifts his eyes.

He’s transparent to her now, the way he didn’t used to be. Guileless and unguarded, the way he was when he saw something beautiful in their backyard. And if this secret world of his can give him beautiful things as much as it takes away from him, then Touko can find it in herself to make peace with it.

Touko looks over, and finds the kappa peering over Kaname’s shoulder - its webbed hands pressed into the back of his shoulder, leaning up on the tips of its feet to peer at Touko. The creature’s eyes are wide and curious, very much like the eyes of the children kappa are said to eat. Touko can’t find it in herself to fear the little thing, and looks back at Takashi with that knowledge clear in her smile.

“And I thought you told me you’ve introduced me to all of your friends,” she scolds lightly, teasing him. “After Kei and Katsumi, I was sure I had met everyone. You really are such a popular boy.”

Kaname and Tooru let out shaky breaths, and beam at one another, and then at Touko. Takashi looks as though he’s forgotten how to speak, and so Touko leans back and takes her hand away.

“Actually, I have a question!” When she tilts her head towards the kappa, it points at itself, as if to make sure it’s the one she’s addressing. It makes Touko smile. “Yes, you. You know, I used to hate ginger when I was a child, but my father could always convince me to eat it by telling me it would ward kappa away. Is that true?”

The kappa considers that seriously for a moment, then says, “It’s true. I hate ginger.”

“I wonder if you’re the best kappa to ask,” Kaname puts in dryly, “since we found out you’re not good at wrestling, don’t so much as pretend to keep to your river, and have never tried to drown a single human.”

The kappa squawks, as if in offense. With its handfuls of wriggling fish, the sight is both cute and comical. Touko feels herself warming to the odd creature, with its human mannerisms and the way it seems more comfortable with this group of mortal youngsters than its own kind.

Tooru draws its attention to her picnic basket, and Kaname follows them to it - both children well-versed in the art of subtlety, giving Touko room to sit quietly with Takashi in an unobtrusive, and undemanding silence.

“There are more like it, aren’t there?” Touko says after a moment. “More spirits like this one?”

Takashi’s head jerks in a nod. Touko hums.

“And they’re not all kind to you, are they?”

“Not - ” He swallows, and tries again. “Not all of them. They’re the same way people are. Different personalities and experiences. It’s not - I can’t lump them together. They’re not kind or unkind, they’re just alive, in a different way than we are.” His eyes dart to Touko, but only for a second, and then he’s back to staring at his hands. “I know it’s - I know it’s strange. I know it’s a lot. I’m sorry.”

“Oh, Takashi,” Touko says, aching for him. “All those times you came home with dirty clothes, how easily you seem to get hurt. This is your home now, and I want it to be safe for you. Is there anything I can do? Should we get talismans for the house? Oh, but then your friendly spirits couldn’t see you, could they?” She presses a hand to the side of her face, truly feeling out of her depth. “Oh, I should ask Shigeru-san. He’ll know what to do about all of this, he’s much more level-headed than I am. Don’t worry though, Takashi,” Touko adds, trying to sound sure of herself. “Whatever you need, you’ll have it.”

Takashi finally gives up the careful study of his hands, and stares at her fully. His eyes are moonlike beneath his long, untidy fringe as he whispers, “Are you even real?”

And Touko wraps up the pain in her chest and ties a fierce knot around it, to unpack and shed tears over later, when she can afford to grieve for all the things Takashi can’t seem to bring himself to trust.

For now, she gives her son a smile.

“You believe in such impossible things,” she tells him, full of fondness and faint anger and sorrow and love. “Surely you can believe in this, too.”

Takashi ducks his head, and when he moves he’s moving closer instead of farther away; leaning into her side with all the weight of a warm, shuddering shadow. If he’s crying, he’s utterly silent about it. Touko rests her cheek in the softness of his hair and watches the odd and peaceful picture Tooru and Kaname and the yokai make, digging through a picnic basket and sharing treats with one another from within the far side of the circle.

“You know, the timing of this is uncanny,” Touko says playfully, aiming to lighten the mood just a little. “I was going to ask you if you wanted to meet a friend of mine from middle school. I showed her my photo album today during our lunch date, and she wants to get to know you! Her name is Sana-chan, and she has a boy about your age. Unfortunately, it probably won’t be quite as exciting as meeting a kappa, but I think it will be still be plenty of fun.”

“Of course, if it’s no trouble, I’d like to meet her, too,” Takashi says immediately, as eager to please as always. And then, after a moment’s pause, he goes on, “Wait. You showed her the photo album? Touko-san, most of those pictures are of me. You didn’t let her see the one of Nishimura kissing me, did you? Touko-san?”

Touko presses a hand to her mouth to hide her smile and admits, “That one was Sana-chan’s favorite.”

Takashi lifts his head to gape at her, every inch an aggrieved, embarrassed teenager where a wounded, world-weary creature was hunkered moments ago. “Touko-san! It’s bad enough that Kitamoto sent it to everyone we know - ”

“What’s a photo album?” the kappa asks, its hands full of crumbling croquettes it seems to have traded its fish for. Tooru looks up with a wicked gleam in her eyes, and Kaname seems to be the only one willing to commiserate with poor Takashi, shooting him a sympathetic look as Takashi watches in horror Touko haul the album out of her bag cheerfully.

“You’re carrying it around with you?”

“Come over here and see, Kappa-san,” Touko says, and even moves forward to the edge of the circle so the little green creature can sit beside her and lean in to stare at the glossy pages that lay open in her lap. “Isn’t my Takashi handsome? Look at how photogenic he is.”

“Ooh,” Tooru says eagerly, peering from Touko’s other side, “are some of these new?”

“What’s photogenic?” the kappa asks, and Takashi buries his face in Kaname’s shoulder.

But he seems to give into laughter after a moment, his shoulders shaking. It's a soft sound that grows louder, until Takashi is tipping his head back and falling into it, and Touko wishes she had the camera with her.

[kurtzbros-blog]

Understanding Soil Types

Want to create a better growth environment for the plants in your landscape? You can start by going to the root of the matter and understanding different soil types. The primary components of soil include silt, sand, and clay. The very best soils have balanced amounts of each component. The sandy parts allow for better drainage, while the clay holds the soil together, and the silt provides extra nutrients.

Unless you've purchased the perfect mix of rich loam from Kurtz Bros., Inc., it's likely that your soil in your backyard, front yard, or garden has a larger portion of one of those three components. Knowing the soil type you have is key to creating a healthy environment for vegetables, flowers, or other plants to thrive.

Sandy Soil

Sandy soil, as the name implies, has a higher percentage of sand than silt and clay. This means that water tends to drain quickly and completely from the soil. A lack of drainage can result in water pooling around the plants, causing an excess of moisture and potential rot and mold. But too much sand results in rapid draining of the water, so the plants don't have time to get their fill.

Sandy soils are considered less fertile than other soil types, but they do thaw and warm swiftly in the spring. Plus, this type of soil is lighter and easier to dig through. Try vegetables with deep roots, such as parsnips, potatoes, and carrots, as well as strawberries, peppers, corn, lettuce, and squash. For florals, try Russian sage, sedum, larkspur, phlox, butterfly weed, lavender, black-eyed Susans, and salvia.

Silty Soil

Soft, rich, and thick, silty soil tends to be packed with nutrients for plants. Silty soil can be delightful for gardening, but it sometimes has drainage issues, and it tends to be quite dense. You'll need to make sure that you enact proper stormwater management and provide some structure for the garden beds.

If you've got silty soil, you can work with climbers and perennials, as well as trees like dogwood, cypress, birch, and willow. Roses, bulb flowers, and ferns also do well in silty soil, as do many different types of vegetables and fruit trees.

Clay Soil

Like silty soil, clay soil holds water well—almost too well. Clay soil can be very thick when it's wet, but when it's dry, it turns extremely hard. It's tough to keep clay soil properly aerated. If you can manage to keep the clay adequately drained and incorporate enough air spaces between the particles, you can grow plenty of different vegetables and flowers. Mixing some sand or mulch into the garden beds may help with aeration. Try summer vegetables like beans, carrots, and beets, You could also grow fruit trees, ornamental shrubs, or rice.

No matter what the condition of your soil may currently be, Kurtz Bros. has what you need to improve it. There's compost if the soil needs enrichment, mulch for protecting your plants and trees, and a variety of soil mixes including all-weather planting mix, all-purpose topsoil, and our professional blend lawn and garden mix. We can also make you a custom soil blend! Order online or call today if you have any questions about enhancing your landscape's soil.

[captaingardening100-blog]

Cucumbers

New Post has been published on https://gardenguideto.com/awesome/cucumbers/

Cucumbers

An easy-care vegetable that loves sun and water, cucumbers grow speedily as long as they receive consistent watering and warmth. Most ranges will grow in any sum of space, thanks to the plant’s ability to climb. Of course, these prolific veggies are perfect for pickling!

There are two types of cucumber plants: vining cucumbers and bush cucumbers. The most common varieties grow on vigorous vines shaded by big leaves. The growth of these plants is fast, and the crop yield is abundant if you care for them properly. Vining assortments grow up a trellis or fencing. They will be cleaner–versus those that grow atop soil–often more prolific, and easier to pick.

Bush cucumbers, however, are nicely suited to containers and small gardens. Make successive plantings( every two weeks for continued harvests ). In already-warm summer soil, cucumbers will grow quickly and ripen in about six weeks!

If you’re interested in making pickles, we recommend several prolific varieties below that are bred especially for pickling, such as heirloom’ Boston Pickling’. For crispy pickles, be sure to prepare them within a few hours of harvesting!

Planting

When to Plant Cucumbers Cucumber plants should be seeded or transplanted outside in the ground no earlier than 2 weeks after the last frost date. Cucumbers are extremely susceptible to frost and cold injury; the clay must be at least 70 oF for germination. Do not plant outside too soon! To get a head start, sow cucumber seeds indoors about 3 weeks before you transplant them in the ground. They like bottom hot of about 70 oF( 21 oC ). If you don’t have a heat mat, put the seeds flat on top of the refrigerator or perch a few on top of the water heater. Prefer and Preparing a Planting Site Select a site with full sunlight. Cucumbers need warmth and lots of light. Cucumbers necessitate fertile soil. Mix in compost and/ or aged manure before planting to a depth of 2 inches and work into the soil 6 to 8 inches deep. Make sure that soil is moist and well-drained , not soggy and compacted. Clay should be neutral or slightly alkaline with a pH of around 7.0. Improve clay clay by adding organic materials. Improve dense, heavy soil by adding peat, compost, or rotted manure.( Get a soil test if you are unsure of your soil type; contact your local county cooperative extension .) Light, sandy clays are preferred for northern gardens, as they warm speedily in the spring. See our guide to soil amendments. How to Plant Cucumbers Plant seeds 1 inch deep and about 2 to 3 feet apart in a row, depending on variety( assure seed packet for details ). For vines developed on a trellis, space plants 1 foot apart. Cucumber can also be planted in mounds( or “hills”) that are spaced 1 to 2 feet apart, with 2 to 3 seeds planted in each mound. Once plants reach 4 inches in height, thin them to one plant per mound. If you live in the cooler climates, you can help warm the soil by covering the hill or row with black plastic. After planting, mulch around the area with straw, chopped foliages, or another organic mulch to keep pests at bay, and also keep bush types off the ground to avoid disease. A trellis is a good idea if you want the vine to climb, or if you have limited space. Trellising also protects the fruit from damage from lying on the moist ground. See how to build a trellis and support for vining vegetables. Encompas freshly planted cucumber seeds with netting or a berry basket if you have pests; this will keep them from digging out the seeds.

Care

How to Grow Cucumbers The main care requirement for cucumbers is water–consistent watering! They need at the least one inch of water per week( or more, if temperatures are sky-high ). Put your thumb in the soil and when it is dry past the first joint of your thumb, it is time to water. Inconsistent watering leads to bitter-tasting fruit. Water slowly in the morning or early afternoon, avoiding the leaves so that you don’t encourage leaf diseases that can ruin the plant. If possible, water your cucumbers with a soaker hose or drip irrigation to keep the foliage dry. Mulch to hold in soil moisture. When seedlings emerge, begin to water frequently, and increase to a gallon per week after fruit kinds. When seedlings reach 4 inches tall, thin plants so that they are at least 11/2 feet apart. If you’ve ran organic matter into the soil before planting, you may merely need to side-dress your plants with compost or well-rotted manure. If you wish, use a liquid fertilizer from your garden store such as vegetable plant food which is low nitrogen/ high potassium and phosphorus formula. Apply at planting, 1 week after bloom, and every 3 weeks, immediately to the soil around the plants. Or, you can work a granular fertilizer into the soil. Do not over-fertilize or the fruit will get stunted. If you have limited space or would prefer vertical vines, set up trellises early to avoid damage to seedlings and vines. Spray vines with sugar water to attract bees and define more fruit.

Pests/ Diseases

Little or No Fruit: If your cucumber plants do not set fruit, it’s not usually a disease. There is probably a pollination issue. The first flowers were all male. Both female and male flowers must be blooming at the same time. This may not happen early in the plant’s life, so be patient.( Female blooms are the ones with a small cucumber-shaped swelling at the base that will become the fruit .) Lack of fruit may also be due to poor pollination by bees, especially due to rain or cold temperatures, or insecticides. To assured us, you were able to always hand pollinate.( Dip a Q-tip into the male pollen and transfer it to the center of the female flower .) Remember, gynoecious hybrids necessitate companion pollinator plants.

Squash glitches may assault seedlings. Aphids are always a nuisance for any vegetable plant but easily managed. Powdery mildew can be a problem if the leaves get wet( water at the soil level ). Apply fungicides at the first sign of its presence. Cucumber Beetles may assault the vines and can cause disease.

Harvest/ Storage

How to Harvest Cucumbers Don’t let cucumbers get too large or they will taste bitter. At peak harvesting time, you should be picking cucumbers every got a couple of days. They’ll grow speedily! Harvest regular slicing cucumbers when they about 6 to 8 inches long( slicing varieties ). Harvest dills at 4 to 6 inches long and pickling cucumbers at 2 inches long. The large burpless cucumbers is also available up to 10 inches long and some forms are even larger.

Cucumbers are best picked before their seeds become hard and are feed when immature. Do not let them get yellow. A cucumber is of highest quality when it is uniformly green, firm, and crisp. Any cucumbers left on the vine too long will also get tough scalps and lower plant productivity. How to pick? Using a knife or clippers, cut the stem above the fruit. Pulling the fruit may damage the vine. Hold them picked. If you don’t, as plants mature, they will stop producing. How to Store Cucumbers Cucumbers are over 90 percentage water. Store wrapped tightly in plastic wrap to retain moisture. They will keep for a few weeks to 10 days when stored properly in the refrigerator.

Recommended Variety

‘ Burpless Bush Hybrid’ is a popular bush form of cucumber. ‘Boston Pickling’ is our favorite heirloom assortment bred especially for pickling. We also recommend disease-resistant’ Sassy’ or’ Calypso’ for early yields. Long, thin’ Parisian Pickling’ is great for stimulating gherkins or cornichons. Lemon cucumber is a smaller cucumber many folks find reliable.

Read more: almanac.com