#the horse has. plastic googly eyes
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Rocket horses...?
#the horse has. plastic googly eyes#flight traffic controller ass#it can also be one stick and collapse because of course it does#cargo pants full of evil#casually stealing your superhero rivals look except your headset is noise canceling and cooler and better#this gyro/md iteration is very fond of spray paint#cher duckverse redesigns#mad ducktor#accidentally gives him kid cosmic drip
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Tagged by: @fvckinandroids @theveryfirst @androidwithangerissues
APOLLO glitz and glamour. art galleries. turning the volume up. being made of gold. neatly organized music sheets. notebooks filled with poetry. bathing in the sunlight. the powerful urge to create. collecting vinyl records. beautiful cover of wonderwall. playing multiple instruments. tasting like sunshine. healing touch. speaking in prophecies. smile mingled with wrath. shunning lies. sporting shades. hanging out at music festivals with their friends. sleeps naked. arrow to the heart. paint brushes. probably has a tinder account.
ARES armed for battle. wants to raise a dog with their significant other. soft spot for children. gives piggyback rides. scarred body. blood on their hands and face. willing to fight the world for the ones they love. fights against injustice. warm hugs. well worn combat boots. boxing gloves. bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles. fist raised in protest. ignites revolutions. fear is a prison. more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think. exhausted. damaged goods. force to be reckoned with. red roses.curses under their breath.
ARTEMIS keen sense of a hunter. freckles like constellations on their skin. piercing eyes. disheveled braid. moonlight peeking through the shadows. the calm of the forest at night. lying on the grass and staring at the stars. mother doe and her fawn. Protecting their kin. the moon shimmering on a still lake. quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree. running with wolves. bonding while circled around a campfire. not being much of a people person. arrow hitting a target. popping egos. patience on 3%. touches heaven and returns howling.
ATHENA discerning gaze. unreadable face. quiet museums. owl perched on their finger. armor that intimidates. eye for architecture. plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses. studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid. big fan of logic. loves brain teasers. ancient buildings. sweaters in neutrals and cool colors. hair done up.can kill you with their brain. heads to the library often to research. sharpened pencils. abs that can cut steel. stoic statues. pottery classes.
DEMETER soil covered hands. smile that can bloom flowers. skin loved by the sun. being the mom friend. can lift you and your friends. flowers kept in the pockets of overalls. takes pride in their beautiful garden. speaks to their plants. leaves rustling in the wind. stalks of wheat. picking fruit. greenhouses. heart as strong as a mountain. values simplicity. daisies dotted across a collarbone. curls crowned with flowers. folded pile of sweaters in warm hues. pulling out fresh baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.
DIONYSUS drunk shitposter. on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second. seductive smirks. untamed curls. rich fabrics on dark skin. sleek furred panthers. theatre masks. stage productions. receiving a standing ovation. rose caught between their teeth. being the baby of the bunch. wild parties that last from sundown to sunup. creeping vines. inspiring loyalty. grand opera houses. masquerade balls. rolls of film. shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine spilled floor. pouring champagne into flutes. lives for the applause.
HEPHAESTUS the calloused hands of someone who knows labor. sweaty brow. flame burning in their eyes. inventive mind. broad shoulders. steampunk goggles. nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes. ashes. striking a match. blueprints for future projects. fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades. wrestles with bitterness. work boots have seen better years. wrinkled plaid shirts. iron melted in blazing fire. huge jackets. crafting masterpieces. greased stained overalls. fascination with robotics. pain is fuel. stack of weaponry. even their muscles have muscles.
HERA resting bitch face. dressed to the nines. cows grazing on a pasture. cool rain. loving and hating fiercely. hand clutching a string of pearls. large chandelier with glittering crystals. plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims. romance to realism. pictures of the sky while flying on a plane. files that under fuck it. downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix. like their selfie or you’re grounded. knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man. dark eyes that penetrate your soul. marble and gold.
HERMES devil-may-care smile, always up-to-date on the latest technology. will steal your french fries. does it for the vine. shitposter. puts googly eyes on everything. meme hoarder. long drives on the highway. ma and pop diners. spontaneous road trips. folded maps. fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop. shooting hoops on the basketball court. chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations. goes jogging in the morning. mixes redbull with coffee. menace on april fool’s. hoodies and sneakers.
POSEIDON storm with skin. colorful coral reefs. waves crashing against the shore. stroking the soft fur of a cat. their heart pounding as their horse ’ s gentle trot speeds into a gallop. tousled locks. clothes smeared with paint. owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more. leather jackets. fondness for diy projects. handwriting that flows across the page. nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin. velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams. mood as ever-changing as the sea. the roar of a motorcycle. compass with a spinning arrow.
ZEUS thunder in their heart. running on coffee. flash of lightning. un-natural charisma. eloquence. badass in a nice suit. aficionado of history. force of nature. lenny face. nightmare-filled nights. proud arm around their lover’s waist. high-rise buildings. planes soaring through a cloudless sky. technician on the piano. maintains order. strong handshake. juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease. expensive watch.
Tagging: @pl-android @detroit-pd-rk900 @cptallen @ask-captain-allen @those-fucking-plastic-prick @anxious-rk @forensic-boi @detroitdetectivereed @ask-ruthless-chloedbh @bitchgav @pricktive @detective-gavreed @ask-cain-rk1k @blue-bellflower @ask-humanrichard-dbh @pcacekept and anyyyone wearing black!
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tagging game
Tagged by: @chenyounot
//Disclaimer: I don’t really know how aesthetic work...//
APOLLO glitz and glamour. art galleries. turning the volume up. being made of gold. neatly organized music sheets. notebooks filled with poetry. bathing in the sunlight. the powerful urge to create. collecting vinyl records. beautiful cover of wonderwall. playing multiple instruments. tasting like sunshine. healing touch.speaking in prophecies. smile mingled with wrath. shunning lies. sporting shades. hanging out at music festivals with their friends. sleeps naked. arrow to the heart. paint brushes. probably has a tinder account.
ARES armed for battle. wants to raise a dog with their significant other. soft spot for children. gives piggyback rides. scarred body. blood on their hands and face. willing to fight the world for the ones they love. fights against injustice. warm hugs. well worn combat boots. boxing gloves. bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles. fist raised in protest. ignites revolutions. fear is a prison. more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think. exhausted. damaged goods. force to be reckoned with. red roses.curses under their breath.
ARTEMIS keen sense of a hunter. freckles like constellations on their skin. piercing eyes. disheveled braid. moonlight peeking through the shadows. the calm of the forest at night. lying on the grass and staring at the stars. mother doe and her fawn. Protecting their kin. the moon shimmering on a still lake. quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree. running with wolves. bonding while circled around a campfire. not being much of a people person. arrow hitting a target. popping egos. patience on 3%. touches heaven and returns howling.
ATHENA discerning gaze. unreadable face. quiet museums. owl perched on their finger. armor that intimidates. eye for architecture. plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses. studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid. big fan of logic. loves brain teasers. ancient buildings. sweaters in neutrals and cool colors. hair done up.can kill you with their brain. heads to the library often to research. sharpened pencils. abs that can cut steel. stoic statues. pottery classes.
DEMETER soil covered hands. smile that can bloom flowers. skin loved by the sun. being the mom friend. can lift you and your friends. flowers kept in the pockets of overalls. takes pride in their beautiful garden. speaks to their plants. leaves rustling in the wind. stalks of wheat. picking fruit. greenhouses. heart as strong as a mountain. values simplicity. daisies dotted across a collarbone. curls crowned with flowers. folded pile of sweaters in warm hues. pulling out fresh baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.
DIONYSUS drunk shitposter. on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second. seductive smirks. untamed curls. rich fabrics on dark skin. sleek furred panthers. theatre masks. stage productions. receiving a standing ovation. rose caught between their teeth. being the baby of the bunch. wild parties that last from sundown to sunup. creeping vines. inspiring loyalty. grand opera houses. masquerade balls. rolls of film. shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine spilled floor. pouring champagne into flutes. lives for the applause.
HEPHAESTUS the calloused hands of someone who knows labor. sweaty brow. flame burning in their eyes. inventive mind. broad shoulders. steampunk goggles. nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes. ashes. striking a match. blueprints for future projects. fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades. wrestles with bitterness. work boots have seen better years. wrinkled plaid shirts. iron melted in blazing fire. huge jackets. crafting masterpieces. greased stained overalls. fascination with robotics. pain is fuel. stack of weaponry. even their muscles have muscles.
HERA resting bitch face. dressed to the nines. cows grazing on a pasture. cool rain. loving and hating fiercely. hand clutching a string of pearls. large chandelier with glittering crystals. plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims. romance to realism. pictures of the sky while flying on a plane. files that under fuck it. downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix. like their selfie or you’re grounded. knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man. dark eyes that penetrate your soul. marble and gold.
HERMES devil-may-care smile, always up-to-date on the latest technology. will steal your french fries. does it for the vine. shitposter. puts googly eyes on everything. meme hoarder. long drives on the highway. ma and pop diners. spontaneous road trips. folded maps. fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop. shooting hoops on the basketball court. chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations. goes jogging in the morning. mixes redbull with coffee. menace on april fool’s. hoodies and sneakers.
POSEIDON storm with skin. colorful coral reefs. waves crashing against the shore. stroking the soft fur of a cat. their heart pounding as their horse ’ s gentle trot speeds into a gallop. tousled locks. clothes smeared with paint. owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more. leather jackets. fondness for diy projects. handwriting that flows across the page. nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin. velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams. mood as ever-changing as the sea. the roar of a motorcycle. compass with a spinning arrow.
ZEUS thunder in their heart. running on coffee. flash of lightning. un-natural charisma. eloquence. badass in a nice suit. aficionado of history. force of nature. lenny face. nightmare-filled nights. proud arm around their lover’s waist. high-rise buildings. planes soaring through a cloudless sky. technician on the piano. maintains order. strong handshake. juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease. expensive watch.
Tagging: //Why everybody already tagged everybody? I don’t know many blogs yet, so here are some I’m curious about...
@those-fucking-plastic-prick @ask-ruthless-chloedbh @ask-prototype-twins @connor-but-a-top @leo-calm-down @ask-uncle-hank-dbh @itsafuckingnovel @inactivestatus-rq800
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Lovevery Box 3 (The Sensor Playkit for ages 5 - 6 months) - Recreating the Box
I truly believe that Loveevery is a great brand, I believe it sends wonderful, high-quality toys that are great for a child’s development and I have absolutely nothing against the brand… except for the price. One Lovevery box costs $106 to have delivered to Canada, which in my option is A LOT. So, I set myself to the task of re-creating the Lovevery boxes for my daughter myself with a budget of $106. I started with the 5/6 month box as I felt my daughter had enough toys now, and didn’t see the need in re-creating that box. I will give two cost breakdowns in this blog post, the cost I paid to re-create this box (I got some of the items used and was gifted two of them), and the cost if a parent were to purchase all the items new. My rules for myself were to only suggest plastic toys if there was no wooden or natural option, as I understand much of the appeal of the lovevery box for many parents is the wooden Montessori style toys
1. Spinning Rainbow
I could not find something EXACTLY like this. The closest I could find was the TAG Glitter Drum, but the only place I could find it would have cost the same as the whole Lovevery box. Similar toys are also available on Etsy, but again at a very high price tag. I did find the HAPE Pull along snail. The HAPE Snail had a drum for a shell that spins allowing the colours to move along as it is pulled, it can also be spun but the child as the shell moves independently to the base of the toy. However, it does not spin smoothly and my daughter was not interested (yet). I’m still trying some other spinning toys with her to see what she likes. The next toys I’m planning to try with her are the PlaySkool: Chase N Crawl Duckies (free from my parents’ house, this toy belonged to my brothers so I’ve just brought it out of storage) and the Sassy Whimsical Wheel.
Unfortunately, the PlaySkool toy appears to be discontinued, and neither option is plastic-free, and my goal is to provide plastic-free options. Personally, I will purchase plastic toys for my Little, however, I try to purchase plastic toys used and try to go for options that don’t require batteries.
The Sassy Whimsical Wheel is about $15 and is available at Walmart, Large Loblaw’s Locations like Zhers and Fortinos (in the baby section) and on Amazon.
2. Magic Tissue Box
I have little understanding as to why a special box might be needed for the functionality of this toy. I took an old, used up Kleenex box and put my magic tissues in that. Reusing the tissue box cost me nothing.
3. Magic Tissues
The magic tissues I decided to make myself taking six baby washcloths, using a stitch ripper to remove their tags and sticking four Velcro stickers to each one.
For me, the washcloths I used were extras at the bottom of our washcloth bin as Little was kindly gifted a plethora of wash clothes at her baby shower, and the Velcro was $1.25 from the Dollar Tree. I did not use all the Velcro in the pack.
If you did not have extra washcloths to use, a pack of baby washcloths is $9 on amazon for 10 washcloths, however, I have seen packs of washcloths for much cheaper at stores like Winners
4. Montessori Ball
For the Montessori Ball, I picked the Sassy Developmental Bumpy Ball which is $14 on amazon. I have not yet purchased this item as I have my eye out for it used. I will be doing my math as if I purchased the ball new though, as I will closer to when Little is 5 months old if I still have not found it.
Edit – I found this at Zhers but all of the balls there seemed very dirty like they got thrown on the floor in the warehouse. I like to avoid shopping on Amazon when I can, so I’m holding off on buying this until I can check a few more Zhers locations to see if I can find one that doesn't look dirty. For now Little is absolutely loving the texture balls I bought her for Christmas (https://amzn.to/2HYcTXE) so I don’t feel the need to buy this right away.
5. Parts of Me Book
This particular book is a Lovevery exclusive, so without getting the box, it will not be possible to get this exact book. However, the book “My First Body” from DK appears to be very similar. I borrowed my copy from the library, however, if you’re interested in owning the book it is available on Amazon and at chapters for $7
6. Play Socks
The play socks are another item that I made myself. I purchased some black and white baby socks from Giant Tiger ($3 for a 2 pack, but any baby socks will work fine), and I added some pom-poms with some of the leftover Velcro from the magic tissues. The pom-poms came from Dollarama and came in a pack with googly eyes and pipe cleaners for $3.50
Edit – The pomp oms fell off the socks with the Velcro so I will be attempting to sew the pompoms on the socks.
7. Tummy Time Wobbler
This is another one of those “tricky” items on my re-creation. If you’re looking for something that can be easy to find, I would suggest the Hape Tummy Time Wobbler Penguin. He is $20 from Mastermind or $29 on Amazon. While writing this article, I checked Facebook Marketplace and didn’t retrieve any listings with him in it, but Facebook Changes every day and you never know what you might find at value village or other second-hand stores.
For my personal re-creation, I “borrowed” the Fisher-Price Happy Apple Chime Ball (1973 – 1984) from my parents’ house. I got mine for free finding it at my parents’ house, but they are also available on eBay for a verity of prices. If you’re looking at vintage toys, Little also likes the Fisher-Price Rocking Horse Chime Ball (1966), however, that toy lives at my parents’ house for play there.
8. The final item in the box is a PLAY GUIED. I did not try to re-create this, as I do not know the contents of the book, however, with a quick google search, there are plenty of articles on how to play with a 5-6-month-old Little.
With what I recommended, the cost of the re-created box if one were to purchase everything new (but at the lowest possible price) is $62.75, which is significantly lower cost than the Lovevery Box. That being said, if you’re willing to shop used, have items that can be re-used, and borrow from the library your cost for the box could be closer to my cost which was $21.75.
And What Does Little think of all these toys? Little has not yet seen the Chase N Crawl Duckies as I won’t be picking them up from my parents’ house until Friday, but judging how much she likes to spin the blue square on the Vtech Singing Cow toy I’m guessing that she will like the duckies a lot. I have not yet pulled out the magic tissues for her as it doesn’t seem like something she would be interested in yet, as she cannot sit. She is just starting to like her texture balls this week, and I really think she will like the bumpy ball when I get around to buying it for her, I will likely put it in her Easter basket. The parts of me book was pretty unsuccessful, she wasn’t interested when I tried to read it to her, but she just might not be ready for it developmentally. She absolutely loved the play socks and had a blast playing with her feet when we put them on her. She likes the fisher price rocking horse chime ball at my parent’s house but seems indifferent to the apple chime ball we have here.
*I am not sponsored by any brands mentioned in this article
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Y'all spring is here! The sun is out! Flowers are blooming! I feel a sense of shame as I look at other people's instagrams of being in like parks or whatever while I sit at home writing/watching parts of I, Tonya on Hulu/telling myself that I need to be out of the house by 1 but actually leaving the house at 2:30! It also means that there are many vegetables out and around and insides of stores and also in those shame inducing instagrams. Between that and the friends from last week that were sick and could not come over and experience the delicious cauliflower but this week were not sick but were still vegetarian, I needed something from Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child that was springy. Unforch there are no regular salads in the book as far as I can tell but there is a dish that is pretty much hot salad! Ratatouille aka Eggplant Casserole - with Tomatoes, Onions, Peppers, and Zucchini! Ratatouille has no direct translation but is related to the french word for "to stir up". I personally would have preferred that as the english version of the recipe so I'm going to say I made Eggplant, Tomatoes, Onions, Peppers, and Zucchini All Stirred Up. No I have not seen the movie but I have been on the ride based on the movie at Walt Disney Studios Paris and it was great (no I did not ride the Rock 'N' Roller Coaster starring Aerosmith, yes that is a real thing)!
What you have to buy for hot salad is vegetables, because other that salt and olive oil and fire and cooking tools that is all this dish is. I went to the fancy grocery store because instead of having no choice in eggplants, as was the case at the grocery store down my block, I wanted to be paralyzed by my choices of eggplant and briefly I was! There were like 4 kinds of eggplant at the fancy grocery store and I stood there dumbfounded for at the selection like I was in the third act of an indie dramedy about sad upper middle class white people living in Los Angeles (for a second I thought a Duplass brother was going to walk up, tap me on the shoulder, and tell me to channel the feeling of my favorite succulent dying). I really wanted to get the very cool looking stripey eggplant but I totally chickened out because I'm a rule following nerd. I ended up getting a regular ass eggplant that weighed exactly 1 pound which is exactly what the book told me to do. I also got 1 pound of zucchini even though as I child I despised zucchini, really all squashes were super gross to me. I think it stemmed from a meal where I was served "spaghetti squash" and my mind shut off after I heard the word spaghetti, so I was sorely disappointed and blamed it on all squashkind. Along with the zukes (me and zucchini are cool now, so I can call it that) I got a head of garlic, a yellow onion, two green peppers, a pound of tomatoes, and just however much parsley they give you in a bunch (could I just peel off a few sprigs from that bunch? Am I just contemplating this now? See, I AM a rule following nerd) and THAT WAS IT! I stuffed it all in my backpack without plastic bags even though I'm sure the fancy grocery store has biodegradable ones and prayed that my belongings wouldn't be covered in crushed tomatoes on my train ride.
All these vegetables needed to be prepped to hell before the actual cooking took place, so prep them I did! I peel the eggplant and cut it into slices 3/8 inch thick, 3 inches long, and 1 inch wide, I did the same to the no longer gross to me zucchini. I mean, actually I did my best to keep these measurements but after a while I just got tired so they were all roughly the same size. I tossed my vegetable shapes into a bowl with a teaspoon of salt and let that sit for a half hour. While those salted themselves I went to work on the other parts of this hot salad. I peeled and juiced my tomatoes, still creepily enjoyable, also was it weird that this time I did it while Goodbye Horses played in the background (hey it's an excellent song!)? I also sliced the onions and and green pepper and then mashed a couple of garlic cloves and then all of my hot salad elements we almost ready to become hot. Before the hottening could begin though I had to drain and dry my eggplant and zukes and this was a huge pain in the ass! 1 pound of eggplant and 1 pound of zucchini makes for many 3/8 by 3 by 1 inch slices, all of these had to be dried by hand. One of the few things that I knew about food before I started this was wet eggplant before cooking made for slimy eggplant after cooking so I knew I had to be diligent in this very boring pain in the ass activity. After what seemed like the lifetime I was done drying all the pieces and it was finally time to make these cold veggie chunks considerably warmer.
Could I just throw all this stuff in a pot and let it cook? NO! Of course all these vegetable pieces had to be cooked on their own and then cooked again because Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child is all about letting you know that french people had and have a lot of time on their hands. Luckily, I could do all the cooking in just two cooking vessels rather than the parade of pots and pans necessary for a lot of these recipes (MY DISHPAN HANDS!). First I had to saute all my tiny and very very dry pieces of eggplant and zucchini, in 4 tablespoons of olive oil for just a minute on each side which was fun (just kidding, it was very tedious! Also it was impossible to cook each on both sides for just a minute unless I had some sort of stopwatch for each individual piece or cooked them one at a time, both of those choice would be insane!)! I set those aside so I could replace them with the sliced onion and green pepper which I sautéed for about 10 minutes, during which I probably read about Westworld theories (I think the one human guy might be a robot guy!), then I stirred in the two mashed cloves of garlic and some salt and pepper to my taste which is NONE OF YOUR DAMN BUSINESS. I sliced the pulped and juiced tomatoes into 3/8 inch strips then laid them on top of of the other stuff in the pan, I salted and peppered again and tried to find something to cover it all with. In a pinch I went with plate even though seconds later I realized we had a cover for that pan because I am very good at planning things. I sat in my regrets for 5 minutes then took the plate off of all that cooking vegetation. I then basted all that mess with the juices it had rendered which was fun and also a little gross now that I write it out. After I basted I turned up the heat and boiled that biz, which will be the name of my business seminar for small Irish restaurants and dermatological practices, until almost all that liquid was gone. THEN IT WAS FINALLY TIME TO PUT ALL THIS STUFF IN A DANG POT.
Like I was creating one of those coke bottles creatures filled with sand at the state fair (You know the ones you'd put googly eyes on and like a golf tee for a nose and maybe a treasure troll like shock of hair at the top? Is this a reference that you understand? One of the deep subgoals of this project is testing the unanimity of state fair experience) I had to layer all these cooked vegetables in the pot. First went one third of the tomato/onion/garlic/pepper mixture, then 1 tablespoon of minced parsley, then half of the eggplant and zucchinis, then another third of the tomato mix, then another tablespoon of parsley, then the rest of the eggplant and zucchinis, then the rest of the tomato mix and then finally one more tablespoon of parsley. I covered my stratified vegetal mix and simmered for 10 minutes, then I took the top off (of the pot you pervs), leaned the pot on its side and basted that mess with its rendered juices (no way to stop you pervs from going wild with that one). I turned up the heat and cooked everything for another 15 minutes, basting every now and then as the mood struck me (and it struck me OFTEN (actually Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child instructed me to baste several times so I did it, it was not in any way whimsical)), till pretty much all the juices were cooked off besides a couple of spoonfuls. Then, at last, my ratatouille was done.
AND MY RATATOUILLE WAS GOOD! I felt bad though at the end because I realized that this whole thing didn't have any butter so it was probably the only vegan dish in this whole book and I didn't even invite over the one vegan who we're good enough of friends with to invite into our apartment! Sorry unnamed vegan friend! You missed out (well not really since you had no idea it was happening) on some delicious hot salad! Anyway, this was very tasty and not slimy and goopy like I thought it might be. It was, however, a lot of work! Maybe too much for hot salad! If you are a vegan though and need to make something French for your Bastille Day party (it's coming up!) this would be great for you to make! I will probably not be making this any time soon though! So I would say to you, non-vegans, this one doesn't quite have to ROI that you might be looking for in cooking! But do make RATATOUILLE aka EGGPLANT CASSEROLE- WITH TOMATOES, ONIONS, PEPPERS, AND ZUCCHINI aka EGGPLANT WITH TOMATOES ONIONS, PEPPERS AND ZUCCHINI ALL MIXED UP aka HOT SALAD for your vegan pals! They will probably like it! SEE YOU NEXT WEEK!
#tdandjulia #ratatouille #EggplantCasserolewithTomatoesOnionsPeppersZucchini #allstirredup #hotsalad #disneylandparis #aerosmithrollercoaster #mesmerizedbyeggplants #ifcaliforniaissogreatwhyareallthepeoplesetinmoviestheresosad #manysteps #terriblemeasurements #westworldrumors #puyallupfair #sorryveganfriend
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Family Is Everything
Section 2
Edward Peverell; 6:13 am; January 4th, 2017; Lincoln City Station
Questioning goes on till the morning sun is high overhead and birds start their day at work.
“Edward”
Snapping back to the officer (I learned their name as officer Whitman around 3 am or so) reflex to my own name.
“ Edward, your mother is here to pick you up”, it feels odd. They called my mother. I've been an adult for a few years now as a twenty-three-year-old. Following down a busy hallway full of bustling police and witnesses like me before stopping at the entrance to the main office. Straight in front of a modern-looking glass doors but lined with old wood paneling you would expect from old distant great-uncle, my mother was waiting.
My mother with a thick golden halo of curls frames the soft heart shaped face, passed down to me, and rosy cheeks slathered with light freckles. Cupids bow lips, also given to me, surround a soft-spoken voice and a sparkle of life in her lungs. Hands were perfectly manicured (the only thing I've ever seen her do so religiously) in constant pink and white french tips and a marred, golden wedding band. I'm not sure where she had acquired the band and why. I always wondered as mother had never married. Past her was the dark blue, inconspicuous Audi.
“Oh Edward”, she choked out. Mother proceeding to smother me an embrace of family love.
“Hello mother”, my voice muffled by her hair.
“Come Eddie”
I hate when she calls me that. James used to call me that when we were young. James my brother, that is. Ducking my head and further hunching down my shoulders, I lift up my left leg and after, my other. The worn, tan leather seats strained and creaked as I lowered myself upon them.
“They said you were not a suspect”, her tone so matter-of-fact, so unlike her. Was there was something wrong? Did she suspect me involved? She's wearing a weird look and using a delicate tone. Like I am getting picked up from the office, from the nurse in school again, crying my eyes out. As is I would crack with the slightest harshness. As if I was a porcelain doll.
Turning my head Carrie Caldwell is being taken out of a police car, cuffed at the wrist and head hug. I always disliked Mr. Caldwell his watery, clear squinted eyes and sweaty, putty figure has always put me off. (Reminded me of Peter Pettigrew from Harry Potter. Not the kind of person you should trust) His odd twitching only contributed to the downtrodden but, seemingly distrustful impression. A familiar band around his pudgy, short fingers caught my eye. It was identical to the one mother has! How did he possibly have an exact match of my mother's mysterious wedding band? Could just be a coincidence, my have just been mass-produced.
Turning,“Mother Mr.Caldwell has the same ring as you?” she took a sharp breath, shoulders tight and gave a horse smile. In a second it passed and she was once again soft and gentle, rounded and curved with a small almost sad smile.
“How interesting, I wonder why?”
No, you don't. Blue and green trees and cars obstructing my view of the Columbia but, we were by the 7th Fred Meyer already so we could only be 10 minutes away from our house. Sure enough the clock strikes and we are pulling up this short, steep gravel driveway into a small cottage community. The sign of the Blind Onion Pizza restaurant (we went to lunch with James third grade teacher there once) and the honey yellow, cute Sunnyville Market sign visible over our landlords pale, blue rectangle Cottage surrounded by young granny smith apple trees barely bloomed. Like little clouds together protecting and watching, falling gently in the breeze. To the right of our own the Bumblebee yellow cottage was a metal, rusted trailer hooked up to nothing. Our own little home was surrounded by gold and ruby tulips, to the right is our community yard. It could be seen ways away. Millions of tiny stalks of corn and wheat sprouted up. Years ago when were all small Tom, James, and I were to running though, unable to see over the heads. As I turn back, mother is now turning the rusted brass knob on the dark purple door. The grass green walls bring simple, silent sadness rather than the sharp hurt I expected. You see in the past Tom was our neighbor as well as Mr. Caldwell and his son, Hadrian. We had all painted our interior walls the same shades of moss green. Mr. Caldwell had never appreciated this or any other shenanigans we have come up with. My own mother Andy had at first as well but, she liked the fact that Mr. Caldwell did not. Settling down on the lumpy, multi color thread love seat my maternal grandfather was dearly loved I am called.
“Hey Eddie”, his tone teasing. Standing in the doorway was my brother Captain. Well… James Morgan Bay but, we called him Captain. From when we were children, we had made up a game about pirates revolving around a scary story my cousin told me. (I, of course reiterated said tale to Cap, Tom, and Harry) Looking at a much bigger but still bubbly James, I'm greeted by the 6-foot 200-pound brick wall that was my little 17 year old brother. Or, well, half-brother. As it's quite obvious. His pin straight, chocolate brown bed head to my wheat coloured, curled catastrophe and his heavy lidded sunken, honey eyes are widely regarded quite lovely while my own pale, moss green eyes don't quite compare. His lips, narrow and cracked, allow for his squared jaw to standout. While mine only soften the heart shaped, dimpled structure, with a prominent Cupid's bow and full but cracked lips, completely washing out the freckled, scarred, angular cheeks my mother had once thought quite cute. My mother still thinks James doughy, clear, pink cheeks the epitome of perfection. The only similarity between us is our height, coloration, and hands. Both of us are 6 foot, but I am much more willowed and gangly than James has ever been. Taking after our fathers rather than our mother we both are more copper than our mothers rosy porcelain but, we do have our mothers elegant, calloused hands. Though mine are ink stained from years of pursuing a career in art, only to join the Air Force. Scarred as well. My brother has one thin miniature knife scar from peeling carrots and being distracted by his our bubbly, booming, animated voice, while mine are blanketed in years of layered clumsiness, fights, accidents, not caring, and a supposedly “bad” habit of trying to raise wild animals. They were hurt though! So that justifies all. Of course James wouldn't agree. Which is probably why his only pet is a rock with googly eyes. He named it “Rocky”. He was 16.
“Have you heard?” Clear and mournful.
“Heard what?” With eyebrows narrowed in confusion, I ask.
Caps lips thinned and eyes hard, making them appear sharp and black.
“Caldwell has been arrested for tom's murder. Rightful so” his fists were balled, tears welled up a self righteous streak of light settled in his eyes, as though he was born for the look. His breathing hitched, making me suddenly realize he was going to cry. Oh god. Of course he's going to cry, toms his best friend. Pushing from my comfort, I brave across the room stiffly, cautiously wrapping my arms around him pulling Jamie close. Despite what Cap said Mr. Caldwell murdering Tom didn't add up. It didn't set right. He had never given sign of hate or even dislike. Any indication of a motive was not present. There was no money or hatred, he even had encouraged his son, Hadrian, and Thomas to date. Why would he do such a horrendous act? How did the police find out?
Gasping, “The footprints!”
“What?”
Oops. Said that out loud. Grimacing, I divert my eyes to Richard, a hanging ivy plant in the hallway.
Wiping away tears, “What do you mean footprints?” James asks.
“When I was there I -”
“You were there!?” He screeched.
Glaring, “Yes, now don’t scream in my ear” rubbing it. Taking a deep breath. Sighing.
“Yes. While I was out I was just passing by -”
“Sure you were”, with a fond smile and sad eyes.
Blushing, just a tad, I continue, “While I was by the Osborn Laboratories”, I start.
Immediately James gives a disappointing, almost hurtful sigh and shake of his head. His hair softly bouncing.
Sharply intaking, “I heard a yell” I continue, “it had been Tom”. Breathing quickly but sporadically hitching, with welled, blurred vision. “I found him, he - there was so much blood”, my voice squeaking, I recalled every detail I had found.“God, there wasn't a mark on him”. Everything is clouded. “I saw footprint in all of it, covering the entire flooring. It went to the door, to the hall but”, eyes on the stained, carpeted floor, “they just stopped”, my brows furrowing. That looked odd, like -
“What?” Confusion evident in Cap’s voice.
“Where did this stain come from?”
“I don't know but. It kinda looks like -”
“Blood” I finish, deep and final.
“C'mon”
Following James, I purposefully stepping over the stain. Entering through the doorway, indented with pencil markings of out heights. From three to when I left home a few years ago.
With a half smile,
“Just as messy as usual” I say with a soft huff of a chuckle.
The yellow light of early morning slates through his broken and bent plastic Crete coloured blinds onto the worn, wooden wicket bed. Covered by hand knitted brown and maroon Blanket throws and ruffled, fluffed feather pillows. Directly to the left, pushed against his golden walls that were covered with posters of planets, blueberries, and a particularly large periodic table was a light brown Douglas Fir writing desk. The one he had left. On the desk, Cap was grabbing his test kit from the same science club he met Tom at.
“So you do this and I'll go and find Mr. Caldwell's shoes?”
“Alright, as long as you bring them back”, He responded immediately.
“ Of course”, I comply softly.
Turning back I rushed out the door, straight to the window of Mr. Caldwell's bedroom. Reaching my fingertips I start slowly placing force onto the sides of the screen. Pop! The screen goes loudly falling off, clashing to the dark hardwood floor. A bout of anxiety hits me as I begin to start up. Embarrassedly, straining I pull myself up and over the molded, antique white window seal. Crouching at my knees and rolling into my heels, allowing me to fall softly. Looking around I immediately find a quite dirty version of the same shoes my mother owns. Chuckling I realize they wear the same size. Pulling them up between my forefingers, i am hit by a small bout of remembrance. Running past his unmade bed and scattered dirted dishes I (attempt to) leap through the window. Stumbling, I regain my balance and run over the gravel path to our own cottage. Taking in the shoes, they were clean. Well, obviously they haven't been in a while but there's no blood. Running past the kitchen to the short hall I burst into our room.
“Why Edward?” was quietly asked as soon as I entered. The door still swinging.
“What is it?” I ask in confusion.
Hunched over the desk, shoulders tense at work (or was he crying?) as words of his own discoveries slip out.
“It’s Tom's blood!” Sweeping his arms across the face causing them to crash into the carpets, swiveling around .
“Edward. What did you do?”
“What you think you think I did this? To Tom!” and just as quickly he strongly states his response.
“I do not know what to believe the only other person who could have possibly... the only person who could have possibly was mom”, he trailed off. His voice losing its edge. (Edgy™)
“Why don't I just go and ask her”, humoring him.
“No!” Only a sliver of panic gleemed.
But I was already out the door.
“Mom!” I call searching the house.
“Sweetie?”She says, appearing behind me.
“I was wondering if you knew anything about what happened to Tom?”
Expecting a cheerful hugs and asking about my feelings instead I got, well not that.
“Honey you shouldn't have asked that”, a cold, metal barrel pressed against my cheek.
“Now darling you can't tell anyone, okay?”
“Promise you won't tell anyone”.
I can't help but stutter, “Al- all r-r-right-t”, what was I to do? Bang!
“Put your hands up!” it was the same blue clad officer who took me as a witness before. “Lower your weapon!”
Later that night I talked to James again...
He called as soon as I left.
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