#waterworks tile

[redheadredliiips]

Bathroom in San Francisco Inspiration for a small farmhouse kids' blue tile and ceramic tile porcelain tile, gray floor and single-sink bathroom remodel with shaker cabinets, gray cabinets, a one-piece toilet, white walls, an undermount sink, solid surface countertops, white countertops, a niche and a built-in vanity

[magnusficent]

Dining Room in San Diego Enclosed dining room - large industrial limestone floor enclosed dining room idea with white walls and no fireplace

[princessreasonmusic]

Transitional Bathroom - Kids Example of a mid-sized transitional kids' bathroom with white floor and double sinks, white walls, a one-piece toilet, blue cabinets, an undermount sink, quartz countertops, a hinged shower door, white countertops, a niche, and a built-in vanity.

[weneedtogirlthehellup]

New York Midcentury Bedroom

Mid-sized 1950s master medium tone wood floor and brown floor bedroom photo with white walls

[bulletjournaling101]

Kids in New York

Bathroom - small traditional kids' white tile and ceramic tile marble floor, multicolored floor and single-sink bathroom idea with beaded inset cabinets, white cabinets, a one-piece toilet, blue walls, an undermount sink, quartz countertops, white countertops and a built-in vanity

[carleighrose]

Master Bath in DC Metro Master bathroom with a double sink, beaded inset cabinets, white cabinets, a two-piece toilet, blue walls, marble countertops, and a freestanding vanity in a medium-sized, elegant home.

[theclassyhuman]

New York Kitchen Enclosed Large transitional u-shaped enclosed kitchen design with a medium tone wood floor and beaded inset cabinets, white cabinets, marble countertops, paneled appliances, and an island.

[elevate-rp]

Austin Master Bath Bathroom Bathroom - small transitional master bathroom idea with gray tile, stone tile, a mosaic tile floor, a flat-panel sink, white cabinets, quartz countertops, and white walls.

[klllerwithin]

Beach Style Kitchen - Kitchen Eat-in kitchen idea with a large, coastal dark-wood floor and stainless steel appliances, an island, open cabinets, and a farmhouse sink

[kosagum]

how to fix a toilet — gojo satoru · fluff · 1k words

summary: while moving in with gojo, you fall in love with him again, again, again.

you’re watching GOJO fix a toilet and you think you’ve never been so in love in your life.

of course, you have loved him. but you haven’t gotten to love him like this, standing over the open tank of a toilet with a hand running through his white hair and a pout on his lips as he, with no knowledge about plumbing or waterworks or even toilet repair, tries to fix one.

you should be unpacking in another room, but instead, you lean against the doorway to the bathroom and just…watch him. that is, until he speaks up.

“baby, can’t we call a plumber?” gojo whines, peering into the toilet tank with one hand sifting through the toolbox at his feet. you stifle a giggle behind his back when he picks up a wrench, eyeing it with a frown.

“nope.” you certainly could, but you want to keep him like this longer. “you said you’d fix the toilet if it broke, and it broke. that’s the only reason i agreed to move in with you.”

“the only reason?” gojo looks over his shoulder at you and gapes. “not because i’m your boyfriend?”

that makes you smile, but that’s not it, either.

you’d been all but living together before this; you’d find his socks in your dryer and your favorite snacks in his pantry, he had a spare toothbrush in the cup by your sink and you had one in his, and you both wore the clothes—his jackets, your coats and sweaters—hanging side by side in your closet.

gojo begged you to move in with him every day. and finally, when you realized you didn’t want to live in a home without his socks, his toothbrush, or his jackets, without him, you said yes.

really, there’s no one else you’d rather move in with.

you pretend to think, listing with your fingers as gojo’s gape gives in to a grin. “you’re also annoying, stubborn…”

“still your boyfriend,” he says, pointing the wrench at you with pride. annoying. despite yourself, your smile widens and doesn’t fade when he turns back to the toilet.

malfunction aside, the toilet is shiny and new, as is the bathroom and the rest of this house. the empty rooms are full of sunlight and wet paint and half-unpacked cardboard boxes holding your and gojo’s things. any surface not covered by a box is by housewarming gifts: cookbooks from geto, puzzle sets from ieiri, and a too-big bouquet from all of gojo’s students that you both ended up having to split between vases, leftover bottles, and whatever else could be used as a container.

but the bathroom is not so empty. a shower curtain from gojo’s old condo hangs over the bathtub, towels from your old apartment pile in a corner, and a cup for your toothbrush and his is on the counter by the sink. not a spare toothbrush—his toothbrush, right beside yours.

your eyes fall back on him, still here in the bathroom with you, trying to fix the toilet. and you think this must be love, too. sharing a space, the toilet and the toothbrush holder and everything else in it, and falling just a little more from that alone.

feeling your eyes on him, gojo glances back at you and, to your dismay, catches you staring. “sure you don’t have any other reasons?” he grins again, and you roll your eyes as he tilts his head at you with a laugh.

oh, you have plenty.

you won’t tell gojo all of them now while he’s in the middle of fixing the toilet. but from the eager look on his face, you think he already knows.

“well,” you start, toeing at the tiles beneath you. they alternate between cream and baby blue, your color of choice for the bathroom tiling and his. “i do love you. like this.”

gojo’s grin widens.

he definitely knows.

he sets the wrench down on the bathroom counter and sidles toward you, an eyebrow raised in equal parts amusement and affection. “you love me fixing our toilet?”

you snort as he gets closer, face now only inches away from yours. “i loved you fixing our toilet. which you still haven’t finished fixing, by the way.”

“tell me more about you loving me first.”

you finally laugh, and he tries—and fails—to bite back a grin at it. “seriously,” he says, nudging your foot with his. “tell me.”

you look up at gojo, and in every single one of the thoughts that come to mind is him.

his shoes are kicked off by yours in the foyer. your reading glasses and his sunglasses lie side by side on the counter. two sets of keys are thrown into the tray, matching mugs are stored in the kitchen cupboards, and your clothes are folded next to his in drawers and closets in the bedroom. on walls and tables all over the house sit pictures of you both in frames.

and here in the bathroom is gojo himself, trying to fix the toilet and making you laugh while doing it.

“i love you here,” you finally say, gesturing with an arm at it all.

and gojo grins even wider at you, wide enough for his cheeks to dip into his dimples, and then you’re sure of it: you’ve never been so in love in your life.

he scoops you up, and you laugh again and throw your arms around him as he laughs with you, spinning you around once, twice, before setting you down on the seat of the toilet. your shared toilet.

“i love you here, too,” he says, grinning as he kisses your nose. “and here—” your forehead, “and here—” your cheek, “and here—”

and as you laugh and try to push him away, only for him to cup your face with his hands and kiss you on the mouth, you fall again, again, again.

[luminousbeings-crudematter]

(Sorry if this sounds demanding, swear it's not my intention) could you write a domestic scene within the situationshipverse pls? A date or something like that. I love it <3

You don't sound demanding at all, and THANK YOU, anon, for this request, I actually loved writing for these two fools again! I briefly talked about a disastrous Valentines' date with Simon (that takes place soon after the end of the main series) and wanted to talk about it more.

I'm feeling a bit meh about my writing rn, but I hope you like it anyway <3

You're late.  Again.

Your phone is dead, you’re tired beyond belief, you’ve got blisters in your feet and it’s pouring rain tyrannically, rendering you completely drenched, boots squelching with every step you take towards his flat.

You’re so irritated, so full of anger at the shitty circumstances and while you’re not usually a violent person, you kick at the sign that says that the lift is out for repair.  But the sound it makes when it knocks over sets off the waterworks, and by the time you’re pitifully knocking at Simon’s door, your face is as drenched as your coat.      

He ushers you in without a word, but it just makes you cry harder.  It’s not only that you were late for your date with Simon…it’s that you’re four hours late, Simon is on leave for only two weeks and that it’s Valentine’s Day and you’d wanted to spend a cheesy evening with your stoic boyfriend who’d stumbled his way into feeling out and planning something that he’d thought you’d enjoy.

And you were four hours late.  Because cheesy fools all around the city had wanted the same thing you’d wanted—time alone with the one you loved with the world shut out around you.

Your wet clothes stick to your skin and your irritation makes even removing them a chore, but Simon patiently leads you to the bath and helps you strip off your clothes that fall down to the tiles with a wet plop.  While the bathtub fills and the steam envelopes the room, Simon looks down at you with melted eyes the colour of dark caramel and wipes your tears with gentle fingers.  “Why are you so upset, love?” he whispers.  “It’s alright, you’re alright.”

You bury your face into his chest and his arms automatically go around you and grab your bare ass.  It makes you giggle through your tears, and you half-heartedly smack his chest.  “You can’t do that, I’m crying!”      

“Not mutually exclusive,” he insists, and it makes you cry-laugh again.  

You push away from him slightly, put your hands on his chest, rest your chin on them and look up at him.  “I’m sorry I ruined Valentine’s Day.” 

“Sweet girl,” he starts quietly.  “You’re standin’ naked in m’flat, lookin fuckin’ fantastic—” your ass is squeezed again for emphasis—“and yer’ going to relax and we’ll get some food and then you’ll sit on m’face until the mornin’.  Day’s hardly ruined, love.”

“Jesus, Simon,” you mumble, pushing away from him and rubbing at your swollen eyes.

“S’true.  You could never ruin anythin’, love.”

“You’re a sap,” you chide him.  “I know you made some plans for us to do something.  I should’ve just asked for the day off and—”

“Shut up.  Take your clothes off and get in the bath,” he interrupts, and despite yourself, you roll your eyes at him but follow his instructions.  When you’re comfortably seated, you feel his fingers gently drip water into your hair, on the back of your neck and on your shoulders, and the familiar, repetitive  motions soothe the disquiet in your mind. 

When his fingers use rhythmic motions to massage shampoo into your hair, you feel your stress further melt away, and sink deeper into the warm water.  “You wanna talk about it?” he enquires quietly.

“Fuck no,” you sigh, closing your eyes and leaning your head further back into his touch.  “I don’t even want to think about it.”

“Good,” he whispers.  “Don’t think about it, then.  Just relax, sweet girl.  You’ve got me.”

Your eyes blink open at his words, and you’re reminded of why you’d been so upset previously.  The real reason you’d been so upset.  “I, er…earlier?  I was upset because—I feel like you planned something for us and I let you down and you’re going away next week and we don’t even know when I’ll see you next, and fuck, Simon, I love you, I love you so much, but this is so hard—”

“Fuckin’ hell,” he breathes.  “You’ve been thinkin’ about that, pet?”  His sigh is deep and troubled, and he leans down to press a kiss onto your forehead.  “I love you…” he murmurs, “...but you’re a fuckin’ idiot, love.”

“I know,” you wail.  “I know it’s ridiculous, but it just feels like I’m wasting your time—”

“Alright, enough of that.”  He stands abruptly, and bends down to you.  Before you know it, he’s lifted you up effortlessly, and your legs dangle over his arms while he marches you into his room.  When he throws you onto his bed, you bounce a little and it makes you gasp.

“Simon, you fool, I’m dripping wet.”

“I know you are,” he says.

“I’m going to mess your bed up and we’re going to have to sleep on a wet bed.”

His expression is intense as he says, “Doesn’t matter.”

You rise up partially on your elbows and narrow your eyes at him.  “You’d hate it,” you tell him.  

He doesn’t bat an eye.  “Don’t care.  What I do care about is that you never say anythin’ like tha’ again, okay?”

You laugh nervously and fiddle with the covers, too embarrassed to even look at him.  “I know.  I wasn’t really worried about that, I just say stupid shit sometimes.”

“Okay,” he says, crawling over you now, and hovering over you, forearms on either side of you, effectively caging you in, keeping you safe, making it so it’s just him and you, exactly like what you’d wanted.  “Love you.”

“I love you too, Simon.  You’re it for me,” you whisper, and lean forward until your forehead touches him and you’re holding on to his wrists with your hands.

“You’re it for me too, sweet girl.  And…” his eyes quickly flicker down to your bare body.  “...nice tits.”  You can tell he’s still a little bothered though, and you lean further up to speak against his lips.

“I promise you, I don’t actually think I’m wasting your time, I just want to make the most of the time we’ve got together, and sometimes I struggle when you’re gone and it’s a bit lonely at my place, but I know you’re coming back to me and—”

“Move in with me.”

“...what the fuck?”  You stare at him with comically large eyes that threaten to bulge out of your eye-sockets.  “What the fuck is wrong with you, how are you asking—”

“Move in with me, dove.”

“Fuck, yes!  Of course, yes!” you say, grinning.  “Obviously yes!”

He doesn’t say anything, but a rare, perfect smile makes an appearance, and in that moment, everything’s perfect and life is perfect and you’re just two love-struck fools staring at each other with goofy smiles on your face.  “Should we have sex now?” you wonder aloud.  “Celebrate, somehow?”

“Got the bed messy anyway, love.”

You look around you at the rumpled, wet sheets and nod.  “Yeah, sorry about that.  I’m honestly impressed you let it happen, considering how military you are about it like oh make the bed so tight and neat you can’t get in or out of it otherwise it’ll start the next world war—” you mock him doing a horrible job of imitating his accent but your voice just gets deeper and deeper until it cracks, making you laugh, then snort and then laugh again.

Through it all, Simon has the most unimpressed expression on his face, pretending to be pissed off, of course, but the melted honey of his eyes gives him away, and he ends up smiling at you anyway.

He leans down to kiss you, and you try (and fail) pull his jumper off of him.  He pulls it off himself, and strips the rest of his clothes off, only separating from your lips when he absolutely has to.  When he briefly shifts, a strand of soft gold falls into his eyes, and you reach up to push it aside.   

“Why are you smiling?” you ask him.

“Why are you smiling?” he shoots back.

“We’re about to have sex, why the fuck wouldn’t I be smiling?”

He shakes his head and laughs at you, and you’re suddenly euphoric at the feeling that he incites in you, knowing that you do this for him and he’ll do it for you, and you’ll be stuck in a loop of making each other undeniably, uncontrollably happy for the rest of your lives.   

He makes the night infinitely better when his moan against your mouth ends up sounding like he’s in agreement with your thoughts.

[whumpsoda]

Lucky

Masterlist

cw: pet whump, box boy universe/bbu adjacent, Institutionalized slavery, conditioning/training, shock collar, abuse

——————

Boots, black and steel-toed, tapped over the sterile, freezing tile floor, back and forth at a leisurely pace. The taunting baton hung down from his clutch beside them. “You’re ‘real lucky I’m in a good mood today.” Handler Levi Brooks scoffed, watching the trainee pant with those round, pleading eyes, one bruised over a nauseating purple. 

He was keeled over, trembling and shaking worse with each passing second. Levi had always liked the ones too terrified to think.

“P- please, please, let me-,” the trainee started, voice cracked and split as spit dripped from his bloodied lips, his fingers balled and curled over the tile.

He squealed, stupid and pathetic, not a sound at all fit for a guard dog as Levi whacked him again, harder this time. He rolled over onto his back, writhing and whining dumbly. 

“Shut. Up.” Levi watched as the waterworks began once again, gritting his teeth. “No speaking unless spoken to, ‘520, remember?”

“That’s not, that’s not my name, please-,”

“Hey.” Crouching to the pet’s level, thumb wavering closely over the controller of his electrified collar, Levi stopped him from taking another breath. “What did I just say? Do you want to try that again?”

“‘M sorry, I- I’m sorry-,” 

He screamed, raw and grating as, with no hesitation, Levi clicked down on the button. His eyes went wide as he clawed at the coarse collar strapped tight and secure around his throat, only earning him another shock.

“Really, ‘520? I even granted you a second chance. Not too smart, are ya?” Levi paused, looking to him with expectancy. “Well?”

The trainee heaved croaking breaths, quick and shallow with a wet face as he stared back, hesitating before finally taking the hint. “I don’t-,”

“God, how haven’t you gotten these simple rules through your thick skull yet, ‘520? Is it really that hard?” Exploding with rich, wretched sobs, the trainee cried in pain with yet another shock, pounding around as he strangled a shriek. “Good thing we’ve got you scheduled for the drip pretty soon. Excited, aren’t ya? I know I am.”

“D- d- drip-?” He choked, making the best attempt he could to meet his handler’s eyes.

Levi grinned. “Yup.”

He studied the thing for a moment, his greasy hair, soft features, and pudgy frame, paired along with his gasping whimpers, heaving breaths, and tear pricked lashes. Levi was all ready to see him hardened, broken down to a blank slate of loyalty and obedience. “Y’know, I think we’ll be having some fun together, ‘520.”

——————

Taglist - @softvampirewhump @ivymyers @taterswhump @octopus-reactivated @tippytappytyping

@distracted-obsessions @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @starfields08000

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

[sinkingteethinwhitenoise]

Limoncello - Chapter 4

Pairings: Nick Folio x fem!OC, Bad Omens x fem!OC

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Fluff, slight angst, mention of abuse, crying for a second, cursing

Series Masterlist

“There is peace even in the storm.” ~ Vincent van Gogh

Blinding rays of late morning sunlight reached through the curtain-less windows and caressed Maeve’s eyelids. As her eyes fluttered open she squinted at the harsh light and brought her arm up to cover her eyes. As she looked to the side she realized her vision was blurry. Her glasses weren’t on. She hadn’t remembered falling asleep, so she was happy to know that she, or someone, had enough sense to take her glasses off. As she sat up, she squinted her eyes and looked around, straining her eyes in an attempt to locate them. Once she found the blurry outline of them on the side table next to the arm of the couch she had been resting her head on, she grabbed them and slipped them onto her face. Her vision now clear, she looked around, realizing that Nick was curled up, asleep, on the opposite side of the couch. 

She shifted into a sitting position before pushing herself off of the couch. She took the blanket that had been covering both of their legs and carefully moved it up to fully cover Nick’s body, trying not to wake him up. When he didn’t stir, she deemed the action successful and tiptoed into the kitchen. Glancing at the clock on the oven, she noticed that the time was 11:30. Her eyebrows shot up. She almost never slept in that late. She let out a deep sigh before leaning up against the counter, looking down at the cold tile floor as she tried to finally process the situation that led her there. 

She had awoken to violent pounding on her front door and the doorbell chiming over and over again. She knew it was probably Tanner. Him showing up in the dead of night, drunk and angry, had begun to increase in frequency. It was exactly the reason she had broken up with him 6 months ago. He would get drunk, convince himself that she was cheating, and rush to her home to pick a fight. Now that they were no longer, he would come yell at her because he couldn’t handle the fact that she had left. She had cautiously approached the door and slowly cracked it open. 

“Tanner,” she sighed. “Go home.” She tried to shut the door in his face but his hand caught it and pushed it open, easily overpowering her.  

“We need to talk,” he muttered, voice eerily calm. He then tried to walk into her house. Maeve was not about to let him inside, not when she knew how violent he could get. If something happened to her, she wanted witnesses, even if that was in the form of home security cameras that adorned most of her neighbors homes. “Outside,” she mumbled. “We can talk outside.” 

To her surprise, he stepped back so that she could come outside. The minute she was outside, he was in her face. “I know you left me because you were fucking someone else. How fucking dare you? I gave you everything.” 

“No I wasn’t,” she said firmly. “I left because of this right here.” 

“Let me fucking talk,” he growled, fists balling up at his sides. She knew it was best to let him get his way, he would be less intense if she just stayed quiet. So she let him talk. He mainly just repeated himself, but it was still terrifying. That had been the worst he’d gotten in a while. She swore he was going to hit her as the tears streamed down her face. Luckily, Nick had come outside before he had the chance to. 

She didn’t realize she was crying as she recalled the event until a tear hit her chest. She reached up to wipe the tears away and get them under control before someone woke up. She easily cut off the waterworks within seconds. She heard light footsteps moments later and looked up to see Nick with the blanket draped over his shoulders. “Good morning,” he mumbled as he shuffled over to her. He leaned against the counter right next to her.

“Good morning,” she whispered, a ghost of a smile manifesting on her face. She loved his morning voice. She considered herself blessed having heard it a second time. “How come you didn’t sleep in your bed?” 

Nick shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to make sure you were safe.” He said it sheepishly, like it was frightening for him to admit. 

Maeve felt heat jump to her face as she bit her lip to curb her growing smile. “Well aren’t you a gentleman,” she teased. She looked at him before continuing. “I’m okay. I promise,” she said gently. “But thank you. I really appreciate it.” 

Nick just stared at her for a moment, barely processing what she said as she looked up at him. His heartbeat sped up and he nearly forgot to breathe. Maeve tilted her head slightly when he didn’t reply. She felt the flush of her face spread to her ears and chest. “Earth to Folio,” she teased, internally cringing at the way her voice nervously shook. 

He snapped out of his little trance. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. Then, with a sudden boost of confidence, “I just didn’t realize someone could be so pretty first thing in the morning.” 

Maeve couldn’t help the giggle that slipped and she covered her mouth with her hand. “Stop it,” her words were slightly muffled as she lightly nudged the side of his body. In a flair of dramatics, he pretended to wobble around before throwing himself on the floor. Maeve started to laugh at him as she looked down at him. 

“You pushed me!” he teased, “That wasn’t very nice!”

“Oh, please forgive me,” she laughed, playing along. 

“Only if you help me up.” He held out his hand. She rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand, but before she could even attempt to pull him up, he pulled her down. She fell right onto his chest in a fit of laughter, which he returned as he wrapped his arms around her in a big bear hug. 

“You tricked me!” she squealed. “Let me go!” Her words were riddled with genuine, amused laughter. The sound was so beautiful that Nick wanted to keep her laughing for as long as he could. They were so caught up with each other that they didn’t hear the soft footsteps approaching the kitchen. 

“Get a room,” Jolly mumbled, walking past them to get a bottle of water from the refrigerator and retreating back to his room. 

Maeve and Nick quieted down until he was out of view. When they looked at each other again, they both bursted into another fit of laughter. When they did finally calm down they just stared at each other for a little while, still lying on the kitchen floor. Maeve spoke up after a while, “Do you wanna come over for some coffee?”

Nick smiled brightly, “Yeah. I’d love to.”

[burntblanc]

Writemas Day Two: Bittersweet

**Thank you for @agirlandherquill for creating this wonderful idea!**

The sweet, intoxicating scent of pastries filled the Bliss Bakery in downtown Foxhill. Being inside the modest shop was like being wrapped in a tight hug, both warm and comforting. And for Elaine Loftly, it was more than that.

She tapped her toes against the cream tile floor, humming softly as number five in line to place her order. While her nose filled with notes of vanilla and caramel, her eyes drifted around, hopping between photos and portraits hung on the peach-colored walls. Some were of places, others of people. But one in particular caught her eye, as it always does: a portrait of her father, Earnest. He was a frequent flyer at the bakery and earned the coveted spot on Bliss’ walls as one of their favorite customers.

The corners of her lips turned up ever so slightly, and her mind wandered.

“Daddy, daddy!” A young girl’s bright voice interrupted Elaine’s train of thought — quite thankfully. “Can I get a cupcake and an éclair this time?” She pointed with one hand towards the display of sweet treats at the register, the other hand tugging on her father’s coat.

Chuckling, he patted the top of her head, gently shuffling around her hair. “Claire, what do you say when you’re asking someone something?”

The girl paused. “Uhhhh… Oh! Pretty please?”

“There you go.” The smile that emerged on his lightly wrinkled face warmed Elaine’s heart in a familiar way, especially when he picked Claire up and held her against his side. “I love you, sweetie pie.”

“I love you too, daddy.” She kissed his beard and held him tight, her head resting on his shoulder.

Elaine fought back the waterworks that threatened to spill from her eyes. “Sweetie pie” was her dad’s nickname for her. It had only been a year since her father passed, and the memories tugged at her heartstrings.

Although she was now next in line at the front, Elaine stepped away and out of the bakery, wiping tears away.

“I miss you, dad.” She looked up at the sky, hoping that he was up there somewhere, listening.

The words “I miss you too, sweetie pie,” echoed in her head.

[dknuth]

Kairouan

In Kairouan, our focus switched from Roman to Islamic sites and ruins to active ones.

We stayed in a lovely hotel built in an old Kasbah fortress.

Kairouan was founded in AD 670 by an Arab general as a fortress site. It grew into a town and eventually a city. In the 800's the Aghlabid dynasty made it their capital and built waterworks, the Great Mosque, a university, and more.

Today all that still exists of the waterworks is the Aghlabid basins, two large water tanks to store water from the aqueducts. There was confusion in our group about the need for storage tanks like this. Basically they serve to even out the differences between inflow and use of the water. Like a modern water tower, fluctuations in use can be adsorbed by the water in the tank while the spring feeding the aqueducts provides a steady flow. There were originally more tanks, but today there are only two.

Then it was onto the Mosques, the first was the Mosque of the Barber, which contains the mausoleum of Abu Zama' al-Balawi a companion of the Prophet Muhammad who was supposed to have saved three hairs from the Prophet's beard. It was built in the 14th century but remodeled so that the current dates mostly from the 17th century.

It has very nice carved plaster on the upper part of the interior walls, but really ugly tiles on the lower (my opinion).

We were able to get to the courtyard but not the interior of the mosque.

Then it was on to the Grand Mosque, originally built in the 670's and therefore one of the oldest in the Islamic world.

After a quick look around the local streets and a rug shop we headed out towards El Jem.

This is a very dry area, but there was agriculture the whole way. Instead of wheat, it was now mainly olives, with the trees getting wider spacing when it was dryer.

There were also fields of prickly pear cactus, which they grow for the fruit, but they don't eat the paddles like in Mexico.

I can see that I won't have enough space for photos of El Jem on this post, so will start another.

[j4gm]

Got my ass beat at chaotic eight player Monopoly at a board game afternoon yesterday. They had the Wales-Cymru edition, which is extremely weird.

It's bilingual in English and Welsh, and features Welsh landmarks, which is cool. But almost every tile on the board is sponsored by a company. Instead of the waterworks there is a "communications" utility sponsored by Orange network, for example. One of the tiles isn't even a place, it's the TV show Pobol y Cwm.

There was also a funny typo on one of the chance cards. If you read it in English, the bank had to pay you £20. But if you read it in Welsh there was an extra zero and the bank had to pay you £200.

I looked it up this morning and found a delightfully ancient BBC web page about it from 1999.