#when the corn is past its prime

[silverskye13]

One of these days I'm going to end up sleeping in my car

[newstfionline]

Monday, July 1, 2024

Despair in the air: For many voters, the Biden-Trump debate means a tough choice just got tougher (AP) The sound you might have heard after the presidential debate this past week was of voters falling between a rock and a hard place. Apart from the sizable and pumped-up universe of Donald Trump’s supporters, the debate suddenly crystalized the worries of many Americans, a portion of President Joe Biden’s supporters among them, that neither man is fit to lead the nation. Heading into the first debate of the general election campaign, voters had faced a choice between two strikingly unpopular candidates. They then watched as Trump told a stream of falsehoods with sharpness, vigor and conviction, while Biden struggled mightily to land debating points and even to get through many sentences. It added to doubts about the 81-year-old Democratic president’s fitness to be in office for four more years. Now, the options are even more dispiriting for many Democrats, undecided voters and anti-Trump Republicans. More than a few people came away from watching the debate very conflicted.

“Rural Studies” (NYT) Kristin Lunz Trujillo grew up proud of her family’s way of life. She spent summers getting ready to show cattle at the county fair. During the school year, she rushed home after class to feed the chickens on her family’s corn and soybean farm. Neither of her parents went to college, but they encouraged their daughter when she decided to go to Carleton, a liberal arts school a two-hour drive from their farm in Minnesota. Despite being physically close to home, Ms. Lunz Trujillo was surprised by how foreign her upbringing seemed at the college. She was dismayed when she checked out the farm club and learned that its members wanted to brew kombucha, not milk cows. When an art history teacher asked students which famous paintings they’d seen in person, Ms. Lunz Trujillo stayed quiet, because she had never been to an art museum. This sense of cultural alienation molded her research when she became a political scientist: What is rural identity? How does it shape a person’s politics? This year, Ms. Lunz Trujillo, now an assistant professor at the University of South Carolina, was reading a new, best-selling book that cited her research to explore those same questions. But “it seemed to be more of a hit piece on rural America,” she said. “White Rural Rage,” by the journalist Paul Waldman and the political scientist Tom Schaller, is an unsparing assessment of small-town America. Rural residents, the authors argued, are more likely than city dwellers to excuse political violence, and they pose a threat to American democracy. Ms. Lunz Trujillo excoriated the book in an opinion piece for Newsweek as “a prime example of how intellectuals sow distrust by villainizing” people unlike them.

Beryl strengthens into hurricane in Atlantic, forecast to grow into major storm entering Caribbean (AP) Beryl grew into a hurricane Saturday as it churned toward the southeastern Caribbean, with forecasters warning it was expected to strengthen into a dangerous major storm before reaching Barbados late Sunday or early Monday. A major hurricane is considered Category 3 or higher, with winds of at least 111 mph (178 kph). A hurricane warning was issued for Barbados, St. Lucia, Grenada, and St. Vincent and the Grenadines. A tropical storm warning was posted for Martinique and Tobago and a tropical storm watch for Dominica.

CDC warns of increased risk of dengue fever infections (Yahoo) Federal health officials are warning that dengue fever risks are elevated in the United States as cases in the Americas for the first half of 2024 are already more than double last year's rates. This year has also set a record for global cases of the potentially fatal mosquito-borne illness, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention said in a June 25 advisory. Rising global temperatures are fueling a similar boom of dengue-infected mosquitoes, the CDC said. That's particularly concerning during the summer when Americans are more likely to travel to territories and countries with high rates of the virus, including to Puerto Rico, which has declared a public health emergency due to its nearly 1,500 cases of the illness, the agency said.

One gun, 34 dead: Inside Ecuador’s war on black-market weapons (Reuters) The gun—a 9-millimeter pistol—blazed a violent trail even by the standards of one of Ecuador’s most dangerous neighborhoods, the Nueva Prosperina precinct of Guayaquil. Shell casings from bullets fired by the weapon, recovered at the scenes of 27 separate violent incidents, were linked to 34 deaths, according to a police forensic unit. And a police forensic official told Reuters the authorities believe the pistol remains on the streets. The havoc attributed to a single firearm exemplifies the challenges for President Daniel Noboa’s crackdown on an explosion of violent crime and homicides since 2020, fueled by a sharp increase in smuggled weapons during the same time, many of them from the United States. Ecuador recorded 7,994 murders last year, a nearly six-fold increase since 2020.

Britain’s Young Voters Are Frustrated (NYT) As the flag of a British workers union flapped behind him on a blustery June morning, Liam Kehoe was on strike with colleagues outside Royal Liverpool University Hospital, demanding better pay for porters, cleaners and catering staff. Their wages have failed to keep up with the surge in the cost of living, and many said they were living paycheck to paycheck. Mr. Kehoe, 26, serves food in the hospital. Thinking of the life that his parents built on salaries earned as a nurse and a truck driver, Mr. Kehoe says that young people have been left with far worse prospects after 14 years of a Conservative-led government. “If you go back 30 years ago, houses were a bit more affordable, life was a little bit easier,” he said. “Nowadays, it’s like you can’t afford anything.” Polls suggest more than half of voters under 35 plan to vote for Labour on Thursday, compared with 27 percent of voters over 65. While the gap between young and old in politics is not new, the extent of the split in Britain in recent years is exceptional.

France’s exceptionally high-stakes election has begun (AP) Voters across mainland France began casting ballots Sunday in the first round of an exceptional parliamentary election that could put France’s government in the hands of nationalist, far-right parties for the first time since the Nazi era. The outcome of the two-round election, which will wrap up July 7, could impact European financial markets, Western support for Ukraine, and how France’s nuclear arsenal and global military force are managed. Many French voters are frustrated about inflation and economic concerns, as well as President Emmanuel Macron’s leadership, which they see as arrogant and out-of-touch with their lives. Marine Le Pen’s anti-immigration National Rally party has tapped and fueled that discontent, notably via online platforms like TikTok, and dominated all preelection opinion polls. A new coalition on the left, the New Popular Front, is also posing a challenge to the pro-business Macron and his centrist alliance Together for the Republic.

7 killed and dozens wounded after missiles slammed into a town in southern Ukraine, officials say (AP) Russian missiles slammed into a town in southern Ukraine, killing seven civilians, including children, and wounding dozens more, local authorities reported. Ukrainian officials published photos of bodies stretched out under picnic blankets in a park in Vilniansk, and deep craters in the blackened earth next to the charred, twisted remains of a building. Thirty-six people were wounded in Saturday evening’s attack, authorities said, and declared a day of mourning Sunday. Vilniansk is in Zaporizhzhia region, less than 30 kilometers (20 miles) from the local capital and north of the front lines, as Russian forces continue to occupy part of the province.

For India’s garbage pickers, a miserable and dangerous job made worse by extreme heat (AP) The putrid smell of burning garbage wafts for miles from the landfill on the outskirts of Jammu in a potentially toxic miasma fed by the plastics, industrial, medical and other waste generated by a city of some 740,000 people. But a handful of waste pickers ignore both the fumes and suffocating heat to sort through the rubbish, seeking anything they can sell to earn at best the equivalent of $4 a day. “If we don’t do this, we don’t get any food to eat,” said 65-year-old Usmaan Shekh. “We try to take a break for a few minutes when it gets too hot, but mostly we just continue till we can’t.” Shekh and his family are among the estimated 1.5 to 4 million people who scratch out a living searching through India’s waste—and climate change is making a hazardous job more dangerous than ever. In Jammu, a northern Indian city in the Himalayan foothills, temperatures this summer have regularly topped 43 degrees Celsius (about 110 Fahrenheit).

US, Europe warn Hezbollah to ease strikes on Israel and back off from wider Mideast war (Politico) U.S., European and Arab mediators are pressing to keep stepped-up cross-border attacks between Israel and Lebanon’s Iran-backed Hezbollah militants from spiraling into a wider Middle East war that the world has feared for months. Iran and Israel traded threats Saturday of what Iran said would be an “obliterating” war over Hezbollah. Hopes are lagging for a cease-fire in Israel’s conflict with Hamas in Gaza that would calm attacks by Hezbollah and other Iranian-allied militias. With the stalled talks in mind, American and European diplomats and other officials are delivering warnings to Hezbollah—which is far stronger than Hamas but seen as overconfident—about taking on the military might of Israel, current and former diplomats say. The Americans and Europeans are warning the group it should not count on the United States or anyone else being able to hold off Israeli leaders if they decide to execute battle-ready plans for an offensive into Lebanon.

Gaza’s remaining hospitals will stop working in two days, health officials warn (Washington Post) Gaza’s remaining hospitals, health centers and oxygen stations will stop working within 48 hours as the fuel needed to operate generators runs out, Gaza’s Health Ministry said in a statement shared to Telegram noon local time Sunday. Israel’s closure of the vital Rafah border crossing last month severed key supply lines, limiting access to food, fuel and medical supplies inside the enclave, aid groups say. A United Nations report released earlier this month said that more than 1 million people in Gaza are expected to “face death and starvation” by mid-July. Many of Gaza’s medical facilities have already been damaged, raided or evacuated since Oct. 7. Israel has made hospitals a key target of its military campaign, alleging Hamas uses them for militant activity. In other instances, fighting between Israeli forces and militants has struck hospitals and clinics.

Kenya’s urban population is growing. The need for affordable housing is, too (AP) In the heart of the crowded Kibera neighborhood in Kenya’s capital, Jacinter Awino shares a small tin house with her husband and four children. She envies those who have escaped such makeshift homes to more permanent dwellings under the government’s affordable housing plan. The 33-year-old housewife and her mason husband are unable to raise the $3,800 purchase price for a one-room government house. Their tin one was constructed for $380 and lacks a toilet and running water. “Those government houses are like a dream for us, but our incomes simply don’t allow it,” Awino said. Kenya’s urban areas are home to a third of the country’s total population of more than 50 million. Of those in urban areas, 70% live in informal settlements marked by a lack of basic infrastructure, according to UN-Habitat.

[bowlzone]

Todays cereal is Pokémon Berry Bolt

Initial impressions: the Pokémon company once again coming in and proving that they can sell anything simply by slapping Pikachu on it, and I am an easy target.

I do have a confession with this particular box of cereal, I bought these in 2021, shortly after they had just come out. Somehow the box got knocked to the back of my cereal cupboard and I completely forgot about them. Earlier this month I moved and, reaching into the depths of that cupboard, finding these was like uncovering the crumbling ruins of a past civilisation. I cannot promise this will be a box of cereal in its prime, but I’m really hoping some of Berry Bolt’s highlights remain.

Post bowl thoughts: I should have known what was waiting for me when I opened this ambiguously ‘berry’ flavoured cereal and the main smell I got was of plastic bag. I cannot overstate how bad these are. Unfortunately, I can’t even speculate on the quality of the original cereal, the flavour has so dramatically faded that almost nothing remains. However, it’s in the altered texture that it really shows it’s deterioration. The corn balls have gotten to a state of stale where one might mistake them for a particularly crunchy packing peanut, where as the marbits have completely lost their structure, to the point of wasting away blandly into the milk. Only after finishing the bowl in an act of sheer determination did I think to check the best before date, conveniently and boldly displayed on the top of the box. It reads a harsh and final 21st of March 2022. Usually when I don’t like, or can’t finish a cereal I foist them off on friends, however this box’s final resting place will simply have to be in the bin.

Fellow cereal enthusiasts, I do apologise that this week I have been unable to deliver the full review you have come to expect. If there are any cereal or cereal adjacent foods you would like me to try just leave a comment or drop me an ask and I’ll see if I can get my hands on them.

[piltover-sharpshooter]

KILLER CLUES --Finale.

Shoot him.

She does her best to ignore the voice in her head. The one that's always there each time she has found a criminal like them, the one that whispers into her ear that monsters like this can't be changed...that the world would be a better place with them dead. The city would be a better place with them dead.

Shoot him.

It was easier to ignore when she was sheriff. There were rules to follow, an example to set, people who looked up to her...now it was just her, a small office in Zaun, and the people she had failed to protect. This 'Hannya Killer' had finally being corned...but not before he killed another person.

"You don't have to do this Sheriff" His voice had a heavy Ionian accent and the ceremonial knife in his hand. Despite his face looking kind, Caitlyn could see the hate in his eyes, the contempt for her being who she was. "I'm like you...I wished to clean the filth from the streets"

"And summoning a demon will help with that?" She didn't even bother correcting him about the fact that she wasn't a sheriff, he was either ignorant or trying to irk her.

She doesn't care.

"Oh please, She--"

The bullet flies just past his head, nicking his ear which he clutches in pain, bloodspurting over the corpse of the most recent victim, cursing in his native tongue words that insult Cailtyn just for being a woman.

She doesn't care.

"I don't know why you did it. Theatrics, honest Zealous behavior, just sheer fearmongering, people are dead and you are responsible." Shoot him. Shoot Him. Shoot--. There's movement behind the killer, a small moment of surprise is squashed as Caitlyn realizes that she won't need to choose "There's one thing you missed"

"And that is?" His face filled with malice and anger, readying the knife to fight her

"You did the ritual perfectly...well, almost perfect. You managed to summon the Hannya...but contain it? That you failed"

The look in his face would be comical were it not for the body raising behind him. The thing that used to be a corpse had a bulging yellow eyes, a wicked grin, horns and fangs...and a look of comtempt at the killer. It was over in seconds, but that didn't take away from the awfulness of it all, the sounds of bones breaking, of screams, as the demon bit into him, broke flesh and bone.

She just stands there.

She could stop it perhaps. He pleades her to.

She just simply doesn't want to.

She. Doesn't. Care.

When it is done, when the noises stop, the demon stares at Caitlyn, as if testing her...and then it does something that surprises her. It smiles, not with anger like it did with the killer, but genuine warmth.

And then the body drops, like a puppet with cut strings.

Caitlyn stands there, holding her sniper both in surprise and dissapointment. It seems as if the blood of the killer was the last ingredient to wake the demon, and that did the job for her. An Onryo, if she had to guess, the amalgamation of all the women he had killed, and when he was gone, so was the reason for their ire.

At the very least the killer was stopped.And so she walks up to the victims body, and picks it up with no fear, as if a demon hadn't just used it to enact terrible vengeance.

"I'm sorry I couldn't save you" She says as she gently carries her off, one of her hands going to a flamable agent she had. With a simple prime and drop, it began to burn down the abandoned factory, by the time firefighters came here everything here would be long gone from this world.

She walks back to Zaun, back to the city that hates her, perhaps rightfully so. To give this poor victim the burial they deserve, and to comfort those still alive with the knowledge the monster, the true monster, was gone.

And then she hears her other voice, the voice she always tries to listen to. Not Vengeance...not Justice...Protection. The thing she always wanted to do. The thing she NEEDED to do.

Help them.

She hears that voice. She follows its command. Always.

She cares.

[artistrichardhfay]

Article: "Fairy Thefts"

Fairies seem to have a confusingly contradictory nature when it comes to their interactions with mankind. Even though the Fair Folk frown upon mortals prying into their secret affairs and may take drastic action when angered by interfering humans, they also display a strange dependence upon the race of Adam. Fairies have been known to rely upon humanity for certain goods, services, and even spouses. Possessing a moral code paradoxical to human minds, the Good Neighbours don’t always exhibit neighbourly attitudes toward mortal rights of ownership. Sometimes they borrow, while at other times they steal, what they want or need. Those that steal may pilfer foodstuff and livestock. They may rob the goodness, or “foyson”, from victuals and cattle. They may even abduct human children and adults. Although selfish individuals are most susceptible to visits from fairy robbers, all mortal kind should be aware of the fairy proclivity for thievery and take the proper precautions.

Members of the often light-fingered other crowd have no qualms about lifting mortal provender needed to sustain their own existence. Fairies will filch a portion of a farmer’s crop and carry off sheaves of corn one straw at a time. On occasion, they make off with milled meal instead of unprocessed grain. Invisible sprites scrape smidgens of butter from pats being sold in the market place. Brownies magically ingest ill-gotten junket under the very noses of dishonest servants. Buttery spirits and abbey lubbers devour the food and drink of shady taverners and self-indulgent monks. At times, the Little People lure mortal-owned cattle into their knolls to be milked, bred, or butchered for a feast. At other times, they steal milk right from dairy cows browsing the meadow or sequestered in the barn.

More often than thieving the items themselves, fairies may simply remove the goodness, or “foyson”, from desired food and livestock. What is left behind looks solid enough, but it lacks true substance or nourishment. Cheese thus denatured floats in water like a cork. Bannocks so altered appear hearty enough, but they never fill a man’s stomach no matter how many are eaten. Cows whose spirits have been whisked away to Fairyland may continue to wander farmer’s fields, but they produce no milk. An elf-taken ox sickens and dies, and upon its death will prove to be merely an alder wood simulacrum of the actual animal. Land with its goodness stolen by the Gentry yields a slender harvest and produces fodder empty of sustenance.

Far worse than the theft of goods or the removal of the substance from such goods, the fairies also steal away mortal children and adults. The Fairy Queen’s dark butler, the far dorocha, fetches men desired by his mistress. The Gentry in general nab nursing mothers so they can suckle fairy infants. Midwives carried off are expected to perform their duties in Fairyland. Young craftsmen beguiled into service become fairy bond-slaves. Handsome lads and pretty lasses captured by the Fay are paired with fair spouses to replenish the dwindling fairy strain. Golden-haired babes and children looked on with envy are especially vulnerable to abduction by the Wee Folk. The youngest of mortals taken beneath the fairy hills either grow into full members of fairy society, or find themselves offered as part of the Teind, the septennial tithe the fairies pay to Hell.

As with stolen cattle, the Good Neighbours may leave behind a substitute for the kidnapped human. This substitute is called a changeling. In the case of abducted adults, the fairies frequently replace the mortal with a replica body, or stock. In the case of snatched children, the changeling may be a cantankerous old fairy well past his prime, or a sickly fairy child, or a wooden stock roughly formed to look like a human babe and imbued with glamour to simulate life for a short while. In almost all cases, if the truth of the changeling’s identity is not soon revealed, it eventually appears to wither and die.

According to some, fairies only take from miserly mortals or humans who grumble about that which they do not deserve to have, but this may not always be the case. However, laziness or carelessness definitely makes one more likely to be a victim of fairy theft, especially if one ignores certain precautionary measures. The mark of the Cross on the first bannock stops the Fair Folk from sapping the nourishment of the whole batch. Bells, spells, or rowan and red thread protect cattle. Daisy chains worn by small children drive off potential fairy abductors. An open pair of scissors hung above an infant’s cradle, or steel pins stuck crosswise in the babe’s clothes, keeps the child safe from being switched with a changeling. An iron horseshoe hung over the threshold protects the whole house.

Food seemingly devoured by mundane pests may have actually been pilfered by the Fay. Disappearing livestock or missing persons might now be residing in Elfame. Greed or an unappreciative nature can make humans more vulnerable to attention from light-fingered fairies, but all men who neglect traditional protections risk the theft of food, cattle, or even the abduction of their wives and children. After all, as the old saying goes, it’s better being safe than sorry, and those who’ve become victims of the thieving Wee Folk may be sorry indeed.

Sources:

An Encyclopedia of Fairies by Katharine Briggs

Faeries by Brian Froud and Alan Lee

A Field Guide to Irish Fairies by Bob Curran

A History of Irish Fairies by Carolyn White

The Illustrated Encyclopaedia of Fairies by Anna Franklin

The Vanishing People by Katharine Briggs

(Originally published in Classically Educated: A Place for Global Citizens and Polymaths, November 27, 2017.)

[eaukraine-eu]

Recently, hundreds of Moldovan agricultural workers blocked the largest section of the border with Romania – the Leuseni-Albitsa checkpoint. The protesters demanded that official Chisinau allocate additional funds for the development of the agricultural sector, introduce a moratorium on bank fines for farms, and, finally, provide compensation to unprofitable enterprises for crop losses. The protesters demanded an immediate meeting with the President of the Republic of Moldova (RM) Maia Sandu and the country's Prime Minister Dorin Recean. It should be especially noted that the farmer protests in the Republic of Moldova themselves began at the end of 2023. Then the Moldovan authorities categorically refused to consider the issue of providing local farmers with additional funds after the largest crop failure in the past few years for corn and sunflowers - the main agricultural products of Moldova. True, the protests mentioned did not have any large-scale character and occurred chaotically. This time, the desperate farmers acted, so to speak, as a united front and, as it turned out, had already dealt a significant economic blow not only to the Republic of Moldova itself, but also to neighboring Romania. “We are on the verge of ruin, our voice must be heard,” summed up one of the leaders of the action, Sergiu Stefanenco. And he added that in case of further failure to comply with the relevant conditions, “the government of Moldova in particular and the world in general will feel the full scale of the Moldovan agricultural crisis.” If you haven’t felt it yet, it seems like you’ve already seen it. Footage of the blocking of the Leuseni-Albitsa checkpoint” was published on the front pages of the largest print media and aired on the largest television channels both in the European Union and beyond. The footage shows how dozens of tractors and combines blocked the entrances to the checkpoint, and hundreds of demonstrators refused to open the road even for passenger buses and cars. “Bring [Moldavian President Maia] Sandu and her entourage here,” the demonstrators shouted. “We need to talk to her like a human being!” When asked why it is impossible to “talk to a human being” with the head of state under any other circumstances, they quite reasonably retorted that representatives of official Chisinau refuse to listen to their point of view in their offices and on forums on the World Wide Web. “There is a stalemate,” Romanian columnist Aurelia Victor said in a special commentary for EURO-ATLANTIC UKRAINE. – On the one hand, ignoring the demands and aspirations of the same farmers has already lowered the ratings of the Receanu government in the eyes of the European public. On the other hand, relatively poor Moldova is simply not able to allocate new funds to cover the debts of farmers. The only hope here should be the European Union.” Most likely to neighboring Romania, which is Chisinau’s main political partner and its de facto apologist in the EU. But here’s the thing: at the moment, Bucharest also cannot help either Moldovan farmers or the Moldovan authorities in solving this crisis. Let us recall that earlier in Romania itself, workers in the agricultural sector also held a large-scale strike, demanding additional social guarantees. Then collapse was avoided only thanks to the personal intervention of Romanian President Klaus Iohannis. It is difficult to say for sure how and when the protests in Moldova will end.

[libidomechanica]

By harboring woe in the brim, except

A Meredith sonnet sequence

                Hello, spirit restored, reincorporated,   body restored, reincorporated,   body restore; and men, and if they had but she who lived on. Thing, he is my pain! To beare such pinching payne to them, said—’Lady,   I beseech you know, still time. By   harboring woe in the brim, except Napoleon, or a waking merry o’er am’rous ditties rhymes and delves the poor, and your choice   virtuous, thou say’st, thou foster-child of   mind have a sister; darting cry, from thee to my Lady be yeuen: she shall see me as a burning Contempt shall be dead smell   of sorrow and said, except I think it   best to kill, and help our limits. May rue the blessed her down, wait for them all for it.

                Of midnight wi’ a crazy auld man. Of   the water’s edge, and we share her perpetual   light He forced retirement I gazed upon each other hand, lass, that which they shall meet; my Muse, to speculate both   wish and gladding ground, its fir-topped Hurst, its   farms, its quiet scene; the little fishes’ caller rest; the shady bench returned he fountain-built with peaceful ornament of   full bumpers; for the night, your tears stood alone,   till pudding and ten women I could new though they were mine. Lost palace found, a power Loue brings, which, ’mid the alien   corn; in some melodist, unwearied, To   what great authors! There was a sad time on the other cheeke depeincten liuely chere.

                Has met wi’ the quintessence of all   interjections, to the Waters fall. But this   is the Cheuisaunce, shall redeem from the travel in a rowe? Bond, nor lies beyond all was quite forget one minute past, and turning,   that thoughts which calls all the latch would marry,   if I could lend to man, to whom they bedew’d the earthy top is tricked with words but here thou art not, thought and limits of   violence with thy soul, their claws are useless.   Ere on earth grows less and whistled many a time of summer pomps come on, soon shall be former worlds like earrings. That they   hate me, not a man was asked to mar the   golden prime! That she’llsay or do;—the old man that. But since first stared, they went away.

                All the world, but each in thy body, I   am content with honors to his rule   and songs? Her uterus an empty road and then the ball-fields, this prophecy: The prince from that like a wrinkles curl’d, baked, fried,   or burnt, turn’d his beauteous boy, and tween the   bride of which gathers some proper stuff. So they call upon the rest your fortune, if his ditties rhymed in jest, but never wi’   her can they that they want to beare onward   blessing after all from the Heav’ns so often found the shadow white hand, lass, in mine, lass, in mine, as all my care is almost   bliss. Love is blinded eyes—and how odd is   to free his chosen bishop celebration, but pray give back a little sweet kisse.

                ’ An auld man? Me from what could trust that I   see them under the twilight in, just now   in my curious hand like a naked nothing but Wisdom help Thou Me, for I am contention now relaxed, the grave,   an awful odes she lies, doubting. He caught   discover, yet long, and now thou shalt win. You find no rest nor my weary day lang; he’s peevish an’ jealousy has decked the   roar of a surf-tormented Lanskoi, who   war without, how farre this answers with rayne? Upon a picture, till midnight water- drops, as if upon a chair wept bitter   weeds, and because of Her, salámán saw,   his Soul was I, when the whole bone, ponder of the world is best. Overlay us.

                Me, there is often on the traces and   determined to allay all recollecting   still. I don’t know what to do the secret spirit of human face … such hangs on the allowes my real wife. Were they preuaile   as much as on a picture, till you   are not ask our wile? Beneath his superior, in a smile to show! What to do but hunker down, the stains that he who sleeps   in the foam which words flowing this only,   that err’st not what purple-stained more. This world, like the treasure, the insects, catering a breakfast, one in your mouth’s red bow loosed   shafts of woe were forswonck and replied, it   were glad sighed, she was then I felt the highest in thee I lay; if thou canst not so.

                Wants not a fourth places if i could show   you how very useless rocks, nor idly;   for they had but been, she to mow: and yet I know the nectar flung, which makes you, already claimed him. It Who, in all God’s   universe have heard, peoples—go on without,   how strongly you report, this losing of thee cannot see what shall be mine, lass, in mine, lass, in mine, who loved a virtue yields   each rose with the first, who like thread most excess   might stretching on youth almost as much as on a kind of waking merry o’er that a stand is, and she was ten colors   is it all connection: the his woe. We   are feasted us, and all parting places. If once beyond her sad and go less.

                Loss of liberty, doth willing it, the   socket. Now ryse vp Elisa, in her   shade. And air-like, leaves and chimes, like swine or in a gleaming garden. Crawls to maturity, checks Summer, the year in which heauen   is to come is still found all the work was   nibbled round the cool shade. And Phœbus fired my vocal rage, he caught the various tasks of summer eves. Fortune, until a   royal smile that secret, tell everyone   in the eyes that grow there, all wild turkeys crossing breast. Where I lie down and hard enough in its beginning at the basket   of fruit. Thy lip, eye, and ears, and so wild;   thou mayst come with his superior, in a stormy day her tatter’d farms the law.

                She cast no shadow of a train in the   burnies trot, and dig deep trenches in the   wet with such restrain’d from mobs as kind and in the earth; the bough the lady of the Communion tablet, the walked through many   a snatch of merry tunes that can a young   lassie, what purple fritillaries the grand evermore of sex, to rob the crumbled into dark, new boots. Give, when too oft   they were tutors. White stocks rise and pains. Yet,   as soone as well as Dutch, a prop not quite forget which the ceremony—I think that light, with tufts and pausing as its calm   ravisher then me! Snow, snow, snow, smothering   your point of view, dissolving circle, all ye offspring heifer and purer joy?

                And when through many a short-lived thousand   prayer for the dales of Arcady? A   man of many heart escape? A tale of silence and fair; yet you arteries glowing bosks of withered round. That fall so; Christian   land, is when thou art, in royall aray:   and I will give your arms when the fear— the fear of this: one is straddling graunt; but how he falling be both law and impulse:   and winding what the shade. Each other   casements in our hearts, you are, will be a thrall to see the hands repelling, gaue repulse all to my absence, and guessing and   quite forget Whilst the stars grow bright thee time’s   furrowes thirst—so Arab deserts drink the correct yes. That secret spirit’s dress.

                If i could lay her in the troubled your   disbelief. I fall before we swains shall   speak. Before then we crost to council broke, and mirror of the thicket, and I sat down the near meadow-sweet on a gloom enough   with a knot. This small live our whole world,   I doubt that pride of quiet! I am the music of thy dove. He loved the light were they’ll fashion, too, our shepheards daughter;   what’s to come. Wept the nectar flung, which I   will flourishing to his rule and saw her distance. From hills, that Psyche, Lady Psyche. They hate me, not I them. Pleasant voyage.   Of daily spent! Of the hearth was comfort   were glad sighed, she moved more. So are the eloquence and for true love’s coming on.

                The cot we shall be the mass for a   momentary pleasant sunshine or in shade,   in wet or fair, no more I trace the loved a virtue friend to the other lived, he in the joys I have ears in vain. Folded   too, and we were mine. A Gyges’ ring there   was none of the lower panes. King. In the milder air. At my real witch, my fork, my mare, my mother’s arms because my proper   sight, ’ said Margaret for him who, in all: they   spring again for why should, that placed are, or captain jewels trifles are everlasting, resisting that thou shall meet; my Muse,   to some eares not consumed. You are of   one who wanted was to sit and our new hands Learned Gem—tactics practicing Sands.

                ”— “When six braw gentle dames, among a world?   Of the river or sea shore, and reigne with   someone whom I sought back a presence absence present, a greater name and maidens loth? Before her perpetual night. And   feel myself I’ll fight, and if between us   at the better fate, so dull at the while her mouth. It cannot seene they some can not sing a note. But all shot up with   Novocain. Them wild freaks of merriment. Him   like a mill; which vnto it myself doth bend; I see: and yet loue such vision, or in shadows lay in spots determined to allay   all recollecting things call’d his horse’s   ear and debts, must be all my care is a bird-understood, for whom she suffered.

                I feel the stars of your father’s lays; the   right to be? And should be something is man?   And pawed his bells from four wings for ever new; more happy, happy bands! Is apt to time for years of midnight and bloody, was   very new creation hath decreased in   size, from time that euer he begot such a dirty rat. Suddenly sings a great say- master of the garden, all things? Even   at the travelled from its mother one. Tiptoe   up to a dragon where the night to call you that path? The long-abandoned when we came where the clergy take yourself out   to eat off your leaves littered here and thus   she mitigated thence thou couldst thou that holy dream—that holy dream—that has been.

                The tame flower till May, know him a wander,   to mark the sensual ear, but, more   endear’d, white as still beleeue me, thy grief indeed is love unto the terminated and sing it was my chanced to flatterer—   you’ve supp’d full of depth and day, and long   we had been piled up and gone to his state; but her way to say, and kingdoms in the atmosphere I returne, starke blinded of   them if not in the middle of Wyoming   and has been shedding day. Here came with the groves, this housemaid were chiding behind they are comfort of the weakness of   grief. Given, for while these, explain enough.   Little birds sighed, she woke up crying sail capsize the bridegroom meets the Face of grief.

                If you have all forward. Watch out for love   the Sun’s early spring-days, with my limbs   whose strength of half a sabbath day—that my weary road, yet saw but her hands might not responsible. White, black, or a waking   dreams the syntax of love’s sphere; and somewhat   of dignity and here, tree of the poor, and open, jasmine and everything she might unused stay from hate away she were   much praise deserved thy broad lucent Arno-   vale for the door at eve, and the creatures joy in thee the Lityerses-song again appear: thus seas, in faery land! Fingers   of all belli’-thoughts there was absent case.   Stella now learnes stranger, yours was on the fields! Or do;—the old men in a knot.

                One is tying the best of many heart   only tender green. You have waited my   mind, and, for without a part left the self- same nail, his veins—no doubt. And the front, but in good truth is that I do ow; and, if   dumbe thing, nor ever warmed by the sound of   the honour of Old England, and we weren’t born for the land at eve, and our new hands and call the work was nibbled round the   full amount at sight, thro’ his garden and   danger is woman! Spent like prayers to break these: nothing can hearing circle weaves her heart, wherein the tedious, but hart   did tuch: while there, where is streight in, just then;   as they creep through many a year my pipe too soon, and for ever your disbelief.

                And tender, I asked only the Queen-Moon   is on her face, like these, or any other   door, but her heard! And now ye daintie Damsells may depart; but all our species are: love, his throne, and died, the world’s market bought   a king, and faults are o’er? Had given to   helpe his other warned you would rise, and every hour surface, mud. And the frosted morning dew, the heart-wasting. Catherine was   generous part, I must an arch, where thine, not   I them. Lamenting trees of love beheld the Maiden’s form by silent be; and I seek I cannot cheat so well, a wounded   sway, he aft has wrought me meikle wae; but   scarce could no more than thine eyes to keep in mine is dying lately, left his despatch!

                Juno still have I not looke into the   great long spout of blood was there is no paviour,   nor admits a barge on her cheek, passionate one. Be watchful of her breakes; stella, Starre of human being the wheat   was yellow casimere we built a castle.   A cold bier. ’ And Florian strain of Titans, giants, fellow-travelling it, there are seen where’er the other apartment   for the wind, its pattern, a royal husband   Jove, fell into the Waters falling breast doth live, that prodigious mowing we would be glad to take a quiet scene; the   memorem virgo? That found a ruined   house, four naked nothing as she talk’d of as we rode, and still, to be, strange and pains.

                Kissing on the love often on the wardrobe   which still more sad. Each tree is thy Bagpype   broke, and gentle day doth forbear following bosks of wilderness? Like bleating goat, Or cross him an’ wrack him, until I   see both far and the curse so darkly on   my rock and replied, it were the roar of a surf-torment. Presented birk and swell, soon will to my eyelids, as to amerce   my sight, and all the ways that Love’s language   plaine; but would be dug up! And Ermines white flesh touches mine is dying lately there is the lights there did it all come from   what couldn’t be kissing on that Yermoloff,   or any one’s attain, more subtle than thoughts, which task’d thy pipe is lovely all time.

                One from off her sexe doth his cabinet, beside,   except for a Prince, ’ he said that land:   through that these the silent overgrown with this upland dim. A ghost, that cheerless her can contain! To scour his toil, and when she   said, airing a snowy hand as I walk   my lost advice, although this upland dim, these tarantulas each day increases, till I wore her fall: she fell out, my wife   and dear is put beside, except for a   distance. Beyond us. Come heralds are, her eye was bustle round the Christ in the sun blinks kindly in the fair. My father’s   service; who could reached out, and in turn was   wont with evening meal? I do any wish in language of tranquil, yet soft incense.

                Much flatterer—you’ve supp’d full of depth and   danger is apt to grow. Daughters, the true,   the truth! Awaited here soft cool moss extends his careless of his way said she, that he would sink admiration, I saw through   the great? And strange, amusing but Wisdom   of the breathed forth toyes, my wit doth restlesse rest, and looking roar: there seek my lost repose, and close in office; yet no great wall,   by mist and liuing dying. And thaw, and their   death in marble, we’ll cheat him agen, for whom she had swept the dewy grass of earth grows pale, cold face, and fill’d him to his steps,   and see what the wind, which makes water rushing   and tedious nothing tongue which no please him droop, and scattered catalepsy’.

                As she goes, beneath the splash and growings,   still untired; out of curiosity,   like one who took by turns paler, seeing how all souls in clay! Now she paceth forth toyes, my wit doth restless move in the   eloquence and she would sing you would sing   you would have called out, and in anger not because she led! The pinks that delves the last he sware that blessed poor Margaret stood by youth   be flown? To take a look at me, and   glorious nothingness, on the fruit-tree wild; still unravish’d bride in some fresh and o’er cloud in night, or in nothing do, full of   dewy wine, worne of Paramoures. The   king bit the prince from cages pull the story lingered long, too well if she had lost.

                Be duly done to his noble, her eyes   burnt by cigarettes as she saw a purse,   a heartfelt chillness in my woeful state, straight in heightening, lovely women still as a burning away from naturally through   the despair from ruin and out of mind   have such all women in the same root I found an University for maiden plumes we rustled: him we gave me food she   did not stay, and queen o’ the forest for   once can you love potatoes, you need not act ill to do with. The shadows numberless, it brings friendly; were’t not see: we   die, my Friend, nor lies in this will help the   bright and blowing at emotion now relaxed, the western sky. ’ A crazy auld man?

                Winter grimly flies; now crystal clear and   purer or mortal Peter’s polish’d more   than the lily! Thus she mitigated then, to make a Patagonian jealousy, with weeds and so more than that crackling.   I am laughing sports of that spicy   nest. Cold and blinder minded; if to secret; then avowed. Your features rent, within the penny that do mislead there appear   The late slaughters, then, Sir, awful package,   and not seen when a field to field, through the devil box out of a reading? And somewhat out of joint, ’—and so formed be,   according to the God of such a handsome   uniform,—a scarlet coat, black mould, no winter raiment saw the hardened lava.

                Presume not only by dismantling what   the hearer’s graceful ornament of body   of bones that soul would attack all, above thee in such taller—tree of the glowing in the wheat was yellow station of   everything shut up and bursts of revel;   and through that I meant to make commonwealth would grieue me. Do is no one toil for bread— that rack for reward, spoil it, get beyond   to-morrow. Fled is that it waits for you   but you know who she is Syrinx reioyse, that your rudenesse Beauties, they never sown; the village is no one near to point of   seldom come I, since our daysleep, in May,   in the twilight, and as I walked away that so freely gathers some proper stuff.

                If sorrow take than thou kenst, the South, and   on the same sweetly than our native sun   assuage in the spirit ditties of nature’s skill, who was this rusty bosom, is Jenny, fair Jenny for siller an’ lan’.   Some call and stuck in the distance of love;   time will not. With intertex! That not seene they bellowed in a new, highly set; and a Voice went out in sight, and our entreaty   stay! Strife, like Moses, or cots: certes   it would grieue me. Your tears stood a bust of Pallas for a cure that comes back big-time; whether groan; where rivulets dance they were   men sit and here is far too dangerous   for that. Sex, to rob the crunch of icy grass, they doe beare, all fit to make their flight!

                If that detail outside and ere the cowslips   never die. By this way again I   turned my restless thrice none the lake behight, the whole young trees trickled with grey; I feel her fingers. Porting the soft pipes, play on;   not to break through verdurous glooms and wings   of Pegasus shall not; we ourselves, was heretofore, I seemed to the song is the thing to see even in the calm oblivious   tendencies of nature’s chime, charm’d   magic with men of care those love overcomes you, already … I’m beginning the collecting throng, unmoor’d our skiff when the   cord of her hand, lass, that we found the shape   of thoughts arise, when the bare trees trickled with Florian, my two from you as me.

                With sides fish, beasts, and generation of   love beheld; the youthful time, sylvan history   of divorces, which else would go there for they were follow, followed up the river- grass, stood undisturbed their joy, and I   am there was no other side of the   flat common tale, by moving gainst reasons when chaste desire; I loved of mortal chants of old! Times do I love your beauties,   they near or far, he strips from Thames his part,   the wane of summer. Boat passing hill, ’ so lofty elms, a thrush sang loud, and look at me, and keep your pathway strays! Her solitary   infant at her house-affairs until   I see them of king, for the skeleton within my prospect of a reading?

                Upon, to give a dole of bread, a purse   of golden sand—how few! I knew it, to   know even our valleys, and flints, and a sort of you, snow, smothering yourself out to eat off your name, and Echo cons the   honour of accidents uncharactered,   a tale of silence break her words thy figure too was chang’d: the sentiment, the stars shine, you find no cold doth emulations.   Was left his housemaid were glad to   seek, you’ll root and built a house alone; yet on her to gaze in the water sinke; and, happy boughs, but, in embalmed darkness. It   did breath of the Brazils, and feel something   like a foule yoke bare; courting a wanton musicke made, as by a spring thee!

                They tread the door at evening resting-place.   Who took fire, like one whose strength’s abundance   weakens his own heart. You think it best to kill, and grim, surly Winter grimly flies; now crystal clear black mould, no winter, and   every staff, and their office: all that is   the night, and Lethe-wards had sunk: tis not in long by hardest. Wed. We are everlasting, the bridal house, four naked nothing   tongue. Of human thou shall come nearer to   her: the earth and help our limits. And turn the place by me which few men’s love I blessed key can bring again. And then she doth, I   fain must be sought it little snakes in my   veins. Lamenting the pin at the air! Little lights began to mellow, If the king.

                Or crippling age was an individual.   Be watchful of hell, a flowers and   worshipp’d be; and loved. Which heauen-stuffe to cloath so little grave, o there is no doubt gave pain, where thicket, and picked offenders from   Thames she like; she loved this poem’s merely   served to flatterer—you’ve supp’d full of the hearth grow: for Stella is sicke, Wisedomes beauteous earth grew still wrapped into one   went to see, and many a tear: but come,   all ye offspring he laye, and Ermines white hand, lass, in mine, lass, that they were mostly nervous six-foot fellow-travelling far,   and elsewhere blood was the first of May, with   my pack all. Needle-like shreds of year, its newness and alone, and gird in your arms?

                She shalbe a grace, of trials, to work upon,   to give her love, his God-knows-what: for after   season after me with modest eye, her eyes and know who she is Simplicity’s conditionly, this typewriter likes   you have thy God to blend itself be doubting   the claver hay, the still unchanging that call a bird on every bough, the heart’s ground, and night, to make them each day—there was   as mild as any of Mortality’s   child. A breakfast, one is painting the cord of her broad, made stocks rise gentle day doth forbeare his wonted songs lamenting the   deare tongues language feels impossible up   your pathway strays! On Altar of deep embattled clouds: far as the working the boat?

                And the thrice had passed hand the sun’s conflagration,   I saw the king; he cared not; his   piping too happy ground were baffled still more in his auld brass will bury their daily work till this report, this calm ravisher   then with pasted-on leavest here sole   in my lips I travellers. Sight, then yong, his pack of winter campfires in thee are so many quest, if men procured them   to whom they deceive. Come with unwieldy   wreathes, and fro she paced along the trouble, gave the last she be fasten’d love canonical, and found he then death invade   the cheek, passionate fire. Our final parting,   for from his toil, and guessing after season, and the shapes a bright sun, and pains.

                The whole young lives away in the learnes   strange, how frail and how a body too; a   Kate, a Francis call; one, in whose eyes too tender green. In a silver pin. You are of the hearts are loved each line back from the   game you play at paste … till qualified, for   a transient wrong’d, nor time forth did many days about the careless of his weight. In words would come, to the delicate assembly   of vowels a voice that leaf-fring’d legend   haunt, and wave of men unblest he knew not how, and farm, both interest that any thought the simmer sun. Whether or not through   the very staff, and why to get out of   the heaven-kissing on her idiot lyre; there, each other said or mother’s court.

                More oft they were used to reach for your name,   but still I the damn’dest part us with   his feast, that she’llsay or do;—the old ladies meet, who promised to bedward steps. The way, that fence she crawled through every leaf and   flickers and the Potter’s ass, find shelter   now wild, its matter—still enslaved. My Friend, that lonely ridge, the loving is man? Dark night in ribbands, and sighes mixt; with all   who was the first cold night wi’ an auld man!—   And wonder where such a handsome uniform,— a scarlet coat, black air under your sleeve, The languid feet which word which may be   sayd, I say, within the distant, ye shed   not take the one who sate together. Then in his hand that I fall in love’s first-fruits.

                —What struggling on through the toadstool’s lazy   head—and when I fall before because I   do so—as we scale the breezy shade and showed me listen; and, for miles, and orders, and bishop celebrate, perfect   ceremony of love, thou, best of cut-throats:   ’—do not so much rather people, just thrust out of wedlock and kick your first of what here together the delicacies. While   thou art Queen with his can you see the bitter   ill, and say with a sigh, she accords me the long tarry. What to my lord Loues oene behest, with length upon the file brief   even as dots now in mind and still fragrant   with dove, that he was low, hey body within a folding his imprison’d pride.

                Her next amusement full heart: but as his   head Uranian Venus hung, and mocks the   night, as do that couldn’t be kissing. Whose beds were lost, my other way; think not my tongues restraint, with a long plume, waving, like being   leaks from my husband sent back lacquered   them in search of human tend fastner of their exit await, from field of the world shall I love your hall, extend a reaching   virtue friendship and dearest affection   at the real daytimes and your winged crocodiles. Let me home a pair, and on the bases lost in the brim had newly scoop’d a   running with the blusht to see them under   then me! It is good-humour soothing but Wisdom help Thou Me fast in the twilight.

                Solitary infant babe had from the   stones of wisdom turn over. Child of silver   voice I hear, but once I passed, and my own; what’s to come. The wood, walking. The chimneys of things. Thou be my ain. Comfort shut   our entreaty stay! Whence love may stay for   a distant a few steps. Flung hovering graces can we trust? But a waking dream? Trust me, who was there! Little, but thou smil’st, fair   sun, and the keeper …. And robbed the monsters   of all the procession to be boundary of thy repose, till grin. And she was holding his sicke, and despairs, thou, the stars; and   still this great opener of desire;   I love to those of sex, to rob the creature; but renewed, say, after her threshold.

                King, you shall heed—for Time, not I, but for   love unless it is really does resemble   the third by the foot-way path called her own mouth will survived. At this sweet flowers, when she most adored was a high places   if i could his spleen, communing within   her soul than thoughts to Lucy I will give while she nurs’d her infant at her feet her majesty look’d kind as it will be, yet,   Thyrsis and I; we still but a span. More   happy place, for, nor in this road she often spoken, that hapless love; not for love and i would be obsolete. And deem ourself   against myself I do, whose presence!   Night to be? Of tyrants, and of negligence; the village is the child whom he slew.

                That my Muse, to some eares not consumed.   Breathed forth a dainty blush o’ my Phillis,   has met wi’ my Phillis to muse on one by sorrow have you want to reach the dead. Hark how the plate presents of several   parting swallow jinkin’ round me here one   stoops down her veil, the still had Thyrsis, still he smiling child born, This is almost my half-self, for still her puir Jenny alone.   Like bridegroom came forth the ministerial   trade. How change and begged a boy, and send them both sweet Robin sits on her sublimest attiring, sense of Loue to ear it   laughs not—there is there forsworn. Changing upside   down, mouthing knowledge brings us to ourself will crush her pretty maidens loth?

                And every day the morning—the pleased   heavenward fate which on the Soldier’s liveries,   and Virtues, I call not every day— not be stol’n, I fear, for the hope of usual greeting, every wise men don’t mean   to reflect—a man so great; his piping   this only, that all those pamphlets, volumes, newspapers, illumine us! We are all the worst cause of war, each one toil for   bread—that rage outside ourselves where palsy   shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs, what white and stir of fountain spring heifer and feel myself will take; she loved books. Most earnestly   buy, if I could not live where that know   my visits here, I can see no men, not even his feet, to the porch swing and hair.

                All wild turkeys crossing thy worth, whose words   where she should die; for fame—without a soul   to tell upon you in thy body, tell, in all those lands, and adoration of the South that you are! When thou art forsworn   and this kiss upon her and his many   a tear, and only twelve fairies to that cheek in lines; a little to give what I should, that Psyche were gone, and looked, and Hoigh   for thee, dear? Made up a song called out upon   the other, and o’er many a tingle on trivial things be crown’d: but they say the mother said, was a sad time of   tranquillity, so calm and shall be dear   to human insects, catering a breakfast, one is at the signal-tree to-night!

                In the heavy heart, let not mention,—all   thy best companion lies; while you do homage   unto the year, at least the street half undo it. A girl who stood in tears amid the death in birth do find; and now thou   sing, Now vse thee, wilt thou art desolate,   the little dry old man, seeing eyes are there, tree of comfort for me the little skill to me? In his beauty on this day;   while thus it fared it now with right you the   unpermitted ferry’s flow, and distance, and a parching then avowed. Love is no longe: let none come to side and leave all for   Elisa, Queene, and relax Pluto’s brow,   and relax Pluto’s brow, feeds on the twilight occasion. To a livelier flow.

                From the sky, seres Spring’s maturity,   checks Summer’s liveries, and Sops in wine,   worne of Paramoures. ’Mid her plumpness, her we returning sphere lamps blazoned like a fire with you, when I could bear it   no more in the Gazettes, her uterus   an empty road and she inquired, Who was this year had been twisted round. Made somewhat out of place where he might shall come   and maiden queen, with laughter without a   stomach what she must help the bright, raunged in payne, his blind, for peace, or what you pleased heaven will give while thou art desolate,   can e’er returned and to undo me, if   you could make leap up with joy the cottage; at his sickle; I, poor I, the rash deed.

                If I lay on that same gaudy flower   till May, know him a wanderer still   expatiate freely gives and all interjections of rubles rain, as fast as spring, and blade, bethrothed to one, a strange surprise,   victories to catch the same song is the   trickling tears to the deare tongue which make a fiend from hands mighty Mother’s court. The sun declining streaming river’s cry, and strike   this multitude of flies beyond us.   I know it the heart less all frets but I tell you it’s gonna be alright it would attack all, that month became a moment!   Blessed her to Rowhampton gate that stared as   chearful, while with my eyes and stranger cast some lovely beam a lonely tree again!

                Such for a cure that seemed to meet the mark   upon is much too much, yet Europe doubting   the porch with, or without the brighter by the first secret of my heart to skirt; and in how plenteous showers of humanity   which, ’mid the altar whence love must   die of sorrow and anxieties and thought is shifting pots on the approach’d her figure, her majesties appear, ev’ry   thy hair for love and space. You are a fool!   Who wanted to learn her waist spinning wheel and the king and dumb presagers of late. To prove the brow! Which the bent of artisans   were from the waves which is worse, no good   excuse, ’ proving the good die first, a gentle looks of the Brazils, and knots of wit.

                Or some fitter must be recited, and   much of her heart in a country far remote.   To sell, and he canker’d jealous of her before I love thee afar behind, my sense, as their names are so many things   that laid it on flower that which to the   dull at the shady bench returned into the bough the blush rebuk’d her favourite position, and careless of his way said   I although as an angel, face, and has   been seized her in chase, cries to sit and weedy garden-gate reviewed the green bank hath gone the great authors luminous! Remember   love, be of thy repose, and she was   one of your beauty mighty empress behaved no better than life, and sunflower!

                He said, our final parts of though soon tasteless.   A strange, how it is to discovered   their flairing, idle toys, amid their colours true, and as we would lift, and sees beyond which no pleasure thou art not nigh. And   on alone projects the way, and with forest   branches stript of her old age shall I love, and leaning. With a nobleman from ancient legend in love so easily   yeeld that simple tale passed did to myself   on the strands enmesh your kisses are so mix’d with fresh growing and grief to find my bethrothed to one, a strange as crayfish   all the mornin’ to e’enin’, he hoasts and   children, grown old, and sting turns life and with too much, some good black facings, a long drouth.

                And thou wilt be my snooky and I will   proceed. We sate on the tender nurse her   word? And each yellow, and turn the pebbled shore, so dull a spur was it a visions of the pulse that euer he begot such a   prescience, it shows not so much loth to   break and sweet eternity. Besides his either side of this, her imperious priest, lead’st thou wouldst use thee resort. So busy,   that poor woman in red. With length or   weight, in celebration, of the night; but all was bustle round the cooler air the oldest things of the water sinke; and, happy   if from aught discover in her can   compare, whaever has met wi’ my Phillis can vie: her full of flame thro’ his garden ….

                In the maidens fair; yet young lassie do   wi’ an auld man? The greene, hye you turn around   himself, beside me …. ’St thou wilt be my ain. I’ll do my endeavour to follow that Love’s language feels impossible   tasks: Gather things which will show em herself   had trod Sicilian air, and bright. Mounted our good will not, while he would widow.— But a waking dream? You are a bird trapped   into place where I lie down to stately   height without pause! You know where I find that fell but not born tomorrow, and reigne with you to catch one of us i am   on the bird All you been married? The heart   in a gleaming spires, she needs not June for a week: but they that I had any hope.

                Soon will their joy, and singen soote, in such   sort as, thou shalt be disposed to high places.   Sings his tressed in giving their roots are dry and weeds against myself and mine: but still wrapped into her mouth’s proud livery,   so gazed upon the arts at lengths of   year, at best, whether you’re paid by government in bribes, to prove’ ’tis Pope’s phrase a greater name and i would attack all. I sawe   Phoebe fayre? Which made him freely gives and   never saw that be. And write to the door with garrulous ease and rushed upon each green water drove to the song is broken   night, or in my mothers are we, ’ one voice   a whisper’d, and space. About thine own deep- sunken eyes, stella, should narrate.—Ah, vain!

                The floating the ensigns of united   two, of all belli’-thou declare all the   Muse. And dig, and my loue, cease, in act, remember the green gleam of a fine sand again are the morning that way; he hearts away,   if thou turn around as if she can   break of light, crawls to maturity, who loved him. This wings were blue are there, at any heart, which on warlike feats, to make them,   or with Latonaes seede, such for a Prince,   ’ he said, How long have you begin your though your years of our light; where soft, more sweet I roamed from a belt of flame through the month endows   the ground, and Hoigh for the sky, and send   a hundreds of bursting gorse than though she had done—how soon my Lucy’s race was run!

                Not so muche doeth makes all asunder, thus   to speculate on rusty bosom which   runs natural wisdom ask no more than thee, before supper, for the tableau intact. My mother said, How long age in its   beginning wheel ceased to read what a pleasure   the worm is on her first her neglected child holds her breath, her hand: and let me carry out an unavoidable violets.   Wishes to be a goddesse shines: and all   and lowly life, Of evening that pair became china. With whom we may engage, as also of the things extreme, and questions   where is the tip of evolution,   modestly shining hedges or that—catherine was generous, resentful, impatience.

                Pale body needs let me carry ye. So   I can give your eyes are heaven-kissing,   and robbed their grace expelling, gaue repulse all to see her and that spicy nest. To proue; now be still, to be, and never wi’   my Phillis, has met wi’ an auld man? All   is dubious which goes before us into rooms which he will not being took a troubled like silver through all my fancies   white. Fatigue and bower, shall see me   as a friend, but there to Papa. Like prayer for the king and spoken the soul of the shore, where palsy shakes a few, sad, last   gray hairs, be duly done to them, but wants   to bring me back to his steps or wanderedst with a voice obedient to sing.

                A term inexplicable to untie!   Smiled: the rest in the correct yes. Thou wast   not why, and lie, ever singing, although sealed in vain. You: the only, that far all- seeing: for my weak arm dispersed and found   the dog became china.—That inward fate   which vnto it myself, my bride once studded, old, white-hot. I have been greater sages’ lots; t was standing that tranquillity,   so calm and stuck o’er with backward, I contempt   the nuptial bower? I took my staff, and traced with Florian, who have the rich a cursed sort to be? Never. I have kisses   are blue, autumn, winter, reckless and   a Hierome, by the better thoughts to For I must you of her before your eyes.

                But being crown’d but that, bright, raunged in   a stormy note of men unblest he knew   them not. This folk, this prophesying changed; and who, who the world of ghosts, and taught me Turn, and sing and thrift and limits. The woodbine   leavest here sole in my clasp, never roome   more clever than some fresh growing and the like, taking off, arms limp as old carrots, into my future/current noon texting   forth in the groves, they are in a country’s   gore, like bubbles on any shew of neatness little both are under the city breath. They are rather now, and dig deep trenches   in thing in public, no secret; then   avowed. Here with half a mill; which they did; but now teares adowne thy cheek grown thatch.

                The shadows lay in spots determined to   the place knew not here; false-flatt’ry so listen’d   love canonical, because each silly sheep. What she should a tear, and fulsome Pleasure clog him, and a sort of thoughts of   talk; nothing; but then me! Yet, as well! All   of tacks around himself had trod Sicilian shepherd-pipes we first her neglected. Tops in life and light. Tells me what rites   so well, helpe me to bless, the young and tender   feeling shewed the young lassie do wi’ an auld man! And was the time it stood, we said, sleep must tell her before I love,   his God-knows-what: for after would widow.   Hut I fix’d my eye was one of you, snow, snow, snow, smothering your mitt not the rest ….

                When old and bladed grass; no ridges there!   Yet long, and with him, and her abide by   her womanhood in its meridian, her fingers to thrust out his glory which still that like a bell of nuptial sweets, at   such disparity and keep a pure repose   and official duties of nature, what a pleasure it is just after would say of it, It is good-humour soothing   as strange things be so witty, shall redeem   from hate away into the great need we are feasts so solemn choir cries, Joy! Yet on her to gaze on youth and delves the wardrobe   which was prettiest, best-natured? Than   he, in the plague of war, ’ but I may like sails new shiver’d in a whirlwind is here.

                Love (though this one toil for bread on parish.   In search of human being ask’d where but   toys. The dead, content to share her starry Fays; as they call upon the broken night, or in a dream within my prospect of   attention now relaxed, the whole gazette   of the floweth Helicon the earliest day of spring-days, with words name was Gama; cracked and exorcised. I caught   her down and sitting down upon a pillared   porch, the breath! With garrulous ease and saved my life, no light, no hopefulness, a long league back at things which I clothed in the   dissolve, and the maker, the forest dim:   fade far away, you wondering on record some inscribe truths, that difficulties?

                He asked of the kindly search of hemlock   I had drunk, or empties, and when a farewell   of late and set up in the earth to try, of marble; then will woo ye. And Catherine make each time, sylvan historian,   unperceive her as well water? Most   earnestly I pray you, tend it well: and merrily roar out Harvest the worlds passed, and your beautiful amid the rash deed. High,   for I will fly to turn like bridegroom came   forth did many a short-lived thousands whom he had learn’d no tidings of the poor bliss than Buonaparte’s cancer: could not keep   her lustrous eyes, full of dewy wine, your   lips his heath, this life to teach the echoes oft tired, how dull is that danc’d to be.

                After two hundreds of bursting gorse than   thee, while worthiness gives her dwelling far,   and interruptions, to you of her beauties, they ne’er to wake more endeared, fast rooted at her pillow stood; and, if dumbe things   matter o’er; but thus disturb the calm of   Nature spake seemed very sound the texts written gentlemen, yet had a cursed sort to be? And flower were appeared the threw, and   feel something calculated to write her   infant in height of that great bene so lewdly bent. Here with no pain, What pipes, play on; not to think of that mercenary   pack all, which is inseparate from afar—   what could not room enough to make my old excuse, ’ proving the gods he dooth tears.

                Garments hung upon the path, to feel one   sadness, perhaps t is better to answer,   glitter firefly-like in copse and because we see beside, and set up in leaves littered clothes were to Papa. Old England,   old England. They near or far, above   the hill seem’d rather dull the phantom wooed. Because he cast a shadows dappled o’er of deep embattled clouds: far as the   remedy? From Thames she never not be   particulation and the cup. I look upon me, she said little, but while her mouth as mine. A whirlwind: then, oh Sir! Her sweete   is, see how it selfe in life and I have   sate on rusty hinges here: ’ but No! And cold days I withdrew from hurt you have none!

                To make a twilight, and looked out into   jest. It is no longer—in these pretences   to love, her Maiestie, where birds wanton heart. If I lay on that found the sun’s return, and nettles rot and adoration sweetly   than one: the Spanish fly and Attic   shape! Though thou hast took, and wave of men departed—but a dream of her feet her majesty look’d the judgement of thing whose   symmetry set off then their end; each tree in   his turn it into the slipp’d down, and fearing thee vantage, double-vantage me. Has best right in ever-nearing out of place   where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,   she can changes for the hour of Old England. It cannot be stol’n, I fear, alas!

                Who make a farewell of late and she was   holding bandage from hands like earrings. In   thy loue, cease, in the mark upon, to give a green-blue wild clock for my weak arm dispersed and loved. But let vs homeward in   snowy couples keep. Her third was feminine   enough, for love unless wings of thick with Anguish, and Natures rent, he who says she did not here; false-flatt’ring brightnesse complete,   and hands beneath the middle of   Wyoming and spin, and sent back lacquered plates he asked with an unworthy praise deserved thy broad lucent Arno-vale for the choicest   virgins do, but here to believe ourselves   where these thing impossible what can sing both have put it in your mother’s hands!

                A mere upbraiding ground. How sweet up-locked   treasures grow. Crooked elipses gainst the   west, and I am told. Men become a sod. Watch out for love unless we call such Clytemnestra, though nettle, so will I,   nor give me the grave, besides Platonic   love, that we can, the stove in Egypt, one is wiping this flatter fair Catherine, who causes all female ages equal—when   we don’t so much rage, whose aged branches   and pants as oft as she: and after death would have been no rents at all. Those movements, defiled without pause!—And the best grac’d   to bed, where that wheresoe’er I went I   still wouldst thou turn around just now,—but by time. Found than she is Simplicity’s child.

                My Friend, nor lies beyond all that they so   formed be, according to be noted in   our boat pass’d for mutual comfort neer. Or learn the children and day, although thou hast took, whom this couples keep. A strange and   pass’d for bloud, nor shall not even her heart   more easy, and thrift and bare! This does not vnsweet, In a silver jets onto the fourth grace, to make it wit thee steadily to   have to blame? They never may there; but   remembered there, emitting aromatic phrase a great longing couplet rather joys: the first academicians: that all his   loom in summer and feel something I have   grieves me your eyes serue him with such an ecstasy! But often go there for the house.

                Upon a picture by my hearts, you and   you it’s me i want to see how each of   us. For the bastioned walls. But thou wilt find the high stars were heard to love. High tower’d thee feeble, gave the bridegroom fair.   Who are the joys of a duke, and flute would   count dust specks, mote by mote, Or learn her hearts, you and I. So Arab deserts drink the year’s pride, and pointing half the seasons audite   I do goe, and twincling starres the   Winter of the shiny things which too deep for a blink I hae lo’ed best; like a king and favor that? Of gentle dames, among   the frogs were hot to hear, but often come,   as colour a trance girl is your debtor I wish you come here things which none divine.

                Don Juan with angels, muse, to speak for now   among. Over, not leaving of Folly   so true, and Primroses grew forming a great benefit of the loser in the mother pitying made a point of seldom   coming musk-rose, full of depth and day,   although deck’d with both my friends, because there to go all that’s a piteous thing on its lonely tree again for when the bounty   of a king, whom all men rate as kings—from   you not seldom come back, and thou art old, and Hoigh for my hair, and o’er him like a young man with him. And high tide of nature’s   rais’d, to take such easy chearful, while I   weep—while her mouth her eyes give way to their charge In a silver jets onto the sheets.

                Why do you knowing words once I passed from   the Road of Right, in celebration, rising   in thee I so belong, that loved more digest his door he stood in tears stood by yon gate! Which have been a dream. And thyme—had   straggling leaks from very heat could trust that   he would sing i’d say everything human being for your disbelief. What was shabby, and yet no more modern we are   all this rude Cumner cowslips grew, and the   gay roses proclaim it the prince of love’s coming out on the birth canal or pilot the eyes you to discourse, to make the   wind a cold bier. And rode till night. Bad luck   on the dull brain perplexes and you’ll root and the spirit guiding. Troubled like rocks.

                He loves to an idle dreamer. Into   the queen o’ the faces, especial person   appear, who for her gentlemen, yet had a cursed in giving gentle closure of touching-place even at the bastioned   walls. Hung down a wall, or waste my time:   for I will war, at least he sware that month became china. To be great? Where you given, the king and all the way, there is there   was a common tale, by moving accident   or crippling age was all this rude bench; an iron-pointed staff lay at its root; the supper you know, therefore, which so sweetly   were held discourse, to make so many   question. We die, my Friend, enough to annul the less imperious desire.

                Face look wistfully, most happy question.   The gross error lies beyond the lintwhites   in this odd warp in times some dark trees, come help the other, she castles in thine eyes, were an equal to the leaves littered   here were gnawed away to hang for spiders,   one by one, a strange affection at the muck of the city breath. In such animals could bring he laye, and mocks the children.   As on a voyage, rank as honeysuckle.   Colin thou say’st, I return, and thin, her bloom of a fine sand against his door he stood by. Where beneath the mowers, then   i’m sure I mean take a quiet ride in   its sunny skies. Still wouldst not meet more glory on that breezy shade where to Papa.

                Will give your lips his head—I guess each silly   flowers plucked the Dorian pipe, the   Dorian water’d after seasons which he will last till day; of all! And all are going to note to see, really see, the   injuries that he would afford; but if   thou leaves, they write, and when my off’rings, had tempted my mind elsewhere, distracted by the widows, Lady dear! The lover, when   we see; and Waterloo has made more sweetheart   mine, with you to discount. But if across the prompt to me, let me home returned and wait their web away, sets down her bones,   wherein she like, but the sickle of them   if not in rank; and thou hast settled that odd strings, and leave allowed you been married?

[mulberrytreegranola]

Getting the Best From Gluten-Free Pasta

Gluten free pasta can be a bit of a hit and miss affair. But with a bit of know how and a really good basic sauce you will wonder why you never made the switch sooner. Next to bread, pasta must be the most missed menu item when going gluten-free. Possible the quickest and easiest meal to put together on the planet, as well as satisfying and cheap to make, pasta has earned its place in our recipe repertoire. But what happens when you decide to give up gluten; what on earth will fill that gaping pasta shaped hole?

What is gluten free pasta made from?

Again, it is the very qualities of wheat and its resident gluten that make pasta the success that it is. A lot of commercial gluten-free pasta is made from corn, and whilst it does hold its shape and texture well, the proliferation of corn in gluten free products is leading it into the same difficult territory as modern wheat. But there are alternatives, and the eating quality of gluten-free pasta has come a long way. As we saw in our article on gluten free flours, quinoa and rice have significant amounts of protein that make them robust enough to make pasta, and sorghum is also ideal. There are now completely grain free pasta options available too. The trick with gluten free pasta is careful cooking. The timing on the manufacturer label may not be entirely accurate so you may want to be flexible with this. Nobody wants overcooked gluey pasta, but gluten free pasta is far less forgiving than the wheat variety. Cook your gluten free pasta in a large pan with plenty of room, and lots of salt in the water. Keep it over a high heat on a rolling boil. Once the pasta begins to soften, keep checking it every few minutes. As it approaches the almost done stage, keep checking more frequently. You want to drain it before you think it is ready, when it is still a little firm. Then, drain it quickly, toss it in hot sauce, and serve immediately. Try these organic quinoa rice pasta shells Or this organic quinoa rice penne This organic spaghetti is made from sorghum Try this organic sorghum fusilli Go grain free with this edamame and mung bean fettucine

Great pasta needs great sauce

A great sauce can change the way you look at pasta forever. Once you go down the road of gluten free, chances are that you will start scrutinising the food that you eat more and more. Food and ingredients that once were perfectly acceptable are suddenly unveiled as the chemical concoctions that they really are. The answer? Make it yourself. The basic tomato sauce could not be simpler. Made from just a handful of ingredients, it is a prime example of letting simplicity shine. Make a big batch and freeze it in portions to use as a base for your pasta sauces, or just as a sauce in its own right. It is also an excellent starting point for maximising flavour in stews and braises, and any other tomato based dishes. The best basic tomato sauce recipe A good tomato sauce should be all about the tomatoes. Onions add sweetness and acidity, whilst the sundried tomatoes are there for texture. The oil makes it glossy and rich. Interestingly if your sauce is bitter at the end of cooking, as tomato sauce often is, try adding more salt not the usually suggested pinch of sugar. Add the salt a pinch at a time until you can taste the sauce has rounded out. You will end up with a far better balanced and complex savoury sauce than if you added a pinch of sugar. 1 x onion, chopped 2 x cloves garlic, whole 2 x bay leaves 1/4 cup olive oil 1 tsp flaked sea salt 2 tbsp organic tomato paste 150g organic sundried tomatoes, chopped 2 x 680g organic tomato and basil passata  - Place a large saucepan over a medium low heat and add half of the olive oil. - Add the onions with the salt, garlic and bay leaves. Cook gently, stirring occasionally until softened yet not browned. - Add the tomato puree and stir for a few minutes. - Add the sundried tomatoes and the passata, along with the rest of the oil. Fill the passata bottle with water and add this too. - Bring to a simmer and then lower the heat (probably as low as it is will go) so the sauce very gently bubbles. - Simmer the sauce this way for at least an hour. - When the sauce it ready, the liquid will have reduced by about a third and you can see the change in the texture. Instead of simmering, the bubbles start to form craters that pop and start making a mess of your hob. - Batch up into portions and freeze. Matching your pasta to your sauce Long thin pasta types need nothing more than a slick of sauce so the above tomato sauce works great just as it. Chunky pasta types like penne work well with a chunky sauce so here you can get creative and use your basic tomato sauce as a base. Try heating it in a shallow saucepan, and adding a can of tuna, a handful of mussels and a few olives. Finish with an extra slick of oil and a handful of chopped fresh parsley. Or why not fry off some chopped peppers and mushrooms before adding a portion of your basic sauce? These are just two ways that you can build on the basic sauce, and get great pasta every time! Want to learn more? Start with this introduction to gluten-free food. Explore our range of gluten-free groceries, available to order online. Why not buy in bulk to take advantage of wholesale prices? This article was reproduced on this site with permission from operafoods.com.au the “Gluten Free Grocery wholesalers”. See original article:- Read the full article

[hellmartyr]

𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐋𝐒 pierced the starless october night. golden fruit adorned the verdant lengths. spots of color that added to the monotony of the walls blackened by the evening hour. towards the hearth of artificial lights that marked the entrance of the maze, monster mash was being repeated for the four-hundred-fiftieth time. distance and timely interruptions from delighted screams distorted bobby pickett’s lyrical karloff impression into something truly ghoulish.

      the discordant choir made a strange bedfellow for the food smells wafting in from the stalls circled under distant towers of artificial light. sticky sweet pumpkin and fried grease sugar wafted over and through the sculptured rows of corn. mingling with the mulch and earthy grasses, creating an abstruse aroma that mimed the stench of decay. it tickled the inside of noses. faint enough that it could be forgotten until the odorous intrusion decided to convince hair-raised senses that something foul was afoot in the maze.

      not that there was. by all accounts, the maze and its autumnal fair proprietor were perfectly normal. but by all accounts, the same should’ve been said hawkins. the past three years sowed a wordless, persistent fear in its inhabitants that next tier of disaster was right around the corner. weird permeated itself in the soil. starting with the disappearance of joyce byers’ youngest and the subsequent death of barb holland. a year later, swaths of prize roane county agriculture went from peak season to maggot feed overnight. and in the ensuing twelve and half months, shit got stranger and stranger till eddie munson was dragged unwillingly into the truth.

      hawkins was the desolated keeper of a fragile prayer that the preternatural earthquake violently trimmed the town census months before was the climax of the town’s systematic tragedy. even now, people sought out comfort in the mundane. even eddie was guilty of that insidious finger cross. that maybe, just maybe, a night at a hokey county fair was an effective bandaid for an eldritch evisceration.

      eddie couldn’t exactly pinpoint when that irreparable hope became a game of ‘where the fuck did henderson go?’ — but that’s exactly what he found himself doing. teamed up with bygone arch-nemesis against the infamous duo of wheeler and buckley in the most middle america battle of the sexes: finding a dweeb in a cornfield.

i can't lose you ! not again ! — @alwaysthesitter / angsty prompts

      ❝ then speed it up, jock! ❞ eddie shouted from the side of his mouth with a blistering smirk, ❝ if daphne and velma find scooby-doofus first, we’re never gonna hear the end of it. ❞ the longer the comparison sat, the more uncanny it became. give fred dark hair and shaggy a battle vest —

      sneakers squelching across a saturated path suddenly sunk even deeper into a camouflaged mire. eddie yelped as he attempted to clear the rest of the unexpected obstacle only to land in in a deeper pit of mud. shoes yellowed by wear now a glistening black that reached half up his pant legs. the metalhead hissed as he scraped off congealed clots on a nearby stalk.

      ❝ jesus christ, fucking bullshit — HENDERSON ! goddamnit, man, you’re hobbit stew when i find you! ❞

      a handful of seconds and curses more were spent knocking loose what dirt eddie could before he resigned himself to the mocking march of soggy steps. hands shoved in denim pockets, shoulders hunched up to his ears, eddie loped forward until he arrived at a split in the maze. in an exaggerated bow, he peered down both corridors and found both options pitch black and unappealing.

      ❝ you know, this is prime time for the killer to reveal himself. ❞ a voice low and theatrical spoke to the shadows behind where the young munson expected steve to be, ❝ crystal lake got jason voorhees, hawkins got carver. elm street had freddy, we got vecna. michael myers stalked haddonfield, and we’re gonna get some asshole in a nixon mask stabbing the shit out of us. ❞

[thebibliosphere]

if you have the time and capacity I would greatly appreciate some chronic health advice! I'm also someone who deals with the clusterfuck of problems that is MCAS (and POTS and EDS and immune deficiency...) and I'm wondering what drew you to an organic diet to treat MCAS? its really hard for me to find reliable information on if and why it works, but I've seen several mentions within the MCAS community about it.

I've been Struggling to keep my MCAS symptoms in check, and they keep escalating (severe asthma flares, burning in my mouth while consuming things, and bleeding sores suddenly appearing in my mouth and taking forever to heal, along with all the typical MCAS symptoms just short of anaphylaxis) so at this point I'm willing to try anything that might help 😭 I do have an allergy/immunology doctor, but a lot of their focus lately has been trying to treat my immune deficiency, so I haven't gotten much info on how to handle this. any advice or info you can point me towards would be greatly appreciated.

So, I was prescribed an all organic diet by my allergist before we new I had MCAS because during a bout of testing to try and figure out what the hell was going on, I had two different skin reactions to corn. One was organic corn, and my body was completely fine. The other was regular corn and my body broke out in hives. I wasn’t told which was which, or even what they were testing, in order to prevent any possible psycho symptomatic reactions. My then allergist, who I honestly miss cause he was way more competent and 💯% less of an ass than the one I have now, looked at that, looked at all my other problems and went “well that’s weird”, and summarily prescribed me an all organic diet to see if it would help.

It did, and it was concluded that my body was reacting to the minute trace amounts of synthetic pesticide (probably glysophate) found in non-organic foods. I emphasize synthetic, because organic foods still use organic pesticides, which are also not that great for the environment or people due to lack of FDA regulation, but when your choices are death now or potential cancer in 40 years, you take what you can get. He also hypothesized that because I grew up in the UK/Europe where pesticide use in general is more heavily regulated, as are preservatives, that that was also what was making me ill.

Some five years later and we fast forward to now, and we do indeed know that pesticides and preservatives can be mast cell disorder triggers. Even more natural ways of preserving foods (like fermenting) can be a mast cell dysfunction trigger due to histamine intolerance. The more you know 🌈 ⭐️

Which is also something to consider. Not everyone with MCAS has histamine intolerance, just like how not everyone with HIT has MCAS, but the two often go hand in hand. If you haven’t tried a low histamine elimination diet, it might be worthwhile to see if it helps. I do urge caution though, as a low histamine diet is extremely dangerous long term due to lack of nutrients, and it should ideally be done under the guidance of a doctor for no more than 4 weeks. I was left on a low histamine diet for almost two years by a negligent doctor, and almost starved to death. Also with things like MCAS and HIT the goal is to gradually build your list of tolerated foods back up, not to keep eliminating them, as that is the only way to heal. You need to get your body to a good baseline for healing, then try to get as much nutrients back into your diet as possible. And before anyone jumps in to recommend feeding tubes as they’ve done in the past: feeding tubes should be an absolute last resort when all other options have been exhausted. They are also no guarantee against anaphylaxis and have other complications that can be fatal, so it is imperative to try and avoid them at all costs.

With an HIT diet and competent medical supervision, I’ve gone from being able to eat 2 things to 21 in the last year. Still not a huge amount, but it’s huge progress for me, considering my body was reacting to tap water at one point. Still does sometimes, so I recommend looking into filters that remove trace amounts of chlorine from the water, for both drinking and bathing. You can get shower filters that attach to the head for like $30 and it can help with skin reactions/eczema like symptoms. I do not recommend full house systems that filter via the pipes, as the treatments used in water are actually essential for preventing things like pipe corosion or mold build up, but filtering from the faucets/shower heads is a good idea.

Which brings me onto things like skin products and household items. With MCAS, there can be any number of things that trigger us that in turn make our bodies primed to react to everything and anything we put into it. A lot of household cleaners, especially scented things, are mast cell dysfunction triggers. Tide washing detergent, for example, absolutely murders my throat if I breathe the scent in. We had friends come to stay recently to help with our basement demolition, and the smell of their laundry detergent made my throat swell and my eyes burn. It also helped me realize that yeah, actually, switching to all free and clear products for all of our household needs has Substantially reduced my overall reactions, including to foods. I now avoid anything scented, yes including essential oils, because essential oils can be triggers for anyone, not just folks with mast cell issues. Natural doesn’t mean safe. Nor does it mean shit to MCAS where some people can eat potato chips just fine, but can’t eat healthier things like fruit or veg because our mast cells have gone wonky and mistake certain proteins for allergies, whether we have a true IgE allergy or not.

Unfortunately, this does mean we end up incredibly deficient in many vitamins and nutrients, and supplements are necessary for our survival and recovery. Re: the mouth sores and bleeding, if no one has tested your b12 levels along with a homocysteine test, get that done asap. I had mouth sores for up to six months before we found out I had severe pernicious anemia and was on the verge of death. Low folate and low iron can also cause tongue/mouth burning, and those things go hand in hand with b12 deficiency. (And most foods that are high in b12 are often off-limits to people with HIT/MCAS. EDS also means we don’t absorb them as well from the gut, so it’s a good thing to check regardless) if it's not that, try looking at things like your toothpaste/mouthwash. Try avoiding toothpaste with SLS in them; see if that helps. Sensodyne is a good brand that makes an effort to avoid SLS but double-check the ingredients. I can't use any mouthwashes, so I make a point of doing salt water rinses when I remember. Some people also use oil pulling as an alternative to conventional mouthwash.

Unfortunately, MCAS is one size fits no one disorder, so the only way to get a handle on it is to find out what works for you. It makes things very overwhelming, but I hope some of the above is helpful and proves useful to you. Best of luck, and if you've got any more questions hmu, I'll try to help where I can 💖

[nightsong]

Survivor’s Guilt

Chapter 3: Survivor's Guilt

Notes: Shift in POV

Dahl weaved in and around various traders and vendors as the morning shops began their waking dance. One woman called to her detailing the great advantages of her cryo beanies. Multicolors hats of various sizes and knits already cascading over black waffle crates. Dahl begrudgingly let the woman lead her to one of the crates where she fingered a blue knit, its black sequined gems sending rainbows flickering over her skin. The knit was soft, lush even. 

“Pretty no? 30 cred.”

“No thanks,” she said pushing past the vendor, her stomach growling at the delicious smells coming two doors down. Two brightly clad children darted past her as she entered the tavern. Johns sat nursing a steaming tea cup. He looked tired, eyes red, hair still wet from showering. 

“Hey Boss.” Johns smiled when Dahl slid into the adjacent chair.

“You and your girlfriend have a good night?” Johns said his tea cup clinked against his plate. He resumed scooping his mash potatoes, meat, and corn into a combobulated pile. This place offered real dishes and silverware for extra cred. Apparently Johns felt the need to use such extravagances this morning. She lifted her hand waving for service.

“She’s not my girlfriend, Boss.” Dahl responded. A petite mouse of a girl scampered up to the table. Dahl ordered the prime ribs and potatoes with a cold beer on normal metal slabs, no fancy ware for her. 

Johns chewed thoughtfully, “Nah you’re right. Kind of expect a contract on her one of these days. Sooner than later with how she’s going.”

The barmaid brought the beer in a frosted tankard. 

“Nah she’s too deep in that bottle to come up for air.” Dahl drank deeply. She thought back to their evening, a smile creeped across her face. Something nagged in her hind brain, there was a moment she had seen a very different Rhreas. She looked into Rhreas once after watching her fight a guild agent once. She just couldn’t remember what happened after the first blow or the outcome of the search, only there was nothing. As an unaffiliated weapons specialist there should have been at least some type of background or licensure history. Trouble followed those who tried to strike out on their own apart from the guilds, but Rhreas sauntered through life oddly spotless and unencumbered by those deadly politics. 

“What are you humming?”

Dahl blinked. When had she started humming? She shrugged, “Not sure. Luna’s at her shop by now, ya?”

John nodded. His fork clanked against the empty plate. “Should be back any minute now especially with how efficient Rhreas is. Probably should have a return appointment sometime next week. We can swing to Polaris and pick up the mail before returning for Luna’s kit.”

Dahl stared into her tankard mutely. “Mmm. Ever heard of a planet called Furya?”

John shook his head, “Not that I remember. No. Any reason to?”

“No. Just something Rhreas told me last night. I wonder if the death bringers she told me about had any relation to those Necromongers that wiped out Helion Prime.” 

Johns sucked a piece of meat from his teeth. “How do you mean?”

Dahl leaned back and took another draw of her beer as the maid set her food on the table. The meat dripped juices and butter into a lake of potatoes and gravy. 

“Her planet was destroyed by the death bringers, as she called them. It just struck me as odd since we’ve been hearing quite a few testimonies from people who say they are refugees of the Helion system.” 

John closed his eyes, “If true, that explains a lot why she is the way she is. Poor kid.”

Dahl nodded before delving into her breakfast. 

“I’m back, Boss.”

“Luna, good hurry up and order we need to be out of here at 0930.”

“Oh ok.”

“Did you get everything set up? When does she want you back to pick up your kit?” 

“She doesn’t. I walked in and everything was laid out on the counter with my name on it. See?” Luna produced a bag with a rifle and armor kit and a crumpled note.

Dahl took the note, read it, then handed it to Boss Johns.

Pay me when I see you. - R 

Johns turned the note over but the moonshit wrapper held no further message. 

Luna pulled out his bracers. The first one laced up easy enough but the second one proved a bit more difficult. Johns stood and stretched. Cement, stone and wood fragments shattered behind him throwing him forward, over the table, and onto Dahl. Luna was knocked sideways as a vendor's cart blasted through the window. Prayer tumbled out of Luna’s mouth in frantic starts. Shattered wood and dust sluffing off as he crawled toward Johns and Dahl.

“What is God’s name happened?” Luna exclaimed. Dust clouded the air leaving the residents and patrons coughing and stumbling around in the hopes to find breathable air and the cause of the explosion. 

“Not sure but let’s go find out. Could be a reward posting as we speak.”

“I’ll check the news board.” Dahl opened her communicator. Dust clung to everything.

Johns leapt over the crumpled door and dodged the throng of people rushing directionless in the street as he led the group outside. 

“Was there another explosion?” Luna asked. Black smoke poured into the sky not fifty feet down the street. 

“Johns, its Rhreas shop,”  Dahl shoved a pedestrian as he fell into her. He yelped when she tossed him farther down the street and into a bush.

“I was just there,” Luna said paling.

“That shouldn’t have affected the tavern.” Dahl said wiping her hands off on her pant legs.“You sure Rhreas wasn't at her shop?”

“Yeah, the shop looked completely empty except for my stuff.” Luna looked embarrassed and ashamed. “I checked all the doors when no one came. I called for someone over and over. No one came…I didn’t mean to be nosy or anything.”

Johns nodded slowly. Dahl settled her rifle between her palms.  “Relax Luna and suit up.”

Luna swallowed nervously, “My bag is back inside.”

Dahl snarled and stalked back to the tavern. Luna found his bag under the crushed cart. He quickly slung the chest plate on and ran to join the remainder of his new crew crouched over the cart remains.

“Look here,” Johns pointed to a scorch mark on the cart. 

Dahl huffed, “They did a poor job of trying to kill us.”

“Unless that wasn’t their target,” Luna said. “That cart and the building happened at the same time, don't you think?” 

“Hard to say, but it might be safe to assume so. Let’s not stick around to find out. We have a job to do.”

John turned and led the way back to the ship, authorities already pouring into the alleyway rounding up “suspects”.

Dahl leaned into her chair, closing the cryosleep loop and settling in for the long haul. The liquid, cold and blue, filtering into her veins. The edges of her vision faded until she felt fingers brush down her check. Something soft slipped over her head. Her eyes blinked slowly, the cryosleep slowing her heart rate and raising her thermal temperature to deep sleep status. A blurred face grinning, eyes shining, shimmered into view before Dahl faded into the nothingness of cryosleep.

“Easy does it Skippy. Don’t want to be so violent so early after waking up. Struggling will be a complete waste of time. Although Dahl is correct, duck tape is a sexy look.”

Angry muffles and the jiggle of metal on metal grated on Dahl’s nerves. 

“Now, now, Johns don’t look at me like that. I practically hired you with that relatively large sum of money you still owe me.”

More angry muffles. Dahl blinked to see Rhreas leaning over Boss, who sat chained to the copilot seat.

“Aren't you precious? Now stop trying to chew through the tape. That never works, especially with how blunt your cute nibbins are.”

Ripping tape, skin, and a pained half-scream of Johns finally brought the edges back into Dahl’s vision. Rhreas flicked the tape piece off her fingers repeatedly. Finally she slapped it against the pilot's chair before sinking into the chair. She wiggled to the edge of the seat to stare down at Johns, whose face held a large angry square wrapping from ear to ear and a scowl. Rhreas twirled a thin curved blade lazily, before her eyes captured Dahl’s slitted eyes. 

“Dahl, you look so happy to see me and Luna too. Good everyone is awake and kicking. Which means we can FINALLY begin.” She whirled around, typed a destination into the console, and spun back around the image of Helion Prime appearing in the halo.

“Johns? Dahl?” Luna groggily asked his head lolling between the adults that should have been in charge. Dahl tried to lift her hands only to realize she too had been chained to her seat.

“You blew up your shop?” Dahl stated her words slightly slurred.

“Yes, can you guess why?” Rhreas asked rubbing the top of Dahl’s head. Dahl felt soft fabric wipe against her forehead. Tiny rainbows flicked across Rhreas face briefly as the ship pasted the system’s star. Rhreas turned and shut the blast shield. The auxiliary lights flickered on, throwing the top deck into twilight. 

“Rhreas!” Johns growled. 

“Johns,” she purred. “You did say to find a way to manage my grief better?”

“How is this managing?”

Her grin twitched, “Oh that’s why I hired you. Your crew is one of the best hunters in the business and I put out a contract, which oddly enough YOU accepted. Thank you!”

Rhreas clicked a few more buttons on the console, popping up another window showing the bounty contract with Johns signature.

“Boss?” 

“I never signed that!” He said glancing incredulously at the bounty screen.

“Oh I know that. You know that, but the guild doesn’t. In fact there is no way they will ever refute that you didn’t accept the bounty I hired you for. Even the ship’s computers recorded you accepting that particular bounty. Wanna see?” 

The recording lit up showing Johns sitting at the front console speaking with the guild contract agent. He listened to himself accept and joke with the agent in the manner he always did. The words were his, the mannerisms were his, but he wasn’t in control. He could see it. He could see her standing casually in the background with a crooked smile and direct eye contact with the camera lens. She even winked playfully at him through the image.

“Rhreas!” he hissed bewildered, terror tingled up his spine. The back of his neck itched, ready for a fight that would never come, could never come. 

Rhreas slid over to Dahl, leaned in and in Johns’s exact voice she whispered, “I don’t just sing love.”

Dahl’s eyes widened as Rhreas pulled away. Her eyes slid to Johns, his face steeled, unreadable except for the deepening crows feet lines.

“Now then, we get under way. This will be exciting.” 

“Rhreas you will regret this.”

 “I doubt you even know what regret is Johns.” Rhreas’s playful tone darkened hinting at the danger of refusing cooperation. He heard Rhreas’s breathing change tempo.

“Please god,” Luna whispered.

“Oh come on, this is just a little hunting trip. You are getting paid, and quite a lot to be honest. I just tied you up because I wanted to drive for a bit. I’m a wee bit rusty. It’s been a few decades.” 

“Are you drunk?!” Dahl snarled twisting in her chair. Johns silently shook his head at her.

“Not right now. No. I think you were right. My drinking was becoming a problem,” Rhreas bounced in the pilot’s seat before buckling the harness up. “We will be running dark until we get to Helion Prime. After that I expect you to pull your weight for what you’ve been hired for. If you don’t, I will jettison your asses.” 

“Who are we hunting?” Johns asked tightly. Dahl slipped a pick out of her belt.

“Planet killers. Death bringers. We are hunting the Necromongers that murdered my family and my people, even id I have to hunt them to the gates of their Threshold.”

[talesofafangirlwithadvr]

October/November Picks

Long time no see! So...it’s been a little bit since I’ve posted a wrap up. I had all intentions of posting one after October, but then you know life gets ahead of you and before you know it it’s Thanksgiving. Not much has changed in my viewing habits for these past two months, so I thought I’d group them together for a mega wrap up. Hope you enjoy :)

Without further ado here come some spoilers.....

…..

….

SECRET SOCIETY OF SECOND BORN ROYALS

This Disney + original movie was one of my highly anticipated watches for the fall. I am disappointed to share that it was a let down. The concept was such a cool and creative one. Having the second born in a royal family not simply be the “spare” but be the protector...with superpowers! (In a very YA way, getting their powers at a specific age.) They just should have gone about the story in a better way. I wanted more time with them learning about the powers and to make the villain stronger. Overall the acting wasn’t bad (which is good for a Disney + original), but it was just lacking. The movie was LONG and yet much did not feel like it happened. It was cool seeing Casa Loma (the castle they filmed at) as I was just there two summers ago. Sadly, I will not be watching this movie again.  

VIOLETTA SEASON 3

We all already know how pumped I was when season 3 of Violetta was released on Disney Plus in September. I couldn’t believe it after waiting so long for the second season. I really enjoyed the beginning of this season and knew we would be headed down a road where I would grow tired of the storylines. 

We have hit that point. 

Quick Violetta rant. Things I am done with:

Roxy and Fausta plot

Fran and Diego being a secret

Herman and Priscilla

Pablo not at the studio

Milton being evil

Ludmilla lying

Recently, my sister is catching up to where I am in the season, so this has pushed me to watch more. I am on episode 43 and some of the above venting has been solved, so that is super exciting. I am finding myself wanting to watch it more now, so fingers crossed it continues to get better. 

JULIE AND THE PHANTOMS

Kenny Ortega has done it again! When I first heard the premise for this show and watched the trailer on Netflix I wasn’t too sure. Then both of my sisters watched it and they wouldn’t stop talking about it, so that was a sign that I needed to watch it. Since then, I have watched the show twice and can’t stop listening to the music. THIS. SHOW. :) I get the hype. It’s just so wholesome and feel good. The characters are well crafted and the episodes go way too fast. They are the kind of characters (and cast) that make you wish you were a part of the show. I can’t wait for the next season (because there better be one). Definitely add this one to your list if it’s not on their already. 

THE OUTPOST

The Summer CW shows were pushed to the fall line up due to delays in filming of the originally planned shows. I hope this means that they’re getting a little more love this year. The Outpost deserves it, as it is currently in its third season. (I think it might have gotten a little more now that the 100 is over and the commercial aired during the 100′s last season. Maybe people heard Black-blood and decided to give it a go.) This season has seen a new threat and during the first eight episodes there’s been MANY twists and turns, making it hard for me to remember how this season started. There’s been a lot of unrest in the Outpost and changes in who is in charge. While there are some unnecessary plot-lines (like that Tobin had to be married), I’m really enjoying others. Like how important Janzo is, his relationship with Ren, more Munt and that TALON AND GARRETT FINALLY GOT TOGETHER!!! It makes me so happy and is what we deserve after these three seasons. I love how strong both of their characters are and how they are both Warriors. I hope the season ends strong. 

PANDORA

Just like The Outpost, Pandora was originally a Summer CW show that is now airing its second season. I really enjoyed the first season (like more than I was expecting), so I went in with higher hopes for this new season. Unfortunately, I have been let down so far. With the first season, there were parts that left me confused and my biggest review of this show has always been how there were gaps or moments where I didn’t know how much time had gone by. Those kind of things I could overlook, but this season the overall plot just seems weaker. I think this in part because of so many new characters. I know a lot of the season 1 cast ended their characters’ plots away from the Academy, but I wasn’t expecting them not to be a part of this season’s story. That has been a difficult adjustment. I also feel like I only understand Jax’s story and not so much about the other government/rebellion points. It’s getting a little better, but I hope it gets to be more enjoyable. 

THE SPANISH PRINCESS--SEASON 2

When I originally was creating this list I had just started this season, and felt completely different than I do right now. I just finished this season last week. Much like my above review on Pandora, The Spanish Princess wasn’t sucking me in. I had a few episodes gather on the DVR. Then once we hit episode 3 or 4 and more drama was starting/Henry was starting to show glimpses of the Henry VIII we all know, I was growing more interested. In season 2 of the Spanish Princess, we do not see a loving Catherine and Henry for long. Problems Catherine have in conceiving a boy (male heir) are one of the main focal points, as is Woolsey’s growing influence on the king. With several sub-plots this season, I specifically enjoyed learning more about Meg in Scotland (as a big Mary Queen of Scots/Reign fan, I liked seeing a portrayal of her grandmother) as well as Princess Mary Tudor (who I was unfamiliar with. I loved her and Charlie Brandon’s relationship and wish we could have gotten more.) Each week I watched this show, I found myself Googling a lot. That is always one of my favorite parts of watching a historical drama based on true events. I know right now it looks like the producers aren’t continuing with the Tudor line and might have a different part of history as their next show, but I wish they would. I’m feeling the call to watch the Tudors as it’s on Netflix and I haven’t seen it before. I want to learn more about his wives. 

BLOWN AWAY

In a complete shift from a period piece, here is another Netflix show I thoroughly enjoyed watching last month. Do you find the act of glass blowing to be extremely interesting, but you would never dream of trying yourself? Or do you like competition game shows that are not like anything else you’ve watched before? Then Blown Away might be for you! It’s a very fast watch with only a handful of episodes that are about a half hour a piece. (I honestly wished they were a bit longer because it was SO GOOD!) Each contestant is a glass blower and they get to show off their skills by competing in a specific challenge. Each episode you see someone get eliminated until the final where the winner gets a residency at Corning Museum of Glass in upstate New York. This show came out in 2019 and I am hoping a second season comes out.   

LIFE IN PIECES

This CBS comedy was one that I remember loving when it first came out. But I only remember watching the first season because then I couldn’t remember which day it was on. (It’s going to sound weird, but because I don’t watch a lot on this network I often forget it exists. We also only had a one room DVR at the time, so we couldn’t tape more than 2 things. Oh, the joys of multi-room DVR). After I finished my re-watch of Derry Girls in September, I was looking for another sitcom to re-watch. This was when I stumbled on the full series of Life in Pieces on Amazon video. (It’s free to watch with Prime.) I was so surprised to see there were 4 seasons! Since then I have been watching a good amount of episodes when I sit down to watch it. Now I’m about mid way in the second season. I highly recommend this show if you haven’t seen it before. It gives vibes of Modern Family. Very short episodes that include four storylines. The format is one that I haven’t seen done before in a sitcom.

SUPERMARKET SWEEP

The revival of the beloved game show from the early 90s is now hosted by Leslie Johns and is the best thing you should be watching on Sunday nights. If you know your grocery shopping list like the back of your hand then you are all set for this show. Leslie Johns is hilarious as are the cast of characters that are regulars in her supermarket. I think it would be a great TV show to be on and I’m not just saying that because I want one of the sweatshirts (although that would be great). If you want (another) feel-good watch, look no further! You catch up on demand. 

RE-WATCHING

ANNE WITH AN E

It’s hard to believe that we only got the third season of Anne with an E at the beginning of this year (as this year feels like its been going on forever and when I watched the third season I was in a much less stressed place). Currently, I am teaching a class involving Little Women and Anne of Green Gables. The main focus is on how these stories get adapted in recent times and include such modern plots (and sub-plots). Naturally Anne with an E is perfect for this topic (and after watching season 3 at the start of the year) was one of my major reasons for choosing this topic. (The other being Greta Gerwig’s latest Little Women.) As I’ve been planning my schedule, I’ve re-watched this show. There is something so great about watching it from season 1 all the way through to season 3. You get to watch them grow up and it’s crazy to see how young they first were. Comparing it more to the novel has been a fun time, but also analyzing it more has been great and made me appreciate it even more. With all the stress of our current situation watching this show has made me escape and feel good. (Yes, I know I’ve used that word a lot in this wrap up, but it’s true.)

***

******

Hopefully my next wrap up isn’t as delayed. Wishing everyone a happy holiday season! 

[browncoatparadox]

Day 2- Past/Future

Sally could hear laughter through the door as she walked up to the cabin. Shifting her bag of groceries to her opposite arm, she knocked. “Sally Prime, checking in,” she said.

Inside, someone stood up and cracked the door open slightly. “What’s the password?” said the person on the other side.

She sighed. “Petra, it’s me. You know it’s me.”

“How do I know you’re not an evil clone of the real Dr. Grissom?” Petra said through the door, a teasing tone in her voice.

“Because the evil clone is inside, let me in!” She drove her shoulder into the door, realizing too late that Petra had prepared for that and unlatched it. Sally fell through and landed on a suspiciously conveniently placed pillow.

She groaned, picking herself up off the ground. After a few moments, it turned out to be more literal than expected when their other housemate arrived to help her.

Sally (or Virginia, or Dr. Grissom, or evil clone, or whatever other distinguishing nicknames the three of them had come up with over the years) pulled Sally to her feet and started to pick up the groceries. “You didn’t have any eggs in here, right?”

“Nope. I’ve got corn chips, Cheez-its, the stuff to make that bean dip we like, and-“ she rummaged through the bag for a moment, “I had gotten these to share, but now I think they’re mine.” She triumphantly held up a box of Pop Tarts.

Sally startled as she stared at her younger double. “Wait, have we finally reached the point where they’re making frosted Pop Tarts?” Sally nodded smugly as she held the box over her head and waved it. “No fair, I helped you!” Sally cried out, reaching for the pastries as Sally leaned back and extended her arms. “Petra was the one who wanted to mess with you!”

“And you were the one who was prepared enough for it to make a landing spot!”

As they grappled over the sweets, Petra slunk behind them with the grace of someone who had been trained in spycraft since early childhood and snatched the box. She took off towards the living room as the Sallys stopped to exchange a look. They didn’t say anything, but knew that they were thinking of the same plan. They split up, Sally following Petra’s trail and Sally going out the front door and towards the back porch.

The look on Petra’s face as she “So this is what those Soviet agents felt like when they fought me,” she said, reluctantly surrendering her prize. She was quickly pinned between the two other women and marched into the kitchen.

It had taken them time to find their peace. Even after almost twenty years, it still surprised Sally every time she turned around to see herself, clearly the same person but older, the weight of a million abandoned timelines weighing on her back. Sally and Petra had references that no one else understood, not even Sally. She knew by now that there were certain names to keep an ear open for, people that meant practically nothing to her but that made her future self choke up when they were mentioned. She still remembered when Sally had almost crashed the car after hearing a song by one Helen Partridge come on the radio.

They were all missing things, all had time stolen from them. But they had built something new in its place.

Sally took the second box of Pop Tarts she had bought and tucked it in the back of a cabinet while the other two were turned away. She looked back at them and smiled. They were shoving each other good-naturedly, competing for the pastries that had just come out of the toaster. It was a far cry from the tension they had after fishing her out from the cold waters of Philadelphia. She smiled. Maybe it wasn’t how she had planned her life to go, but she had something good here.

[libidomechanica]

“And feel her goodness, and take my sleep”

In clearer one must as you can make me with, dim-descried. You wish to live in battle: when laughed: No, sure, four difference beat once from bonds so sweet. At thou hast but then idly soul on its play’d me againe his fyrye face that might color is in the emblems of corn bows all her word to a things one! Lash of gamester, captains slope in this wonted weeds, and birds rejoice is past. And feel her goodness, and take my sleep. May find what she roses, and remember when and stroll’d into flight. There we parts pain! The actual is prime, perhaps from a bluff the earth, and of her better to thee mid the quick.

[southeastasianists]

When Filipe da Costa started to learn about the health of his nation, he was confused.

By most measures, Timor-Leste was falling into the “red zone” - whether in terms of child stunting, malnutrition or brain cognition. And it was all linked to the food people were eating.

“I was thinking, in the past, this problem was probably not as severe. Something was different about our diets. The way our grandmothers prepared food is way different from now,” said the Advisor of Food Security and Nutrition to the Prime Minister.

A visit to any food scarce rural village - common in Timor Leste - reveals a major shift in diets. The food and cooking methods that have sustained local people for generations are being lost.

“I remember in the past, we had wild beans, wild papaya, tamarind and mangoes. But now it’s difficult to find those wild foods. Maybe the environment has changed,” said Abio Coreia, a subsistence farmer on the remote island of Atauro.

“In the past, corn and beans were foods we ate every day. Now we have rice. It’s easy to buy in the market,” he said.

As the small island nation comes to terms with a fast-changing climate, its ability to feed itself is becoming more strained.

Long dry seasons and inconsistent rain, combined with behavioural shifts that devalue traditional knowledge of food means this young country is going hungry.

But a movement is growing - among small restaurants, food labs, micro-distilleries and artisanal producers - to elevate Timor’s native cuisine and ingredients. It has a small footprint for now, but the objective is ambitious.

A 2018 IPC report by national and government partners found that only a quarter of the country’s population is food secure.

It showed that 36 per cent was chronically food insecure, defined by a long term inability to meet food consumption requirements. Some 175,000 people were suffering from a severe level of food insecurity.

[aion-rsa]

Line of Duty: the Best Crime Thrillers to Watch Next

https://ift.tt/3nJr9b3

Line of Duty is over, perhaps for good. It’s time to dismantle that evidence wall, file the exhibits away, and close the door on AC-12. With H unmasked, we can all rest our adrenal glands and get back to a healthy, Jimmy Nesbitt-free sleep pattern.

Once that’s achieved, if you start to feel the itch for more seismic shocks and sleights-of-hand, here are a few suggestions of what to watch next – eight TV thrillers that provide similar doses of double-dealing, truth-concealing, witness-squealing, case-breaking shenanigans. Add your own recommendations below!  

Bodyguard

Bodyguard proved that there was life after the Red Wedding for Richard Madden. His performance as  David Budd, a former combat soldier living a new – and equally dangerous – life as a Principal Protection Officer (PPO) in the London Met deservedly netted him a Golden Globe and a Scottish Bafta award.

Budd’s job protecting the abrasive yet vulnerable British Home Secretary Julia Montague (Keeley Hawes) is complicated by their conflicting ideologies, Budd’s fractured home-life and PTSD, and a wide-ranging conspiracy that brings together Islamic terrorism, organised crime, intra-governmental malfeasance and dodgy cops.  Be prepared to watch from behind half-closed eyes, wincing in anticipation of the oblivion that’s promised around almost every corner.

Bodyguard has the kinetic ferocity and explosive twists of 24; the grim and gritty characterisation of a Jimmy McGovern project; and the ‘Oh my God it was them along… or was it?’ twists of Line of Duty, which follows as it was also created by Jed Mercurio and World Productions.

Watch on: Netflix UK

The Americans

What if you were so deeply embedded with your enemies that you were indistinguishable from them, both inside and out, and even started to become increasingly disillusioned about what side you were supposed to be on? That’s the central conceit of FX’s slick and superlative spy drama The Americans, set in Washington DC during the height of the Cold War. Russian operatives Philip and Elizabeth Jennings have fake pasts and fake identities, but they also have very real American teenage children, who have been raised oblivious to the devastating secret thumping Poe-like in their parents’  hearts. Other shows trading in similar tropes may well deal in deception and corruption, but the cross that the Jennings have to bear in the name of ideology makes even the biggest conspiracies in Line of Duty and Bodyguard seem like a fib told by a child to avoid punishment for stealing freshly-baked muffins from their mother’s windowsill.

The heat on the Jennings is turned up even further when an FBI agent tasked with uncovering Russian agents moves next door with his family; further still when the two families become friends, further blurring the lines between truth, lies, identity and loyalty.

Whom do you trust when you can’t even trust yourself? 

Watch it on: Amazon Prime Video UK (available to purchase)

Edge of Darkness (1985)

Edge of Darkness is steeped in the same Thatcher-tainted, Reagan-ruled, greed-is-good, hyper-capitalist era as The Americans, but is a contemporaneous piece rather than a period piece, having debuted in 1985. 

The tragic tale follows tortured policeman Ronald Craven (Bob Peck) as he tries to unravel the truth behind his eco-activist daughter’s murder, while he himself starts to unravel in a sea of lies, half-truths, hard truths and shifting allegiances. Craven snakes his way through a colourful cast of misfits, agitators, loudmouths, snobs, yobs and psychopaths, as the battle for power – nuclear, economic, hegemonic – and perhaps the survival of the earth itself, swirls and dances and ricochets around him.

It’s a series that’s unafraid to immerse the viewer in complexity; leaving them to fathom the ever-morphing labyrinth of motivations and revelations on their own; leaning heavily into ambiguity whenever it serves the shape and tone of the story. Often, the viewer is left as bemused and perplexed as Craven himself in the face of this deadly puzzle, but they will still find themselves – also like Craven – unable and unwilling to rest until the pieces fit together.          

The late Bob Peck – whom many will only know as the game keeper from Jurassic Park, who utters his memorable final line, ‘Clever girl…’, seconds before becoming a velociraptor hors d’oeuvre – puts in a mesmerising, career-defining performance as Craven, effortlessly embodying the full gamut of the man’s grief, guilt, obsession, melancholy and mania. Craven seems at once mythical and otherworldly, and yet solidly, painfully, exquisitely human.

Watch on: Amazon Prime Video UK (available to purchase)

The Shield

“Good cop and bad cop left for the day. I’m a different kind of cop.”

So says LA Detective Vic Mackey (Michael Chiklis) seconds before demonstrating his no-holds-barred interrogation technique to an obfuscating paedophile. It’s not that Vic considers himself above the law, more that everybody else is below his. He often does the right things for the wrong reasons, or in the wrong way, or the wrong things for the right reasons. Or at least for reasons that he thinks are right. And he’s got a justification for everything, from bribing fellow officers, to partnering with organised criminals, to even murdering suspects.

Impossibly corrupt, relentlessly self-righteous, fearless to the point of psychopathy, Vic is the badge-wearing heir apparent to Tony Soprano, but burdened with little of the gabagool-guzzler’s guilt. Viewers are left under no illusions about the lengths Vic will go to protect himself and his kingdom, nor about the sort of show they’re watching, when at the close of the first episode he executes an officer who has been placed in his Strike Team to investigate his corruption, framing a similarly deceased drug kingpin for the crime.

So begins the toxic, spreading rot of secrets, lies and double-dealings, each action an effort to cover over and stay a step ahead of the misdeed before. Vic’s three-man Strike Team would follow him into Hell, which is just as well, because that’s exactly where he leads them, along with his family, and anyone who ever associated with or went toe-to-toe against him. The Shield begins as a punchy, kinetic pop-corn spectacle of a series, but slowly evolves into an almost Shakespearian tragedy, rich in sadness, sacrifice and betrayal. The final act – hell, the final few seasons – will leave you in no doubt as to The Shield‘s place in the pantheon of small-screen greats.    

Watch on: All4 (UK)

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Dexter

If Internal Affairs set up an office in the Miami Metro Police Department, the last person they’d suspect of foul play would be the handsome, unfailingly polite blood-spatter analyst Dexter Morgan, doyen of the Homicide bowling team and daily bringer of doughnuts. Whereas Vic Mackey flaunts his corruption in plain sight, Dexter has to stay in the shadows. Dexter’s corruption is a little more extreme than Vic’s: he’s a highly active serial killer. That he only kills according to a strict ethical code – only other murderers, and only those who’d escaped, or would escape, justice by more legitimate means – makes him a complex, compassionate and compelling figure, one with whom we sympathise easily: perhaps too easily. Dexter makes us complicit by proxy. We find ourselves rooting for a serial killer, hopelessly lost in the hedge-maze of his amorality.

Dexter’s relationships with his sister, Deborah (Jennifer Carter) – a detective at his precinct – and Rita (Julie Benz) – first his girlfriend, then his wife and eventually mother of his son – are his only toe-holds on humanity, which is why the show regularly has them dancing on the edge of his dark secret. No more so than when Dexter has to help the department investigate the crimes of a serial killer the media dubs The Bay Harbor Butcher, a serial killer who just happens to be… Dexter.

While it’s true that Dexter came to a perfect natural conclusion after four great seasons, it’s also true that it limped on for another four seasons after that, capped by a finale that is quite possibly one of the weakest and worst of any drama series ever made. Thankfully, it’s coming back for a ninth season later this year, hopefully to right past wrongs.   

Watch on: NOW (UK)

Cracker

If you only know the larger-than-life Robbie Coltrane as the much-larger-than-life Hagrid in the Harry Potter series, you’d do well to check out the mid-90s UK crime-series Cracker, and see Coltrane at his most searing, endearing, dangerous and iconic. Here he plays Eddie ‘Fitz’ Fitzgerald – quite simply the role he was born to play – a sharp-witted, full-blooded, foul-mouthed, fast-living psychologist who impresses (and largely imposes) his way into a consulting gig with the Manchester Police, helping them to solve their more grizzly and unusual crimes. The storyline that sees Fitz investigating one of ‘his’ own is perhaps its most harrowing and heart-breaking – a network of tragedies dovetailing into one other – with a denouement that casts a long, sad shadow over the rest of the series.

Warning: If you are a Harry Potter fan, and you decide to watch Cracker, do take the time to psychologically prepare yourself for the sight of Hagrid in bed with Harry Potter’s mum.  

Watch on: Britbox (UK)   

Luther

Detective John Luther (Idris Elba) has the presence of a bear, the heart of a lion, and the mind of Columbo. With his razor-sharp stare, long, lived-in coat and propensity to stick his neck precisely where it’s needed but never wanted, Luther’s ‘Oh, one more thing’ is just as likely to be a fist as it is a verbal death-blow.

Over the course of five seasons Luther is betrayed by those closest to him, mangled by loss, framed for murder and even strikes up an unusual but oddly touching relationship with a serial killer. It’s electric, captivating TV, and Idris Elba wears and lives Luther’s rage, sadness, regret and fuck-you-ness so intensely that you won’t be able to draw your eyes away from him. A barnstormer all round.

Watch on: BBC iPlayer (UK)      

State of Play

The cast-list alone is enough to commend this early 2000s conspiracy thriller: John Simm, Philip Glenister (prior to the duo teaming up in Life on Mars), David Morrissey, James McAvoy, Bill Nighy, Amelia Bullmore, and Line of Duty‘s own Kelly MacDonald. Thankfully, almost everything else about this mini-series also screams excellence, especially the crackling, incisive and deeply honest writing from Clocking Off, Cracker and Shameless-stalwart Paul Abbott.

State of Play follows a group of journalists as they stumble onto the greatest story of their lives – ministerial corruption, contract killings, corporate greed, industrial espionage, illicit affairs – that pits the police, the government, and even their own friends and loved ones against them. It’s a twisting, turning, shifting, shocker of a masterpiece: a true titan of the genre. 

Watch on: Amazon Prime Video UK (available to purchase)

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Line of Duty series one to six are available to stream now on BBC iPlayer.

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