#which creates a loop where the chicks are only actually near you in the first place because they're following their mother

[proteusolm]

Fake news, I've seen people attacked* by ruffed grouse multiple times.

*they don't really have any means of harming a person

finally some real fucking news

[daydreamingfics]

When We Collide - Chapter One

Word Count:  2,535 

Chapters Released: 1 - Masterlist

Warnings: Slow Burn (this story won’t be going from 0-100. Hopefully, ya’ll won’t find it to be a complete snooze-fest. Other than that, this chapter really just introduces characters. There may be a swear word or two, but that’s it. 

Authors Note: This is the first piece that I’ve written in a very long time, and though I’m nervous about releasing it into the world... I’m also very excited to share this little story that I’ve concocted in my head. I have so many stories that I think up and never post out of fear, and I decided that it ends now. I’m also slowly getting back into second-person style writing as it’s not my favorite, so any feedback on how I can improve is much appreciated! I hope that ya’ll enjoy this story!

*This story is inspired by the song ‘When We Collide’ by Jon Foreman. I would definitely recommend giving the song a listen. Thank you so much for checking out this story! 

Ten-minutes into the trek back to Downtown Los Angeles you started seeing signs for Paradise Cove. You had never ventured out to this particular beach mainly because you never really had a reason to be in Malibu, to begin with. But after seeing numerous signs for the location, you decided that a quick pit-stop was worth making time for. Plus, after the shit show morning that you had- the last thing you were in the mood for was the hours of editing that awaited you back in the office. With the exit rapidly approaching, you looked over at your videographer, Reggie, who was operating the wheel.

“Hey Reg, do you mind dropping me off up here at Paradise Cove? I just need a minute to breathe before we attempt to salvage any useful material out of the interview footage.’

Taking a quick glance from the road over to you, Reggie let out a chuckle in understanding. Reggie was an older gentleman, most-likely early fifties, but he’d holler out that he didn’t feel a day over thirty if you were to ask him. The topic of Reggie’s age was often a running joke throughout the office, as no one but the man in question knew of his real age. He had a heart of gold and years of experience in the business. You were thrilled when the two of you had been paired-up for assignments. If there was anything that you didn’t entirely understand or if an interviewee got a little cross with you, Reggie, always had your back. Over time, the two of you had developed a sort of father-daughter type of relationship. Having grown up in a single-mother household, Reggie indeed was the closest thing you’d ever had to a father.

“Sure thing, Y/N. Need me to stick around the area to pick you back up after a while?” Reggie questioned, knocking you out of the momentary daydream that you had fallen into.

Shaking your head, you sent Reggie a small smile. “No, you can go ahead back to the office. I don’t want to keep you. I won’t be long, though, wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun editing ahead of us. I’ll just get an Uber back.” Once the shoreline came into view, you knew that you had made the right decision. It's as if the day's stress was already melting away.

”Here, take this for your ride back. And call me if you need anything.” Reggie voiced as he held out a twenty.

”Reg, I appreciate it, but I'm fine. I may not get any worthwhile assignments, but I do still get a paycheck.” you laughed.

”You know that I won't take no for an answer, Y/N, so just take it.” Reggie replied while placing the crumpled bill into your hand. ”Now go, enjoy yourself! Be safe. Don't talk to strangers! And be home before the street lights come on. It's all types of crazies out in Malibu!”

”Yes, dad. I got it. I got it! Don't worry.” you snickered dramatically as you sent Reggie a wave while exiting the vehicle.

Paradise Cove was precisely that, a picturesque beach situated just off of the Pacific Coast Highway with towering sandstone cliffs that made it feel as if you were in a whole other world. Given that it was a Tuesday afternoon, the beach was virtually vacant, which was precisely what you had desired. You needed a few moments to decompress and rid some of the clutter that had taken up residence inside of your head. Slipping out of your patent leather pumps, you relished in the warmth that surrounded your toes as you took your first steps onto the golden sand. Your hometown was a small coastal community so, naturally, you were a sea lover by heart. It saddened you that in the year and a half since moving out to California, you could count on one hand how many times you got to have a beach day. Making a mental note to work on actually having a life outside of the office, you gathered your shoes in one hand and followed the sound of the waves crashing against the shore until you were right where the land and sea meet. Tilting your head towards the infinite blue sky, you inhaled the salty air and allowed the warm breeze to cascade all around you. Nothing but the sound of the waves and the seagulls screeching as you shut your eyes and lived in the moment.

Time seemed to slow down to a crawl as you walked along the pristine shoreline. Nearly an hour had passed since Reggie dropped you off, yet you couldn't get enough. Every way you veered, your eyes discovered something new. A few more people had wandered out by this point, yet the calmness remained. You watched as children created sandcastles, and splashed to their heart's content in the majestic blue waters. Not wanting to wander too deep into the unknown, you decided to turn around and go back the way you came. It was then that your eyes landed on him. You didn't recall seeing him previously, so you figured that he couldn't have been sat there long. He looked to be about your age with grey, almost silver-hued hair that was fashioned in an odd cut. In all honesty, the style would likely look hideous on anyone else, but he pulled it off. From your view, you also happened to notice that he had a multitude of piercings adorning his ears, and some type of slit going through one eyebrow it appeared. Again, you thought of just how unflattering that would look on anyone else. Yet, here, this guy was making it work. Really making it work. You contemplated getting closer to where he sat, maybe even striking up a conversation, but what would you even say. ’Nice weather we’re having?’

Aside from that, the fact that he was alone was a good indication that he had come out here with intentions similar to your own. For peace or quite, perhaps, both. He appeared to be rooted in thought and clearly focused on what he was doing. A notebook was his primary focal point, and you watched as he scribbled word after word inside of the book. He seemed to be on a roll, and the last thing you wanted was to be some random chick disturbing his focus. So, you decided that you’d just continue to admire from afar until you passed him. No harm in just looking, right? As long as you kept it discrete and didn't give off any grade-A creeper vibes, it’d be fine. You just couldn’t shake the feeling that, for some reason, this complete stranger felt familiar to you. He had this aura about him, and you racked your brain trying to place his face but kept coming up blank. As your feet drew you closer to where he sat, you struggled to fix your eyes on something else. Anything else. But, nothing quite caught your attention like him. Deciding that you had about one more quick look left before you would appear completely stalker-ish, you glimpsed back at the boy one final time, only this time he was gazing right back with a knowing smile.

You completely stopped moving at the sight as if somehow standing still would make you invisible, but no. Red leaked into your cheeks as you nervously mirrored his captivating smile, and even braved casting a small wave in this direction, to which he thankfully returned. How embarrassing would it have been if he were looking at someone else? You mused as your mind became momentarily distracted, thinking up all types of worse case scenarios. Peering over at the boy once more, you were shocked to see that he had shifted his positioning slightly and made just enough space on the beach towel for one more. For the second time in mere minutes,  the two of you locked eyes as he motioned for you to come and join him. Were you really going to just waltz on over and sit near a man that you knew absolutely nothing about? Yes, that was precisely what you were going to do. The image of Reggie giving you his ‘don’t talk to strangers’ lecture replayed in your head on a loop as you made your way over to the boy. You cautiously sat down beside the stranger, attempting to keep as much distance in-between the two of you as possible, which proved to be no small feat considering that the beach towel was intended for one. You could feel the awkward level rising as neither of you spoke a word, just sat there staring at each other with matching smiles and curious features.

“I’m Hongjoong.” he finally voiced after a few more seconds of silence. The sound of his voice was even better than you had thought it would be. You could sense that English wasn’t his native tongue, but at that moment, you could have sworn that the boy had invented the entire English language all by himself. 

“I’m Y/N. It’s really nice to meet you, Hongjoong,” you uttered nervously. Being this close to him was making you feel all mushy inside, and it was taking every fiber in your being to keep your shit together. The last thing you wanted was to create a complete fool of yourself.

After the initial awkwardness had worn off, the conversation between the two of you flowed seamlessly. Hongjoong was so animated and passionate with his words, and you quickly found yourself hanging onto every single one. Though you hadn’t known the man for long, you had already reached one conclusion, he was magnificent. You opened up and shared parts of yourself that had been locked away for years with Hongjoong because, for some reason, you felt as if you’d known him your entire life. He assured you that the feeling was mutual as you both revealed more than you probably should have considering you’d just met. Hongjoong had even let you in on why he had chosen to spend his day off at the beach, stating that he was in search of inspiration. Though the two of you never discussed your careers, you did discover that the notebook you’d seen him writing in were lyrics that he had composed. He briefly mentioned that his reasoning for being in the US was for business, so you just assumed that he was a songwriter or something along those lines. The sound of your phone ringing interrupted your conversation with Hongjoong, and you cast an apologetic look his way as you searched your purse for the device. 

[ 1 Missed Call - Reg (Papa Bear) ]

“Wow, the time. Have we really been talking for over two hours? My co-worker probably thinks that I got swept away at sea by now.” you giggled.

The comment elicited a chorus of cackles from Hongjoong, and it was at that moment you realized just how much you adored his laugh.

“I can’t believe it either. Time goes fast when you’re in the best company!” Hongjoong proclaimed while pulling out his own device and checking the time.

“I was wondering if-” he started but then stopped just as quickly with his eyebrows furrowing slightly. You could sense that he was perhaps anxious about something, but you weren’t sure what it could be. He laughed somewhat and subtly scratched the back of his neck with one hand while outstretching his other that contained his cell phone to you. Oh, that explains the sudden rush of nervousness. You knew that you wanted to see Hongjoong again, but you didn’t want to be the one who initiated the whole number exchange, so you were more than thrilled that he went for it. With an even more full grin, you grabbed the device and handed over yours so that he could do the same. The minute your device was back in your hands, it started ringing again. You were seriously going to blast Reggie later on for cockblocking you not once, but twice. Not wanting your time with Hongjoong to come to an end you ignored the call and slipped your phone back into your purse, Reggie was going to have to wait for a little longer. When you looked back up, Hongjoong’s eyes were already fixed on you. A few moments of silence passed, but unlike the beginning of your conversation, this silence was comfortable. When your phone began blaring once again, you knew that, unfortunately, you would have to leave and rejoin the real world. Sitting along the shore with the wind in your hair conversing with the most attractive man you’d ever encountered, felt like a dream. One that you never wanted to wake up from. The look in his eyes mimicked your own, and you prayed to all the gods that this wouldn’t be the end of your story with Hongjoong. 

“That’s work that keeps calling... I was meant to be back awhile ago, but I- I honestly didn’t want this moment to end. Thank you for this Hongjoong, it’s just what I needed. I’ve enjoyed getting to know snippets about you.” you expressed. The vibrant smile that etched its way upon his features let you know that your words were well received and reciprocated.

“No, thank you. Y/N. I came here hoping for inspiration, and now I have more than I could imagine. All because of you. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to sit and talk with someone about all different things. Things that I don’t usually share.” Hongjoong cooed as he cautiously reached for your hand and lifted it up to his lips. He then proceeded to place a feather-light kiss upon the back of your hand, all while never breaking eye contact. This man was going to ruin you, and you were completely okay with that.  

“I have a hectic schedule coming up, but I will call, okay? I’ll find the time.” Hongjoong expressed while pulling you in for an embrace. You weren’t expecting the hug but welcomed it gladly as you wrapped your arms around his frame and simply just took pleasure in the final moments that you two would share until the next time. God, you hoped for the next time to come sooner rather than later. You simply nodded along as he spoke the words directly into your ear and squeezed you a little tighter as his tongue rolled over each syllable. You knew from past experiences how daft it was to put so much faith in a man, especially one that you had just met, but the words didn’t seem contrived or untrue coming from Hongjoong. He said he’d call, and you believed him. 

Even if all you and Hongjoong were meant to have was this moment, the memory of being in his arms and the incredibly unexpected yet unusual time that the two of you had shared would never leave you. 

[queeniewritesce]

Recommendations (2/2)

This is part 2 of my entry for the @mrs-captain-evans 2,5K followers Writing Challenge. 

Summary: Twitter is a strange place. But once in a while, you connect with someone.

Word count: 2,484

Warning: mild language, 35 seconds of angst, could be less if you read it fast.

The heavy double-paned door opened with a jingle and a creak, letting the cool air from late November enter the small café on Arrow Street. You didn’t bother looking up from your laptop, where you read an article about penguins instead of finishing grading yesterday’s pop quiz.

Procrastinating was your new favorite pastime since decreasing your online presence. Not that it stopped the ache you still felt every time you opened Twitter to post a new article, which was the only content you shared nowadays. Gone were the jokes geared towards your students, pictures of Captain Hook, or commenting on the everyday shenanigans of the White House and Congress.

The less you shared, the less you cared, and the only reason your profile was still up was because of your job.

You checked the time on the bottom left of the screen. Professor Kincaid’s class had been canceled and you had one hour to kill before your own class started, which prompted you to run to Bean There for a fresh pot of coffee and one huge Boston Cream doughnut.

As you read about penguins kidnapping other chicks if they own young died, you got wind of the murmurs and rushed voices going on around the room.  You tried to tune them out, young people got excited about anything but they seemed to get louder and louder with every passing moment. You located your bag seating by your feet and was looking for your headphones when a pair of black boot cladded feet stopped in front of you.

Pursuing your lips, you let the ears buds fall back inside the pocket but didn’t bother to look up. If your assumptions were correct, the owner of those boots was the cause for the raucous around you.

“Y/N…”

Yep, the voice and the boots belonged to the same person.

Tears made your eyes sting and you blinked to prevent them from falling. You minutely shook your head, not knowing exactly what you’re trying to convey; that this was not the place or that you’re not, would never be, ready to talk to him.

“Please. Can we talk?”

The hurt in his voice gave you pause. Why would Chris feel anything but pride at playing you as he did? Did he want to do a coup de grâce to your ego?

Keeping your eyes downcast, you lowered the screen of your laptop, glad you hadn’t bothered with the power strip. Shifting the electronic around you other stuff took more time than intended but after a few tries, you zippered up your bag, grabbing some money out of your wallet and dropping it on the table.

You got up and your nose pressed against the most muscular chest you ever saw. He was so well built that you could see the hard contours of his pecs through the thick cream sweater he was wearing. The smell of his cologne hit your nostrils and you almost swoon, finally looking up.

He shouldn’t be allowed the whole package, that was so unfair to you.

Deep blue eyes framed by thick eyelashes stared back at you, the lower half of his face covered in fine auburn whiskers that couldn’t be more than two weeks old at the most, looking so soft that you had to restrain yourself from reaching out and running the tips of your fingers through them.

“All I am asking is for a chance to explain myself.” Strong fingers reached for you, encasing your small hand in his as if he really wanted you to stay. You scoffed at the notion, this man really knew how to play you. Did he get off in toying with you?

Your scared eyes looked from his eyes to your clasped hands and back again, silently begging him to let you go. He mouthed a soundless no and stepped towards you, bridging the already small gap between your bodies.

Later, if someone asked you why you did it, you would blame your next course of action on the overwhelming need to escape.

“Look, everyone, it’s Chris Evans.”

Chris’s eyes widened and a different kind of hurt clouded his vision. Betrayal. He let your hand go.

Good. Maybe know he would understand exactly how you felt.

A round of applause broke out around the café and the whispers were now cheers. The discretely held cellphones now pointed straight at the man in front of you.

Move, get out. Your feet took their sweet time obeying your brain, but soon you’re grabbing your coat and your messenger bag and making a beeline to the door, not bothering with actually putting on your coat before the full brunt of Boston’s late autumn slammed into you. You powered through, running through the streets that led you to your office, not once looking back, certain Chris would not follow.

Entering the gray building that housed Media Studies and Social Analyses, you allowed yourself to slow down and take a breath. Safe.

The lights stayed off when you entered your office, the loaded mahogany bookcases and dark upholstery making the room more ominous than it truly was.

You let your bag slide to the floor near your desk, not really bothering with damaging the electronics inside.

Heavy feet carried you to the sofa under the balcony window, where you sat with unfocused eyes, mind running a mile a minute trying to understand how your life became a drama movie in just a few short months.

What was Chris doing here? You thought you made your feelings clear when you blocked him. The pain ebbed away after a few weeks, diluted to an ache that accompanied you day and night. For a fleet moment, you had entertained the idea of a relationship with Chris. Not Evans. Just Chris, the wholesome and funny guy you got to know during those four months you spent trading messages with. But that guy didn’t exist, he was just a persona, one more character created and well played by Chris Evans. Right?

There was a knock and whoever was outside didn’t wait for an answer before your door was pushed open.

Professor Travis stuck his head inside your office, a scowl on his face.

“If I hear one more student going off about the Oscar worthy drama on the media department I’ll flunk them and fire you, we’re not a telenovela. Fix whatever this is or convince him to stay away, I got your next class covered.”

He pushed Chris inside the dimly lighted room, raised his eyes brows pointedly at you and left, the door closing firmly behind him.

Silence stretched around you, uncomfortable and unnerving.

His hands stayed on his pockets, heavy coat looped around one arm while Chris took inventory of his surroundings before focusing on you, his gaze never wavering.

“Can I sit?”

You didn’t expect the croaked voice, nor the way it warped around your heart.

Two fingers pointed to the chairs on the other side of the center table. A safe distance, an actual barrier between you.

Of course, he decided to sidestep the table and sat opposite you on the love seat, his knee almost touching yours.

“What you did back there was treacherous and mean.” He faced forward, fingers drumming on his knees. “I guess I deserved it.”

“You did.”

“I never thought those would be the first words I’d hear you say direct to me.”

You cocked your head, not sure what to say to that.

“I mean, I thought about our first meeting, how you would be surprised but also happy I wasn’t a serial killer, just a dumb actor with too much free time on his hand.” He let a dark chuckle. “I never expected you to out me to a room filled with twenty-somethings years old and run away.”

What did he mean by thought about you? You admittedly had mulled over the idea more than once, wondering if you would click on the real world as much as you did online. Even created a list of topics you could revisit from your online conversation, mixed with silly questions you’d never asked him, like blueberry or chocolate chips on your pancakes? Could this man, so famous he couldn’t even walk into a coffee shop without being recognized, also be so committed to the idea of meeting you?

No matter. He still deceived you.

“I asked you once if you were catfishing me. You said no.”

Chris whole body faced you and he trained his eyes on you.

“I wasn’t. I looked up what that word means. I don’t fit any of those boxes. I’m not in it to hurt you. I never said I was someone else. I just never told you my last name.”

“Or who you actually were.”

He huffed.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. I shared with you exactly who I was. Am. My opinions, my true likes and dislikes. I didn’t sugarcoat it or played dumb, I didn’t hide behind a forced laughed or a sound bite. You got Chris, the whole unadulterated version.” His expression hardened. “It’s not easy to open up like that when people expect you to be a certain way, act another way. Since you teach about expectations and the effects mass media has on other people, I believed you’d understand why I had to hide behind a pseudonym.”

It was not the first time you wondered what was like on the other side of the fishing lenses celebrities were under. You taught the basics of how media twisted and organized exactly how the public perceived being famous, asking your students to always remember no matter how famous someone was, there were first and foremost a human being.

“I understand why you did it, that doesn’t change the fact that you lied to me.”

“I never lied to you.” Chris rebuffed.

“You told me you were a flight attendant and you worked for Delta.”

“No, I didn’t. You assumed all that, I just never corrected you.”

“I…”

He was right.

You remembered all the times he changed the subject when you discussed his work and you honestly believed he was embarrassed about his job. You never asked what he did, or what he was doing in Atlanta for so long.

You felt the hot flashes of embarrassment creeping up your face and you hung your head low. Were you really so obtuse?

“I’m sorry.” A staggered breath left you. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask and assumed.”

“I have my own share of the guilty Y/N. I wanted to tell you, I wrote hundreds of messages but I could never send them. I was terrified you wouldn’t believe me before I could send you proof. And then I told you my name and it got comfortable, I wasn’t lying, just leaving out some stuff.”

“A lie of omission is still a lie in my book.” The serious tone of your voice washed over Chris and he winced.

“I got that when you blocked me.”

Once again the room was quiet save from the filtered shuffling of feet coming from the corridor.

As a true scholar, you analyzed all the information he gave you, looking for strong points and flaws on his reasoning. It all checked out. You wouldn’t have believed him. He never outright lied to you. 

There was only one question left unanswered.

“Why are you here Chris?”

His smile warmed you, made you want things that you shouldn’t. Images fleeted through your head, other times when he could smile to you like exactly like he was doing now.

“I’m here because I spent all summer and most of autumn inside a hot as hell costume, my hair dyed blonde, stuck inside a hangar filled with fake debris and green screens, and the only thing that kept me sane was that when I was on my breaks or done for the day I would open Twitter to a new message from you. I’m here because you were my island of calm while I drifted with anxiety.” Two fingers slid under your chin and he gently made you look at him. “I’m here because I like you.”

“You like me?” You repeated and he nodded. 

“I do. You’re funny, wicked smart but you don’t take yourself too seriously unless you have too. You admitted to being a nerd, which if I didn’t make myself clear during the whole Hubble debacle, so am I.” He pointed to black baseball hat he was wearing and you saw the NASA logo. “On a shallower note, you’re way, way more beautiful than all my previous teachers combined. If all professors look like you, I might even give this whole college thing a try.”

Well, wasn’t he a smooth talker. Your smile now matched his. 

“So do you like me like me or like me as in she’s okay?”

“Baby, you’re so far removed from okay, it might need a visa to visit you.”

The room filled with your laugh, your heart finally free of the hurt you carried the past few weeks.

He liked you.

“You’re not a nice guy.”

His smirk told you he knew exactly was this was going.

“I’m kind of an asshole.”

“I’m not denying that one.” He pouted and you wanted to kiss him. “So, not a nice a guy but not a complete asshole, so not a bad guy either.”

He got closer, his fingers playing with a loose tendril of your hair, the other hand fastening on your waist.

“That considerably narrows down your options, uh?”

His smile was contagious and you grinned back, shyly nuzzling his chest.

“How about you? You know, if you’re still interested.” You beamed at the man in front of you, bitting your lower lip.

“Let me show you how interested I am.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when his lips descended upon yours. He poured himself into the kiss, months of wanting you, feeling close but so far away. He fell for you during those late nights you stayed up texting, giving his heart and mind and receiving yours in return. He kissed you gently, slowly coaxing your mouth open, his tongue brushing yours.

He trailed his hands up your back to bring you closer and you shivered, settling contently against his chest, your fingers making their own journey to the back of his neck, brushing your hands on the hair there.

“How about that date?” Chris said against your mouth. “Let me take you out to dinner.”

“How about I cook for you instead? My house, 8pm?”

“I’ll be there.”

Disentangling yourself from his arms, you grabbed a notebook from your coffee table, writing down your address and handing it to Chris, kissing him on the cheek.

“Now go before Professor Travis forgets how much he likes us and I lose my job.”

You moved from the sofa, putting some space between both of you. You grab your bag, checking to see if your syllabus for the next class is still there.

“Y/N?”

“Uhm?” You’re sure he’s gonna kiss you again when he comes closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“One thing though.”

“What?”

The feel of his breath when he speaks so close to you gave you goosebumps. You’re ready, so ready to be kissed again.

“You gotta unblock me on Twitter. I only ever want one person to block me and believe me, you’re not him.”

[asgardian--angels]

Providing for Pollinators - my Syracuse Wildlife Garden

Hi everyone! Maybe you know me, I am a grad student with a B.S. in Wildlife & Conservation Biology and I study native bees. I am in New York for grad school and my landlady (I live in her personal home with one other PhD student) has agreed to let me turn part of her yard into pollinator habitat. I discussed this prospect a month ago here. On Memorial Day I got to work and finally planted everything!

I thought I would use this opportunity to share my ongoing experience and educate others about the importance and the feasibility of creating pollinator and wildlife habitat in your yard. Please, consider doing even just a little bit to help the natural world this year or in the future. Hopefully the information and resources I provide will be of use.

I will update this post throughout the season as the plants grow and bloom!

This first installment lays out the principles of habitat gardening and thus is pretty lengthy. Part 2 will talk about the plants I chose and include photos of the newly planted garden!

Wildlife habitat in the urban and suburban sphere is crucial going forward in the fight to save our planet from going belly-up. We think of ‘big ag’ as the enemies, and while that’s true, habitat destruction and fragmentation due to development has had just as large an impact, and we are all accountable. Pristine, untouched lawns, silent without birdsong or the buzzing of bees, has somehow become the ideal and a symbol of status and accomplishment (yet another way that western mindset of ‘man vs nature’ rears its ugly head). Few realize the harm that has done, and we’re at the tipping point now. But while we can’t overthrow Monsanto overnight, we can control our own little patch of earth. Reconnect the land, that’s the goal. You’ll find yourself reconnected to it too, in the process. And once you see the amount of thriving life you can support, you’ll never go back to that old turfgrass prison. Creating habitat is its own source of pride, especially knowing you will influence and inspire others to do the same. 

There are infinite ways one could construct habitat on their property. It will obviously depend on time, money, desired use of yard (do you have kids? or barbecues? leave some grass), town ordinances, etc. I could have easily ripped up every ounce of turfgrass in the yard, but it’s best to start simple, especially when it’s someone else’s land! I have about a quarter acre to work with - which doesn’t seem like a lot until you realize just how many plants you could fit in there! More so, a quarter acre of habitat where there wasn’t any before sure makes a difference to the wildlife, especially bees, who often nest only a few meters from their host plants and will only travel as far as they need to for food.

Here’s an overview of the ‘before’:

Basically, what we’ve got is a lot of turfgrass and some exotic ornamentals, with a few native trees scattered about at the boundary between the neighbor’s house. Existing plants were hydrangeas, hostas, hellebores, and vinca. I didn’t even know what vinca was (I am rather out of the loop with ornamental plants) so I looked it up, as it seemed very aggressive and had formed a dense mat over much of the ground along the borders of the property. Lo and behold, it is considered invasive in many places, yet it’s sold at pretty much every nursery. It has purple flowers that attract virtually no pollinators, and my landlady loves the darn thing so much she wants it to spread to cover the entire yard if possible. I’ve tried to steer her away from that... a big problem though, was that she did not have any idea what plants were in her yard. Apparently the landscapers did not tell her what they were planting, nor did she seek out the information herself, so I identified them all for her. Maybe it’s just me, but I could never rest not knowing what plants someone put into my ground that I’d have to live with for the next few decades. There’s a huge border of stones at the front of the house, apparently to stop flooding. Let it just be known that stones are pretty dang bad for wildlife habitat, as they do nothing but cover the ground and prevent things from growing. She wanted more stones, I steered her away from that also.

Principles of Habitat Gardening

Insects are good. Insects are what you want. Insects form the foundation of the food web for whatever animals you want to support. This means changing your mindset to see leaf damage as beneficial, something that traditional gardening has drilled into our heads as wrong and ugly. Songbirds rely on caterpillars to raise chicks, and pollinators help plants create fruit, seeds, and nuts, which countless animals rely on. Predatory insects like wasps, mantids, and many true bugs keep populations in check so no plants are ever eaten to fatal levels. 

NATIVE PLANTS. How do you attract insects? You plant the things they eat, and that certainly isn’t ornamentals from Eurasia. Insects have long co-evolutionary relationships with specific plants, attuning their tolerance to certain plant defensive compounds. Most butterfly and moth caterpillars eat only a small range of plants, and over half of our bees in North America collect pollen from only one group of plants. These are specialists, and they form a crucial part of biodiversity that’s often left out when habitat is lost and urban sprawl leaves ornamental plants that only a few hardy troopers (the generalists) will tolerate. Native plants are not ~in~ when it comes to gardening though, and it is difficult to find them being sold unless you know where your local native nurseries are. Demanding these plants has slowly begun to change the market, and now some can be found as seeds in places like Home Depot or Lowe’s. Recent studies have shown that songbird nests can fail in suburban areas with a lack of native plants, due to low abundances of insects. If you want birds, once again, provide insects! 

Native plants are easier to grow and care for than exotics, because they are adapted to your region, its seasons and climate and precipitation. That’s less manicuring, fertilizing, and pesticide-spraying on your part.

Remember what all animals need - food/water, shelter, and a place to raise young. Providing only one of these things doesn’t do a whole lot of good, as they may stay for a little while but not forever, and you’re not actually creating habitat.

Coarse woody debris - aka logs, stumps, snags, and brush piles - are very useful to wildlife, as sources of food (they host many insects), shelter, and nesting sites (a LOT of birds nest in tree holes and excavated cavities, as well as mammals). Leaving these ‘eyesores’ is doing a lot of good, as well as not raking your leaves (or at least keeping them in a pile) and allowing dead perennial stems to persist through the winter and spring. Bees will be nesting and hibernating inside them!! See? Less work for you, with a hefty payoff.

Diversify as much as you can, in every way you can. Bloom color, bloom time, plant family, leaf texture, growth habit. It will maximize the species you can host in one space. 

The goal of creating habitat in your yard is bigger than just inviting pollinators and birds. It’s restoring connectivity to the landscape. Fragmentation of habitat has massive negative effects on wildlife, from mammals and amphibians who need to cross highways and go through yards to get to the next woodlot to the ‘edge effects’ of habitat islands surrounded by parking lots, loud noise, and urban predators. The more people create habitat, the more we ‘plug’ our land back into the larger landscape and help support wildlife at a much bigger scale.

Research, research, research! You need to find what plants are right for your state and region, your soil type and sun levels, and many other specifics only you know. Luckily, there’s plenty of information and books out there to help you (I will recommend some further down).

YOU CAN DO SOMETHING, NO MATTER HOW SMALL. You could own one acre or ten, or maybe just a windowsill or patio garden. Put out a bee hotel. Keep natives in pots (that’s what I do at home). Spread the word (that’s a biggie). You are always able to help.

So, for my situation, we have silty loam soil (you can find yours here), mostly full sun with areas of part-sun and shade. A big problem I had to plan around was the deer, who come through the neighborhood regularly and try to eat the hostas and hydrangeas. Many ornamentals are marketed as ‘deer-resistant’ but a lot of native plants are as well. It has to do mainly with leaf chemistry and texture which equates to some level of palatability. Of course, if they’re very hungry, deer will even eat pine needles. My landlady tasked me with creating habitat that was low maintenance. She is older in age and does not have the time or means to be manicuring everything. Apart from the deer resistance, my landlady also wanted a new groundcover that would thrive in full sun unlike the vinca, because her goal is less lawn to mow. I have a vendetta against the vinca now so I’ve vowed to do all I can do diversify the groundcover. There are many butterflies and moths that rely on various weedy or groundcover plants as caterpillar food (especially violets!). With these criteria, I set out to find a list of plants native to New York available near me for sale that would create a wonderfully diverse wildlife and pollinator garden. 

Luckily, central New York has ample resources for this purpose. I utilized the Habitat Gardening in Central New York network heavily, as they have an annual complete buying guide for all native plants in the region being sold by participating nurseries. Audubon, Cornell Habitat Network, Cooperative Extension, Xerces Society, and many others also have information to help. If you’d like a bit of introductory and insightful reading, check this out. Native plants can be bought online as seeds or root stock as well, from places like Prairie Moon Nursery, which caters to the eastern U.S. There are many websites with information on specific plant growing needs, like the Missouri Botanical Garden site. 

But wait, there’s more! Don’t forget about our best friend, books! Scientists have been working really hard to gather information and publish it for the public and in the last decade or so a really good handful of books about native landscaping, pollinators, and ecology have come out to aid the everyday person in creating habitat! I want to offer a list of some of my top picks, whether you just want to learn more about the topic or use it as a planning tool, these are pretty readily available at major bookstores. 

Books on Pollinators, Ecology, and Native Gardening

#1 - MY ALL TIME FAVORITE!! MY GOSPEL!! Bringing Nature Home by Doug Tallamy (an esteemed professor at U of Delaware, I almost was his grad student). This gorgeous full-color book was the basis for a lot of what we have now and played a major role in introducing the public to the concept of native landscaping. It brought together concepts about the importance of insects, especially herbivorous ones, for birds and wildlife, why and how to support them, the reason we need native plants and why invasives are so harmful, and has a lot of resources and beautiful photos as well. You know how Christopher Lee would read Lord of the Rings every year? Yeah that’s me with this book. Everyone should own this.

#2 - The Bees in your Backyard by Joseph Wilson and Olivia Messinger Carril. This is the single best, most informative, well laid-out, usable bee book out there. Stunning portraits of every genus of bee in North America, with a section on their life history and a section (for us scientists!) on how to identify them under the microscope, thus it’s for all audiences. A significant portion of the book is devoted to the ecology and conservation of bees and how to create pollinator habitat. 

#3 - Pollinators of Native Plants by Heather Holm. The book I’d write if it hadn’t already been written, this comprehensive book brings together an incredible amount of information and photos in a user-friendly format. It goes through wildflowers of the eastern U.S. from prairies to woods and wetlands, painting an in-depth picture of their ecological relationships with pollinators. Each plant has a profile about its life history and growing requirements, and the many pollinators that utilize it either as a nectar source or a host plant. Incredibly useful when planning habitat, and it has a huge section with a mind-blowing amount of charts and visuals to help you pinpoint exactly the plants right for your site and needs. 

#4 - Buzz: The Nature and Necessity of Bees by Thor Hanson. A brand new book that I fell in love with as soon as I started reading it. Not a field guide; a book of science, conservation, and personal experiences told beautifully and full of passion. My favorite work of bee non-fiction! It is incredibly inspiring. It focuses on native bees, not honeybees (none of this work for pollinator gardens is really for honeybees, and there’s plenty of books out there on them if you’re more interested in that). Native bees are poorly known by the public, and this book endeavors to give us a glimpse into their world, from the evolutionary story that begins millions of years ago to the millions of alkali bees that have found a home on one Washington farm. You will come away wanting to start your new garden tomorrow. 

#5 - Summer World by Bernd Heinrich. Well, ANYTHING by Bernd Heinrich. He’s a renowned scientist and naturalist from New England who has a heck of a lot of books documenting his observations and discoveries about the natural world over the decades, as well as the challenges it faces in today’s human world. This is one of my favorites. I’ve met him and I am constantly inspired and often brought to tears by his words. He weaves tales of science, history, and his own life together to match that of Thoreau or Frost and offer us insights into nature that we so often pass by in our hurried lives. Other books include Winter World, One Wild Bird at a Time, Life Everlasting: The Animal Way of Death, and The Homing Instinct. 

#6 - Last Child in the Woods by Richard Louv. A groundbreaking classic that follows the principles of E.O.Wilson (one of the fathers of our field!!), that all human beings need nature to be healthy both physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, and that we have an intrinsic connection to nature and a drive to have it in our lives. Our separation from it in the modern era has come at great cost to ourselves and the planet. This book sets the stage for serious research and justification for why children need to have contact with nature at an early age, how it affects our whole lives and morals as adults, and how it ultimately decides the fate of our world when those children grow up to either want to save the earth or contribute to its destruction. A fundamental and frankly, earth-shattering read. I read it when I was in high school, and it is so so important to the work I do now. Don’t get all ‘hurr durr Thomas Edison was a witch’ on me. You know we have a problem, and I see it every time a two year old is watching an ipad instead of what’s outside around them. 

I hope these resources were helpful. If I think of more, I’ll add them in future installments. Thank you for reading, and I hope you will join me in tracking this garden through the year! I’m so excited :D

[jupiters-club]

Origin of Love

Icarus woke one morning to the mysterious man staring out the window once more. He looked to be deep in thought, his arms crossed, and seemed to have rummaged through his many storage rooms to find a blue button-up shirt and some jeans. Though he wasn't able to find shoes, he was wearing socks, and appeared to have significantly calmed over the past few days. He was no longer shaking, and held himself with pride.

He wondered briefly why the man in blue seemed to have such a drastic change, but he understood that maybe he was just putting on a brave face. Or maybe he did actually change, but Icarus doubted that. The man had passed out almost nonstop from anxiety and fear, trapped in a loop of panic that Icarus had no idea how to fix. Icarus had become so worried that he'd hoped and hoped a Cresselia would arrive to put his mind at ease. Whether or not his prayers were answered, he was relieved that this man seemed to be okay.

Approaching gingerly, the night he'd almost been strangled still fresh in his mind, Icarus called, “would you like something to eat, sir?” The man didn't jump. He turned and looked over his shoulder as smoothly as anyone else, staring at Icarus with warm yellow eyes. “Sure. Do you have toast and jam, perhaps?” “I might!” Icarus smiled, lunging over his counter into the kitchen. The man was taken aback, but Icarus ignored the look and began to rummage through his pantry. “I usually just stick to pasta because it's easy to make. You can find it and sauce just about anywhere nowadays…” The man hummed and took a seat at the table. “I apologize for my behavior over the past few days.” Icarus raised his head over the bottom pantry door, raising an eyebrow. “Why?” “I hurt you.” “Well...yes. Yes, you did.” “And I'm sorry.” “Why the sudden change?” Icarus asked, his arms full of five different kinds of bread. He stepped over to the counter to find his toaster under piles of clean rags and dishes that weren't able to fit in the cabinets.

The man looked to be in deep thought, one of his fingers pressed against his lips. His gaze glanced over the bookshelf beside the table, taking in trinkets and even a drawn portrait of Icarus with someone clad in green. “I wasn't myself. I know I wasn't.” He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes. “I was leaving some sort of...state, if you could call it that. But I have no idea what it was,” he added quickly, before Icarus could ask questions. His voice was deep, quiet, and thoughtful, completely unlike before. “When I had originally come to, I just felt...nothing. I was in nothing.” As Icarus pulled out his toaster, he opened a nearby cabinet to find jars of jams and preserves over the past months. He'd always forgotten quickly what he had in his home, remembering that he was planning today to go pick up more food that he probably didn't need. He scratched that off his list. “I've never heard of anyone describe something like that,” Icarus whispered softly. “I've certainly felt nothingness in state of mind, but nothing like that.” “You lost him.” “What?” Icarus froze. “You lost this man.” The mysterious man stood up, reaching across the tiny table to scoop up the framed picture. The man had long hair swooping around in the wind, tied at the end with what looked to be bells. Him and Icarus both stood there laughing against the backdrop of the ocean, and he couldn't help but notice that there was a striking resemblance in the green man to the two children that often ran around the house. “Is that why you felt nothingness? Nothingness is nothingness, after all, just different manifestations.” Icarus cleared his throat, pressing the lever on the toaster down. “Yes, I suppose so,” he said stiffly, watching the man carefully. “His name was Phineas, Ilay and Bratwurst's father.”

The other man's brows raised and he looked at Icarus. “Bratwurst?” “Oh! Uh. That's just...what I call Bratumil, don't worry about it.” Icarus grinned at the other man and began to spread jam across the toast that had popped up. “They're both actually in school right now. They wanted to be like the mortals.” “So you're legendary?” “Yes.” Icarus took one plate for himself and another for the man, though his plate had an assortment of foods like yogurt and berries. He sat down, gesturing for the other to sit as well. “They call me Lugia, you know. Bringer of Rains, sometimes.” Inspecting his toast, the other man nodded. “Tell me about it.” He set his toast down, as if he was unsatisfied. Icarus felt a little bit disappointed, since this was the first time at all in the past week and a half he'd seen the man even want to look at food. “Please. I don't even remember the stories about the world. I don't think this is the same world I was on before I… I don't know. Was I asleep?” Icarus shrugged. “I don't know. I found you on the beach beaten and bruised.” He poked at his yogurt with a pecha berry, crossing one leg over the other. “I was created probably a few million years ago.” “Were you created with a purpose?” The man took a bite of the toast. At that moment, a torrent of sleet rained down from the sky. “I know, at least, that most are.” “When you asked if I was legendary, I figure you are too.” Icarus cleared his throat, staring out the window over the couch in the living room. “I was created to serve a legendary Pokemon I only know as the Leviathan. Me, Ho-Oh, and the three Forces of Nature didn't even have names until much later. I don't even think Atlas had a name until very recently, in which he was renamed Regigigas from The Colossal One. Ancient names are finicky, I think.” “Is it good to have a name?” “Well...yeah! I'd say so! But, it isn't necessary.” He shook his head, staring at his toast again. He picked at the crust with his thumbnail and continued to eat. “I think it'd be fine to have a name. I wouldn't want to be hey-you all my life, I think. What are good names, Icarus?” “I...I have to admit, I was actually thinking about it the past few days.” Icarus looked ashamed, putting his fruit back down. “I thought about asking you if you'd like to be called Kaito.” “Kaito?” “Kaito, after an ancient sea.” “Kaito. Kaito...” The man nodded, whispering it over and over to himself. A look devoid of expression crossed his face and for a brief moment Icarus' heart fell. He reached forward to try and shake the man out of it, but Kaito snapped out of it real fast. “I love that name. I feel like it should mean a lot to me.” Icarus smiled, pulling his hand back. “I wasn't going to just suggest any name, you know! A legendary needs a good name, I'd say. Something folks will remember.” He nodded. “Yes, I see what you mean. Where did Icarus come from?” “Hah! That's...well, that's a good question. It was a name from an ancient myth, about a Pokemon who'd learned to fly with man-made wings.” Icarus closed his eyes as he thought about it. “The myth said that the boy drowned, because he flew too close to the sun. Too close to Diablo.” Kaito looked confused. “Diablo? Who is he?” “She, actually. She's the opposite of me.” Icarus leaned forward, completely forgetting about his breakfast. “I'm the cool winds that carry the rain, but she is the warm winds that chase the rain away.” The gears were turning in Kaito's head. He nodded, amazed. “That must have been the golden being in the sky...” Without warning, he bared his razor-sharp teeth, banging a fist against the table. The plates jumped, and Icarus went on high alert. “I hate her. I don't know why, but I hate her.” Icarus swallowed, standing up. “I do as well. But we have always hated each other. Ever since our very creation, we were created as opposites. We are not siblings, but rivals, and others have said that we were never meant to meet. But we always do. Always.” He took a deep breath, shuffling away to the living room to look at the torrential rains. “Right now, the rain isn't as bad as it was when she had shown up, but I don't want her near this beach again. She works for the Behemoth.”

Windchimes clanged together in a distant window. The ones above the couch had been taken down to sooth Kaito's ears, but he wished that he could hear them all. They comforted Icarus, each one a memory from long past. “The Leviathan creates rains. I guide those rains. The Behemoth creates heat, devastating heat. I heard that where Diablo was, there was such a bad heatwave that anyone who wasn't inside got almost completely burnt to dust.” Kaito's breath became labored and he had to gasp for air. He felt his blood boil, the red markings covering his body glowing even more vibrantly than they had before. Icarus glanced back at him as the rain came down harder, and he felt like he'd stumbled upon the one question he'd been asking himself since he was an infant. “When I was a baby, I fell into magma. I thought it was just orange water.” Icarus turned back to the sky, leaning across the couch to stick his head out the window. He let the rain pour over his face and his hair. “I remember that I melted into water, reborn again as a baby chick on the ledge. This was only hours after my creation. When I named myself Icarus, it was because I flew too close to Diablo many years later, clueless about who she was. I burned up. She turned me into nothing but steam, and again I burst into water, reborn again as a baby chick.” “Why are you telling me this?” Kaito growled. He didn't seem to be angry about the fact that Icarus was telling the story, but because he'd brought up the Behemoth.

“To tell you the origin of my name.” “You are named after a dead man.” “I named myself because it was fitting. Because I kept getting too close to the sun. I'm oblivious. I really am, boss.” Lightning soared through the sky. Thunder shook the earth and the house, the rain coming down harder than it did the day that Kaito washed up on the beach. Something snapped in the man, who turned out the door, down the stairs. Icarus followed, preparing to send the rain away, but something stopped him.

On the beach in the shore was a whale. He assumed it was a whale, though it looked quite like a shark. Long and sleek, blue and white, with red markings all across its body. It pushed off the ground and launched itself into the ocean. Icarus didn't follow it. He simply stood on the beach, watching in awe as the rain followed Kaito like it was on a leash. The rain never stopped, but as it got farther from Icarus' home, the brighter and warmer it became.

Icarus took a deep breath, pleased and content.

But his eyes widened and suddenly he was running into the ocean, screaming at the top of his lungs. “Boss! You can't fight the Behemoth! Boss--!!”

[jahmusicandlive]

Practice makes perfect.

So after this blog post is uploaded I will have finally completed ‘it’s not all rock'n'roll’ (one of my first modules at uni). The thing that’s really hit me about this course, and particularly this module is how hands-on and close to real life experience it is. In the first term alone we’ve put on a whole event and participated in realistic 'media interviews’. The idea of these interviews is to prepare us for when a situation is likely to arise in our future careers in which we must face the media over a controversial topic. We were given four topics and two questions we would be asked for each topic, however in the actual interview we would only focus on one topic (known to us only once in the interview) and be asked the two given questions and a number of 'surprise’ questions. 

My immediate concern was the surprise questions and having to think on my feet, but that was the point after all. Since we wouldn’t know which topic we would have to talk about we had to research all four. I was okay with this as even if we weren’t asked about 3 of the topics it was still relevant knowledge. The topics consisted of: 

-Timing (our artist had arrived on stage late) 

-Sponsorship (we were putting on an event in the countryside, but were being sponsored by BP) 

-Drug dealing (The venue we managed had reports of drug dealing nearby) 

-Media crisis (an artist we managed made a controversial comment about the pope). 

 Initially my worries were with the timing topic, since before researching I felt that this would have the least factual and legislation related material, however I was quick to learn after a few internet searches that the media crisis would be the one I struggled with the most, and you guessed it, that’s the one I was given. The reason I struggled with the media crisis the most was because, although there were previous examples of this happening, it was a question of free speech, and whether the artist was entitled to make the comment. When it came to drug dealing I had already researched this for a previous blog post so had knowledge of The Loop working with police on drug testing as well as finding out about The Warehouse Project and amnesty boxes, etc. And when researching the sponsorship topic I found out about BP’s efforts to create a new image and previous work with the arts and cultural society. Even timing eventually came to me as I was enlightened by previous situations and fee’s for breaking curfews. But crisis, oh crisis, what do I say about you? 

 The overall idea was that my artist had made a comment about the pope’s knowledge of alleged child abuse and I had to come out and talk to the media about it. The two questions I knew were coming were “has your artist apologised for their statements?” and “does your artist believe the pope knew of the alleged abuse?”. My only real prior knowledge on this subject was when the Dixie Chicks got themselves into a somewhat similar situation, but other than that I didn’t really know where to start. After reading some crisis management advice websites I quickly learned that apology is the best policy, especially when the accusation is not only so serious, but a statement rather than an opinion. My main goal was to find something factual to base my answer on, a law or a rule, but this didn’t exactly happen. After narrowing down my research and creating very briefly bullet-pointed flash cards for each topic I was ready. 

 So, the day of the interview. My flat mate who’s also in my course was one of the first people to go, she got back and said that it was okay and that the lecturers sat and talked with you first and made you feel comfortable (which is near-impossible when there’s a video camera pointing in your face), however this did calm my nerves a little. I must add, I’m not usually a nervous person, I would consider myself confident and I believe I come off that way, however the risk of getting crisis management along with the surprise questions was still throwing me. I got to the interview early and sat outside talking with some course mates, most of which had already completed the interview, and once again reassured me that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed (and they were right). My lecturer welcomed me into the room and started talking to me about my Christmas and New Years (which I knew was to make me comfortable, but hey, it worked). So after a bit of chit-chat he told me I would be asked about the media crisis (oh look, comfort out of the window) but there was nothing I could do but get on with it to the best of my ability. He asked the questions I knew about, and I answered with the little factual information I had, and then the surprise questions which actually Weren’t that bad (the questions that is, not my answers). Before I knew it the interview was over and we were back to the comfortable chit-chat. Walking back home afterwards I felt a level of disappointment in myself, knowing that I had more to show, but I also knew that there was nothing I could do now and the interview was a learning experience and was there to improve my skills (they definitely need improving). 

 So, what could I have improved in my preparation and performance? Firstly, and this is always my first one, START SOONER (sorry about the caps I’m trying to drill it into my own head). I feel that although I did give myself enough time to research, I didn’t have as much time to practice, which really affected my performance as we all know that practice makes perfect. Not only this but I managed to pick up a cold the day before the interview, meaning the last few valuable hours I had were spent going over my research when all I wanted to do was curl up in bed - this feeling is not a good motivator. Another thing I wish I had done was build up from the bottom - and by that I mean start and put the most time into the one I felt the least confident on, but instead I worked harder on the other 3 and ran away from my problems with fingers crossed that I wouldn’t get the difficult one (top tip: this method doesn’t work). I also need to learn to ask for help… Not necessarily from my lectures, but from my course mates who happened to be going through and researching the exact same thing. Prior to the interview I was afraid to do this as I was concerned it would seem suspicious if we had the same answers, however looking back I realise that even if we had some of the same resources the idea of talking on the spot means that no two answers will be the same. Finally, my actual performance. Because of being less prepared for one topic I feel I was setting myself up to fail, I felt so confident in the other three topics that when I got the one I didn’t want I stumbled my way through, constantly re-checking cue cards to see if I had any more information which I feel made me look like I was focusing more on them than the interviewer and 'reading off the sheet’ as it were. Fortunately in this occasion I was talking to my lecturer about a hypothetical situation, however I feel that if it were real I seemed so unsure of my own opinions and answers that it would have made the public question them as well, which is not really ideal in that situation. 

 Overall, as much as the previous few paragraphs may make you believe, I’m actually really happy with myself. Sounds weird right? I’ve just gone on about all the things I did wrong but I’m happy with myself? Well, the reason I’m happy with myself is because this is something that I had never done before, and until the assignment was told to us I’d never really considered it as a skill I’d have to master. And though I used 'stumbled through’ as a negative comment earlier, I did in fact stumble through. I made it through the questions that I was least confident on, which gives me hope for not only questions I am confident on, but the idea that much of that stumbling was first time nerves and with time I will get better and master that skill, along with many other skills taught on this course. After last terms antics I have brought a really positive outlook and attitude to this term and I’m really excited to stumble through some more, and eventually get better at everything there is to learn here.