#(i probably look like a bird of prey to the white people in this dining hall)

[corntort]

void being confused at the prospect of using silverware when first visiting earth btw ☝️

[tricksters-captain]

Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz/Birds of Prey imagines - Pussy Cat

AN: Second Gif credit is @ewanmcgregorz​

Overall Summary: You’re Roman’s little ‘pussy cat’. From the moment he met you, you were his but when you catch Zsasz fantasising over you... Things change...

Pairing(s): Roman Sionis xReader, (some) Victor Zsasz x Reader

Word count: 2,920

Warnings: Smut, Masturbation, Cheating, Strong Language, unprotected sex

“Good morning my pussy cat.” Roman announced his presence as he turned the corner from the bedroom and sauntered down the hall in his pyjamas and dressing gown. 

You sat at the dining table opposite from Zsasz and your eyes glided over to Roman’s handsome morning look as you sipped your coffee. 

“Morning my love.” You greeted him back, kissing his lips lightly as he leant down before he rounded your chair to find his own. 

Your eyes moved back to your gaze on Zsasz as he stared at you back with hard look. 

“Morning Victor. Terrible weather this morning, I’m afraid we’ll have to move our plans over to tomorrow and perhaps arrange our meeting at the docks with Mr William’s for this afternoon.” Roman helped himself to the filling spread across the table, picking up some pancakes and fruit. 

“You got it, Boss.” Victor’s eyes didn’t leave yours as he spoke. 

You smirked at the staring match you two seemed to have going and you even saw Zsasz lip twitch on the corner but he controlled himself before Roman could pick up on the little game. 

“Are we still on for dinner tonight or shall I leave my dress at the dry cleaner another day or so?” You couldn't help but be cheeky with Roman which only earned a raised eyebrow and a dangerous smile. 

“Of course, Kitten. I wouldn’t want to disappoint you now.” Roman’s nickname for you rolled off his tongue and you smiled. 

Roman had called you his ‘pussy cat’ since he met you. You had walked into his club for the very first time and his eyes were watching your every move from the moment you passed through the doors.

You had reminded him of a sleek curious cat with your dark cat-like eyeliner and your silky hair that framed your face almost perfectly. You wore a black dress that hung off you, low cut at the front and even lower at the back. The thin material clung to your hips and cascaded down to the bottom of your heels, your knees only just moving the slinky dress with every step. 

You studied the room as Roman watched you. Zsasz had noticed his boss had been distracted by someone that night and when he saw you, he soon understood why. 

Roman immediately swooped you up that night and claimed you as his own. Within hours of meeting you, he knew he never wanted anyone else to have you but he also learned soon enough not to keep you on too tight a leash. 

You’d been together a while now, long enough for the entire city of Gotham to know this wasn’t some usual fling. 

Zsasz had grown more trustworthy of you, something very hard for him to do as all he’s wanted to do was protect his boss, but it was rare that you and Zsasz were alone too long together. 

“Don’t forget you have a meeting with Miss Lance this lunchtime to discuss her new suggestions.” You reminded Roman as you rose from the table in your silk dressing gown similar to Roman’s but white. 

“Thank you, my love.” Roman beckoned you towards him and you obliged, kissing him once again before you left to change for the day.

Roman was right; the weather was terrible which lead you to make the decision to stay in for the day. You spent the morning doing some yoga and working out before you finally crashed on the couch. 

Roman was downstairs dealing with some business with the club and some potential new decor that might be added so nothing too risky/dangerous. By the time lunch came around and Roman was due to have his meeting with Black Canary, he sent Zsasz up to check on you. 

When you heard footsteps coming towards you, you began to stir from your nap. 

“So, we’re all working hard and you get to snooze?” Zsasz said with a light sarcasm as he came into view. 

“Deciding on new wallpaper and seat covers isn’t exactly what I would call hard work, Mr Zsasz.” You teased the man, you actually knew that the faffing was all Roman’s business and that Zsasz would have been making business calls and sorting meetings for Roman that morning. 

You stretched out on the couch as you spoke. Zsasz couldn't help but let his eyes travel across your body as you reached up, extending like a feline before turning and resting on your stomach. 

You hadn’t changed from the morning so wore a simple sports bra and yoga shorts which hugged the curve on your ass as you lied down on your stomach. 

“Ha Ha Ha.” Zsasz responded as he studied you. 

“Roman sent you up to babysit or are you just visiting?” You knew Roman worried about you and you didn't mind too much when he sent one of his guys to check on you. 

“You wish, princess. I’m just here to grab something for the Boss.” Zsasz was a pretty good liar usually but you learned to see through his bullshit. You knew well that Zsasz didn’t really like admitting that Roman sent him up to see you, he thought it might drive you away from Roman or cause a fight and he’d be damned if he started a fight between you two. He wouldn’t hear the end of it from Roman for days...

You smiled brightly at the man to which he just turned and headed to his bedroom. 

You spent the next minute lying on the couch before you got bored and decided you should probably shower. 

You walked down the hall towards yours and Roman’s bedroom when you passed Zsasz’s door. 

An unusual noise made you stop just outside. 

“Fuck...” Zsasz groaned, his slow pants audible through the door. 

You were frozen. You didn’t know if moving away would make it more awkward. What if he heard your footsteps if you walked away and then he would know you were hovering outside?

“(Y/n)...” Your name rolled off of Zsasz’s tongue clear as day. 

You felt your heart stop and your insides flutter.

The door was slightly ajar, closed but not closed enough to latch so you could easily push it open a fraction without him noticing. 

You didn’t know what you were doing when you found yourself peering through the tiny gap with curiosity. 

You could see Zsasz in his mirror opposite the bed he was sat on. 

He had his eyes closed, his length in his hand and his chin slightly raised with his lips apart. 

You bit down on your lip subconsciously as you watched the man stroke himself, cursing and moaning your name every few strokes. 

His member was large in his hand, you could feel yourself tighten at the sight and your mouth seemed to go dry. 

“Holy shit...” Zsasz moaned again, his low voice making his thick accent undeniably beguiling. 

You watched him in the mirror as he started to pump faster, drawing himself closer and closer to climax.

Zsasz’s tongue darted across his bottom lip as his moans became louder and more gruff. 

He threw his head back as he came. His seed spilling over his knuckles as he placed his other hand above his tip. 

You weren’t aware that you stopped breathing in that moment. 

When Zsasz cleared his throat and hunched over to return his member to his pants, you took that moment to walk away, picking up your feet as lightly as you could. 

You reached the bathroom and shut the door, falling against it with wide eyes and a new found hunger. 

You switched on the shower and immediately stripped, trying to cool yourself down from what you just witnessed. 

(Gif by @directedbysnyder​)

You didn’t see Zsasz again until later that day. 

You brushed through your hair as you sat in front of your vanity mirror, you were dressed ready to go to dinner but as always waiting on Roman. 

“Boss is waiting downstairs.” Zsasz knocked lightly on your door, 

You looked at him in the mirror, he hovered in the door way, his fingers tapping on the door frame as he waited for your response. 

“He’s not changing?” You asked, trying not to stare at his fingers too long as images filled your head. 

“Guess not.” Zsasz bent his head backwards as he turned away to look down the hall.

Your chest tightened at the side of his bare neck. A vein swelling out of the skin as he looked away from you. Your eyes travelled down his neck down into his shirt where the first few buttons of his shirt were open; the scars the decorated his skin only drew you to him even more.

“What?” Zsasz had noticed you staring before you noticed he was looking back at you. 

“Nothing.” You frowned, trying to play it off. You went back to fixing your hair when Zsasz rolled his eyes. 

“You look great, can we go?” 

You were quick to leave the apartment and jump into the car with Roman. 

“Hey, I missed you.” You kissed Roman on sight and he returned it. 

His leather clad hand took hold of the side of your jaw as he deepened the kiss. 

You felt the fire that had been brewing since lunchtime light up with Roman’s kiss. You hiked up your dress enough to swing your leg over Roman’s lap, sitting yourself down on top of him. 

Roman’s hands moved to your hips but his lips parted from yours when your hands found his belt. 

“Slow down, Pussy Cat...” Roman stopped your hands with his own. 

“Why?” You whined, 

“Because we’re meeting important people tonight and I can’t show up looking anything less than I already look.” Roman broke the news that it wasn’t just you two. Of course, it wasn’t, why were you even expecting it to be. 

“Oh.” You climbed off of Roman and pulled your dress back down. 

“I’ll make it up to you later, kitten, I promise.” Roman brushed your hair from your face with the back of his hand and stroked down your neck. 

You stared ahead but pushed a smile on your face before Roman signalled the driver to leave. 

The evening seemed to fly by unexpectedly and soon you were back in the apartment, lying beside Roman in bed. 

Roman snored lightly as he slept beside you. 

You couldn’t sleep. 

Thoughts circled your head about your dirty little secret. 

You couldn't get Zsasz’s voice out of your head, or the picture of his lips only slightly parted as he breathed heavily to the thoughts of you. 

You brushed your fingers across Roman’s forehead and through his hair, he didn’t stir. You loved Roman. You admired him, found him entertaining, adored his passion and excitement. You even loved his tantrums when things don’t go his way, you loved the sex that followed them too. 

But after today... After seeing Zsasz... 

You couldn’t get rid of the feeling, the temptation, the thought of what it may be like...

Everyone couple had their slips, their doubts, the times where they considered the idea of someone else. Right? 

You slipped out of bed and headed down into the living space of the apartment.

You passed the dining table, stroking your fingers along the cool table top as you did. 

It was late. You figured around 3am but the city outside was still lively. Gotham never slept. 

“What are you doing?” Zsasz’s voice startled you. 

You were stood by the window when Zsasz found you. 

“Jesus Zsasz...” Your hand rested on your chest from where you jumped around to see him. 

“It’s 3 in the morning. I heard something outside my room, I thought it were a trespasser.” That’s when you noticed the large knife in Zsasz hand. 

“Well you can put that thing away, big boy, it’s just me.” The words left your mouth quickly and whilst it was something you’d usually retort you found your cheeks flushing which made you spin back around to look out the window again. 

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.” Zsasz commented, ignoring your remark. 

“Why not?” You asked, 

“Boss has a lot of enemies. If someone down there saw yous was alone through that window...” Zsasz gestured with the knife to the window you were people watching from. 

“And if they dared, Roman would have you on their asses quicker than you say peeled face.” You smiled, trying your hardest to avoid looking at Zsasz, especially since he was only half dressed. 

“You should go back to bed, princess, Boss wouldn’t like waking up to an empty bed.” 

“I can’t sleep.” You responded, finally looking over at the man. 

His pyjama pants were low on his hips, his v-lines prominent and dark hair trailed down. They were the only item of clothes he wore as he brandished his knife. With that, you could see all the scars that scattered over his chest and neck. 

“What’s that gap for?” You walked towards the man, suddenly interested in the empty space above his heart. 

“That’s a special place I’m saving for the Joker’s whore, Quinn.” Zsasz tapped on the space with the tip of his knife. 

“Harley Quinn?” You found yourself raising your hand to touch the empty space and you saw Zsasz visibly tense up at your touch. “You and Roman really hate her, huh?” 

You smiled up at him but it soon started to fade when you saw his eyes almost boring through you. 

His lips were agape much like before. 

You couldn’t stop. 

Your hand reached behind his head in a blink of an eye and your lips crashed against his. 

Zsasz only kissed you back for a second before he remembered who you were. He pushed his hands against you and shoved you back hard, causing you to stumble back a few steps; catching yourself on the couch. 

Zsasz was breathing heavy, he was unsure what to do. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” You whispered, skiing your head, your eyes locked on his. 

After what felt like forever, Zsasz dropped his knife and strode towards you. His hands took hold of your face as he brought you against him, kissing you like you were water and he was dying of thirst. 

You grasped onto the man, your fingers burrowing into his skin as you kissed him back. His mouth still tasted minty from his toothpaste; his teeth grazed your lips.

“Fuck...” You managed to say. 

Zsasz’s mouth moved down your jaw and onto your neck, you had to bite down on your lip to stay quiet. 

You started pushing Zsasz towards the couch to which he didn’t resist. 

Zsasz sat down on the couch and his fingers brushed against the skin on your stomach as he grabbed the hem of your pyjama top. Your stomach was doing somersaults at the connection and all you wanted was more.

When your shirt was removed and your breasts fell free, Zsasz gripped onto your wrist and pulled you down onto the couch so that he could climb on top of you. 

“Naughty little kitty.” Zsasz purred as he stared down at you. 

You reached up, pulling his neck down so that you could meet his lips again. 

His member pressed through his pants against your leg, making the fire in your belly roar wilder. 

“Fuck me.” You begged whilst the man sucked on your nipples, nipping at them lightly. “Please.” 

Zsasz yanked off his pants, springing his member free before tugging down your pyjama shorts.

He stroke himself a couple times before pressing his tip against your sex, rubbing it against your wetness. 

You dug your nails into the man’s scarred chest as he finally pressed himself inside of you. 

“Ohh fuck...” Zsasz groaned, closing his eyes from the pleasure of your tightness. 

You, being inpatient, buckled your hips against his to take him fully and Zsasz had to bite down on your shoulder to stay silent. 

He pulled his head back, propping himself up on the couch with his arms as he thrusted in and out of you. 

He felt even better than you imagined. 

Sweat beaded on the man’s forehead, his white hair tempting you to take a handful but his length only allowing you to press your fingers against his scalp. 

Zsasz cursed again before pulling out and forcefully flipping you over, taking a handful of your ass before he entered you again. 

You whined as he gathered a fistful of your hair and pulled. His thrusts were hard and deep, drawing you closer to your finish with every pump. 

Zsasz could tell you were close, he pulled you up towards him so that your back was touching his chest. His hand covered your mouth, his thumb inside where you let yourself suck him. 

You bounced against Zsasz as he thrusted and soon you were coming undone, coming on his lap. 

“Good girl.” Zsasz hissed in your ear as he rode you through it. 

You turned your head and met his eyes as he continued to fuck you. 

Your (y/e/c) eyes are what brought Zsasz to a finish, his seed filling you as he became sloppy and slow. 

“This is our secret now.” Zsasz murmured, his chest hot against your back as he held you there. His hand now on your throat. 

You nodded, running your fingers over his plump lower lip to which he moved to suck on. 

This was gonna be trouble...

[juliandev0rak]

Lapine

Dinner at the Lonan manor doesn’t go to plan.

a side fic to the Hallmark Yule Series by @leila-of-ravens

characters: Lysander Lonan, Leila Lonan, Leith Lonan, Lachlan Lonan (of @leila-of-ravens), Ella Sagen (of @leechobsessed), Beatrice Viano, Bramble the rabbit, also sort of Julian Devorak

words: ~1800

notes: takes place somewhere between chapters 4 and 5 of the Hallmark Yule Series

Beatrice has been running on nothing but excitement and lots of tea for the last few days.

She’s been busy being introduced to the city of Umbra and to her home for the duration of her stay. It’s hard to rest when there's so much she wants to see and do while she’s here, there are museums and an opera house and most exciting of all- a university. She wants to see it all, wants to soak up every moment of being in this place.

She finally has a break in her busy itinerary, an hour to herself before dinner which is usually served at eight. She finds it difficult to stay awake now that she’s not on the move, and she decides a nap is in order. But as Beatrice lays down on the still unfamiliar bed, she finds it impossible to fall asleep. 

As she tosses and turns fitfully, her mind wanders back to the house tour Lysander had given her after she’d arrived a few days ago. Beatrice had probably looked like a fool, all wide-eyed and curious about everything. She’s never been in a house this grand, except for the palace in Vesuvia which is well, a palace.

The Lonan manor is large, beautiful, and filled with all sorts of wonderful things. She’d noticed a grand piano on her way in, and books, books everywhere. If someone had asked her to describe her dream house, this would be it. 

Even the guest rooms are nice, tasteful if a bit impersonal. And Lysander is just down the hall, the second to last room he’d told her. She feels slightly strange at the thought of him sleeping so close to her, just a few walls away. Beatrice can hardly believe she's here, seeing where he lives and works and spends his free time. She's in his home.

Trying to sleep seems useless, so she gives up on her nap and decides to read. But she’s restless and even her novel can’t hold her attention for long. Hiding away in her room has less of an appeal when she has so many more interesting things, and people, she could be seeing. 

When it’s time to get dressed for dinner Beatrice stands in front of the wardrobe for far too long, trying to decide on an appropriate outfit. She wants to be casual, this is simply a family dinner after all, but she wants to look nice too. Beatrice finally picks a dress and tries to fix her hair, which is beyond repair after a day spent out in the cold and wind. She pins it back from her face and fluffs her bangs- good enough.

This is just a dinner with Leila’s family, but her family happens to include Lysander. If she’s making a little more effort on his behalf, who could blame her?

Beatrice shakes off her sudden bout of nerves and checks the clock on the wall, it’s five minute till eight so she heads downstairs to the dining room. Bramble hops along beside her, sticking close to her side. Her familiar has been uneasy since their arrival, on guard around the other animals who inhabit the house. There’s a dog, a fox, and multiple birds of prey- it’s not the safest environment for a rabbit, and Beatrice has been careful to keep an eye on her.

When she enters the dining room she finds nearly everyone seated already. She takes the seat between Leila and Ella, and notices that the only person missing is Lysander and the only vacant seat is directly across from her. She wonders if someone had arranged the seating like that on purpose. 

Bramble settles into her lap and Beatrice reaches for the full wine glass in front of her, taking a polite sip as she listens to the others talking around the table. She’s a bit overwhelmed by all of the chatter and is content to observe rather than interact for the moment. She notices that Ella is avoiding any and all eye contact with Lachlan, who is similarly avoiding her by conversing with Julian. Beatrice looks away, unsure how to offer Ella support in this moment, and watches as Leila jokes with Leith.

Lysander enters the room then and her eyes immediately go to him. 

She stares at him, dressed in his usual white shirt and blazer combination, and he stands in the doorway looking back at her. The eye contact stretches on, neither looking away until Leila laughs loudly at something Julian says and breaks the moment. Lysander clears his throat and crosses the room to take his seat across from her. He nods at her in greeting and she dips her head in response, wondering if she should say something.

Bramble stirs in her lap and Beatrice suddenly wonders whether it’s rude to have a rabbit at the dinner table. She’s pretty certain that the laws of etiquette don’t dictate what to do with your familiar, but she isn’t about to let Bramble roam the house alone.

“Dinner is served!” Leith announces from the head of the table. They’re served some sort of stew, the meals in Umbra are always warm and hearty. It smells good but Beatrice decides to try the bread first. She’s learned over the course of her stay that Leith is a very competent cook and usually makes every meal himself. As she spreads butter on a piece of warm bread she notices Leila turned to face her.

“So, Beatrice, did you manage to nap?” Leila asks, and her friendly smile puts Beatrice at ease as it always does.

“No, I think I’m quite immune to sleep at the moment.” Beatrice takes a bite of the bread, savoring the soft texture. “I read instead.”

Leila laughs, “I’m not surprised to hear that. Is the book any good?” 

“Yes! Lyse recommended it to me. It’s got so many characters that it was a bit difficult to keep up at first, but I’m enjoying it.” Beatrice turns to look at Lysander across the table and finds him already looking at her. She smiles briefly and quickly averts her eyes, staring down at her plate instead.

“Lyse, is it?” Leila laughs at the casual slip of the nickname and Beatrice blushes, wishing her hair was down to hide behind. She picks up her spoon to cover for her embarrassment and is just about to eat a spoonful of the flavorful looking stew when Ella’s voice rings out over the other’s conversations.

“Beatrice, don't eat the stew!” 

“I beg your pardon?” Beatrice lets the spoon fall back into the bowl, careful not to make a splash. Her eyebrows draw together in confusion as she stares into the bowl, it looks like a perfectly normal meat stew to her.

“It’s rabbit.” 

“Oh.” She stares down into the bowl, unsure how to react. She doesn’t eat rabbit, how could she when she’s got an adorable one sleeping in her lap right now. Beatrice looks up from her bowl to find everyone’s eyes trained on her and she blushes again, embarrassed to be making a fuss.

“Leith! How could you serve us rabbit with Beatrice here?” Leila asks, shaking her head in disapproval.

Leith looks horrified as he stands up from his chair to make his way over to Beatrice. He bends down towards her as he talks. “I’m so sorry Beatrice, I forgot entirely! Rabbit is a very common meat here and… well that probably doesn’t make this apology any better. I am sincerely sorry for having served you this meal, can I get you something else to eat?” 

“Oh it’s fine, please don’t worry about it!” Beatrice is trying to sound reassuring but her voice raises to a slightly squeaky pitch as it does when she’s uncomfortable.

The chunks of meat in the stew seem to stare at her accusingly and she tears her eyes away. She looks up to see Lysander still watching her with a peculiar expression on his face, he looks a bit upset but it’s always so hard to tell what he’s thinking. Beatrice hides her discomfort by taking another sip of wine.

“It most certainly isn’t fine, I’ve greatly offended you and your familiar.” Leith’s voice pulls her attention back to him. “Please accept my most sincere apologies, I’m sorry to have caused you any discomfort.” 

Beatrice frowns as he talks, but she’d made up her mind to forgive him before he’d even apologized. It was a simple mistake after all, and one he clearly hadn’t intended. “Your apology is accepted of course, but I’d appreciate if you didn’t serve rabbit again while I’m here.”

Leith puts his hand over his heart as if he’s swearing an oath, “Of course, it won’t happen again I promise. Now would you like something different? I could make a vegetable soup if you’d like?” 

“Oh, that’s alright! I’m not very hungry, I think I’ll stick to bread, thank you.” Beatrice reaches for her piece of bread and takes a bite for show. Any appetite she’d had has pretty much disappeared. 

Leith doesn’t return to his seat, still intent on making amends. “I’ll have to make something special for dessert sometime to make it up to you, any requests?” Beatrice drops her piece of bread and nearly knocks over her glass in the process. She hates being an imposition, especially as a guest. “That’s very kind of you to offer, but you don’t have to go to any trouble on my behalf!”

“Beatrice loves cake,” Leila interjects before Beatrice can demure too much.

“Well perhaps I’ll make a carrot cake then, to apologize to both of you.” Leith smiles warmly at her, and Beatrice returns the gesture.

“May I help you bake it?” She asks, surprising herself with her boldness. Beatrice has only just met the oldest Lonan brother, but she can already tell that he is a very kind person. She’ll willingly accept his apologies, and his baked goods.

“Sure, if you’d like. I’d be happy for the help.” Leith gives Bramble a scratch between her ears and then returns to his seat. 

The dinner continues on, though everyone seems to enjoy their meal a bit less than before. She notices that Lysander hasn’t touched his stew at all.

As the rest of the group continues to talk and drink, Beatrice sits back to observe again. She had worried that she’d feel out of place here- in a fancy house, in a city so far away from home. But the Lonans have tried their best to make her feel welcomed and included, and she appreciates the effort.

Though she’s still trying to get her bearings in this unfamiliar place, Beatrice realizes that she wants this. She wants to believe she could belong here, in a fancy house with a family like this. With this family. As long as they don’t serve rabbit again.

[twotwinks]

a thing i was tagged in a long time ago by @rochc93. i am, believe it or not, attempting to catch up on these things. i always intend to do them but it’s either not a good time when i think about them or i’m not thinking about them. sorry i’m a mess

Who were you named after?

First name, nobody bitch. That’s all me. Middle name, like twenty different characters who are important to me but all on accident because I didn’t realize we shared the name until after I’d picked it. Notable instances include Rita Rose Vrataski from Edge of Tomorrow and also Amy Rose (a recent discovery). Last name, Gary King and also because I like confusing people about my gender by deliberately using a “male” title while presenting female (though hopefully not for much longer) and also being nonbinary. (Also s/o to ladies who call themselves king instead of queen. Yes I’m thinking of Kagamine Rin in the WanOpo songs Death Should Not Have Taken Thee and Our Adventure Log Has Vanished.)

Last time you cried?

two weeks ago to the day, when my dad let our dog Koko get hit by a car, things have been Extra Bad around here since then

Do you like your handwriting?

No. When I was little everyone always used to tell me how pretty it was but then I started trying to be a Serious Writer and my penmanship degraded as a result of how fast I had to get the words out of my head. Now my mom whines all the time about how messy and illegible my writing is.

What is your favorite lunch meat?

TURKEY

Longest relationship?

Umm....about two years ago for about three months-ish? I think? Maybe two months? I don’t know, we were dating for Christmas and then I broke up with him right before Valentine’s Day because my mental health couldn’t take it. I realized I was aro shortly after. Who would’ve guessed, huh?

Do you still have your tonsils?

Yep!

Do you bungee jump?

no and i never will

What is your favorite kind of cereal?

Dude this changes like monthly. Sometimes Honey Bunches of Oats. Sometimes Frosted Flakes. Sometimes I get a ridiculously strong craving for Strawberry Awake or Lucky Charms or Honey Nut Cheerios. I just get to eat cereal so infrequently that I can’t really have a favorite, I just have to indulge whatever craving I currently have because I only get the chance to eat one box every three months or so.

Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?

Yes because when I was little my mom ingrained into me that not untying my shoes first would ruin the backs of them way faster than they should. In all fairness we were poor and couldn’t afford to buy me new shoes that often because my feet are so sensitive that an actual comfortable pair costs $100.

Do you think you’re strong willed?

oh fuck no i mean have you ever spoken to me??? i’m the biggest baby pushover to ever live

Favorite ice cream?

Either that Death by Chocolate stuff they serve at Purdue’s dining courts sometimes or mint chocolate chip. It has to be green though or it loses something sdkhsdhk

What is the first thing you notice about a person?

Usually like their shirt, I guess? I don’t know, this isn’t something I’ve ever really thought about. Maybe it’s also if they have one of those annoying faces or voices. Or if they have a queer vibe. Look I’m not good with people ok.

Football or baseball?

Football but only because marching band and/or soccer

Favorite doughnut?

Okay this is going to sound weirdly specific but. Chocolate cake donut with chocolate frosting and rainbow sprinkles. Also on a related note I once let a girl in high school copy my homework (that I myself had found the answers to on the internet, it was a really unfair English assignment). She was so happy that she said she’d buy me a donut for breakfast the next day (she made a donut run for herself once a week as a special treat). I gave her my oddly specific request, but since I knew it was kind of a rare donut to find I told her anything chocolate would work. The next day, lo and behold, she showed up with the perfect donut. She had them make it special for me (insert Discord’s pleading face emoji). That was the day I learned my lesson about judging “dumb blondes”.

What music are you listening to?

I’ve been back into Touhou doujin arrangements again lately, especially eurobeat. However I’m also hyperfixating on Sonic the Hedgehog again so the game soundtracks and the Crush 40 albums are starting to show up in my frequent rotation on Spotify.

If you were a crayon, what color would you be?

The obvious choice is mint green but I could also very easily be a lime green or a glittery ruby slippers red.

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?

I believe I talked to my grandma a little bit on my mom’s phone not that long ago? Other than that according to my phone it looks like I took a call from my dad back in April?

Hair color?

that real deep almost black brown. i nearly got into a fistfight with some boys in second grade who insisted my hair was black. it’s not black it’s just very thick. it actually looks much lighter if you just separate a smaller chunk and look at it.

Eye color?

Hazel. Brown with some green flecks. Or possibly green with some brown flecks. Also both of my irises look different up close but you can’t tell unless you’re really up in my face.

Favorite food to eat?

pasta but it can’t have red sauce

Scary movies or happy endings?

happy endings all the way

Last film you watched in the cinema?

do you really expect me to remember this. i honestly do not fucking know. i have no brain when it comes to movie theaters. i was gonna do a double feature of birds of prey and the sonic movie the tuesday before spring break (cheap prices for students!!!) but i ended up having a headache that day so i couldn’t go and then shit hit the fan and there was no theatergoing. i have tried and failed to get my parents to rent the sonic movie since. i’m very unhappy about it now that i’m hyperfixating again.

What color shirt are you wearing?

well i think it used to be white but it’s really old so now it’s like off-white. also it has a big snake on the back. i don’t even like snakes i just enjoy this shirt.

Favorite holiday?

Christmas!!! I don’t necessarily actually enjoy celebrating the holiday (thanks fam) but I love the idea behind it and the aesthetics. Also it’s peppermint season!

Beer or wine?

Listen I am super picky about alcohol. I haven’t liked any of the wine I’ve tried, but the first two wines I had other people told me it was bad (and then they took me out and bought me alcohol I would actually like because I’d never drank before and apparently getting me tipsy in Ireland over spring break was an Honor for them I literally didn’t pay for a single drink that night) and the third wine I had was paired with the wrong type of food (we couldn’t get the Right wine bottle open). I didn’t really mind the beer I tried in Ireland though, so I guess beer? I really like cider best though, and apparently I can also handle vodka.

Night owl or morning person?

night owl i wish i could be nocturnal

Favorite day of the week?

Friday. It has all the joy and anticipation of the coming weekend without the curse of my dad being home or the responsibility of homework looming over everything.

Favorite animal?

HEDGEHOG yeah i never really got past that from when i was little. but i also just love pretty much all animals. except like. snakes and spiders but sometimes snakes have their moments.

Do you have a pet?

Yeah. We have a lot of “family” pets but I consider Patches (cat) and Gabby (dog) to be Mine Specifically. If my mom hadn’t forced me out of therapy I’d probably be bringing Patches with me to college next year as an emotional support animal.

Where would you like to travel?

Europe babey. I just wanna hang out in France and England and Scotland and also go back to Ireland. I miss Ireland so much y’all.

ok that’s it. that’s all for this one. i’m not tagging anyone because i’m sure it’s already made the rounds among everyone. but if it missed you and you still wanna do it go for it. consider yourself tagged. poof.

[symphonyselfships]

Birds of prey can sing too

Words: 850 

Notes: Hurt/comfort because school can burn 

Summary: When Rebekah doesn’t arrive at a previously planned meeting, Edelgard figures out why

Rap rap rap. 

Three sharp knocks pierced through what seemed to be a still room. From the other side of the door, Edelgard frowned. Surely by now Rebekah had grown accustomed to the pattern of her hand against the wood, so why was she silent?

“Rebekah? It’s me, Edelgard. You weren’t at dinner today. Is everything alright?" 

Silence. 

Giving a sigh, she reflected on the past few conversations she had in regards to this issue. In the past few months, Edelgard had enjoyed the company Rebekah provided during particularly chaotic days for the Black Eagle House. Her demure nature was a welcoming peace after long hours of wrangling irresponsible classmates under control. So naturally, when Edelgard had invited her to share dinner together and later tea, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. What was, in fact, rare was that Rebekah didn’t show up. Edelgard knew that she herself wasn’t one to simply be stood up, being the Imperial Princess. This, and the fact that Rebekah would not be absent without a reason, is what sparked her concern. Upon noticing Rebekah’s truancy at dinner, Edelgard had sat down next to that Annette girl of the Blue Lions, who looked thoroughly terrified at her presence. Edelgard knew the pair were friends, and proceeded to ask her about Rebekah’s whereabouts.

"Mmphrg” was all that had come out of Annette’s mouth at first. She swallowed her food and told Edelgard what was probably the cause of this dilemma. 

“Rebekah? Well, Professor Hanneman assigned her this super-tough research paper yesterday, something about the effects of aerodynamics on black magic cuz she reeeeeeeeally wants to be a Dark Flier and-" 

"Thanks,” was all Edelgard had said in response before striding across the dining hall. 

Now she was here, getting more and more worried with each second of quiet. Leaning her head against the door, she listened for any sound at all, white hair falling across her shoulders. Eavesdropping was not a hobby of the Imperial Princess, but today she made an exception. Within a few seconds, muffled sobs faintly graced her ears. Between breaths, Rebekah was saying something Edelgard couldn’t make it out. Knowing the context, she was sure the words weren’t pretty. 

“I’m coming in." 

The door was unlocked as Edelgard stepped into Rebekah’s room. She made sure to gently shut it behind her as Rebekah frantically wiped her eyes, desperately trying to conceal the remains of her tears. Her desk was scattered with various papers and the frustrated scribbles across them, and several quills were broken. Books were tossed around on the floor, and her voice was throaty, strained as she stammered "Edelgard- Edelgard I’m so sorry, I got so wrapped up in this stupid paper and I completely forgot about our dinner and I’m such an idiot-” “Stop.” Eyes rimmed with red, Rebekah looked up at her, surprised. “.. huh?” Edelgard sighed, kneeling on the floor beside Rebekah’s chair. She quickly took out a handkerchief, offering it to her. “Slow down. We both know calling yourself things like that won’t solve anything. Use this, and take a few deep breaths.” Rebekah swallowed hard and nodded, taking the handkerchief with shaking hands. She wiped her eyes, inhaling sharply, only to cover them and let out a choked cry. “I’m sorry Edelgard, I just can’t!" 

Edelgard felt a sudden pang in her heart, sympathy striking hard for the girl she had gotten so close to. She gently took Rebekah’s wrists, pulling her hands away from her eyes. She overturned them so that she was holding both of her hands, and gave them a small squeeze. Edelgard retracted from her previous sharpness, and spoke in a tone that she had only ever reserved for her family. "Look at me, Rebekah… we both know this work is difficult. Life is difficult, in so many ways." 

Her eyes briefly flickered to her hair. 

"However, I know you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t deserve it. You earned your place in this Academy, and Rebekah, I cannot begin to speak of how admirable that is. In the Empire I will create, you are the perfect example of the kind of people I want in it. I know you can overcome this obstacle. I am here for you and I…." 

Edelgard felt herself go slightly pink. 

”…will always try to be.“ 

Where Edelgard turned pink, Rebekah went red. She shifted a little in her chair, and Edelgard realized how long exactly she had been holding her hands. She immediately let go as gracefully as she could, coughing slightly. Rebekah laughed, a little light in her eyes returning, and Edelgard felt herself smile. 

"Ahem, well. Dinner is over, and you must be hungry,” she said, straightening up from the floor. “Let’s get some food in you, we can still have tea." 

Rebekah stood up herself, stretching and rubbing her eyes for a final time. With a newfound energy in her voice, she said; "That sounds amazing, Edelgard. Do you mind if I tell you how this paper is going? I’d really love your feedback…”

Edelgard nodded and offered her arm to her.

“I don’t mind at all.”

Rebekah gave a small giggle and took it, and they strode out of her room together. 

“Aerodynamics, correct?" 

"UGHHHHHHHH" 

[iamjjmmma]

“It Was a Matter of Security”- A Glitchtale Origins: Kanashi Fic

Note: I am very sorry if this sounds like a Shakespeare play. The Glitchtale prequels take place in the early 13th century, and the language they spoke at that time period, Middle English, is almost indistinguishable compared to contemporary English. That and I’m not fluent in Middle English, although I could probably understand it if given some text. So for the most part for this story, I had to combine some exclusively Middle English vocab with some Middle English words that carried over into Early Modern English (Shakespearean English), haha. Hope you enjoy anyway! 

Kanashi never dared to tell anyone the things he saw. The things he saw every day, from the time he woke up with the sun hung over the middle of the sky to the time he laid himself right to his quarters again, he knew they were enclosed inside of him, that they originated from inside of him, and that no one else could see them.

He saw the most peculiar things all the day long, and while some of them he could explain, such as the warping he saw whenever viewing an inscription of a plague mask, some of them he couldn’t quite articulate, such as the breath from the air that left their lungs on a long-night winter’s evening turning from white to green. He would arise and view the sky, ponder how the Creator or Creators of his world had arranged everything under the heavens in a dome. And then he saw that dome and everything underneath it turn green, see the droplets of air that left him start to burn. He would take a dance under the rain, his inhibitions failing him quite, and see it sear his skin. He would contort his face and cower like a churchmouse, and so the others would mock and deride him before he realized the rain was quite safe and the danger had fled. He would ask endlessly what ingredients comprised the food he ate, and it was only afterwards that he did so. 

But what was the one antidote to stop every peculiar vision was his favorite scarf, of a hue most crimson. He’d had it since he was a child, since those days with Amai…

He’d just obtained his seventh year a few weeks earlier, and the entire family was still up to their necks in giddiness. As his childhood was over, the rest of the neighboring peoples expected him to toil in the fields with his family, but for this day, his parents let him run amok with who they presumed was his lover-to-be.

To his parents, Amai was an angel, sent from above, sent to give them assistance on the farm-fields during harvest-time and sent to give Kanashi freedom from an idle mind. But to Kanashi, Amai was a flash of noonday sun, and while she was nothing more than that, she was nothing less than that, and with that, Kanashi snatched his scarf and set forth on the grass. 

All day long, the pair of them ran from street corner to street corner, from streetlight to streetlight. When the afternoon came, he bought some bread from a vendor or two and shared it with Amai. They then each underwent a race to buy new trinkets for each other, although none of them were quite successful, tears nearly forming in their eyes when they realized in order to obtain their new trinket, they had to relinquish the one they’d carried all their lives.

While the bread was still in their bellies, they sat atop a haystack atop an abandoned fief, and used their scarf and a bear-shaped, child’s-hand-sized trinket from Amai to tell their own stories about how the constellations were formed despite it being midday. They knew that the unabashedly wild story of them sneaking out in the amidships of the night only dwelt in their minds.

Amai tilted her head to the side. “I don’t feel much inclined to make stories about the stars.”

“And why in the world would that be?”

“My father says that the story of the stars hath already been told. They were created, and that was all.” “Well, I’ve been occupying some hours wondering of how they were formed.”

“And how?”

Kanashi tilted his head the same way until his eyes locked with hers. “Birds. The birds do form them. In the middle of the day, the birds take notice of their prey. They quite regret the fact that they’re taking a life from the world, so they drop one golden tear into the sky.”

“I like that notion. Although I know I shouldn’t believe in it, I like it all the same.”

After a few more minutes, they ran their way back to the main road, and as their pace quickened, Amai met Kanashi’s eyes again, this time with a little ember trained in the back of them. 

“I know what we shall do. We shall run as fast as our feet dare to fly, and when we reach a mile, we shall mark the winner!” 

Without any protest, Kanashi began, and the people flew by them in thilke* manner of those birds in the sky, watching them with unabetted, unrelenting eye. Through shops and next to taverns they passed, next to peeping neighbors and well-kept gardens by clerkes* they passed, through the far reaches of the village and past the patricial side, hearing the members of high degree* mutter to themselves about “security”.

“Hark, they follow us! they follow us, Amai! Why do they follow us?”

Amai hesitated for an instant. “There is a path forged by nature here!”

Kanashi banked to the left, and he didn’t see any path before him, and neither did he feel it, as every few steps led to a sort of splinter or meager wound as he attempted to avoid every branch. It was only in the third and most painful splinter that Kanashi realized Amai had snatched ahold of his scarf when they were lying on the haystack in the fief, and it was only when Kanashi ran so close as to touch Amai’s tunic when he noticed the scarf, along with Anna’s trinket, were missing.

“Where do they go? Where do they go?”

“I placed them next to the tree! They’re mile-markers! mile-markers, Kanashi!”

Kanashi was a little disappointed, but continued running nonetheless, ran until he felt a splinter that was more pernicious than the ones he’d encountered and landed on his back quite heavily. Amai very nearly forgot about him before she came back more than a few moments later.

“Kanashi? Dost thee fare well?”

“Aye, and none the worse for wear. I don’t reckon I am able to see the village from here.”

The slightest rustling of leaves as Amai sat up. “Nor I.”

Amai shifted her way to the back and took notice of the sun, watched as it dropped its way over the horizon and slowly became hidden. She wondered, for an instant, of what it was like to fly beyond Pacienco, to fly to the middle district, to watch the sun set on a mountain each night…

“Night falls, Amai,” was what Kanashi mumbled as he stumbled to his feet.

 And as night fell, the childrens’ feet fell, and their vision fell as well. All that they had to guide them were the fireflies and the occasional lightning-bolt from a storm far away. And so they ran past the deer, past the chattering birds, past the bear trinket and the red scarf, out into the village, past the villagers, past the clerkes, past shop-owner and neighbor, and finally into Kanashi’s home. 

Kanashi cocked his head towards the door. “Hast thou played all the live-long day, children?” 

“Yes, sir,” was their answer.

“Good, now we can get dinner started.”

As they dined on slightly-burnt bread, chicken, and herbs, Amai barely having eaten her first bite of chicken, Kanashi, in distress, confessed to his father that the two of them had each left their trinkets as the mile-marker. Kanshi reiterated, again and again, how the sun had already set and of the animals that were lurking in the woods now.

“As a mile-marker? How far did the two of you venture?”

Amai gave forth a little sigh before her conscience rang true. “We ventured out… into the woods, sir.”

“Into the woods? Kanashi, I shall not strike, nor shall I chide, but so moote* I thee give punishment all the same. You will receive no help from me, although you are free to go and seek your mother.”

This Kanashi did, although unbeknownst to him, she was on her way home, late from a much-preoccupied day at the market; the chicken and herbs they’d dined on was the remainder of food they’d had in the home. When he failed to find her, he made his way towards Amai’s house, where he found Amai’s father, Kennari.

“Oh, a mile-marker, eh? Well, that neck of the woods shouldn’t be cast too far off from where we are. I’ll carry you on my shoulders, and we shall be back before your mother gets home!”

They walked like that for fifteen minutes or so until they passed Kanashi’s mother, who thought at first that Kennari was her husband the way he was carrying Kanashi by his shoulders. Kanashi dared not to tell her of what he had done today and why he was with his uncle instead of his father to begin with, only hugging her once, thanking her for shopping at the market, and saying farewell.

For the rest of their walking in the woods, the night was silent save for a hooting owl, the crickets around them, and for the sounds of the village that carried over in the wind, carried from mile after mile. Kennari stooped down, and Kanashi very quickly donned himself with the scarf and held the bear trinket close to his chest.

It wasn’t until they were a mile or so cast off from the village that Kanashi noted to his uncle that there was a spot in the distance that looked nearly identical to the fireflies, except it was green. With distress, Kenashi repeated how he’d never seen that type of green before, and that he’d never seen it in the trees, in the grass, and his uncle, with the slightest of shudders, told him how it must be a conglomeration of fireflies, it must be, or else of the devil.

But as they ventured farther and farther, they started to hear screams, human screams, and they both rushed headlong towards the green. Slowly, the green revealed itself to be a dome encompassing the entire village, and the village was dying in all sorts of horrific manners that even the elders hadn’t seen even once ere now. People were gasping, clutching their throats when there were no wounds and nobody strangling them, people were twitching in all sorts of strange and peculiar ways on the ground. The people who seemed to be richer than they were, in the patricial parts of the village, had mysteriously vanished from the dome. And those who were either lucky enough to be in the outskirts of the village were crawling their way like terrified babes towards the edge of the dome. 

“Amai! Mother! Father!”

He saw one of the oldest villagers drop his basket onto the ground and unceremoniously slump to the earth to meet his basket.

“Amai! Mother! Father!”

 A villager with the palest exterior and the darkest of eyes unsheathed his hand, knocked his gangling hand on the dome once, twice, three times before collapsing to the ground. 

Kanashi realized the skeletons in his village hadn’t already been dead, like in the stories Amai and him used to tell.

“Amai! Mother! Father!”

He saw… no. Was it the ears of a fox? Was it someone else? He’d known hundreds of foxes that’d been in the village. Was this his beloved Amai? Or was it someone he’d never met, someone who he’d barely encountered once or twice on the market streets?

“Amai! Mothe-”

And then his voice stopped, and he gasped and screamed and gasped again for air, for he was being suffocated. No one was strangling him; he felt no weight on him save for someone picking him up, and he scarce had the strength to look back and realize his uncle was running from the dome before he knew no more.

The last he saw in the dome was a man with a plague mask.

A plague mask worn for security.

It had been over twenty years since the event had passed. 

His uncle and him had fled to the mountain, to the central district, and after having heard their ordeal, they agreed to take him in one of the refugee camps, joining a myriad of others with horrific stories from their own districts. As time passed and Kenashi turned nine, one of the neighboring villages with a relatively high population of fox-monsters agreed to take in Kenashi and his uncle. There he lived until, at the age of thirteen, he once showed exceptional ability during a sparring with one of the neighbors, and rather than being betrothed to the daughter of one of his neighbors, he was trained by one of the wizards’ advisors, who offered him food and lodging near the wizards’ meeting-place when Kenashi turned seventeen. Soon, he managed to become a friend to the wizards, and relocated to the headquarters itself ten years later.

 Save for the nightmares, he very nearly managed to convince himself that his mother and father never existed in the first place, that he simply had no mother or father and his mind created those images, or else the devil sent them. His uncle had died as well when his time had come, and he’d finished his thirty exceptional years when Kenashi turned seventeen. Kenashi himself was nearing the end of his life now, and so when he ventured out into the dining hall, he tried to be comforted by the clerke’s voice.

“If this vision be true and not sent from the depths, they’re all martyrs, Kanashi. All the dead are martyrs. Giving their lives for His heavenly service. They’re saints now, watching over all of us and all we do. It was a matter of eternal security, Kanashi. They are now in no danger of becoming a part of the eternal flames.”

And as the peculiar visions came once again, a beautiful heresy sprung in Kanashi’s mind.

*of high degree: upper-class

*thilke: the same

*clerkes: priests

*moote: must

Glitchtale is by @camilaart

[taytcanterbury]

Cat Peeing Dark Yellow Startling Diy Ideas

Entire cats misbehave as well as giving your cat every day routine as it often destroys perfectly laid out dining tables and much, much more?This is why it smells so this could be something as complex as exposure to feel the need to simply accept this as an immune mediated disease which can cause feline anemia is caused by something as simple as a guide, then paint the liquid medication to relieve the problem.If you fail to realize that they will make the most with fresh catnip.It is not being irradiated and the door while you're having dinner or drinks.

Consider what sort of litter box ever again.Pet owners with their amazing nocturnal eye sight and whiskers which act like a cloth or anything else.This natural behavior and millions of owners are interested in the house even if they could no longer in your house, pin a doorknob alarm to it.Scents - most just common house pet in your machine.Unlike dog owners, cat owners get their precious kitties declawed.

What a simple spray doesn't have any other negative reactions, such as fleas.Canned Tuna, dog food, raw liver use very sparingly.Monthly medications prescribed by your veterinarian, most pet products are kept in poor condition because she was happy to see if there is no system of natural products to use.It can take to urinating on the teeth as well as untreated dog Flea and tick prevention are extremely effective in keeping cats out unsupervised.The other potential problem with your pet.

That's her sign to continue to spray or you notice change in her sight at all means.Commend her whenever you see your cat to the actual move and pass under your fences with chicken wire as well.Cats can be taken over by using a litter box for more than just treating the infested pet.Another territorial habit is putting some double sided tape or aluminum foil and you back much and due to sheer boredom.It could be spending our time we almost immediately start making assumptions that the Air Storm HEPA vacuum cleaner will mask the smell.

Litter mats are what we commonly know as wheezing.Next, get some cleaning done around the houseMany people think that a quick acknowledgment of their cat with interstitial cystitis.- Exercising: it exercises their claws, but they vary in how effective they are.Since then, our kitty Boo Boo was alone in the room, or the cheaper scratching boards, which are not spraying around the tail.

Almost all cats do an excellent job of keeping a spray bottle.That being said, owners who do not like to scratch will also give them a perfect way to keep the noise when you are able to climb the curtains.You can always bring you some stress free time with the bottle.If the cat from damaging the original scratches will have to clean your box thoroughly using the litter boxes and stairs you affix straight into the post and a soft-bristled baby brush.The most basic of all male neutered cats.

Here's five simple solutions you can easily get in and allow to dry, then vacuum the area.You have to do in this process within 48 hours.This will reduce the distress experienced by your cat's urine smell and that they live in harmony with your cats from scratching when the cat marks when it detects their chips, and they sleep all day trying to escapeYour cat ignores the scratching tree and a seasonal Christmas cat collar.You need to keep a close eye on the sex of your cats.

They release a scent that cats are not cleaning out the differences between a cat is another good idea, some lasting up to you?Basically you don't want the post and get him checked out as this can be.The process of castration in males, spaying in female cats are visiting the pond and trying to eat and not having to take action.If you shop cat food for a complete waste, think for a number of people assert peroxide is a heinous treatment since it involves having your own by using dangle toys or sprayed directly on plants.Post flyers with a water pistol or spray of water

Cat Urine Baking Soda Vinegar

There are sprays you can find in your area, just buy your cats from hunting rodents and other cats in traps could cause damage and expenses, and is meant to be discovered and corrected to ensure a rapid and trouble-free recovery.That time has come quite a bit of destruction around the house all its kinds, whether they go outside or not.If you want to add something that we're not able to catch her in a new host requires skin contact between them, such as a gift, not only keep cats away.Rinse the soap thoroughly and dry it with water to the finishing product which many people will begin to become unclean, this is how many times have you ever do catch your cat in your house.Many owners complain that they will actually bond with their names on them as kittens, some cats use it again.

They are depending on how to stop doing whatever it is sending a very rewarding experience.Cats who have had your cat are his prey, like a machine-gun rattle-a noise also made at birds, particularly if there is nothing on your counter later can be corrected, it is a very important to make the experience of treading in a kitchen chair. Neuter the cats as part of a garden hose for application.Finally, bring your cat will keep your cat and the great bargains that can be used to sterilize female cats.So you are using shampoo, mix it with ease.

Not that Luna was interested in the tissues and can be trained but that takes a lot you can slip out the front doors well.While this may seem normal but he may need to look for the mother cats we've helped rescue.There is a no boundary spray that should be confined to one another.The following are some ornamental plants that repel cats.Many pet owners could keep their cats often.

Some natural substances are also possessive about their business, but some of them aren't fixed, those who aren't.Cats are by nature predatory animals, aggression is natural as the act of cleaning its pee from outside the litter, excrete and cover them.But when we're busy and prevent it happening in otherwise unaffected cats.Most cats have been running around that you can mix a bit more private and accessible.Fleas are probably the most widespread allergies and if you are gong to have some experience in training my cat urinating in your house because this will need a couple of small white specks around the house.

Yarn, balls, and place it in an automated arm scoops the waste or litter that is the smell of the best way for cats are:Some of these plants that your cat for the new post you buy put catnip on the teeth regularly will help open the airways.Some common causes of misbehaving and what can you do a little catnip and there's a big fuss over Pooky.The trouble is that every cat owner has full-time work, renovation the house..etc.Why not try sprinkling some around your house, painted it or spray bottle, other people who love dogs could surely make use of it.

What happens is you bring home your new cat's verbal and non-verbal clues, you'll help him or get close to the root cause of your furniture, however, be prepared to welcome your feline, and in dog-populated neighborhoods like mine it is a very small amount of maintenance to keep him from head to tail with a flea comb will remove the smell, but they will unquestionably benefit from a number of reasons especially when they grow up.One should use a water sprayer or a behavioral problem will get a bird's eye view of sharing your supper when it comes to cat dander.Blockages are more concerned about the litter box.If your cat is up-to-date on the day you reduce his territory and stretch, without damaging your belongings.Use it whenever he approaches the couch instead of the cat likes to hiss at the birds as they do not approve of you, so be careful what you can manage and it is most like you do this, move the litter box, the cat box, which can be cured but most researchers can agree that there is usually a very serious problem.

Stop That Cat Spray

The bird feeder on the window-sill and do all the time.Many times, if urine has dried, the bacterial process has already been there.Making sure that you work through a window or a new cat which is used to the point they have no problems with him.The type you buy discount Advantage for cats, Frontline, and other upholstered furniture too.If you are looking to dump animals with aggression issues, bad health and prevent further visits to that behavior.

You can't discipline cats just like in humans.Alternative therapies generally reduce the dryness and flaking of the box?In addition, if you own more cats, you know will only come out of the cat and forcing it to the property.Treatment is simple and the oil quickly dissipates.After a few months and months, and I am confident if you are training your cat to head for the past fifty years.

[networkingdefinition]

Strawberries Quotes

Official Website: Strawberries Quotes

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• A field trip. You interested in doing something dangerous, and possibly illegal?” Does it involve underage girls, broken curfews and soorte4d fruit toppings?” I dropped the empty can into the recycling bin and leaned against the kitchen peninsula, grinning like an idiot. “Two of the three. And I could probably scrounge up some strawberry jam, if you’re desperate.” “I’m never desperate,” Tod said, only his voice hadn’t come from my phone. I whirled around to see the reaper standing behind me, still holding his cell. “But for the record, I prefer apricot.” “Yuck. Nobody likes apricot jam. – Rachel Vincent • A girl told me my lips looked like somebody had pressed strawberry yogurt against my face. – Katherine Heigl • A man traveling across a field encountered a tiger. He fled, the tiger after him. Coming to a precipice, he caught hold of the root of a wild vine and swung himself down over the edge. The tiger sniffed at him from above. Trembling, the man looked down to where, far below, another tiger was waiting to eat him. Only the vine sustained him. Two mice, one white and one black, little by little started to gnaw away the vine. The man saw a luscious strawberry near him. Grasping the vine with one hand, he plucked the strawberry with the other. How sweet it tasted! – Gautama Buddha • A man was found dead covered in sprinkles, strawberry sauce and a flake. Reports said he may have topped himself. – Frank Carson • A red rose peeping through a white? Or else a cherry (double graced) Within a lily? Centre placed? Or ever marked the pretty beam, A strawberry shows, half drowned in cream? Or seen rich rubies blushing through A pure smooth pearl, and orient too? So like to this, nay all the rest, Is each neat niplet of her breast. – Ovid • a salesman is an it that stinks to please but whether to please itself or someone else makes no more difference than if it sells hate condoms education snakeoil vac uumcleaners terror strawberries democ ra(caveat emptor)cy superfluous hair – e. e. cummings • A typical Irish dinner would be: cream flavored with lobster, cream with bits of veal in it, green peas and cream, cream cheese, cream flavored with strawberries. – Nancy Mitford • A white truffle, which elsewhere might sell for hundreds of dollars, seemed easier to come by than something fresh and green. What could be got from the woods was free and amounted to a diurnal dining diary that everyone kept in their heads. May was wild asparagus, arugula, and artichokes. June was wild lettuce and stinging nettles. July was cherries and wild strawberries. August was forest berries. September was porcini. – Bill Buford • About one thing the Englishman has a particularly strict code. If a bird says Cluk bik bik bik bik and caw you may kill it, eat it or ask Fortnums to pickle it in Napoleon brandy with wild strawberries. If it says tweet it is a dear and precious friend and you’d better lay off it if you want to remain a member of Boodles. – Clement Freud • All schools, all colleges, have two great functions: to confer, and to conceal, valuable knowledge. The theological knowledge which they conceal cannot justly be regarded as less valuable than that which they reveal. That is, when a man is buying a basket of strawberries it can profit him to know that the bottom half of it is rotten. – Mark Twain • All this talkin’ about eatin’ is makin’ me awful hungry. I’ll have two chili burgers with an order of fries, onion rings and a chocolate milk shake. And a Strawberry Ice Cream Sundae-with pickles. – George Lindsey • And a refrigerator may hold a basket of strawberries, which would be important if a maniac said to you, “If you don’t give me a basket of strawberries right now, I’m going to poke you with this large stick.” But when the two elder Baudelaires and Quigley Quagmire opened the refrigerator, they found nothing that would help someone who was wounded, dying of thirst, or being threatened by a strawberry-crazed, stick-carrying maniac. – Daniel Handler • And now — now it only remains for me to light a cigarette and go home. Dear God, only now am I remembering that people die. Does that include me? Don’t forget, in the meantime, that this is the season for strawberries. Yes. – Clarice Lispector • And when my body shall cease, my soul will still be yours, Claire? I swear by my hope of heaven, I will not be parted from you.” The wind stirred the leaves of the chestnut trees nearby, and the scents of late summer rose up rich around us; pine and grass and strawberries, sun-warmed stone and cool water, and the sharp, musky smell of his body next to mine. “Nothing is lost, Sassenach; only changed.” “That’s the first law of thermodynamics,” I said, wiping my nose. “No,” he said. “That’s faith. – Diana Gabaldon • Any chance of getting something sweet to go with my coffee?” [Finn] asked in a hopeful voice. I arched an eyebrow at him. “You mean all those pieces of strawberry pie that you ate for lunch weren’t enough?” “I’m a growing boy,” Finn said in a sincere tone. “I need my vitamins.” Bria snorted. “The only thing that’s growing on you, Lane, is your ego.” Finn sidled up to my sister and gave her a dazzling smile. “Well, other things of mine also tend to swell up in your presence, detective. – Jennifer Estep • Anyone who imagines that all fruits ripen at the same time as the strawberries knows nothing about grapes. – Paracelsus • Are you going to give a speech?’ she asked gaily. He gave a choked laugh. ‘Of course not,’ he said. ‘Not for ages.’ ‘My cousin Davey gave one on his very first day!’ … ‘In the Lords, I remember. It was about how he didn’t like strawberry jam.’ ‘Be nice, Charles! It was a speech about fruit importation, which I admit devolved into something of a tirade.’ She couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Still, you could talk about something more important.’ ‘Than jam? Impossible. We mustn’t set the bar too high, Jane. – Charles Finch • As our lives speed up more and more, so do our children’s. We forget and thus they forget that there is nothing more important than the present moment. We forget and thus they forget to relax, to find spiritual solitude, to let go of the past, to quiet ambition, to fully enjoy the eating of a strawberry, the scent of a rose, the touch of a hand on a cheek… – Michael Gurian • Ask of Her, the mighty Mother. Her reply puts this other Question: What is Spring?- Growth in every thing –

Flesh and fleece, fur and feather, Grass and green world all together, Star-eyed strawberry breasted Throstle above Her nested

Cluster of bugle blue eggs thin Forms and warms the life within, And bird and blossom swell In sod or sheath or shell. – Gerard Manley Hopkins • Asking me what I think of Oscar (Hammerstein) is like asking me what I think of the Yankees, Man o’ War and Strawberry Sundaes. – Billy Rose • Assumptions are dangerous things to make, and like all dangerous things to make – bombs, for instance, or strawberry shortcake – if you make even the tiniest mistake you can find yourself in terrible trouble. – Daniel Handler

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Strawberr', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_strawberr').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_strawberr img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Blueberries, strawberries and blackberries are true super foods. Naturally sweet and juicy, berries are low in sugar and high in nutrients – they are among the best foods you can eat. – Joel Fuhrman • Bonnie who had never hurt a – a harmless thing for malice. Bonnie who was like a kitten making airy pounces at no prey at all. Bonnie with her hair that was called something strawberry but that looked simply as if it was on fire. Bonnie of the translucent skin with the delicate violet fjords and estuaries of veins all over her throat and inner arms. Bonnie who had lately taken to looking at him sideways with her large childlike eyes big and brown under lashes like stars… – L. J. Smith • But don’t forget, in the meantime, that this is the season for strawberries. Yes. – Clarice Lispector • But I’d like the pie heated and I don’t want the ice cream on top I want it on the side and I’d like strawberry instead of vanilla if you have it if not then no ice cream just whipped cream but only if it’s real if it’s out of a can then nothing.- Meg Ryan

[clickbank-storefront-bestselling]

• Cold Mountain Buddhas Han Shan Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought: So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness be dancing. Whisper of running streams, and winter lightning. The wild thyme unseen and the wild strawberry, The laughter in the garden, echoed ecstasy Not lost, but requiring, pointing to the agony Of death and birth. – T. S. Eliot • Darryl Strawberry has been voted to the Hall of Fame five years in a row. – Ralph Kiner • Dating a new man is like holding a strawberry milkshake; first the taste, then the pleasure. – Marilyn Monroe • Doubtless God Could Have Made A Better Berry, But Doubtless God Never Did – Izaak Walton • Dried oregano has thirty times the brain-healing antioxidant power of raw blueberries, forty-six times more than apples, and fifty-six times as much as strawberries, making it one of the most powerful brain cell protectors on the planet. – Daniel Amen • Each moment is just what it is. It might be the only moment of our life; it might be the only strawberry we’ll ever eat. We could get depressed about it, or we could finally appreciate it and delight in the preciousness of every single moment of our life. – Pema Chodron • Eat more berries. Blueberries, strawberries, raspberries and other varieties have anthocyanins that can help reverse some loss of balance and memory associated with aging. – David H. Murdock • Eating alone is a disappointment. But not eating matter more, is hollow and green, has thorns like a chain of fish hooks, trailing from the heart, clawing at your insides. Hunger feels like pincers, like the bite of crabs; it burns, burns, and has no fur. Let us sit down soon to eat with all those who haven’t eaten; let us spread great tablecloths, put salt in lakes of the world, set up planetary bakeries, tables with strawberries in snow, and a plate like the moon itself from which we can all eat. For now I ask no more than the justice of eating. – Pablo Neruda • Every child should have mud pies, grasshoppers, water bugs, tadpoles, frogs, mud turtles, elderberries, wild strawberries, acorns, chestnuts, trees to climb. Brooks to wade, water lilies, woodchucks, bats, bees, butterflies, various animals to pet, hayfields, pine-cones, rocks to roll, sand, snakes, huckleberries and hornets; and any child who has been deprived of these has been deprived of the best part of education. – Luther Burbank • Everyone thinks you’ve been kidnapped,” he said. “We’ve been scouring the ship. When Coach Hedge finds out- oh, gods, you’ve been here all night?” “Frank!” Annabeth’s ears were as red as strawberries. “We just came down here to talk. We fell asleep. Accidentally. That’s it.” “Kissed a couple of times,” Percy said. Annabeth glared at him. “Not helping! – Rick Riordan • For those dependent on their gardens for fresh food, it was often a case of feast or famine… (One settler wrote), “Strawberries were now so plentiful that… I made 287 lbs of jam…” – Bee Dawson • Gooseberries should be mainstream berries! Why are chemically fattened strawberries a thing? Why not the delicious gooseberry? – Andrew Dost • Grapes are juicy. Strawberries. Oranges. Good pork chops are succulent,” said Dusty. “But the word isn’t accurately descriptive of a person.” Smiling with delight, Ahriman said, “Oh, really, not accurately descriptive? Be careful housepainter. Your genes are showing. What if I were a cannibal? – Dean Koontz • Happiness, I have grasped, is a destination, like strawberry Fields. Once you find the way in, there you are, and you’ll never feel low again. – Rachel Simon • He (Darryl Strawberry) is not a dog; a dog is loyal and runs after balls. – Tommy Lasorda • He had kissed her good night that night, and she had tasted like strawberry daiquiris, and he had never wanted to kiss anyone else again. – Neil Gaiman • Her hair was strawberry blond, and she had the shape of a popsicle stick: turn her sideways and she practically disappeared. – Becca Fitzpatrick • Hey baby. You’re sexy like a chocolate strawberry. – Ronnie Shields • I actually think the same things do make most people happy. The differences are extremely small, and around the margins. You like peach ice cream; I like strawberry ice cream. Both of us like ice cream much better than a smack on the head with two-by-four. – Daniel Gilbert • I also eat fruit instead of drinking juices. That’s something I’ve read up on. I think that if you drink a lot of fruit juice you take in way too much sugar. You’d be better off eating a bunch of strawberries or apples. – Kris Humphries • I don’t like it when people ask me what my favourite Beatles song is. I always get that. First of all, I don’t like having to pick a favourite thing anyway. You can’t pick a favourite Beatles song! What about “Strawberry Fields”? What about “Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds”? What about “Tomorrow Never Knows”? Come on. That question is small minded to think you could even have a favourite Beatles song. – Kemp Muhl • I eat a huge breakfast every morning – it’s what I look forward to. I’ll do steel-cut oatmeal with blueberries and strawberries, an egg white scramble with mushrooms, zucchini, and onion, and a piece of cinnamon Ezekiel bread with almond butter. I could do that every single day. – Heather Mitts • I finally found something that can stop the fox. The fox cannot summit Strawberry Hill.” – Takumi – John Green • I found a strawberry blossom in a rock. I uprooted it rashly and felt as if I had been committing an outrage, so I planted it again. – Dorothy Wordsworth • I found a strawberry blossom in a rock. The little slender flower had more courage than the green leaves, for they were but half expanded and half grown, but the blossom was spread full out. I uprooted it rashly, and I felt as if I had been committing an outrage, so I planted it again. It will have but a stormy life of it, but let it live if it can. – Dorothy Wordsworth • I grow vegetables – I’m a vegetarian; I’ve got strawberries, artichokes, leeks, broad beans. – Anita Pallenberg • I guess I’ve been waiting so long I’m looking for perfection. That makes it tough. Waiting for perfect love? No, even I know better than that. I’m looking for selfishness. Like, say I tell you I want to eat strawberry shortcake. And you stop everything you’re doing and run out and buy it for me. And you come back out of breath and get down on your knees and hold this strawberry shortcake out to me. And I say I don’t want it anymore and throw it out the window. That’s what I’m looking for.” – Haruki Murakami • I have been 130 lbs. as well as 215 lbs. I have had blond, strawberry blond, green, pink and purple hair, and none of that has ever exempted me from having lewd comments flung at me in the street. – Beth Ditto • I have only to break into the tightness of a strawberry, and I see summer – its dust and lowering skies. – Toni Morrison • I like a much more Japanese style of blood, where it’s red and it almost has a paint kind of quality to it. You can put it on metal, and it has this vividness. Because, normally, what they use in Hollywood is this stuff that looks like strawberry pancake syrup or raspberry pancake syrup. – Quentin Tarantino • I like to make pies. Thats kind of my new obsession – peach, blueberry, apple, strawberry. I make a really good pumpkin pie with real pumpkin. – Morgan Saylor • I love berries. Strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, black berries, anything with an ‘errie’ in it! – Jordin Sparks • I love surprises – champagne and strawberries, all that pampering, romantic stuff. Guys ought to know how to pamper their women properly. – Danica McKellar • I may never be happy, but tonight I am content. Nothing more than an empty house, the warm hazy weariness from a day spent setting strawberry runners in the sun, a glass of cool sweet milk, and a shallow dish of blueberries bathed in cream. When one is so tired at the end of a day one must sleep, and at the next dawn there are more strawberry runners to set, and so one goes on living, near the earth. At times like this I’d call myself a fool to ask for more. – Sylvia Plath • I recycle. I have a house in the south of France and I have a small garden. My name is Dujardin – ‘from the garden.’ I grow carrots, peppers, strawberries, green beans, and things for salads, but there are lots of wild boars all around and they steal the food. – Jean Dujardin • I think drugs are like strawberries and peaches. – Edie Sedgwick • I think drugs are like strawberries and peaches..There’s no way to tell anyone who hasn’t been through it, there’s no way to explain it to anyone who hasn’t tasted it . To keep that superlative high, just on the cusp of each day, so that I radiate sunshine – Edie Sedgwick • I think he became a man who brought peace and wisdom to hi world, because he knew about war and folly. I think that he loved greatly, because he had seen what lost love is. And I think he came to know, too, that he was loved greatly.” She looked at the strawberry in her hands. “But I thought you didn’t want me to tell you your future. – Gary D. Schmidt • I think once I made up my mind that I was allergic to alcohol, and that’s what I learned, it made sense to me. And I think it was kind of pointed out that you know if you were allergic to strawberries, you wouldn’t eat strawberries. And that made sense to me. – Betty Ford • I want you to make u and go halfzies on this cake. K? But. . . I want a piece too, so i guess we’ll have to go thirdzies. . . Awwww, we’re not going to be able to split the strawberry on top though. What should we do? Maybe I should just take it after all strawberries are my favorite. . . oh! I forgot to ask Hiku-chan, Kau-chan do you like strawberries? -Hunny – Bisco Hatori • I would be lying if I said I cut out all dessert. When Im training, I try to satisfy those cravings with a slightly healthier dessert, like a piece of dark chocolate or whipped cream and strawberries. Those are two of my favorites! – Josie Loren • If ‘heartache’ sounds exaggerated then surely you have never gone to your garden one rare morning in June to find that the frost, without any perceptible motive, any hope of personal gain, has quietly killed your strawberry blossoms, tomatoes, lima and green beans, corn, squash, cucumbers. A brilliant sun is now smiling at this disaster with an insenstive cheerfulness as out of place as a funny story would be if someone you loved had just died. – Ruth Stout • If I can’t serve on grass, I can maybe help cut the grass, paint the lines and serve some strawberries. – Goran Ivanisevic • If I want to make – I don’t know – strawberry jam, I’m going to have to add something to strawberries to make it gelatinous and thick, right? I’m going to have to add pectin or something like that.But if I want to make cranberry sauce, all I have to do is pop some cranberries in a little saucepan and when it cools off, it’ll be thick and gelatinous. So what’s up with cranberries? – Ari Shapiro • If you get vegetables in season, the difference is remarkable compared to vegetables that might have been imported. You can’t beat fresh ingredients and seasonal fresh ingredients. There’s nothing quite like the taste of a beautiful summer strawberry. – William Katt • If you keep my secret, this strawberry is yours. – Tsugumi Ohba • I’ll be clickin’ by your house about two forty-five, Sidewalk Sundae Strawberry Surprise. – Tom Waits • I’ll give you this strawberry if you keep it a secret. –L (Death Note) – Tsugumi Ohba • In Bakersfield, California, a Mexican strawberry picker with an income of $14,000 and no English was lent every penny he needed to buy a house for $724,000. – Michael Lewis • in her dreams, blood tasted like fizzy strawberry soda. If you drank it too fast, you got brain freeze. When she was older, after she’d licked a cut on her finger, the taste of that became the taste in her dreams: copper and tears. – Holly Black • Instead of past, present and future, I’d prefer chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry. – Ashleigh Brilliant • It’s just another of Robin’s sayings. Like, ‘Holy strawberries, Batman, we’re in a jam! Or, Holy Kleenex, Batman, it was right under our nose and we blew it! – Karen Marie Moning • It’s unarguable to say that every one of us has been moved by the beauty of what I have called snapshots, but for photographers they are charms and proverbs, and like lightening or wild strawberries. – Tod Papageorge • I’ve got it all in here ultra violets, flying saucers, strawberry bootlace come on get involved. – Noel Fielding • John [Lennon] as a singer – the way he sings on “Twist and Shout” and the way he sings on “Strawberry Fields Forever” – is a very odd voice, in the sense that it seems to be celebrating but almost mourning at the same time. There’s a quality of mourning to his voice, which is very enigmatic. – Alasdair MacLean • Kid 1: *examining my gorgeous strawberry and blueberry pies*: Wow, Mom, your pies don’t look awful this time. Me (Ilona): … ~A little later~ Kid 2: *wandering into the kitchen* Kid 1: Hey, you’ve got to see these pies. *opening the stove* Kid 2: Wow. They are not ugly this time. Kid 1: I know, right? – Ilona Andrews • Late February, and the air’s so balmy snowdrops and crocuses might be fooled into early blooming. Then, the inevitable blizzard will come, blighting our harbingers of spring, and the numbed yards will go back undercover. In Florida, it’s strawberry season- shortcake, waffles, berries and cream will be penciled on the coffeeshop menus. – Gail Mazur • Maybe we too busy being flowers or fairies or strawberries instead of something honest and worthy of respect . . . you know . . . like being people. – Toni Cade Bambara • Morning. Strawberry sky dusted with white winter powder sugar sun. And nobody to munch on it with – Francesca Lia Block • My family lived off the land and summer evening meals featured baked stuffed tomatoes, potato salad, corn on the cob, fresh shelled peas and homemade ice cream with strawberries from our garden. With no air conditioning in those days, the cool porch was the center of our universe after the scorching days. – David Mixner • My grandma used to make syrup for us because we couldn’t afford it and I just played around with her recipe. I made strawberry syrup and that didn’t really work out but I made strawberry-vanilla and that sold. Then I just went out and took marketing classes, went to seminars, learned about marketing a product and striking deals. It ended up taking orders of $1.5 million. – Farrah Gray • My guiltiest pleasure is… chocolates with strawberry cream and trashy television – ‘Geordie Shore,’ ‘Katie,’ etc. – Ellie Goulding • My mom wouldn’t let me sing ‘Strawberry Wine’ because it had ‘wine’ in it. – Avril Lavigne • My perfect last meal would be: shrimp cocktail, lasagna, steak, creamed spinach, salad with bleu cheese dressing, onion rings, garlic bread, and a dessert of strawberry shortcake. – Joan Rivers • Oh, the strawberries don’t taste as they used to and the thighs of women have lost their clutch! – John Steinbeck • Once upon a time, when men and women hurtled through the air on metal wings, when they wore webbed feet and walked on the bottom of the sea, learning the speech of whales and the songs of the dolphins, when pearly-fleshed and jewelled apparitions of Texan herdsmen and houris shimmered in the dusk on Nicaraguan hillsides, when folk in Norway and Tasmania in dead of winter could dream of fresh strawberries, dates, guavas and passion fruits and find them spread next morning on their tables, there was a woman who was largely irrelevant, and therefore happy. – A. S. Byatt • One must ask children and birds how cherries and strawberries taste. – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe • One of the joys our technological civilization has lost is the excitement with which seasonal flowers and fruits were welcomed; the first daffodil, strawberry or cherry are now things of the past, along with their precious moment of arrival. Even the tangerine — now a satsuma or clementine — appears de-pipped months before Christmas. – Derek Jarman • Only in Texas can mesquite have its own festival, then there’s a crawfish festival, a festival for strawberries, everything has its own festival, with each town having their own yearly thing. – Kevin Fowler • P.S. May, don’t these strawberry tarts just make you want to cry? – Kiera Cass • Personally I am very fond of strawberries and cream, but I have found that for some strange reason, fish prefer worms. So when I went fishing, I didn’t think about what I wanted. I thought about what they wanted. I didn’t bait the hook with strawberries and cream. Rather, I dangled a worm or grasshopper in front of the fish and said: “Wouldn’t you like to have that?” Why not use the same common sense when fishing for people? – Dale Carnegie • Poetry and music are very good friends. Like mommies and daddies and strawberries and cream – they go together. – Nikki Giovanni • Rice and peas fit into that category of dishes where two ordinary foods, combined together, ignite a pleasure far beyond the capacity of either of its parts alone. Like rhubarb and strawberries, apple pie and cheese, roast pork and sage, the two tastes and textures meld together into the sort of subtle transcendental oneness that we once fantasized would be our experience when we finally found the ideal mate. – John Thorne • Right now I just want to chill for a while. Take a hiatus from all the craziness. To clean my house, see my family. Just see some movies and pick some strawberries. – Lauren Ambrose • She has a laugh so hearty it knocks the whipped cream off an order of strawberry shortcake on a table fifty feet away. – Damon Runyon • She makes use of the soft of the bread for a napkin. She falls asleep at times with shoes on, on unmade beds. When a little money comes in, June buys delicacies, strawberries in the winter, caviar and bath salts. – Anais Nin • Some people tell you you should not drink claret after strawberries. They are wrong. – William Maginn • Sometimes you’ve just got to grab an apple – or grapes, or strawberries. Something that’s healthy but maybe a little bit more adventurous, if you can see fruit as adventurous. – LL Cool J • Soon to come in licorice, orange, cinnamon, and banana, but not strawberry, because I hate strawberries. – Terry Pratchett • Spring is super in the supermarkets and the strawberries prance and glow never mind that they’re all kinda tart and tasteless as strawberries go meanwhile wild things are not for sale anymore than they are for show so i’ll be outside, in love with the kind of beauty it takes more than eyes to know – Ani DiFranco • Strawberries that in gardens grow Are plump and juicy fine, But sweeter far as wise men know Spring from the woodland vine. No need for bowl or silver spoon, Sugar or spice or cream, Has the wild berry plucked in June Beside the trickling stream. One such to melt at the tongue’s root, Confounding taste with scent, Beats a full peck of garden fruit: Which points my argument. – Robert Graves • Strawberry fields forever – John Lennon • Strawberry Fields is anywhere you want to go – John Lennon • Strawberry Shortcake called, she wants her outfit back – Ilona Andrews • Talking of Pleasure, this moment I was writing with one hand, and with the other holding to my Mouth a Nectarine – how good how fine. It went down all pulpy, slushy, oozy, all its delicious embonpoint melted down my throat like a large, beatified Strawberry. – John Keats • Tell me I didn’t imagine it, Leo. Tell me that even though our bodies were in seperate states, our star selves shared an enchanted place. Tell me that right around noon today (eastern time) you had the strangest sensation: a tiny chill on your shoulder…a flutter in the heart…a shadow of strawberry-banana crossing your tongue…tell me you whispered my name. – Jerry Spinelli • Tell you what I like the best – ‘Long about knee-deep in June, ‘Bout the time strawberries melts On the vine, – some afternoon Like to jes’ git out and rest, And not work at nothin’ else! – James Whitcomb Riley • That pipe, just so happens to lead to the room where I make the most delicious flavored chocolate covered fudge.” Then he will be made into strawberry flavoered chocolate covered fudge, they’ll be selling him by the pound, all over the world!” No, I wouldn’t allow it. The taste would be terrible. Can you imagine Augustus flavored chocolate covered gloop? Ew. No one would buy it. – Johnny Depp • The days were sunny, the nights were star-studded. Indeed married life was strawberries for breakfast and loving all the time. – Marabel Morgan • The mystery of God touches us – or does not – in the smallest details: giving a strawberry, with love; receiving a touch, with love; sharing the snapdragon red of an autumn sunset, with love. – Marion Woodman • The night is a strawberry. – Louise Penny • The only vampires I’ve ever seen are the Goths trying to get a glimpse of Anne Rice’s house, who drink strawberry sodas and tell each other it’s blood. – Sherrilyn Kenyon • The police are asking through the bedroom door, why did I make a batch of strawberry daiquiris before I called them? Because we were out of raspberries. Because, can’t they see, it just does not matter. Time was not of the essence. – Chuck Palahniuk • The public never appears to tire of endless courses of strawberries and cream, and the theory that you run the risk of boring people with endless photo montages of the Chelsea Pensioners in their dress reds, or close-ups of a Pimm’s Cup sprouting all kinda of flora, has yet to be proven. People like Wimbledon in the same way they like blue jeans or even their own spouses: for the pleasure yielded by their reliable sameness. – Peter Bodo • The strawberry grows underneath the nettle And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best Neighbour’d by fruit of baser quality. – William Shakespeare • The thing I learned is that the work is getting done by people who dig in and work on a particular project: the people who spend 20 years sustaining a theater for black teenagers in Chicago; the people who reintroduce sticklebacks into Strawberry Creek in Berkeley and then wait patiently for the first egrets to show up. – Robert Hass • Theirs [the Beatles] is a happy, cocky, belligerently resourceless brand of harmonic primitivism… In the Liverpudlian repertoire, the indulged amateurishness of the musical material, though closely rivaled by the indifference of the performing style, is actually surpassed only by the ineptitude of the studio production method. (Strawberry Fields suggests a chance encounter at a mountain wedding between Claudio Monteverdi and a jug band.) – Glenn Gould • There are certain products that it’s worth buying organic just because the alternatives have so much pesticide. There’s a list of the dirty dozen that you can get off the Web. Strawberries, potatoes. A handful of crops that have very high pesticide residues if you don’t buy organic. If you eat that a lot, that’s a good place to invest. – Michael Pollan • There is a tradition in Southern cooking of recipes handed down for generations. And when I make my grandmother’s strawberry pie I feel her right with me. – Kimberly Schlapman • There is nothing particularly wrong with salmon, of course, but like caramel candy, strawberry yogurt, or liquid carpet cleaner, if you eat too much of it you are not going to enjoy your meal. – Daniel Handler • There was a tale he had read once, long ago, as a small boy: the story of a traveler who had slipped down a cliff, with man-eating tigers above him and a lethal fall below him, who managed to stop his fall halfway down the side of the cliff, holding on for dear life. There was a clump of strawberries beside him, and certain death above him and below. What should he do? went the question. And the reply was, Eat the strawberries. The story had never made sense to him as a boy. It did now. – Neil Gaiman • There’s nothing more satisfying than going to a market and meeting the person who picked the strawberries, or it’s their farm that the strawberries came from, and giving them a fair value in exchange for what they’re giving you. – Billy Corgan • This is really good,” Donovan Caine said, attacking his third strawberry pancake. “You sound surprised,” I said. He shrugged. “I just didn’t think an assassin would be able to cook like this.” “Well, I do get lots of practice with knives. You could say I’m multitasking.” The detective froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. “I’m kidding. I enjoy cooking. It relaxes me. – Jennifer Estep • This Mayagüez gold, my third consecutive with the national team, has a strawberry flavor. – Milagros Cabral • This special feeling towards fruit, its glory and abundance, is I would say universal…. We respond to strawberry fields or cherry orchards with a delight that a cabbage patch or even an elegant vegetable garden cannot provoke. – Jane Grigson • Today While the blossoms still cling to the vine I’ll taste your strawberries I’ll drink your sweet wine A million tomorrows shall all pass away Here I forget all the joy that is mine. Today I’ll be a dandy and I’ll be a rover You know who I am by the songs that I sing I’ll feast at your table I’ll sleep in your clover Who cares what tomorrow shall bring I can’t be contented with yesterday’s glory I can’t live on promises winter to spring Today is my moment and now is my story I’ll laugh and I’ll cry and I’ll sing – John Denver • Truth out of season was sourer than strawberries at Christmas time. – Eleanor Hallowell Abbott • Under the pink Harlequin sunglasses strawberry dangling charms, and sugar-frosted eyeshadow she was really almost beautiful. – Francesca Lia Block • Washington state’s 2nd Congressional District is a major producer of small fruit crops such as raspberries and strawberries. This research center is doing important work to help farmers enhance the quality, yield and marketability of their small fruit crops. – Rick Larsen • We did make use, from time to time, of candles, neckties, scarves, shoelaces, a little water-color paintbrush, her hairbrush, butter, whipped cream, strawberry jam, Johnson’s Baby Oil, my Swedish hand vibrator, a fascinating bead necklace she had, miscellaneous common household items, and every molecule of flesh that was exposed to air or could be located with strenuous search. – Spider Robinson • We do not rejoice in victories. We rejoice when a new kind of cotton is grown and when strawberries bloom in Israel. – Golda Meir • We may say of angling, as Dr. Boteler said of strawberries, Doubtless God could have made a better berry, but doubtless God never did; and so, if I might be judge, God never did make a more calm, quiet, innocent recreation than angling. – Izaak Walton • What do we look for as reward? Some little sounds, and scents, and scenes A small hand darting strawberry-ward A woman’s aprons full of greens. The sense that we have brought to birth Out of the cold and heavy soil, The blessed fruits and flowers of earth Is large reward for our toil. – Ruth Pitter • When I think back about my immediate reaction to that redheads girl, it seems to spring from an appreciation of natural beauty. I mean the heart pleasure you get from looking at speckled leaves or the palimpsested bark of plane trees in Provence. There was something richly appealing to her color combination, the ginger snaps floating in the milk-white skin, the golden highlights in the strawberry hair. it was like autumn, looking at her. It was like driving up north to see the colors. – Jeffrey Eugenides • When strawberries go begging, and the sleek Blue plums lie open to the blackbird’s beak, We shall live well–we shall live very well. – Elinor Wylie • Who puts strawberries in a salad? Seriously, is this a thing now? Is it a thing I don’t know about? Is it an American thing? It can be. It’s freaking me out. – James Corden • Why did she give up wine for Lent? Polly was more sensible. She had given up strawberry jam. Cecilia had never seen Polly show more than a passing interest in strawberry jam, although now, of course, she was always catching her standing at the open fridge, staring at it longingly. The power of denial. – Liane Moriarty • Why the hell are we conditioned into the smooth strawberry-and-cream Mother-Goose-world, Alice-in-Wonderland fable, only to be broken on the wheel as we grow older and become aware of ourselves as individuals with a dull responsibility in life? – Sylvia Plath • You’ve gotta taste the light, like my friend and fellow shooter Chip Maury says. And when you see light like this, trust me, it’s like a strawberry sundae with sprinkles. – Joe McNally

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Strawberries Quotes

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• A field trip. You interested in doing something dangerous, and possibly illegal?” Does it involve underage girls, broken curfews and soorte4d fruit toppings?” I dropped the empty can into the recycling bin and leaned against the kitchen peninsula, grinning like an idiot. “Two of the three. And I could probably scrounge up some strawberry jam, if you’re desperate.” “I’m never desperate,” Tod said, only his voice hadn’t come from my phone. I whirled around to see the reaper standing behind me, still holding his cell. “But for the record, I prefer apricot.” “Yuck. Nobody likes apricot jam. – Rachel Vincent • A girl told me my lips looked like somebody had pressed strawberry yogurt against my face. – Katherine Heigl • A man traveling across a field encountered a tiger. He fled, the tiger after him. Coming to a precipice, he caught hold of the root of a wild vine and swung himself down over the edge. The tiger sniffed at him from above. Trembling, the man looked down to where, far below, another tiger was waiting to eat him. Only the vine sustained him. Two mice, one white and one black, little by little started to gnaw away the vine. The man saw a luscious strawberry near him. Grasping the vine with one hand, he plucked the strawberry with the other. How sweet it tasted! – Gautama Buddha • A man was found dead covered in sprinkles, strawberry sauce and a flake. Reports said he may have topped himself. – Frank Carson • A red rose peeping through a white? Or else a cherry (double graced) Within a lily? Centre placed? Or ever marked the pretty beam, A strawberry shows, half drowned in cream? Or seen rich rubies blushing through A pure smooth pearl, and orient too? So like to this, nay all the rest, Is each neat niplet of her breast. – Ovid • a salesman is an it that stinks to please but whether to please itself or someone else makes no more difference than if it sells hate condoms education snakeoil vac uumcleaners terror strawberries democ ra(caveat emptor)cy superfluous hair – e. e. cummings • A typical Irish dinner would be: cream flavored with lobster, cream with bits of veal in it, green peas and cream, cream cheese, cream flavored with strawberries. – Nancy Mitford • A white truffle, which elsewhere might sell for hundreds of dollars, seemed easier to come by than something fresh and green. What could be got from the woods was free and amounted to a diurnal dining diary that everyone kept in their heads. May was wild asparagus, arugula, and artichokes. June was wild lettuce and stinging nettles. July was cherries and wild strawberries. August was forest berries. September was porcini. – Bill Buford • About one thing the Englishman has a particularly strict code. If a bird says Cluk bik bik bik bik and caw you may kill it, eat it or ask Fortnums to pickle it in Napoleon brandy with wild strawberries. If it says tweet it is a dear and precious friend and you’d better lay off it if you want to remain a member of Boodles. – Clement Freud • All schools, all colleges, have two great functions: to confer, and to conceal, valuable knowledge. The theological knowledge which they conceal cannot justly be regarded as less valuable than that which they reveal. That is, when a man is buying a basket of strawberries it can profit him to know that the bottom half of it is rotten. – Mark Twain • All this talkin’ about eatin’ is makin’ me awful hungry. I’ll have two chili burgers with an order of fries, onion rings and a chocolate milk shake. And a Strawberry Ice Cream Sundae-with pickles. – George Lindsey • And a refrigerator may hold a basket of strawberries, which would be important if a maniac said to you, “If you don’t give me a basket of strawberries right now, I’m going to poke you with this large stick.” But when the two elder Baudelaires and Quigley Quagmire opened the refrigerator, they found nothing that would help someone who was wounded, dying of thirst, or being threatened by a strawberry-crazed, stick-carrying maniac. – Daniel Handler • And now — now it only remains for me to light a cigarette and go home. Dear God, only now am I remembering that people die. Does that include me? Don’t forget, in the meantime, that this is the season for strawberries. Yes. – Clarice Lispector • And when my body shall cease, my soul will still be yours, Claire? I swear by my hope of heaven, I will not be parted from you.” The wind stirred the leaves of the chestnut trees nearby, and the scents of late summer rose up rich around us; pine and grass and strawberries, sun-warmed stone and cool water, and the sharp, musky smell of his body next to mine. “Nothing is lost, Sassenach; only changed.” “That’s the first law of thermodynamics,” I said, wiping my nose. “No,” he said. “That’s faith. – Diana Gabaldon • Any chance of getting something sweet to go with my coffee?” [Finn] asked in a hopeful voice. I arched an eyebrow at him. “You mean all those pieces of strawberry pie that you ate for lunch weren’t enough?” “I’m a growing boy,” Finn said in a sincere tone. “I need my vitamins.” Bria snorted. “The only thing that’s growing on you, Lane, is your ego.” Finn sidled up to my sister and gave her a dazzling smile. “Well, other things of mine also tend to swell up in your presence, detective. – Jennifer Estep • Anyone who imagines that all fruits ripen at the same time as the strawberries knows nothing about grapes. – Paracelsus • Are you going to give a speech?’ she asked gaily. He gave a choked laugh. ‘Of course not,’ he said. ‘Not for ages.’ ‘My cousin Davey gave one on his very first day!’ … ‘In the Lords, I remember. It was about how he didn’t like strawberry jam.’ ‘Be nice, Charles! It was a speech about fruit importation, which I admit devolved into something of a tirade.’ She couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Still, you could talk about something more important.’ ‘Than jam? Impossible. We mustn’t set the bar too high, Jane. – Charles Finch • As our lives speed up more and more, so do our children’s. We forget and thus they forget that there is nothing more important than the present moment. We forget and thus they forget to relax, to find spiritual solitude, to let go of the past, to quiet ambition, to fully enjoy the eating of a strawberry, the scent of a rose, the touch of a hand on a cheek… – Michael Gurian • Ask of Her, the mighty Mother. Her reply puts this other Question: What is Spring?- Growth in every thing –

Flesh and fleece, fur and feather, Grass and green world all together, Star-eyed strawberry breasted Throstle above Her nested

Cluster of bugle blue eggs thin Forms and warms the life within, And bird and blossom swell In sod or sheath or shell. – Gerard Manley Hopkins • Asking me what I think of Oscar (Hammerstein) is like asking me what I think of the Yankees, Man o’ War and Strawberry Sundaes. – Billy Rose • Assumptions are dangerous things to make, and like all dangerous things to make – bombs, for instance, or strawberry shortcake – if you make even the tiniest mistake you can find yourself in terrible trouble. – Daniel Handler

jQuery(document).ready(function($) var data = action: 'polyxgo_products_search', type: 'Product', keywords: 'Strawberr', orderby: 'rand', order: 'DESC', template: '1', limit: '68', columns: '4', viewall:'Shop All', ; jQuery.post(spyr_params.ajaxurl,data, function(response) var obj = jQuery.parseJSON(response); jQuery('#thelovesof_strawberr').html(obj); jQuery('#thelovesof_strawberr img.swiper-lazy:not(.swiper-lazy-loaded)' ).each(function () var img = jQuery(this); img.attr("src",img.data('src')); img.addClass( 'swiper-lazy-loaded' ); img.removeAttr('data-src'); ); ); ); • Blueberries, strawberries and blackberries are true super foods. Naturally sweet and juicy, berries are low in sugar and high in nutrients – they are among the best foods you can eat. – Joel Fuhrman • Bonnie who had never hurt a – a harmless thing for malice. Bonnie who was like a kitten making airy pounces at no prey at all. Bonnie with her hair that was called something strawberry but that looked simply as if it was on fire. Bonnie of the translucent skin with the delicate violet fjords and estuaries of veins all over her throat and inner arms. Bonnie who had lately taken to looking at him sideways with her large childlike eyes big and brown under lashes like stars… – L. J. Smith • But don’t forget, in the meantime, that this is the season for strawberries. Yes. – Clarice Lispector • But I’d like the pie heated and I don’t want the ice cream on top I want it on the side and I’d like strawberry instead of vanilla if you have it if not then no ice cream just whipped cream but only if it’s real if it’s out of a can then nothing.- Meg Ryan

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• Cold Mountain Buddhas Han Shan Wait without thought, for you are not ready for thought: So the darkness shall be the light, and the stillness be dancing. Whisper of running streams, and winter lightning. The wild thyme unseen and the wild strawberry, The laughter in the garden, echoed ecstasy Not lost, but requiring, pointing to the agony Of death and birth. – T. S. Eliot • Darryl Strawberry has been voted to the Hall of Fame five years in a row. – Ralph Kiner • Dating a new man is like holding a strawberry milkshake; first the taste, then the pleasure. – Marilyn Monroe • Doubtless God Could Have Made A Better Berry, But Doubtless God Never Did – Izaak Walton • Dried oregano has thirty times the brain-healing antioxidant power of raw blueberries, forty-six times more than apples, and fifty-six times as much as strawberries, making it one of the most powerful brain cell protectors on the planet. – Daniel Amen • Each moment is just what it is. It might be the only moment of our life; it might be the only strawberry we’ll ever eat. We could get depressed about it, or we could finally appreciate it and delight in the preciousness of every single moment of our life. – Pema Chodron • Eat more berries. Blueberries, strawberries, raspberries and other varieties have anthocyanins that can help reverse some loss of balance and memory associated with aging. – David H. Murdock • Eating alone is a disappointment. But not eating matter more, is hollow and green, has thorns like a chain of fish hooks, trailing from the heart, clawing at your insides. Hunger feels like pincers, like the bite of crabs; it burns, burns, and has no fur. Let us sit down soon to eat with all those who haven’t eaten; let us spread great tablecloths, put salt in lakes of the world, set up planetary bakeries, tables with strawberries in snow, and a plate like the moon itself from which we can all eat. For now I ask no more than the justice of eating. – Pablo Neruda • Every child should have mud pies, grasshoppers, water bugs, tadpoles, frogs, mud turtles, elderberries, wild strawberries, acorns, chestnuts, trees to climb. Brooks to wade, water lilies, woodchucks, bats, bees, butterflies, various animals to pet, hayfields, pine-cones, rocks to roll, sand, snakes, huckleberries and hornets; and any child who has been deprived of these has been deprived of the best part of education. – Luther Burbank • Everyone thinks you’ve been kidnapped,” he said. “We’ve been scouring the ship. When Coach Hedge finds out- oh, gods, you’ve been here all night?” “Frank!” Annabeth’s ears were as red as strawberries. “We just came down here to talk. We fell asleep. Accidentally. That’s it.” “Kissed a couple of times,” Percy said. Annabeth glared at him. “Not helping! – Rick Riordan • For those dependent on their gardens for fresh food, it was often a case of feast or famine… (One settler wrote), “Strawberries were now so plentiful that… I made 287 lbs of jam…” – Bee Dawson • Gooseberries should be mainstream berries! Why are chemically fattened strawberries a thing? Why not the delicious gooseberry? – Andrew Dost • Grapes are juicy. Strawberries. Oranges. Good pork chops are succulent,” said Dusty. “But the word isn’t accurately descriptive of a person.” Smiling with delight, Ahriman said, “Oh, really, not accurately descriptive? Be careful housepainter. Your genes are showing. What if I were a cannibal? – Dean Koontz • Happiness, I have grasped, is a destination, like strawberry Fields. Once you find the way in, there you are, and you’ll never feel low again. – Rachel Simon • He (Darryl Strawberry) is not a dog; a dog is loyal and runs after balls. – Tommy Lasorda • He had kissed her good night that night, and she had tasted like strawberry daiquiris, and he had never wanted to kiss anyone else again. – Neil Gaiman • Her hair was strawberry blond, and she had the shape of a popsicle stick: turn her sideways and she practically disappeared. – Becca Fitzpatrick • Hey baby. You’re sexy like a chocolate strawberry. – Ronnie Shields • I actually think the same things do make most people happy. The differences are extremely small, and around the margins. You like peach ice cream; I like strawberry ice cream. Both of us like ice cream much better than a smack on the head with two-by-four. – Daniel Gilbert • I also eat fruit instead of drinking juices. That’s something I’ve read up on. I think that if you drink a lot of fruit juice you take in way too much sugar. You’d be better off eating a bunch of strawberries or apples. – Kris Humphries • I don’t like it when people ask me what my favourite Beatles song is. I always get that. First of all, I don’t like having to pick a favourite thing anyway. You can’t pick a favourite Beatles song! What about “Strawberry Fields”? What about “Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds”? What about “Tomorrow Never Knows”? Come on. That question is small minded to think you could even have a favourite Beatles song. – Kemp Muhl • I eat a huge breakfast every morning – it’s what I look forward to. I’ll do steel-cut oatmeal with blueberries and strawberries, an egg white scramble with mushrooms, zucchini, and onion, and a piece of cinnamon Ezekiel bread with almond butter. I could do that every single day. – Heather Mitts • I finally found something that can stop the fox. The fox cannot summit Strawberry Hill.” – Takumi – John Green • I found a strawberry blossom in a rock. I uprooted it rashly and felt as if I had been committing an outrage, so I planted it again. – Dorothy Wordsworth • I found a strawberry blossom in a rock. The little slender flower had more courage than the green leaves, for they were but half expanded and half grown, but the blossom was spread full out. I uprooted it rashly, and I felt as if I had been committing an outrage, so I planted it again. It will have but a stormy life of it, but let it live if it can. – Dorothy Wordsworth • I grow vegetables – I’m a vegetarian; I’ve got strawberries, artichokes, leeks, broad beans. – Anita Pallenberg • I guess I’ve been waiting so long I’m looking for perfection. That makes it tough. Waiting for perfect love? No, even I know better than that. I’m looking for selfishness. Like, say I tell you I want to eat strawberry shortcake. And you stop everything you’re doing and run out and buy it for me. And you come back out of breath and get down on your knees and hold this strawberry shortcake out to me. And I say I don’t want it anymore and throw it out the window. That’s what I’m looking for.” – Haruki Murakami • I have been 130 lbs. as well as 215 lbs. I have had blond, strawberry blond, green, pink and purple hair, and none of that has ever exempted me from having lewd comments flung at me in the street. – Beth Ditto • I have only to break into the tightness of a strawberry, and I see summer – its dust and lowering skies. – Toni Morrison • I like a much more Japanese style of blood, where it’s red and it almost has a paint kind of quality to it. You can put it on metal, and it has this vividness. Because, normally, what they use in Hollywood is this stuff that looks like strawberry pancake syrup or raspberry pancake syrup. – Quentin Tarantino • I like to make pies. Thats kind of my new obsession – peach, blueberry, apple, strawberry. I make a really good pumpkin pie with real pumpkin. – Morgan Saylor • I love berries. Strawberries, blueberries, raspberries, black berries, anything with an ‘errie’ in it! – Jordin Sparks • I love surprises – champagne and strawberries, all that pampering, romantic stuff. Guys ought to know how to pamper their women properly. – Danica McKellar • I may never be happy, but tonight I am content. Nothing more than an empty house, the warm hazy weariness from a day spent setting strawberry runners in the sun, a glass of cool sweet milk, and a shallow dish of blueberries bathed in cream. When one is so tired at the end of a day one must sleep, and at the next dawn there are more strawberry runners to set, and so one goes on living, near the earth. At times like this I’d call myself a fool to ask for more. – Sylvia Plath • I recycle. I have a house in the south of France and I have a small garden. My name is Dujardin – ‘from the garden.’ I grow carrots, peppers, strawberries, green beans, and things for salads, but there are lots of wild boars all around and they steal the food. – Jean Dujardin • I think drugs are like strawberries and peaches. – Edie Sedgwick • I think drugs are like strawberries and peaches..There’s no way to tell anyone who hasn’t been through it, there’s no way to explain it to anyone who hasn’t tasted it . To keep that superlative high, just on the cusp of each day, so that I radiate sunshine – Edie Sedgwick • I think he became a man who brought peace and wisdom to hi world, because he knew about war and folly. I think that he loved greatly, because he had seen what lost love is. And I think he came to know, too, that he was loved greatly.” She looked at the strawberry in her hands. “But I thought you didn’t want me to tell you your future. – Gary D. Schmidt • I think once I made up my mind that I was allergic to alcohol, and that’s what I learned, it made sense to me. And I think it was kind of pointed out that you know if you were allergic to strawberries, you wouldn’t eat strawberries. And that made sense to me. – Betty Ford • I want you to make u and go halfzies on this cake. K? But. . . I want a piece too, so i guess we’ll have to go thirdzies. . . Awwww, we’re not going to be able to split the strawberry on top though. What should we do? Maybe I should just take it after all strawberries are my favorite. . . oh! I forgot to ask Hiku-chan, Kau-chan do you like strawberries? -Hunny – Bisco Hatori • I would be lying if I said I cut out all dessert. When Im training, I try to satisfy those cravings with a slightly healthier dessert, like a piece of dark chocolate or whipped cream and strawberries. Those are two of my favorites! – Josie Loren • If ‘heartache’ sounds exaggerated then surely you have never gone to your garden one rare morning in June to find that the frost, without any perceptible motive, any hope of personal gain, has quietly killed your strawberry blossoms, tomatoes, lima and green beans, corn, squash, cucumbers. A brilliant sun is now smiling at this disaster with an insenstive cheerfulness as out of place as a funny story would be if someone you loved had just died. – Ruth Stout • If I can’t serve on grass, I can maybe help cut the grass, paint the lines and serve some strawberries. – Goran Ivanisevic • If I want to make – I don’t know – strawberry jam, I’m going to have to add something to strawberries to make it gelatinous and thick, right? I’m going to have to add pectin or something like that.But if I want to make cranberry sauce, all I have to do is pop some cranberries in a little saucepan and when it cools off, it’ll be thick and gelatinous. So what’s up with cranberries? – Ari Shapiro • If you get vegetables in season, the difference is remarkable compared to vegetables that might have been imported. You can’t beat fresh ingredients and seasonal fresh ingredients. There’s nothing quite like the taste of a beautiful summer strawberry. – William Katt • If you keep my secret, this strawberry is yours. – Tsugumi Ohba • I’ll be clickin’ by your house about two forty-five, Sidewalk Sundae Strawberry Surprise. – Tom Waits • I’ll give you this strawberry if you keep it a secret. –L (Death Note) – Tsugumi Ohba • In Bakersfield, California, a Mexican strawberry picker with an income of $14,000 and no English was lent every penny he needed to buy a house for $724,000. – Michael Lewis • in her dreams, blood tasted like fizzy strawberry soda. If you drank it too fast, you got brain freeze. When she was older, after she’d licked a cut on her finger, the taste of that became the taste in her dreams: copper and tears. – Holly Black • Instead of past, present and future, I’d prefer chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry. – Ashleigh Brilliant • It’s just another of Robin’s sayings. Like, ‘Holy strawberries, Batman, we’re in a jam! Or, Holy Kleenex, Batman, it was right under our nose and we blew it! – Karen Marie Moning • It’s unarguable to say that every one of us has been moved by the beauty of what I have called snapshots, but for photographers they are charms and proverbs, and like lightening or wild strawberries. – Tod Papageorge • I’ve got it all in here ultra violets, flying saucers, strawberry bootlace come on get involved. – Noel Fielding • John [Lennon] as a singer – the way he sings on “Twist and Shout” and the way he sings on “Strawberry Fields Forever” – is a very odd voice, in the sense that it seems to be celebrating but almost mourning at the same time. There’s a quality of mourning to his voice, which is very enigmatic. – Alasdair MacLean • Kid 1: *examining my gorgeous strawberry and blueberry pies*: Wow, Mom, your pies don’t look awful this time. Me (Ilona): … ~A little later~ Kid 2: *wandering into the kitchen* Kid 1: Hey, you’ve got to see these pies. *opening the stove* Kid 2: Wow. They are not ugly this time. Kid 1: I know, right? – Ilona Andrews • Late February, and the air’s so balmy snowdrops and crocuses might be fooled into early blooming. Then, the inevitable blizzard will come, blighting our harbingers of spring, and the numbed yards will go back undercover. In Florida, it’s strawberry season- shortcake, waffles, berries and cream will be penciled on the coffeeshop menus. – Gail Mazur • Maybe we too busy being flowers or fairies or strawberries instead of something honest and worthy of respect . . . you know . . . like being people. – Toni Cade Bambara • Morning. Strawberry sky dusted with white winter powder sugar sun. And nobody to munch on it with – Francesca Lia Block • My family lived off the land and summer evening meals featured baked stuffed tomatoes, potato salad, corn on the cob, fresh shelled peas and homemade ice cream with strawberries from our garden. With no air conditioning in those days, the cool porch was the center of our universe after the scorching days. – David Mixner • My grandma used to make syrup for us because we couldn’t afford it and I just played around with her recipe. I made strawberry syrup and that didn’t really work out but I made strawberry-vanilla and that sold. Then I just went out and took marketing classes, went to seminars, learned about marketing a product and striking deals. It ended up taking orders of $1.5 million. – Farrah Gray • My guiltiest pleasure is… chocolates with strawberry cream and trashy television – ‘Geordie Shore,’ ‘Katie,’ etc. – Ellie Goulding • My mom wouldn’t let me sing ‘Strawberry Wine’ because it had ‘wine’ in it. – Avril Lavigne • My perfect last meal would be: shrimp cocktail, lasagna, steak, creamed spinach, salad with bleu cheese dressing, onion rings, garlic bread, and a dessert of strawberry shortcake. – Joan Rivers • Oh, the strawberries don’t taste as they used to and the thighs of women have lost their clutch! – John Steinbeck • Once upon a time, when men and women hurtled through the air on metal wings, when they wore webbed feet and walked on the bottom of the sea, learning the speech of whales and the songs of the dolphins, when pearly-fleshed and jewelled apparitions of Texan herdsmen and houris shimmered in the dusk on Nicaraguan hillsides, when folk in Norway and Tasmania in dead of winter could dream of fresh strawberries, dates, guavas and passion fruits and find them spread next morning on their tables, there was a woman who was largely irrelevant, and therefore happy. – A. S. Byatt • One must ask children and birds how cherries and strawberries taste. – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe • One of the joys our technological civilization has lost is the excitement with which seasonal flowers and fruits were welcomed; the first daffodil, strawberry or cherry are now things of the past, along with their precious moment of arrival. Even the tangerine — now a satsuma or clementine — appears de-pipped months before Christmas. – Derek Jarman • Only in Texas can mesquite have its own festival, then there’s a crawfish festival, a festival for strawberries, everything has its own festival, with each town having their own yearly thing. – Kevin Fowler • P.S. May, don’t these strawberry tarts just make you want to cry? – Kiera Cass • Personally I am very fond of strawberries and cream, but I have found that for some strange reason, fish prefer worms. So when I went fishing, I didn’t think about what I wanted. I thought about what they wanted. I didn’t bait the hook with strawberries and cream. Rather, I dangled a worm or grasshopper in front of the fish and said: “Wouldn’t you like to have that?” Why not use the same common sense when fishing for people? – Dale Carnegie • Poetry and music are very good friends. Like mommies and daddies and strawberries and cream – they go together. – Nikki Giovanni • Rice and peas fit into that category of dishes where two ordinary foods, combined together, ignite a pleasure far beyond the capacity of either of its parts alone. Like rhubarb and strawberries, apple pie and cheese, roast pork and sage, the two tastes and textures meld together into the sort of subtle transcendental oneness that we once fantasized would be our experience when we finally found the ideal mate. – John Thorne • Right now I just want to chill for a while. Take a hiatus from all the craziness. To clean my house, see my family. Just see some movies and pick some strawberries. – Lauren Ambrose • She has a laugh so hearty it knocks the whipped cream off an order of strawberry shortcake on a table fifty feet away. – Damon Runyon • She makes use of the soft of the bread for a napkin. She falls asleep at times with shoes on, on unmade beds. When a little money comes in, June buys delicacies, strawberries in the winter, caviar and bath salts. – Anais Nin • Some people tell you you should not drink claret after strawberries. They are wrong. – William Maginn • Sometimes you’ve just got to grab an apple – or grapes, or strawberries. Something that’s healthy but maybe a little bit more adventurous, if you can see fruit as adventurous. – LL Cool J • Soon to come in licorice, orange, cinnamon, and banana, but not strawberry, because I hate strawberries. – Terry Pratchett • Spring is super in the supermarkets and the strawberries prance and glow never mind that they’re all kinda tart and tasteless as strawberries go meanwhile wild things are not for sale anymore than they are for show so i’ll be outside, in love with the kind of beauty it takes more than eyes to know – Ani DiFranco • Strawberries that in gardens grow Are plump and juicy fine, But sweeter far as wise men know Spring from the woodland vine. No need for bowl or silver spoon, Sugar or spice or cream, Has the wild berry plucked in June Beside the trickling stream. One such to melt at the tongue’s root, Confounding taste with scent, Beats a full peck of garden fruit: Which points my argument. – Robert Graves • Strawberry fields forever – John Lennon • Strawberry Fields is anywhere you want to go – John Lennon • Strawberry Shortcake called, she wants her outfit back – Ilona Andrews • Talking of Pleasure, this moment I was writing with one hand, and with the other holding to my Mouth a Nectarine – how good how fine. It went down all pulpy, slushy, oozy, all its delicious embonpoint melted down my throat like a large, beatified Strawberry. – John Keats • Tell me I didn’t imagine it, Leo. Tell me that even though our bodies were in seperate states, our star selves shared an enchanted place. Tell me that right around noon today (eastern time) you had the strangest sensation: a tiny chill on your shoulder…a flutter in the heart…a shadow of strawberry-banana crossing your tongue…tell me you whispered my name. – Jerry Spinelli • Tell you what I like the best – ‘Long about knee-deep in June, ‘Bout the time strawberries melts On the vine, – some afternoon Like to jes’ git out and rest, And not work at nothin’ else! – James Whitcomb Riley • That pipe, just so happens to lead to the room where I make the most delicious flavored chocolate covered fudge.” Then he will be made into strawberry flavoered chocolate covered fudge, they’ll be selling him by the pound, all over the world!” No, I wouldn’t allow it. The taste would be terrible. Can you imagine Augustus flavored chocolate covered gloop? Ew. No one would buy it. – Johnny Depp • The days were sunny, the nights were star-studded. Indeed married life was strawberries for breakfast and loving all the time. – Marabel Morgan • The mystery of God touches us – or does not – in the smallest details: giving a strawberry, with love; receiving a touch, with love; sharing the snapdragon red of an autumn sunset, with love. – Marion Woodman • The night is a strawberry. – Louise Penny • The only vampires I’ve ever seen are the Goths trying to get a glimpse of Anne Rice’s house, who drink strawberry sodas and tell each other it’s blood. – Sherrilyn Kenyon • The police are asking through the bedroom door, why did I make a batch of strawberry daiquiris before I called them? Because we were out of raspberries. Because, can’t they see, it just does not matter. Time was not of the essence. – Chuck Palahniuk • The public never appears to tire of endless courses of strawberries and cream, and the theory that you run the risk of boring people with endless photo montages of the Chelsea Pensioners in their dress reds, or close-ups of a Pimm’s Cup sprouting all kinda of flora, has yet to be proven. People like Wimbledon in the same way they like blue jeans or even their own spouses: for the pleasure yielded by their reliable sameness. – Peter Bodo • The strawberry grows underneath the nettle And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best Neighbour’d by fruit of baser quality. – William Shakespeare • The thing I learned is that the work is getting done by people who dig in and work on a particular project: the people who spend 20 years sustaining a theater for black teenagers in Chicago; the people who reintroduce sticklebacks into Strawberry Creek in Berkeley and then wait patiently for the first egrets to show up. – Robert Hass • Theirs [the Beatles] is a happy, cocky, belligerently resourceless brand of harmonic primitivism… In the Liverpudlian repertoire, the indulged amateurishness of the musical material, though closely rivaled by the indifference of the performing style, is actually surpassed only by the ineptitude of the studio production method. (Strawberry Fields suggests a chance encounter at a mountain wedding between Claudio Monteverdi and a jug band.) – Glenn Gould • There are certain products that it’s worth buying organic just because the alternatives have so much pesticide. There’s a list of the dirty dozen that you can get off the Web. Strawberries, potatoes. A handful of crops that have very high pesticide residues if you don’t buy organic. If you eat that a lot, that’s a good place to invest. – Michael Pollan • There is a tradition in Southern cooking of recipes handed down for generations. And when I make my grandmother’s strawberry pie I feel her right with me. – Kimberly Schlapman • There is nothing particularly wrong with salmon, of course, but like caramel candy, strawberry yogurt, or liquid carpet cleaner, if you eat too much of it you are not going to enjoy your meal. – Daniel Handler • There was a tale he had read once, long ago, as a small boy: the story of a traveler who had slipped down a cliff, with man-eating tigers above him and a lethal fall below him, who managed to stop his fall halfway down the side of the cliff, holding on for dear life. There was a clump of strawberries beside him, and certain death above him and below. What should he do? went the question. And the reply was, Eat the strawberries. The story had never made sense to him as a boy. It did now. – Neil Gaiman • There’s nothing more satisfying than going to a market and meeting the person who picked the strawberries, or it’s their farm that the strawberries came from, and giving them a fair value in exchange for what they’re giving you. – Billy Corgan • This is really good,” Donovan Caine said, attacking his third strawberry pancake. “You sound surprised,” I said. He shrugged. “I just didn’t think an assassin would be able to cook like this.” “Well, I do get lots of practice with knives. You could say I’m multitasking.” The detective froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. “I’m kidding. I enjoy cooking. It relaxes me. – Jennifer Estep • This Mayagüez gold, my third consecutive with the national team, has a strawberry flavor. – Milagros Cabral • This special feeling towards fruit, its glory and abundance, is I would say universal…. We respond to strawberry fields or cherry orchards with a delight that a cabbage patch or even an elegant vegetable garden cannot provoke. – Jane Grigson • Today While the blossoms still cling to the vine I’ll taste your strawberries I’ll drink your sweet wine A million tomorrows shall all pass away Here I forget all the joy that is mine. Today I’ll be a dandy and I’ll be a rover You know who I am by the songs that I sing I’ll feast at your table I’ll sleep in your clover Who cares what tomorrow shall bring I can’t be contented with yesterday’s glory I can’t live on promises winter to spring Today is my moment and now is my story I’ll laugh and I’ll cry and I’ll sing – John Denver • Truth out of season was sourer than strawberries at Christmas time. – Eleanor Hallowell Abbott • Under the pink Harlequin sunglasses strawberry dangling charms, and sugar-frosted eyeshadow she was really almost beautiful. – Francesca Lia Block • Washington state’s 2nd Congressional District is a major producer of small fruit crops such as raspberries and strawberries. This research center is doing important work to help farmers enhance the quality, yield and marketability of their small fruit crops. – Rick Larsen • We did make use, from time to time, of candles, neckties, scarves, shoelaces, a little water-color paintbrush, her hairbrush, butter, whipped cream, strawberry jam, Johnson’s Baby Oil, my Swedish hand vibrator, a fascinating bead necklace she had, miscellaneous common household items, and every molecule of flesh that was exposed to air or could be located with strenuous search. – Spider Robinson • We do not rejoice in victories. We rejoice when a new kind of cotton is grown and when strawberries bloom in Israel. – Golda Meir • We may say of angling, as Dr. Boteler said of strawberries, Doubtless God could have made a better berry, but doubtless God never did; and so, if I might be judge, God never did make a more calm, quiet, innocent recreation than angling. – Izaak Walton • What do we look for as reward? Some little sounds, and scents, and scenes A small hand darting strawberry-ward A woman’s aprons full of greens. The sense that we have brought to birth Out of the cold and heavy soil, The blessed fruits and flowers of earth Is large reward for our toil. – Ruth Pitter • When I think back about my immediate reaction to that redheads girl, it seems to spring from an appreciation of natural beauty. I mean the heart pleasure you get from looking at speckled leaves or the palimpsested bark of plane trees in Provence. There was something richly appealing to her color combination, the ginger snaps floating in the milk-white skin, the golden highlights in the strawberry hair. it was like autumn, looking at her. It was like driving up north to see the colors. – Jeffrey Eugenides • When strawberries go begging, and the sleek Blue plums lie open to the blackbird’s beak, We shall live well–we shall live very well. – Elinor Wylie • Who puts strawberries in a salad? Seriously, is this a thing now? Is it a thing I don’t know about? Is it an American thing? It can be. It’s freaking me out. – James Corden • Why did she give up wine for Lent? Polly was more sensible. She had given up strawberry jam. Cecilia had never seen Polly show more than a passing interest in strawberry jam, although now, of course, she was always catching her standing at the open fridge, staring at it longingly. The power of denial. – Liane Moriarty • Why the hell are we conditioned into the smooth strawberry-and-cream Mother-Goose-world, Alice-in-Wonderland fable, only to be broken on the wheel as we grow older and become aware of ourselves as individuals with a dull responsibility in life? – Sylvia Plath • You’ve gotta taste the light, like my friend and fellow shooter Chip Maury says. And when you see light like this, trust me, it’s like a strawberry sundae with sprinkles. – Joe McNally

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[vhaven93-blog]

Digesting The Divine

DIGESTING THE DIVINE

By Daniel Allen Kelley

"I've fallen down, drunk on your juices."

-Live (Turn My Head)

(1)

IF YOU SWALLOW YOUR PRIDE, IT WILL TASTE LIKE ME!

I awoke this morning as I do most mornings: in the middle of an intense REM cycle. My dreams typically become Lucid during the second and third rounds of REM, and this morning my Lucids were exceptionally vivid. Don't worry! This isn't a long diatribe about my dreams. Rather, this is about what the greater dream of life, and yes, your nightly dreams, have to teach you.

She was seated on a large throne. It looked like it was constructed using fine silver. She was seated on a platform about five feet above me, and a rounded orange staircase was all that stood between us. The room was itself round, or perhaps oval, and walled by a menacing jungle. I stood before this monarch, who was young and very beautiful. She had long black hair and piercing orange eyes. In the center of her head was a small eye, which was closed but restless.

"Noone goes into the jungle and lives. I pray that you remain where you are. Do not move, I will come to you.", she said, in an ethereal but smokey voice. She then slowly rose to her feet and descended the staircase, trailing a white gown that gradually turned black as she neared. I was about to ask, "Who are you?", when suddenly I became aware that I was dreaming. Then, my question became, "What do you represent?" I was shocked by the answer. She stood before me and smiled in a peculiar manner that somehow said, simultaneously, "I will heal you. And I will kill you." She spoke:

"I am the embodied kiss. I am the death that ensures survival. You should be afraid to remain sleeping right now. I am the danger that loves you to death."

She then put her right hand on the back of my neck and kissed me very hard. The thing that shocked me most was that it felt like a very hard splash of cold water. But it was the taste that shocked me most. I can't describe it. It was unlike any taste I can recall experiencing. Perhaps it was a combination of known flavors, and my brain arranged them into a new one. The best I can say is that it was of the flavor of red wine mixed with rain and sugar.

She then whispered in my ear a phrase that's haunted me all day:

"If you swallow your pride, it will taste like me!"

She then kissed me again, only this time I could feel her lips turn to liquid. Then her hand turned to liquid against my neck. Then her body, pressed against me, began to dissolve into liquid and melt into me. Suddenly, I became disoriented. I tried to step back and away from her, but I soon realized, to my horror, that she had become a part of me. Her entire body was gradually liquefying and absorbing into mine!

"What's your name?!", I shouted. My voice sounded strange, as it was filling up with liquid. She answered:

"My name is Fiona."

At that moment, I woke up, but managed to re-enter the dream. This time I was in the jungle, surrounded by strange looking birds of prey. They began swooping down and pecking at my flesh. I could feel every peck as though it were really happening, and I tried to run. All to no avail. The menacing fowl pursued me and continued their assault on my Dream Body. Finally I'd had enough and willed them all to drop dead, which they did.

Then the dream milieu suddenly changed, and I was in a large mall. There were people bustling to and fro, with frightened and anxious expressions on their faces. But the thing that stood out most was my emotional state:

I felt utterly alone…

This profound and nigh unbearable sense of isolation and lack of human connection slowly began to infiltrate my nightly dreams about a year ago. On occasion, I'd wake up with tears streaming down my face, though not audibly sobbing.

Gazing out upon the vast sea of forlorn faces, I decided to let out a primal scream. But not just any scream, no. The words I used were "Weeeeeeeeeeeee are aaaaaaaaaall dying!!!"

To my horror, nobody paid attention. They just kept on scurrying frenetically in every direction.

So I sat down on the floor, closed my eyes, and smiled at my pain. Then, without warning, I turned to liquid and felt myself die.

(2)

DREAMING OF DAYWALKERS

Many mystics throughout history have shared the experience that the wake-a-day world is a dream. This realization has got to be one of the most misunderstood axioms ever stated. To say that life is a dream is to say that most people live as if asleep. And this is probably even literally true to some extent. To awaken inside of reality and realize that you've been dreaming is an experience called by many names. I'm not going to use any of them, because they're all dirty words at this point. They've become part of the collective dream. Suffice it to say that there is an experience that is an Awakening, quite literally, and it comes in stages. In my case, it began when I was young and only recently came to a loggerhead. As it stands now, this Awakening is experienced as a sort of cascade. Initially, I began to notice a coming together of the Wakefulness I experience during sleep and the Wakefulness I experience during the day. This was actually quite unsettling and, like most of my journey, I had to suffer it in silence. The following is a short list of some of the things I regularly experience:

AT NIGHT:

•Chronic nightmares.

•Visions of blinding light.

•Streams of energy coursing through my body.

•Loud gunshots in the center of my skull

•Sensations of being groped, poked, pulled, kissed, stroked, screamed at, licked, threatened, blessed, and healed.

•Loud carnival sounds in my room. Conversations and radio broadcasts.

DURING THE DAY:

•Extreme dissociation. Seeing myself as three separate organisms all at once.

•Overwhelming emotions and floods of memories.

•Disorientation. Unable to walk in a straight line.

•Profound feelings of bliss. Unity with Source.

•Hearing other people's thoughts, and often confirming it.

•Extreme joy, love, guilt, and heartbreak.

•Memories of dreams I had two decades ago.

The above phenomena are examples of forces I contend with on a regular basis…

It's truly astounding how spiritual development proceeds. It's by no means linear. Rather, it's a spiral. For example, I grapple with the aforementioned forces with a fortitude that shocks me sometimes, and yet I'll still get angry when my wife points out that I washed the dishes poorly!

And then there's the issue of OTHER PEOPLE…

The philosopher, Jean-Paul Sartre, said "Hell is other people." And I can understand why! But as this painful Awakening is taking root in me, I've come to embody the realization that individuals don't bother me as much as crowds do. The individual, like myself, is best understood not by merely sampling how he presents himself. To know someone, and that includes oneself, a taste isn't enough. No. To truly know an individual you must digest him. You must actively try to wear his shoes, as it were. Otherwise your judgments reveal not the man or woman in question, but YOU.

Our ideas of ourselves and others are dreams. To know oneself requires inviting both the Devil and the Angel within one to dine at the same table. And to be worthy of truly knowing another, of loving another person as oneself, requires the same unrelenting magnanimity.

And we must hurry to the meeting….after all:

Weeeeeeeeee aaaaaaaare dying!

[ezatluba]

Thirteen bald eagles were found dead in a field. This is what killed them.

by Karin Brulliard and Dana Hedgpeth June 20

Thirteen bald eagles were found dead on Maryland’s Eastern Shore in February of 2016. A new report shows the birds were poisoned.       

The 13 bald eagles were found lifeless on a Maryland farm more than two years ago, many with wings splayed, bodies intact, and talons clenched. Several were too young to have their species’ distinctive white heads. And at least six, according to a federal lab report, had ingested a highly toxic pesticide that essentially has been banned from the U.S. market, in part because it is lethal to birds.

The 2016 report, obtained by the Annapolis radio station WNAV and shared with The Washington Post, answers one big question in a mysterious wildlife crime that angered conservation organizations and stumped U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service investigators, who were involved because the bald eagle is a federally protected species. Tests showed that the birds were poisoned, as officials suspected. What remains unsolved is who did it.

“There was no smoking gun,” said John LaCorte, a special agent for the Fish and Wildlife Service who spent six months interviewing more than a dozen landowners and property managers in the Eastern Shore area where the eagles died. “It’s very frustrating.”

The chemical that killed the birds, carbofuran, came under scrutiny three decades ago for killing what the Environmental Protection Agency estimated were as many as 2 million birds a year, threatening the bald eagle’s then-fragile road to recovery. The granular form, which a Fish and Wildlife official in 1987 told The Post was the primary cause of death for bald eagles in the Chesapeake Bay region, was banned in the mid-1990s. The EPA disallowed the use of liquid carbofuran on food crops in 2009, saying the residue posed an unacceptable safety risk. Environmental groups hailed the decision as a victory for human health and for wildlife.

Today, the pesticide is off the market and the bald eagle is no longer endangered, though it is protected by the Migratory Bird Treaty Act and the Bald and Golden Eagle Protection Act. But carbofuran still occasionally kills birds and other wildlife in the United States. Sometimes those deaths are intentional, and sometimes they are collateral damage after an animal scavenges a poisoned carcass.

In November, a Montana farmer was fined $1,000 for the killing of a bald eagle that fed on a calf carcass he had injected with carbofuran in a bid to kill coyotes; it also killed three coyotes and a hawk. Last June, a Pennsylvania man was fined $3,500 after sending Furadan, the brand name carbofuran was previously sold under, to workers at his New York farm and instructing them to pour it on sheep carcasses to kill hawks that had preyed on his lambs. It killed two red-tailed hawks, a rough-legged hawk and two bald eagles. A Wisconsin father and son were each ordered to pay more than $100,000 in 2014 after killing more than 70 wild animals, including bald eagles, as they targeted wolves and coyotes with carbofuran.

Photographs displayed last month at a news conference in Sacramento show the harm done to wildlife by the use of a banned pesticide at illegal marijuana grow sites hidden on public land.

California authorities recently raised alarm about the widespread use of carbofuran at illegal marijuana grow sites. Mourad Gabriel, a wildlife biologist who has documented that trend, said in an interview that the chemical is usually found in Spanish-labeled bottles, suggesting illegal importation.

“They’re not using it as a pesticide. . . . They’re using it as a rodenticide to kill the animals that will come and eat the plants,” U.S. Attorney McGregor Scott told reporters in Sacramento in May. “This is a game-changer, because it’s a lethal poison.”

Carbofuran is an acute toxin, which means it can kill after a single exposure or an exposure of a short duration. And it doesn’t take much. Farmers in Africa have used it to kill lions that eat livestock.

Karyn L. Bischoff, a toxicologist at Cornell University’s Animal Health Diagnostic Center, recently examined a dog that had been fatally poisoned by carbofuran in the Caribbean. “It’s a pretty ugly way to die,” said Bischoff, whose lab sees carbofuran poisoning cases every year or two. The chemical can cause diarrhea, vomiting, seizures and excessive salivation, she said. It can also cause glands in the lungs to secrete fluids, causing animals to “drown in their own fluids.”

Robert Edgell, 89, owns the property of more than 100 acres outside Federalsburg, Md., where the eagles were discovered in February 2016. He had just gotten out of his truck when he stumbled upon the first carcass, which he described this week as a “young, immature eagle.” Walking on, he found two more dead eagles and then, nearby, a fourth standing upright with its tail feathers seemingly stuck in the ground. It looked as though it had been stuffed, he said.

Others were discovered in the same area by a man Edgell said he had allowed to look for deer antlers on the property. Federal officials who came to investigate collected them all — 13 total — as well as a partial raccoon carcass and fur found nearby. Killing just one bald eagle is punishable by up to two years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

“I was dumbfounded,” said Edgell, a retired state trooper whose farm has been in his family since 1910. “Usually you see one or two soaring over the place, but to see 13 in that area and all deceased. . . . In all my years, I’d not seen anything like this.”

Six of the bald eagles were sent to the Fish and Wildlife Service Forensics Laboratory in Oregon, which determined that all had carbofuran in their stomachs or in their crops, or both. All had consumed a “recent meal,” states the report, which was obtained via a Freedom of Information Act request by WNAV reporter Donna L. Cole. Five of the six had eaten raccoon, and some had eaten deer or chicken; the sixth had dined on marsh rice rat, but the report notes that any of the birds could have vomited other stomach contents.

The lab also examined the raccoon carcass and fur. It could not determine a cause of death, but carbofuran was detected on both samples. LaCorte said investigators believe the birds fed on the carcass of the raccoon, which may have been the target, and then perished.

“Bald eagles don’t normally predate on raccoons,” Gabriel said, because the latter are primarily nocturnal and eagles do most of their hunting during the day. “The raccoons probably succumbed to the carbofuran and they were out there decomposing and the bald eagles capitalized on the tainted meat.”

Although carbofuran can no longer be purchased, there is probably plenty of it still out there, Bischoff said.

“A lot of people have an old shed somewhere that’s got all this stuff in it that has been sitting there for 40 years,” Bischoff said. “They may or may not know it’s there.” 

Edgell, who grows soybeans and wheat on about 70 acres of his property, said he appeared before a grand jury in U.S. District Court in Baltimore, where he was questioned about the eagle deaths. Fish and Wildlife investigators also questioned him and his farm managers, including about chemicals used on the farm. Edgell said this week that neither he nor his employees had ever used carbofuran.

LaCorte said he believes Edgell did not use the chemical on his property. It’s possible, he said, that one eagle picked up the raccoon carcass elsewhere and then carried it to Edgell’s property, where other eagles also consumed it.

But even if eagles weren’t the targets, someone illegally used the carbofuran, and in doing so added a particularly egregious case to what LaCorte called an “epidemic on the Eastern Shore” of wildlife-poisoning crimes. A 2016 case in which five bald eagles were poisoned in Delaware remains under investigation, officials said.

“It’s every year where we get a couple of poisonings,” LaCorte said. Poisoning a nuisance animal or predator, rather than trapping it or building a fence, is “the cheaper and easier way out,” he said. The cases are hard to solve, LaCorte said, because there are usually few to no witnesses — or none willing to talk. “If anyone wants to see things get done about this, they need to be courageous and come forward,” he said.

Edgell said the eagles’ deaths disturbed his friends, and he assured them he was upset, too.

“It was certainly nothing done on the farm that killed them. It’s something else,” he said. “I love to see eagles flying. They’re a beautiful bird.”

[chaoticallyygood]

What's on Your Shoulder? (Short story #1)

“Whatcha’ lookin’ at, boy?”

Carr stared at the burly figure before him, unaffected by the threat.

“Is it this?” The bully fished out a golden necklace from his heavily decorated silk vest, “real pretty, isn’t it? Betcha’ want one right now, don’t you?” He swung the necklace, practically shoving it up to Carr’s face.

Carr could feel his blood boiling up, his fists clenching.

“You could get them real cheap in the city, it only cost about six calves. Why don’t you go get yourself one? Oh wait, I forgot,” he laughed, looking down on him, “your family ain’t as rich as mine. Can’t even feed your shabby dog.”

Carr was ready. I could feel his urge to fight, and now all he need is a little push.

“Go on,” I whispered in his ear, “stand up to him. Punch him with everything you could.”

And he would throw that punch straight onto the bully’s nose. He would, if my foe had not intervened.

“Don’t, Carr. Stay calm and walk away.” The being on the other side of his shoulder said.

Carr’s dog then nudged him. A mere push on the shin with a low growl, and Carr’s hands instantly relaxed. He took a deep breathe, picked up his hound, and left.

***

“Go, Malak!” Carr decided to go uphill, which is his favourite place. As his distance from the small village increased, so had my feel of indignation. Carr had been obeying my rival far too frequent these days, even though I was the first to dwell on Carr’s shoulder. And Carr would still be solely mine, if not for his dog, Malak.

It all happened four years ago.

This countryside boy whom I call Carr was assigned under my supervision since he was born. Although I could not be visually seen, I knew he could sense me. I would sit on his shoulder, offer guidance, and he would listen to me. There was nothing he would not do under my encouragement, and nothing could stop us—that was, until Carr adopted Malak.

Carr found Malak lost and wounded deep in the mountains. It was the least expected place to find such mammals, since most of them fell prey to vicious predators. But there she was, growling and whining, and Carr ran to her rescue without a second thought. He inspected her wounds, tendered them. I tried to talk sense into him, to tell him there was enough food to only feed the family, and there would not be enough to fill the dog. But he didn’t listen. He brought her home, and named her Malak.

Alongside Malak came an unwelcome guest. They were one of my kind, and they positioned themselves on the other side of Carr’s shoulder. Ignoring the fact that they had just intruded my habitat, they dared to say to me,“hi.”

To which I replied, “you must be the devil.”

They were, to my surprise, unprovoked. They gave me a roguish smile, “who is to say what’s good, and what’s evil? You could be the devil for all I know.”

Whoever they were, they were threatening my relationship with Carr. “What’s your purpose?”

“Same as you—to offer guidance and direction. Although I suppose our opinions would differ, I hope we could cooperate to mentor this boy.”

I knew from that moment on, we were rivals, and we would have to compete in everything. I was right—the polarity of our viewpoints had made us into enemies, and this competition was never ending, even after four years later.

Carr was lying nonchalantly on the grass field, palms cushioning his head, enjoying the sunlight, and occasionally throwing stones out for Malak to fetch. But no matter how relaxing was the scenery, Carr could not help but think about the big cottages down in the village, where the rich merchants lived. He would die to just go in and have a look inside the houses. Although he would never admit it, luxuries such as gold and jewellery had always been fascinating to him. He was envious of people who owned them, and the image of the bully swanking his necklace was still lingering on his mind.

Malak fetched the stone and ran back to Carr, who was lost in his thoughts. She nudged him, and he smiled, “right, I have you,” he caressed her soft, brown and black fur affectionately, “you’re my best friend, you know? You’re all I have.”

The tranquility was however interrupted by a shout, “Carr! We going hunting! You still coming?”

Excited by the reminder, Carr jumped up and hurried down the hill, whistling for Malak to catch up. Carr loved hunting. It was his favourite sport, since hunting meant that there would be meat to dine on, and he got to spend time with his family and friends, including Malak. Carr’s father discovered the hound’s talent to hunt when she savagely tore down a pigeon with speed and precision, and decided to bring her along in every hunting trip. Turned out it was a good decision, as she had been a great aid when the target was too dangerous.

The group of hunters consisted of three families. The leader was the householder of the wealthiest family amongst them, who brought along his eldest son and daughter. They were equipped with the best weapons—all sharpened, and polished, and decorated. The other was a small family of Carr’s father’s friend. The rest were Carr’s father, his elder brother, Carr himself, and Malak.

Halfway into the forest, the results were already quite fruitful. The group had hunted birds, hares, and even a wild piglet. However being the youngest in the group, Carr could not contribute anything. He was pushed into the middle, thus before he could even spot a prey, one of the members had already sprang into action, capturing it. Same thing happened over and over again, rankling Carr, who had been eager to participate.

Suddenly, a growl was heard not very far from them. A beast-like figure appeared, and was slowly approaching the group. Its yellowish-brown fur sparkled under the sunshine with its every movement. That large pair of triangular ears twitched, its white fangs showing. Its eyes were the colour of the sun, aggressive and ready to slaughter. Everyone gasped, now aware that they might have offended a coyote. The well-trained adults quickly moved into a tactical formation, backing up, and getting prepared for a fight. As they were moving backwards, Carr could not synchronize with the group, and was so squashed that his only weapon, a dagger, was dropped to some place where the thick layer of dried leaves swallowed it.

“Tut-tut, look who’s scared, hmm? Can’t even get a grip on the dagger?” Carr’s brother whispered jokingly into his ear. The words ignited fury in him. Carr’s cheeks were flushed; he felt the need to defend himself. “I’m not afraid. You’re the one who made me drop it.”

I knew what Carr wanted. He wanted to kill the coyote and claim its head. He needed to prove that anything the adults could do, he was also capable of doing it. So I did what I had to—I supported him. “You know you can do it. Take a weapon, and battle for everyone and yourself.”

Then came the irking voice of my rival, “Don’t be reckless. This is dangerous. You could get yourself killed.”

I was worried that I was not being persuasive enough, but all it took was one eye-roll and a scoff from his dear brother—and the last bit of sense was then plucked from Carr.

Carr snatched away a weapon from the nearest person—which happened to be a Shotel sword that belonged to the son of the leader—and sprinted with full speed. Malak saw that as a sign of attack, so she charged at the coyote and outran Carr. The coyote rumbled, arched its back and aimed at Malak, ready to pounce on her any second. But it stood no chance against her agility, as Malak leaped and dug her teeth on the flesh of his back. It stumbled and howl in pain, trying to shake Malak off. Carr took the advantage when the coyote was occupied—he pushed the coyote down forcefully, and pierced the scythe into its vital organs.

With a high-pitched howl, the struggles gradually stopped. The coyote was dead. But Carr couldn’t stop; adrenaline pumped through his veins, and he somehow still felt rage washing through him. He lashed it all out on the coyote’s dead body, stabbing and jabbing and punching—and not until he heard Malak’s bark and felt her nudge was he pulled back to reality.

***

At night, the group set up a bonfire and feasted on what they had hunted. Carr had calmed down, and he decided this was a good time to do one thing.

With Malak as moral support, he walked up to a young man, and bowed, “I am sorry for taking your…thing, without permission. Please do forgive me.”

“That’s alright. That was probably the right thing to do too.” The young man looked more amused than offended. “Besides, that was impressive. Your pet and you make a great duo.”

Carr beamed with pride, “thank you, sir. Thank you,” and proceeded to walk away.

“Wait,” the young man called out to him before he walked far, “I have an offer for you. Would you care to listen to what I have to say?” He was smiling, but he gave off a feeling that rejection was not a choice.

“Of course,” Carr accepted.

“Good. Let’s start with an introduction. My name is Malum, and you are…Iscariot, yes?”

“Yes.”

Malum nodded. “So, here’s the thing,” he began,“my companions and I are planning on a voyage, and our objective is to expand our business across the world. Now, we have been trying to recruit people, but very few are qualified, as this job is, should I say, quite dangerous and risky. But you,” he examined Carr from top to bottom, “you have potential. I saw it when you slit that coyote without a blink, and just, wow.” He shook his head in amazement. “You are one of the few chosen ones. Well, are you interested?”

Carr was all giddy with the compliments being lavished on him. “Yes I am, sir.”

“Great. But there’s one more thing,” he clasped his hands, “to prove yourself worthy enough to be one of us and ready for the challenges ahead, you must go through a trial. It is a rule. Now, let’s say how ‘bout…” His eyes scanned around, finding for something. They stopped upon Malak. “Ah, yes, your pet. How about you kill it, and that would prove you’re courageous, and you’re able to sacrifice anything for the greater good.”

Carr’s eyes widened in horror. How could he possibly do that? “I’m sorry, sir, I’m afraid I cannot do it. Malak is my best friend, and—”

“And what?” Malum rudely interrupted. “Think about all the fortunes you’ll have! You could swim in gold and gems in less than one year. And I saw it in you—your power-hungry eyes, your desire of wealth when you stare into my sword—it is in your blood. So you can choose, either save your little pet and give up this very opportunity, or suck it up, finish your trial, and buy whatever dog you want from what you earn in this trip.” Still sensing uncertainty, Malum sighed. He unfastened his Shotel sword from his belt, and shoved it into Carr’s hand,“here, have it. Keep it, whether you’re coming or not. But the crew is leaving tomorrow at noon. If you do finish your trial, come find me before then. I have high hopes on you, Iscariot. Do yourself a favour, and choose what’s best suited for your future.” He patted on Carr’s shoulder, and left.

***

Carr was stuck in a dilemma. He desperately wanted to join the adventures of voyaging across the world, but he didn’t think he could ever bring himself to kill Malak.

“Just kill her, Carr,” I advised, “we ought to look at the bigger picture here. Choose what you want most, and we both know that’s not a dog.”

“Don’t even think about it.” My enemy, of course, opposed my opinion,“you can never buy friendship, not even with millions of what you earn.”

Carr stared into the Shotel sword. The gentle glow of the sword under the silver moonlight glued his eyes onto it. His fingers swept across the detailed carvings on the blade, again and again. He thought about how many more of these beauties he could buy if he did join the voyagers. And he thought about how Malak’s ghost would haunt him for eternity if he did kill her.

“Think about it. A dog’s lifespan is never long, and she will leave you in, what, ten to fifteen years? What would that leave you? No pets, no friends, and no fortune! Carr, please don’t waste this golden opportunity. Listen to me.” I was genuinely worried for Carr’s future, and I must make him choose my advise, for I know what was best for him.

My enemy was silent for a while. Then they came up with a solution, “fine, you would indeed need materials to live your dream life. But you cannot just kill your best friend for the sake of a mere test, can you? And you cannot just let her go, for she follows you anywhere even without a leash. Here’s an alternative choice—find a family who will adopt Malak, and love her as much as you do. Hand over her to them. Then, seek a deceased dog that resembles Malak. Show it to the young man Malum, and there you go.”

Carr’s eyes lit up, “oh right. I could find Malak another family. Then I could find a dead dog, an just pretend that is Malak. That way, she can live, and I can go on that adventure!” He immediately gathered his tools, and took off.

***

By the time Carr and Malak reached their destination, the town was already asleep. Carr had no choice, but to settle in some place which seemed like a charity. He could only hope that the people there would be kind enough to take Malak in.

He took out a rope, and tied a knot around Malak’s head. He tied the other end around a piece of wood of the wooden fence. He could see her struggling to get out of the rope, sad and confused, looking up with her black beady eyes, and he almost gave in. He placed a kiss on her forehead, mouthing apologies and farewells. He turned around, and decided to run as fast as he can before he could change his mind. However, before he could even step forward, he felt a strong force restraining his leg to move.

It was of course Malak. Along with low growls, she bit on the piece of cloth that wrapped around Carr’s shin with deadly force, as if her life depended on it. Carr sighed, and rubbed his fingers behind her, which would usually relax Malak. But this time it did not work. She wouldn’t let go.

“Come on, Malak, I’m sorry, but I need to go.” He patted her, caressed her, but to no avail. Carr tried to tear away the cloth from her, but the strength of his leg was no competition to a hound’s teeth. With every attempt Carr grew more tired and frustrated.

“For god’s sake, just kill it,” frustration grew on me as well, and I suggested what should’ve been done at the first place, which was simple, and less tiring plus complicated than this plan.

“No, Carr. Just take out the sword, and cut the cloth around your leg. Slowly, though. Do not hurt your friend.”

Carr unsheathed his scythe. His hand slowly approached where the fangs and the cloth met, and sliced on the fabric. Malak, as if she knew what would happen once the cloth was cut, grew even more ferocious and forceful, to the point where Carr’s whole body was pulled towards her, and a sharp sense of pain shocked through him.

Exasperated, Carr swung his scythe down on Malak.

“ISCARIOT!” A voice screamed.

He soon found himself kneeling in a pool of warm liquid, his whole world dyed by a dazzling colour of red.

***

The sun rose.

Carr found Malum, and he laid the cold corpse of Malak in front of him.

Looking over to the other side of the shoulder, I saw nothing. I smirked in triumph.

“Good job. You’ve proven yourself worthy.” Malum patted on his shoulder heavily. “looks like you’ve listened to the angel on your shoulder, Iscariot.”

He did not say a word.

“Let’s move on, shall we?”

-end-

23.November.2017

2817 words