#Flower Seeds Market share

[kylobith]

Little Town Tails

Chapter 6: Something Fishy

Summary: A curious visitor comes to Emerald Grove.

Ship/Pairing: Halsin x Fem!Tav

Trope: Modern AU, Meet-cute, Little countryside town, Cosy

Word count: 4,831

Read it on Ao3 here

Listen to the dedicated playlist on Spotify here

‘Ah, Halsin, there you are!’

‘Good morning, Jaheira,’ he greets the florist back with a bright grin. He wipes his muddy shoes on the rubber mat outside until they are presentable enough to go in. Behind him, Scratch sits at the door, unleashed, waiting for Halsin to be done with his visit before heading home.

Jaheira grins at the white dog and whistles, calling him inside. The dog eyes his owner hesitantly, but when the latter gives him an approving nod, Scratch trots up behind the counter to be petted by his host. She grabs the banana she was snacking on and takes off a piece she offers him.

Halsin approaches the counter and smiles at the sight, always happy to see that his dog is accepted somewhere. While petting Scratch behind the ears, Jaheira looks at his visitor and smirks.

‘Walked around the forest this morning again?’

‘Indeed. The weather was perfect, but last night’s rain made the ground a bit soft, as you could tell from my boots.’

‘It’s always like that. At least they say that this spring will bring more sunny days than usual,’ she adds, chuckling as the dog lies down at her feet. ‘Anyway, did you happen to see Minsc at all? I’ve been trying to call him for two days because he ordered a fresh bouquet, but now the flowers are waning.’

He leans on his elbows and fidgets with one of her business cards on the counter.

‘I did, he was patrolling the area by the other bridge. Had I known, I would have reminded him.’

‘Oh, don’t bother. It’s always like that with him. He tends to forget what he orders on a whim. He’s always ready to support my shop since I opened but he never picks up his orders. He did, once, but that was a flower for Boo’s birthday and he ordered flax seeds. That was it.’

They share a laugh. Minsc certainly is quite the character, anyone meeting him can tell. Quite eccentric compared to the rest of Heawick, but he adds to the charm of the community. Whenever somebody needs help, whether when the flower shop was merely an idea sprouting into Jaheira’s mind or with Beaky’s incident with the bear trap, he never hesitates to lend a hand, even though it tends to distract him from his daily tasks and chores. Yet, there is no better forest warden.

Jaheira flips through the pages of her logbook and finds Halsin’s recent order.

‘So, the spider plant, was it?’ she says absent-mindedly. ‘Found a gorgeous one for you. Fluffy, in good health. Perfect for your counter.’

‘Eager to see it!’

She chuckles and heads to the back to fetch the plant. She returns with precisely what she promised him, setting it down on her counter for him to examine. He touches the long leaves between his fingers, sensing the freshness of their greenish white stripes and admiring the way that they curve elegantly around the gold-painted bucket serving as its display pot.

‘What a beauty!’ he coos, his eyes sparkling in awe. ‘How much do I owe you?’

‘Eighteen gold coins.’

‘Perfect, thank you.’

He takes out and begins to rummage through his coin purse, which takes Jaheira by surprise and causes her to smile. Shaped like the head of a teddy bear, its fur is made from light brown fleece, and the eyes and nose are embroidered in black and pink thread. He bought it at a flea market a few years ago on one of the rare holidays he allowed himself to take. Many raised an eyebrow to see a grown man buy it for himself, but even though he is far from materialistic, it is one of the few objects that he has grown particularly fond of.

He places the eighteen gold coins in the palm of Jaheira’s hand and slips two more into her tip jar.

‘Thank you,’ she says with a brief bow of her head. ‘Don’t forget to repot it from time to time, the roots tend to grow fast. And water it once to twice a week. It’s usually alright if you skip a week, as long as you don’t do it for a month straight.’

The veterinarian laughs and watches the florist remove the plant from the yellow pot. He purses his lips and tilts his head.

‘How much for that pot? It suits the plant quite well.’

Jaheira stops and eyes the bucket.

‘Oh, this? Ah, just take it. On the house.’

‘Certainly not,’ Halsin protests, unzipping his coin purse again and counting the coins in it. ‘Name your price.’

‘I insist, take it. I bought it years ago but it doesn’t suit my home, I use it for visualisation most of the time… Or as a pencil pot.’

She nudges it towards him with a wink. With a sigh and a heavy blush, Halsin slips ten gold coins into the tip jar and winks back. Once the plant is back in the bucket, he calls out for Scratch, who seeks one last pet from Jaheira, then rushes to his owner’s feet. The veterinarian and the florist exchange cheerful goodbyes, and the former exits the shop with his dog in tow and the spider plant tucked in the crook of his elbow.

Halsin whistles a tune as he crosses Heawick with his free hand buried in his pocket. He nods politely at everybody he sees with a smile and continues his walk back to Emerald Grove. The town is still awaking from its slumber and some of the shops are only just opening. Sometimes it still surprises him that Jaheira decides to open hers this early, but as she once said to him, she prefers to tackle her daily routine in the early hours, then close one or two hours before most shops so she can enjoy the town herself and have a longer evening to relax or meet up with her friends at the old pub on Westway Street.

Come to think of it, it is not such a bad idea. Shop owners and employees seldom have the opportunity to shop for themselves, unless they work half shifts or rely on partners who have the time to buy everything they need. More often, their only occasion to do so is on Saturdays, but the busy aisles deter quite a few. Since Heawick has a wider variety of establishments of all the nearing towns — not counting the city, of course —, its streets bustle with visitors on that particular day.

As he turns onto his street, he switches hands to hold the plant and fumbles through his pocket to find his keys. When he pulls them out and looks up to make sure that he does not walk too far, he notices the figure of a man peering through the windows of the practice. Dressed in black from head to toe, matching with his silky and spiky raven hair, the man does not seem to have come with a pet and does not seem particularly eager to enter.

‘Good morning,’ Halsin greets him with an eyebrow raised. ‘May I help you? Do you have or need an appointment?’

The man is startled despite the veterinarian’s soft tone. He straightens up and looks over at Halsin, seemingly analysing him in detail. The stranger rubs his index and thumb together and scowls at Scratch, who does not dare approach him at all. His demeanour already betrays the fact that he comes from the richer quarters of the city and is not used to visiting the area at all. There is a haughty air to him in the way that he carries himself, as if the word ‘peasant’ is about to slip off his tongue at any moment to describe Halsin and his shockingly unleashed pet.

‘No,’ he replies in a honeyed tone still tinted with firmness. ‘But I will come back later.��

Without uttering another word, the man spins around on his heel and walks away, leaving Halsin utterly confused with his key in hand. What a strange character.

The veterinarian shrugs it off and enters the dark practice, ushering Scratch inside before closing the door again behind him. He walks over to Karlach’s counter and finds a suitable spot for the plant, making sure to stand on both sides of the desk to ensure that the view is not obstructed for neither his assistant or a patient’s owner. But in the end, he finds that it does not quite fit there with the cards and flyers and tip jar, so he carries it over to the small coffee table in the centre of the waiting room. At least, if the anxious pets munch on the leaves, they will not be sick from it.

After a brief shower and a change into scrubs, he lets Scratch rest upstairs and heads back to the practice to follow the daily opening routine. As he takes a minute to make himself a cup of fruity tea — a bold decision considering how often he drinks his signature mint and honey infusion —, his mobile phone pings. Karlach’s name appears on the screen.

‘Morning doc, sorry but I’ll be late today, Vixen just won’t start! I’ll be there ASAP, promise promise!’

Halsin grins and immediately types back as he flicks the light switches on and shuffles towards the front door without paying much attention to his surroundings.

‘It should be quiet for the first hour, hopefully you will have found a way by then. Good luck finding an alternative! Perhaps you can ask Gale? Halsin. PS: I hope that Vixen will be alright. Too bad that she is not the type of vixen that I would treat at the practice :-).’

His wrist flicks to unlock the door while he re-reads the message to correct any typos he might have made. Eager to let some fresh air in, he opens the door wide.

‘Morning, doctor!’

Halsin nearly drops his phone when he jolts in surprise, not having expected that somebody might have already arrived. After all, he does not have any appointment planned before an hour. Outside, wiping her feet on the mat, Tav smiles at him with twinkling eyes and a light flush from noticing that her sudden greeting startled him.

His heart instantly leaps inside his chest and his lips mirror her grin.

‘Oh, good morning Miss Ashguard! I apologise for my reaction, I did not expect such an early visit. Is everything alright?’

Tav quickly combs her fingers through her freshly-cut curtain fringe. It suits her incredibly well, he catches himself thinking. The way that it sweeps across her eyebrows, its colour only highlighting the deep blue of her irises… It nearly steals the breath from his lungs.

‘Yes, yes, everything’s fine!’

He steps aside and invites her inside. As she passes him by with a light step, he closes his eyes for a second, savouring the aroma of her flowery perfume. As he realises what he is doing, he clears his throat and follows her to the reception.

‘Do you need anything more for the case against Mr Bongle? Perhaps I have forgotten to include some information in the report?’

She leans her elbows on the counter and does not seem able to eff the smile across her rosy cheeks. The sight, however sweet and pleasant, does stir something within him and he curses himself internally for reacting the way that he does.

‘No, not at all. The lawyer said it was quite complete, actually. She’s revising the case and I just have to wait now,’ she chimes with a shrug. ‘I’ve come here because there’s a stray cat in my street that’s been going around for a while but lately he’s been looking quite thinner. The old lady who used to feed it everyday died a few weeks ago, and I’m not sure anyone feeds him anymore.’

Her gaze wanders over to the rows of kibble bags on the display shelves.

‘I’d like to buy some food for him just to be on the safe side, and since I don’t want to risk giving him the wrong stuff, I thought I’d buy it here.’

‘I see,’ he responds with a nod. His eyes brighten up at the thought that she cares for an animal that is not hers. Most people he has seen refuse to approach stray animals out of fear that they might catch diseases or fleas, and while some caution is always advised, too many of them end up suffering all sorts of infections that go untreated and only cause them agony. Knowing that there is someone like Tav out there caring enough to notice the change in the cat’s weight gives him hope.

Halsin steps back to peruse the selection he has got, heading straight to the cat section.

‘Do you know how old the cat is, approximately?’ he asks.

‘Mmh, he doesn’t look too old. Hears and sees properly from what I know, his fur isn’t too patchy. Some neighbour said the old lady fed him for about three years.’

‘Then let us take one for adult cats to be on the safe side. I suppose that you do not happen to know what type of kibble she gave him?’

‘Not at all. Sorry.’

He nods and asks her a few more questions about what behaviours she has noticed from the cat in general. Once he is able to define a clearer profile of the animal, he picks a bag and sets it down on the counter, pointing at the information written on it with his pen.

‘This is food that is perfect for a cat used to the outdoors, aged five years or more. If it turns out that he is slightly younger, that should not cause any trouble. Since you said that he is on the lighter side, I would recommend thirty grammes of kibble per day. See how much he manages to eat and add a little more if he starts gaining a bit of weight again. But do not give him more than forty-five grammes, since it is likely that he hunts mice or birds on the side.’

‘Noted!’

Reaching into a cabinet behind the reception, he takes out a measuring cup and places it next to the bag.

‘This should help you measure the food without a kitchen scale.’

‘Practical. Alright, let’s take it!’

Halsin smiles and circles the recommended doses on the bag so she does not forget the amount he has told her to give the stray cat. He signs in to his software and enters the right reference to log the sale.

‘Would you like me to add it to your patient account in case you need to buy some new kibble later on?’

‘Gladly,’ she responds cheerfully, leaning her cheek into the palm of her hand while watching him typing on the keyboard.

‘Done! That will be twenty-two gold coins, please. The measuring cup is free.’

Tav takes out her credit card and pays for the bag. Once her wallet is stored away into her small cross-body bag, she carries the dry food under her arm and holds the measuring cup between her fingers.

‘Thank you very much, doctor.’

‘You are most welcome. If anything, I should thank you for caring for the cat.’

She returns his smile and tucks her hair behind her pointy ear, whose tip is reddening. Before he starts staring at it, Halsin drums his fingers on the counter.

‘Oh, before I forget, I beg you not to leave out milk for the cat, because—’

‘— because cats are naturally lactose intolerant,’ she completes his sentence with a smug expression that can be likened to this of a pupil who is proud to show that they have learnt their lessons by heart.

‘Indeed,’ he chuckles. ‘Well, it seems that the cat is in most capable hands, I can sleep soundly at night.’

Tav laughs and readjusts her grip on the bag.

‘When I’m released into society, I’m the type to always bring up that fact and everyone gets annoyed,’ she laughs.

‘At least you are spreading the good word out there. I did not know that you were doing public service on top of jingle compositions.’

‘I’m full of surprises, doctor.’

They share a playful grin, which lingers perhaps a bit longer than it should. His heart stirs when he notices the twinkle in her eye and the subtle reddening of her cheekbones. When her fingers unconsciously loosen around the measuring cup and it slips out of her grasp, he skilfully catches it before it bounces on the floor and hands it back to her.

‘Oh, thanks,’ she mumbles bashfully, tucking it under her free arm. ‘If anything goes wrong with the cat, can I try and bring him here?’

‘Of course. I will be happy to help.’

‘You’re the best! Thanks again. Have a lovely day, doctor.’

‘You too, Miss Ashguard. If you have any doubts, you can always contact me.’

‘I will!’

She waves at him and walks out of the practice. His eyes follow her as he sighs dreamily. However, his distraction is quickly cut short when he finds himself face to face with Astarion stepping inside with a cup of blood from the butcher.

‘Morning.’

‘Ah, good morning, my friend! Could I ask you a favour?’

The vampire grunts and slides his sunglasses up, letting them rest on top of his head. His ruby irises scowl at the veterinarian. Favours are never good in the younger man’s book. Or rarely.

‘I suppose I don’t have a choice,’ he mumbles. ‘What do you want?’

Halsin crosses his arms. No matter how much he tries to connect with him, even if just on a superficial level, Astarion always keeps his guard up and his distance. Honeyed words sometimes ornate his speech, but they never feel genuine, merely a façade that shelters him from others. He does not need to befriend him, of course, but he wishes that they could get along as well as he and Karlach do. But again, everything is easier with her. Sometimes, she might be too social and kind in a world that does not always value such qualities.

‘Karlach’s motorcycle broke down this morning, so she will be late. Do you mind working the reception until she arrives?’

Panic fills Astarion’s eyes right away. He furrows his brow and tries to act nonchalant, but his hesitation clearly stands out.

‘Wh— I don’t even know how any of this works!’

‘Do not worry, I am not saying that you must do all her tasks. If you could keep an eye on the appointments list and welcome the patients, that will help tremendously already. If the phone rings, answer it and write down the names and numbers, I will call them back between consultations. If it is urgent, do not hang up; call for me instead.’

‘Mh. That sounds doable. Alright.’

Astarion walks to the kitchen to drop his jacket and sunglasses, then comes back to the reception. He sits behind the desk and Halsin shows him everything he needs to know. Then, the veterinarian walks into his office and logs in to the general inbox and answers some emails himself.

Soon enough, the first appointment of the day arrives and Astarion directs them to the waiting room, where Halsin eventually comes to call them in. The consultation goes smoothly despite the very reticent puppy howling dramatically at the prospect of receiving one of her first shots. When he is done, Halsin guides the owner and the pet to the reception and registers the payment himself, before offering a treat to the brave puppy.

When they walk out, Halsin’s phone pings again.

‘Found a way, Dammon is bringing me. Be there in ten. Btw, doc, did you just make a joke?? And use a smiley??! Who are you and what did you do to Doc Halsin???’

Halsin laughs and updates Astarion on Karlach’s estimated time of arrival. Before the second consultation, a grumpy customer enters and asks for an anti-flea treatment suitable for a corgi. Once he has explained how to apply the solution efficiently, the veterinarian slithers back behind the desk and Astarion rolls a few inches away with his chair to give him enough space to deal with it all. 

‘Do you already have an account?’ Halsin asks the amber-eyed tiefling, whose tail is whipping around behind him in annoyance.

‘This little shit is not my dog, thank the Gods!’ the customer answers with a scoff and a roll of his eyes. ‘He’s my sister’s.’

‘I see. Does she have an account?’

‘Listen, can I just buy the treatment and go? I feel like I’m being devoured by fleas myself as we speak!’

‘Of course.’

Without protesting, he processes the sale and gives the little pipettes to the young man, who turns around with another scoff and leaves as fast as he can, scratching his head harder than he probably should.

Eyeing the man with concern, Halsin leans towards Astarion.

‘Do you think the dog is at risk with him?’

Much to his surprise, the vampire laughs while filing his nails and admiring the result.

‘Most likely. I know him. Well, know is perhaps a strong word, but I’ve spoken to him a few times. As you can clearly tell, he’s from the city. He’s one of the most arrogant pricks I’ve talked to, and it takes one to know one. He owns a bookshop specialised in academic publications of all sorts, and my husband happens to love the place.’

Could it be? Is he actually opening up by accepting to gossip with him? Not that Halsin particularly likes hearsay and talking negatively about people in their backs, but this exchange already brightens up his day.

The vampire carefully taps his glass nail file on the edge of the bin under the desk to rid it of dust, then tucks it away in its little sleeve.

‘But don’t worry, Rolan’s all bark and no bite, he won’t hurt that pup,’ he continues while shoving the file inside his shirt pocket. ‘You know, he’s clever and all, but Gale took him down a notch a couple of times. You know what? I think my husband’s at his hottest when he gives arrogant people a reality check.’

‘That is good to know, I suppose.’

‘Trust me, doc, I think your next appointment’s here.’

Indeed, the next patient comes in and Halsin welcomes him warmly. Halfway through the consultation, he hears the faint sounds of the sewing machine upstairs, and he concludes that Karlach must have arrived in the meantime and relieved Astarion of his temporary duty.

Halsin does not see her until he finishes the next examination and logs everything into the computer. His assistant pokes her head in when the patient leaves and speaks in a hushed voice.

‘Morning, doc! Uh… There’s an odd chum lurking around in the lobby, doesn’t have a pet or anything and he keeps ignoring me when I ask him if I can help him.’

The veterinarian turns around with an eyebrow raised and instantly rises from his high stool.

‘Go back to the reception, I will talk to him.’

Karlach nods and does as he instructed her, sitting back on her chair and anxiously browsing playlists for something that will calm her nerves while being acceptable to play from the practice’s speakers. Situations like this one is among those she has been dreading most about working at Emerald Grove. Owners losing their pets and leaving without their furry or feathery friends remains the worst of all, but weird and creepy people are close.

In previous jobs, she had her fair share of lurking visitors and customers who made her feel uncomfortable, but the employee handbooks always stated that she could not shoo them away outright. Either a manager or security had to do it. Sadly, it often left her feeling incapable of fending for herself and infantilised.

Soon enough and much to her relief, help is on the way and Halsin arrives, clicking a pen. Without making himself look menacing either, he puffs up his chest slightly. If anybody seeks trouble, he is hoping that his size and his brawn will dissuade whoever stands before him. But as he catches a glimpse of the man in question, his stomach tightens. Intent on not showing his discomfort to Karlach, he smiles and speaks as naturally as possible.

‘Good afternoon, sir. I believe we have met this morning, you were looking inside the practice before opening time?’

The man turns around with a smug smile and a mischievous glint in his eyes so dark that one cannot quite pinpoint their colour. Now that Halsin is closer, he can discern the man’s outfit more clearly. Tucked into high-waisted trousers, his tailored black silk shirt with the top five buttons left undone allows his black chest hair to peek out. His overcoat adorned with golden embroideries has its collar upturned, completely covering the back of his neck. If anything, it gives him a menacing look, as though he is the villain of a fairytale come to life, but dressed as a model.

‘You are the veterinarian who owns the practice, aren’t you?’ the man answers at last with a brief squint of his eyes.

‘Indeed, I am. May I be of any help?’

‘Oh, I am merely looking around.’

As he says so, the stranger buries his hands into his pockets and paces around, inspecting the walls and the layout of the reception and the waiting room. Karlach sneaks a glance towards her boss, wondering how he is going to handle this most peculiar situation. Without blinking, Halsin steps forward, tucking his pen into the breast pocket of his scrubs.

‘May I know what you are looking for, sir?’

‘This is a beautiful working space you’ve got here. Most impressive.’

Before he can press him on, the stranger faces Halsin with a smirk, rubbing his fingers together in the same unsettling way that he did earlier this morning.

‘Tell me, have you ever considered selling this practice?’

Halsin crosses his arms. This time, he has no intention to behave in the same friendly manner. While he knows that escalating such a ridiculous situation would be useless, he knows now that he does not want this man lurking around anymore.

‘No, sir. We have only just opened, thank you very much. Now, if you do not wish to make an appointment or buy anything for a pet, I kindly ask you to leave. I must soon tend to another patient.’

‘Oh, that’s a bloody shame. Well. I’ll see what I can do.’

The man reaches into his inside pocket and takes out a business card, which he hands the veterinarian by tucking it between two well-groomed fingers.

‘In case you change your mind, I would be very happy to discuss it with you. Here’s my contact information. The name’s Enver Gortash.’

Without as much as a goodbye, Gortash walks out of the practice, leaving a dumbfounded pair at the reception. Karlach stands up from her chair, her gaze shifting between the door and Halsin.

‘What in the hells just happened, doc? What the fuck was that about?’

Her boss examines the business card he is holding with a deep frown.

‘I have no clue, Karlach. I am quite at a loss, to be honest with you.’

‘What did he say his name was?’

Halsin hands her the business card. Before she even gives it a look, she sits back on her chair and drags her keyboard towards herself, instantly typing the name in her browser. His curiosity piqued by the results, he joins her behind the desk and leans in to read what comes up on the screen. Karlach clicks on a biographical article from a business-centred media website and begins to skim it.

‘Fuck me, Gortash’s quite the big guy,’ she mumbles pensively. ‘Owns a big company that owns lots of brands itself. Apparently, he’s known for gentrifying the shit out of many neighbourhoods in several cities already. He’s kicked out independent shops to establish a coffee chain and turning flats into offices.’

His eyes scan the same words and the more they read, the tighter the lump in his throat feels. Karlach hands him the mouse so he can peruse the article himself and open others. He checks several sources, and much to his dismay, the information they read in the first article seem to be confirmed through others.

‘I do not like how that sounds,’ he whispers.

‘Me neither, doc. But now that you told him off, he’ll lose interest, right?’

‘Mh. I doubt it. But now I wonder if he has shown interest in other places in Heawick. There is only one way to know.’

The assistant looks up quizzically as he sighs heavily and crosses his arms.

‘If anybody in Heawick knows anything, it is Melly.’

Taglist: @emmanuellececchi @reignydeys @cakenpiewhyohmy @beardedladyqueen

[wistful-giselle]

foods to heal the soul & body 🦪 ~~

all fruit & berries — raspberries, blueberries, blackberries….. freshly picked, ideally, in a little wicker basket…. pair with live yogurt or kefir and nuts and seeds to eat like a fairy or bird-like creature……

organic vegetables of all colours — kale, squash, mushrooms, carrots, edamame, potato, beetroot, chard, (baby) cucumber, sweetcorn, peppers — for beautiful salads with chickpea hummus and oils and tofu and olives and feta cheese….

seasonal treats for winter : bûche de noël and marzipan fruit and crystallised petals and hot milk with honey like a child before bedtime and pink heart biscuits for valentine’s day….

for autumn : toffee apples and mulled wine and syrupy coffee and oat porridge with banana in the morning and hearty seasonal soup with hot soft bread to break and share… .

for spring : hot cross buns with (homemade) cherry jam and simmel cake and chocolate rabbits with gold foil and eggs to paint….

for summer : lychees and watermelon and white peaches and figs off trees and ice cream by the seaside and freshly caught fish stewed with cherry tomato and herbs and onion and lentils…

little garnishes — edible flowers, parsley, pomegranate seeds, pistachio, rosemary and thyme, lavender lemongrass….

and above all, whatever brings joy alongside sustenance — dates stuffed with almond butter, italian fettuccine in antique bowls, birthday cake and non-birthday cake, oysters, melon cut out to look like stars, sushi and sashimi, jellies in fanciful moulds, crepes from french markets and stroopwafles from dutch markets…. etc.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

[dailyanarchistposts]

The morning’s farm activities include: milking the goats, carrying hay out to the horse, feeding the chickens, turkeys, ducks, geese, etc. and collecting eggs, and tending the rabbits. Later on, gathering vegetables and flowers for market day, checking the fruit trees and associated beehives, tinkering with the tractor, preparing the baler for the last cutting of hay, etc., etc. All the familiar farm chores...only these are all being done in the heart of the City of Detroit, almost within sight of the smokestacks of the giant Ford complex. This farm is located on the converted playground of one of the city’s public schools, the Catherine Ferguson Academy (CFA).

And CFA is not the only farm in Detroit. By my count, there are now at least six micro-farms within the city limits ranging from about an acre to several acres. Even more important, there are now scores of productive community and school gardens, along with hundreds of family gardens, which are providing fresh fruits and vegetables for their neighborhoods and for sale at various farmers’ markets around town. And the urban farming movement is growing here faster each year, strengthening people with healthy produce, and re-energizing communities with shared planning, work, and celebration. It is becoming a movement of urban farmers worthy of linking up with the readers of Small Farmer’s Journal. But how did this movement come about?

Detroit, as everyone knows, was “The Motor City,” the auto capital of the world, home of the GM, Ford, and Chrysler. But in the mid-1970’s, the first of the oil crises hit Detroit like a tsunami. Plants downsized and closed, leaving tens of thousands of Detroiters out of work and neighborhoods devastated. People started leaving the city in droves. That exodus left broad swaths of open fields where vibrant neighborhoods stood a few years earlier. By some estimates there are now in total about 40 square miles of vacant land inside the city limits of Detroit. And as the people left, this new prairie land was rapidly repopulated by pheasants, rabbits, and raccoons, ’possums and songbirds, along with the occasional fox or coyote. But it also brought some determined new urban farmers. As a result, by the early 1990’s, the Detroit Agriculture Network (DAN) came into being to provide a forum for exchange of information, resources, seeds, etc., among these new farmers.

[frozen-fountain]

Find the Word... Love Edition!

Thank you to @mothboypoison for the tag :) In return I nominate @hrh-spinach, @ourspecial, @runicmagitek, @laboradorescence, @visualheresy, @keioschaos, @wandringaesthetic, @danceswithdarkspawn! And anyone else who wants to join in.

Words for me to find: hand, familiar, embrace, yearning, dear

Words for you to find: lips, holding, present, star, simple

Hand

- from Aperture Priority

The tram left them in the shadow of the command centre, under a roof patterned with leaping dolphins in the undulating hues of the sea. Last time he stood below that waveless surface Elmyra kissed his cheek and put him on the journey home, and just the touch of her hand melted the layer of rime that still clung to his skin after months making wind power in the far north. She had pictures to show him, too, of Corel in a new spring where the sun awakened the mountain fern and things were being built again – thanks in no little part to the expertise a certain master of materia shared with them the year before. He smiled as he took Marlene's hand again and led her through wide streets bereft of road markings where no cars roved, framed by cascades of flowering vines and merry market stalls. Elmyra's green fingertips had touched every part of the city, left a little Cetra magic down every dirty alley she walked at the start of it all, and some of those sparks still danced on his skin, too. The town was lit in amber the first evening, when she took his hand and marched him through the streets she helped to shape, back to her place without a second's hesitation. Not until her clothes came off and she covered her chest with her palms, like he was meant to be surprised she didn't have the body of a twenty-year-old beauty queen under there. He stepped closer and took her hands in his and she placed them on his arm, over the rough and cratered band where skin met metal.

Familiar

- from Dulosis

Elena blinked. The lines between the sky and the trees were still there. Connecting lines. Not separation boundaries. One could not be without the other. “My parents used to say people who did drugs only had themselves to blame when they ended up selling their bodies in the gutter.” Her mouth moved on its own, shaping familiar sounds with no weight behind them. Yuffie snorted. “Kinda hard when you freaks don't use money anymore. 'Sides, what a load of horseshit. Old Man Shinra did just fine, and there's no way he wasn't powdering his nose when no-one was looking. Hell, probably when they were, too. Who was gonna stop him?” A laugh bubbled up out of Elena's nose. “I believe Sephiroth had that honour.” Yuffie was silent, then responded with a quiet, “heh. Yeah. He did. And I'm the one who stopped Sephiroth.”

Embrace

- from Into the Night Uncharted

The lights stayed with him on the long flight across the ocean. And then rose Junon, a cracked and rotten tooth jutting out of the broken ground. He would be there for the days when the seeds his friends had planted came at last to full bloom and draped the concrete bulwark all in green, when butterflies flocked about the heights and the people sang in the streets. He'd be there when the last grain of the desert beyond the mountains blew away and left only trees and flowers to tell the tale. And he'd be there, still, when the ocean returned the city's verdant embrace at last and toppled the tall tower, taking it and leaving it somewhere else as time marched on and made new.

Yearning

- from Prints

The yowl crawled in from the empty hall, long-drawn and full of yearning. Reeve put his equations to the side and rubbed the blur from his eyes. Rolling his neck and straightening his back yielded a chain reaction of cracks and crunches, and he groaned. “I'm right here, pretty girl.” Another keening wail prompted a pause in the clatter behind him. “She wants attention where she is,” said the disembodied husky voice from the kitchen. “Probably.” The rise and the run and the long strings of numbers had stopped translating into a helpful vision of ramps and pulleys about half an hour ago, anyway. Junon's first high-rise farm, the project of a lifetime and culmination of five years of the city's healing, could wait. Reeve slid from the couch onto his knees, into a patch of late afternoon dappled light. He rapped with three knuckles on the floorboard. A chirrup, a scrabble of claws, and a small clear bell sang in time with Freya's soft trot along the corridor. She stopped in the doorway, then barrelled into his open arms, ringing with every bound. Reeve laughed as she nuzzled into his shoulder, pressed her lithe body against him until the gentle rumble of her purr reverberated in his own chest. “You're so big now,” he whispered, kissing silky fur and scratching her ears. “How'd you get so big, when I wasn't looking?”

Dear

- from Fogged Windows

Terra sighed as she smoothed her skirts, tugging at the darker dampened patches. “Oh, dear. It really is obvious what we've been doing, isn't it?” “You slipped while picking the carnations and pulled me down with you. Or we had a water fight, which I would win.” Terra laughed. “You'd like to think so, wouldn't you?” She slipped her sandals back onto her feet, but it helped little. Her hair was a knotted briar and her dress, wrinkled and wet, did nothing to disguise the prominence of her still-roused nipples. Celes nodded, reaching down past the sodden patches daubed on her legs for her boots. “We could head for my chambers, if you wish. They're closer and more out of the way. We'll find you something more presentable to put on.” And I could have you screaming the night away with no-one the wiser. You'll see what I can do with a bed under us, she didn't say. Not with Terra still pale and shaken and blinking away tears. Celes would only clothe her, hold her, let her fall asleep on her shoulder or read to her until guilt, that most unwelcome of intruders, left the way it came in the night.

[elsewhereuniversity]

I like to plant vegetables and fruits I bought at a market (or their seeds). This has lead me to three problems: 1) A lot more of them made it than anticipated and now I don't have enough space in my dorm room, is there like a community garden or something? 2) The plants have attracted some kind of small fairy-like creatures and I don't know if they are bening. 3) There is one plant that does NOT look like the citrus plants it is sharing a pot with. It looks magical. Should I let it live?

1. Yes, just beyond the orchard

2. They’re just pests, irritating but mostly harmless. Spraying a mist of watered down apple cider vinegar should keep them away

3. On the one hand, mercy is often a virtue; on the other, mystery flowers and fruit are a non-insignificant source of Problems. How lucky do you feel?

[tomorrowsgardennc]

market update // september 21st

thought i would do a fun comparison photo today. front versus back. mostly because i finally remembered to cut the stool i've had since college shorter so it fits in the car and my knees are at the same height as the table. folding chairs have become difficult for me to get in and out of, and this stool keeps me at a decent height so i don't have to attempt to get up and hide a struggling face from a customer. long sentence, but if you deal with chronic pain then you know the struggle. there are just some pains you can't mask from, and getting up and down from a sitting position is mine. anywho.

i both adore and am sad with soap vendors. i love buying soap, but i feel like they take forever to use so i only buy from them like every other monBUT WHO CARES IF I ALREADY HAVE ENOUGH SOAP LOOK AT THIS GUYYYYYY HE'S SOOOO CUTE!!! i saw and immediately bought it, didn't even say good morning first lmao

the tropical depression that blew thru early in the week didn't *seem* bad, was a nice steady rain for a few days. but it was bad enough to destroy the flowers so i only had one arrangement for today. my vendor neighbor bought it. sale is a sale!

almost sold out of all the plants today! not too many seed sales, but plant sales means less i gotta tetris in the car on the trip home. so works for me! and glad to see people understanding that fall gardening is totes a thing. in past years at other markets even regular customers would go "ughs no i dont need to garden any more this year plz no" so glad there's a change of attitude here.

the market manager, i love her. she bought a pint of ground cherries and just walked around the market for an hour with them and made customers she knew try them. sold all but one because of that. (pro tip for any market: last one never sells, so always bring 1 more than what you want to sell).

the ground cherries are about to produce double the volume, probably by next saturday. i had 3 people ask if i'll have more next week. not bad for my first time selling produce at this market! although these are a pain to harvest, but that's on me not the plant.

best customer question today was a nice lady asking "so... if my orange cat decides to be extra orange one day and eat this pea plant, will the cat die????" LMAO!! good news is peas are actually in a lot of cat food, so pea plants and peas are completely safe for cats. and while i had legit no idea about tortitood before adopting a tortie, i legit don't think i could handle an orange cat since i already know about the one shared brain cell between them. i need the cat to have more brain cells than me, not less!!

(i love my tortie to absolute pieces and so happy to find her, but never. adopting. a tortitood. again. i ask myself if i would have adopted her if i knew about the tortitood beforehand and i legit dunno.)

also psa: seeds do need watering. just. wanted to randomly... let y'all know. because it turns out some people don't. realize it. that is all.

[r0-boat]

*crashes in* HELL YEAH I WANT THAT BEEGEAR STATION

I'm gettin back into Stardew Valley, so what if--

What if Reader decided to plant different flowers depending on the season outside for the bees?????

Different flavored honey!

The bees are curious but love the variety. You also just look so cute and pretty gardening! They just wanna scoop you up, twirl you around and take you on the flower beds

Bonus: certain bug hybrid neighbors appreciate certain flavours of honey and you get to trade with them better things depending on what you have available.

Beemas Gardener!reader head Cannon

CW: harem, all the bees love Reader

The Bees can finally rest easy, knowing that their Royal is safe, and their hobby is relatively safe too.

Gardening is such a perfect hobby for you you're caring gentle hands tending to something delicate and beautiful like s flower.

The Drone plant wonderful flowers for you, anything you tell them, but the boredom on your face was clear.

The bees usually only use their plots to grow plant-based food. While other drones and warriors set out to hunt and look for gigantic flowers to harvest their pollen and nectar. The Gardener drones were happy to share their Farm plots with you but you didn't want to impose.

So As a gift the Drones construct a royal Greenhouse in the back of the old station.

They can't help but watch you from afar on their break with hearts in their eyes.

Being with you in your personal Garden is perfect one-on-one time with their royal. They are more than happy to lend an extra hand.

Your homegrown honey veggies and fruit become absolute Delicacies in the hive, only because it was grown with love from you.

Bees when they receive a random tomato you grew:🥺👉👈💗😭🥰😍💋💕💞

Also, a funny interaction where the drones purposely jack up the price on the "Bee station Black Market" of your vegetables to the Kings on purpose. ( this is all going on without your knowledge, by the way)

The bees will look in jealousy at the 'certain Merchant' that you're selling your vegetables to.

They can't help but bring you seeds that they find just to see the smile on your face. you just look so happy in the Royal Greenhouse. And all they want to do is make you happy.

Oh, to be that guard that guards the greenhouse while you're there, seeing you and the greenhouse guard interact with the royal—watching him twirl you around in happiness. They want to be him so badly!!

Since your flowers were so small, you could only make so much of your special honey (the bees taught you how to make honey), but oh my God, you're unique flavored honey is the delicacy of Delicacies, treated like diamonds.

Insect hybrids can make flavored honey in theory, but many of them are primarily focused on Survival or their own colonies, so they never really have free time. So other insect hybrids would shower you with lots of luxuries just for trade.

One season you'll try to grow watermelon or cantaloupe and you ended up with a tiny melon or a bitter fruit. You sit in the empty mess hall with a basket full of failures. The worker drone washing his dishes sees his Royal looking sad and his heart breaks

" your highness... you look sad my love, why? he says gently, Wiping the tears away with his thumb.

" oh, Elias...it's nothing I thought I could grow more fragile fruits and vegetables this year I guess I was wrong... Henry and the other Gardners are so much better than I am."

Elias frowned " your highness... the gardening department to grow these things for you and all the hive. I'm sure they can give you wonderful tips and pointers," Elias looks over into the basket and Chuckles.

"Elias-!" You quietly Shout.

Elias shakes his head giving you a pleasant smile " Sweetheart, there's nothing wrong with these, they're just a little small... I'll tell you what I'll make special dishs with all of these just for you but it shall only be our secret"

You give him a small smile and Nod. " there's that lovely smile~!" Elias replies taking your basket and heading over to the kitchen.

The dishes ended up being amazing.

You ended up seeing Henry later that evening the other drones laughed as Henry scrambled, brushing off the dirt off him trying to look as presentable as possible.

You asked Henry if he could tutor you one on one on gardening.

henry.exe stopped working.

One of the gardener drones in Henry's team facepalmed.

" Don't worry your highness... he'll do it"

[stardewremixed]

hii I love your blog, your headcanons are really fun to read.

I just saw your pasta post and I wanted to ask you, could you write something similar, but with desserts? like, the bachelors and Bachelorettes favorite desserts, I they can cook them or not, etc

Thanks :) I hope you have a nice day

Love this idea! I will absolutely do this. tagging @bored-farmer

🍨 Stardudes Favorite Desserts 🍨

Alex

Despite working at the ice cream stand, he doesn't particularly like ice cream, but he enthusiastically shares suggestions for flavors based on your mood or preferences.  

Alex is grateful that the owner lets him experiment with flavors. His latest creation? Pancake ice cream!!! Buttermilk ice cream with maple syrup and chunks of chocolate covered bacon. Oh yeah! Who doesn’t love breakfast?

Evelyn's desserts are the best in the world. He has a very "YOU-CAN-FIGHT-ME-if-you-disagree" mentality about it. He's uber protective of his Granny.

Chocolate chip is his fave. He won't even look at someone else's cookies, but if you're friends with both Evelyn and Alex, he would invite the Farmer to join a baking session. He would purposely throw flour in your hair to be playful. 

As a kid, Alex recalls sitting in the kitchen and enjoying a cookie and milk after school. Evelyn would kindly ask about his day and sweep the crumbs off his shirt when he was done.

If in a romantic relationship with him, Alex would be strangely blushy if you swept crumbs off his shirt. He views it as a very caring gesture, and associates feelings of warmth and care with it.

When married to him, Alex is over the moon whenever you bake dog treats for Dusty. 

Elliott

This man knows his wines and chocolates. Every chocolate has the perfect pairing. White chocolate and Moscato. Milk chocolate and Pinot Noir. Dark chocolate and Merlot. 

Really loves chocolate covered pomegranate seeds. Any kind of chocolate covered fruit really. If you dance with him at the Flower Festival, he will send you chocolate covered strawberry as a thank you. 

Leah talked him into painting with chocolate once. It was a messy experience. Watch the hair! Never again. 

He savors every experience. He never eats fast. Each bite of exceptional chocolate is followed by a happy little hum. 

Is actively petitioning Mayor Lewis for a Stardew Chocolate Festival. If in a relationship with the farmer, he would recommend their chocolate covered fruits and nuts, and suggest chocolate infused honey. 

In the fall, he craves your pomegranate crisp. Would borrow an ice cream maker from Marnie to churn homemade fresh vanilla to go with this famous dessert. Probably called Willy over to help. He would show up at the farm, puffing hair out of his face, and surprise you with the dessert. 

Harvey

Likes a little mandel bread with his morning coffee. A crisp, twice-baked Jewish cookie like biscotti. He pulls the cookie out of the jar, and nibbles on it while waiting for his coffee to brew. A delightful morning ritual.

His mother taught him how to make Sufganiyot (jelly-filled donuts) served around Hanukkah. Harvey pulls out his rolling pin, apron, and baking tools every year for this tradition. Then he serves the donuts down at the VA. While there he would try to cheer up Kent and Linus. His donuts are one of the only things that make them happy, and he takes pride in bringing joy to these men who served his country. 

Harvey wouldn’t keep any donuts for himself. So if there are any leftover, he will pass them out for free at the Winter Night Market. Hey, they go great with coffee. 

Closes the clinic for the day to drive to Zuzu in early winter. The city is the only place he can find the traditional Hanukkah gelt (gold coin chocolates) and candied dreidels. If in a relationship with him, he invites you along for the trip. You enjoy jazz during the road trip. He packs hot cocoa in a thermos and an extra scarf for the trip. He’s embarrassed to admit that he forgot an extra cup. You’ll have to share. (now Harvey, is that so bad?) 😉

Sam

Hands down. A root beer float guy. Any kind of soda float guy. Strawberry. Cola. Orange. Grape. Makes funny ice cream moustaches with Vincent. Jodi comes in the kitchen wondering what all the giggling is about. 

Would be genuinely so surprised that people make alcoholic root beer. His excitable little grin warms your heart. Doesn’t realize how addicting these are. Would slosh back multiples on the lake pier with Shane (who is very what-the-fizzlesticks about it). Wakes up the next day with a hangover. 

Absolutely a breakfast pastry lover. Cinnamon rolls. Muffins. Turnovers. Bagels. Croissants. Danishes. Strudels. Maple bars are, of course, his favorite. 

When he was a kid, Kent would take him out early on Saturday mornings so Jodi could sleep in. They would pick up donuts, coffee, and the newspaper. When he arrived back at the house, Sam would whistle the Reveille (the military morning bugle song) to let his mom know they arrived. Jodi hated it, but Kent was secretly so proud his son remembered the song.  

Would promise his whole class that he would bring something for the bake sale. Jodi always sighed because she wasn’t “informed,” but she made the desserts anyway. 

Sam is pretty abysmal in the kitchen, constantly distracted, missing the timer, running back to the fridge for ingredients he forgot, leaving the oven on after taking stuff out. But if you offered to make sweets with him, he would make his absolute best effort. 

An ideal date night would be making cinnamon sticks to eat with pizza drizzled with honey from your farm. If you fell asleep in his room, he would reheat a few in the morning and bring you coffee in bed.  

Sebastian

Rolls his own mochi. He gets really into it too. Spends a day picking out the best ingredients.

Makes a cooking music playlist that sounds nothing like what a normal cooking playlist would sound like. Heavy metal, some goth punk, random alternative.

Headphones on, he would cook in the middle of the night. That's when he is least likely to be disturbed. Unless of course Robin is working late on your farm. If she happens in, he gives his mom a taste.

If in a romantic relationship, Seb would invite you to join him in making mochi. And he would carry you home after you passed out at 2am, tuck you in bed, kiss you on the forehead, and leave you mochi in your freezer.

Shane

He's a quick and easy kind of guy. Cookies, candy, ice cream. Gets a good employee discount at Joja so he can stock up on his faves. Best hangover food.

Frequently patronizes Alex's stand in the summertime. The ice cream tastes better. He might even hang out for a bit and chat gridball with Alex if he has nothing better to do.

Sometimes Evelyn leaves him cookies. He likes her rocky road bites. The crunchy sweetness is delicious.

Egg custard tarts are a favorite of his. Best with fresh eggs from the Ranch. Every year Marnie makes it for Shane on his birthday.

If in a romantic relationship with him, he would learn how to hand crank ice cream just for you, with fresh cream from Marnie's ranch and a big bag of ice from Pierre's (once Joja closes, he would get a job there).

Lance 

can’t wait until they serve stardrop sorbet at Alex’s ice cream stand. It only happens once a year. Sets his alarm extra early that morning. Shows up before they’re even open.

would be over the moon if you baked him a golden pumpkin pie. 

If in a romantic relationship, he comes home just for your kisses - it’s dessert enough. 😘 Brings you a treat from his latest travel spot. 

Magnus 

working on creating a dessert elixir - it would sweeten any poor quality food for a short time. 

anything with black licorice - even in coffee. 

definitely likes spooky treats - bat brownies, ghost marshmallows, candy corn pretzel spiders. 

bakes winter star cookies every winter. Drops sprinkles all over the kitchen. 

appreciates if the Farmer brings him sweets while he’s double checking the magical barrier. 

Victor 

has expensive taste and knows it. You can blame Olivia. 

also loves stardrop sorbet. He makes happy little sounds when he eats it. 

loves coffee-flavored desserts. Cappucino mousse is his self-declared favorite, but he enjoys coffee-flavored ice cream in the summers. 

waits in line a long time for his favorite truffle popcorn. It may not be a typical dessert, but it’s a delicious snack. 

orders tiramisu from a specific bakery in Zuzu City. If in a romantic relationship with the Farmer, he would share. 

I'll do the bachelorettes next. Hope you enjoyed!

[eretzyisrael]

Preparing for the High Holy Days in Algiers

As the first fruits of they year appeared in the street markets, Jewish housewives busied themselves preparing festive dishes, jams and jelly for the High Holy Days. The chidren enjoyed waffles, biscuits and ice cream. Caroline Elisheva Rebouh shares her memories of childhood in Algiers in the Morial newsletter (With thanks: Leon):

Algerian street market

In the last days of the summer holidays, mothers were busying themselves with the household chores in readiness for the Jewish High Holy Days of Rosh Hashana, Yom Kippur and Succot.

The families gathered around festive meals. They needed to prepare traditional dishes in advance for guests to sample, and especially  pre-prepared confectionery and pastries.  At the time, few of us had a refrigerator.

The markets overflowed with fruit of all kinds: housewives selected quinces, white-flesh sweet potatoes, figs, and pinkish grapes.

The quinces were chosen carefully to be almost sure that they were not “visited” by unwanted worms. They were rinsed,  peeled and cut into quarters –  hard to do as the fruit was hard. The seeds were removed and reserved separately for jam and quince jelly. People loved it  at the end of the Yom Kippur fast!

The fruits were boiled to soften the flesh so that  the sugar syrup seeped into the flesh of the fruit and the sugar remained clear. It was during this operation that the seeds (quince cores) were added so that the pectin let the syrup gel. Some of the boiled quinces were cooked over low heat. During the prolonged simmering,  sugar was added in small quantities,  while  the mix was stirred to make a fruit paste.

The figs were also quickly turned into a light-coloured and appetizing jam.

The grapes: we chose a variety called “bou amar” : the grapes were round, relatively large and pink. Mothers armed their children with fresh feathers  to deseed the grapes. The jam was also pinkish and pleasant, and some mothers would wrap the seeds of the grapes in fresh compresses to make jelly.

A little later there would appear small apples of a very pale green and with light pink spots on the side which were used for the Rosh Hashanah  seder and which were called Kabyle apples. Small white and pink peaches with firm, tender  and fragrant flesh  were also called Kabyle (Berber) – no doubt coming from Kabylia.

In Algiers,  we children ignored the entire selihoth period. We only experienced the season through the pleasure of tasting small amounts of candy floss, fine biscuits and other delights.

During and at the end of  summer,  small stalls “flowered” on street corners: the yaouled (children or young teenagers) offered us freshly-picked prickly pears which they peeled with dexterity and presented them on fig tree leaves  so that our little fingers did not touch the  thorns. Other yaouled offered grilled corn on the cob: we savoured them on the benches in the public gardens where we played with our cousins, neighbors and classmates.

From time to time, we gathered around small confectioners who tempted us with sugar of different colours which they sold in small quantities.  We sucked them by holding them between our fingers and then crunched our teeth on them.

The waffle merchants  announced their passage by waving wooden boards with handles on both sides. festooned with  mini-shutters which tinkled with a dry and dull sound.

At that time we liked our waffles a little thicker than ice cream cones. They were rolled up in cones and stacked in a sort of cylinder about one meter high. The merchant placed it at ground level to serve his young customers.

But fine biscuits weren’t the only popular waffles: at Grosoli, a popular ice cream parlor in Algiers, the ice cream cups were decorated with a fan or a fine rolled biscuit.The Bitone company also marketed what were called “funny wafers”  : they carried short slogans like “You won” or “I love you”.

When many years later we found ourselves in Marseille, we could no longer find ice creams like those of Algiers.

Read article in full

[megarabane]

Felix's Stardew Valley

The First Spring

The Stardrop Saloon

[masterlist and summary]

<><><>

“So, uh…question.”

“Shoot,” Leah shrugs, setting a basket of strawberries on the counter. “Where’s my water?”

“You’ve lived here a while,” Felix begins carefully.

“Couple years, yeah. Oh, here it is.” Leah flops into one of the kitchen chairs with a dramatic sigh, draining a water bottle in one go. It’s only when he reaches for his that Felix realizes that was his.

“Yo,” he scolds, affronted.

“Oh, you’ve got more. If you want me to help you make jam, I need to be hydrated.” She wags the empty bottle at him indicatively. “Was that your question? Because that wasn’t a question.”

“No, um, my, uh…” Felix clears his throat, turning away from Leah to studiously examine the three baskets of strawberries currently adorning his little countertop. He’d maybe gone a little overboard buying strawberry seeds from Pierre at the egg festival when his cauliflower wasn’t even ready to harvest yet, but apparently, the markets in Zuzu City are paying a premium for fresh produce—and there’s enough to try his own hand at canning and…jamming? Jam-making, probably. And plenty to eat. He loves strawberries. It’s kind of a problem.

All the windows are thrown open—even as warm as it is, the cross-breeze is a welcome movement through the little farmhouse that apparently doesn’t have central air. “My question. Right. Um. You’re friends with—with Elliott, right?”

The chair she sits in creaks interestedly. “I am.”

“Is he…” Single might be too forward. Gay really isn’t any better. Looking for a twink with terrible social skills and debilitating imposter syndrome isn’t…great. Felix bites absently at a hangnail. “Is—Is he— What’s he do?”

“He’s a writer,” Leah explains. “Moved here from some little town a handful of years ago—I don’t really remember where. He doesn’t like to talk about it.”

“Why not?”

Leah sighs, long and slow. “Well… Before he came here, he graduated college with an MBA and applied to law school in Zuzu City.”

Surprised, Felix turns to her. She’s thrown her legs up into the second chair at the table and is turning the water bottle in a shaft of sunlight pouring through the open window, although her gaze is fixed on something distant, a little frown tugging at her face. “That’s a pretty prestigious law school.”

“He didn’t make it past his first year,” Leah replies softly. “It wasn’t his grades or anything—he just realized his passion wasn’t actually in law.”

“That’s a long time to go and then realize where your passions lie.”

“The way he tells it, he was barely passionate about the MBA. It was what his family wanted him to do. They’d decided that writing wasn’t going to get him anywhere, and didn’t hesitate to tell him as much. Once he realized that he was just doing what they wanted and not what he wanted… Well, he dropped it all and came here. Bought a little two-room cabin on the beach and spends almost all his time focused on his writing.”

He starts to ask another question, but Leah cuts him off with a shake of her head. “Anything past that isn’t my story to tell.” She finally looks at him, head cocked with a playful little smile. “You’ll just have to get to know him yourself.”

Felix draws his hands protectively to his chest, like his feelings might be painted across his ribs and he could potentially hide them from her. “Well—Well—”

“Most of the town usually goes to the Saloon on Fridays,” Leah continues like he’d not spoken. “You should come tomorrow. Get to know him. Plus, it’ll be a good way for you to get to know the other townspeople, too. I think before the flower dance, most of them were convinced a ghost had taken up residence here. As it stands, I was getting my fair share of strange looks for ‘hanging out at the old Northridge place alone’ because no one had actually seen you.”

Felix blanches. “I’m—not good at making friends.”

Like that would stop the extrovert who had clearly adopted him as her own little basket case.

Leah shakes her head like she’s already decided. She probably has. “If you aren’t at my place by three, I’ll come get you myself, and we’ll go together. So, you can either come down and meet me willingly, or I’ll do it myself. Pick your poison.”

Felix taps his fingers nervously together and leans against the counter behind him. “I think I’m reconsidering the terms of our friendship,” he decides.

“Too bad.” Leah throws the empty water bottle at him, and it bounces off his shoulder and clatters noisily to the wood floor. “Signed in blood, I’m afraid. Completely unbreakable. Should have read the fine print the first time around.”

<><><>

Felix does his best to hide behind Leah as she throws open the front door of the Stardrop Saloon to raucous noise and jaunty tavern music. It proves to be remarkably unsuccessful, partially due to the several inches of height difference between them.

“Leah, my darling!”

Leah thrusts a hand into the air and waves, and Felix tries his best to blend into the wallpaper.

“Coming!” Leah turns up to Felix, beaming. “Why don’t you get us drinks—tell Gus to put it on my tab, no, shut up, not up for debate—and I’ll get Elliott warmed up for you?”

“I d-don’t need you to—to warm him up,” Felix stammers weakly. He makes the mistake of looking up from Leah and across the saloon, and immediately makes unobstructed eye contact with Elliott, who watches him with no small amount of surprise, a glass halfway to his mouth. His heart pitches straight through his stomach and crashes into the floorboards. “I’ll get the drinks anyway,” he decides in a rush, and he hurries up to the bar. He only trips over his own feet once.

“Hey, how’s it going?” Gus greets, polishing a glass and smiling warmly under his well-groomed moustache. “It was, ah, Felix, right?”

“Um, that’s—that’s right,” he replies, scooting onto a stool before his shaking knees can give out on him.

“Leah dragged you out tonight?” he guesses, tossing his towel over one shoulder and returning the glass upside down on a stack of its brethren. “It’s not a hard tell—she does this with anyone she adopts as her own.”

“Oh.” Well, at least I’m not the only one. Felix clears his throat behind one hand. “She was…pretty insistent.”

Gus laughs, passing his hand over the towel. “That’s sure one way to put it! Hear that, Em?” he asks over his shoulder, drawing the attention of the girl organizing wine bottles. Her short blue hair is pinned back with an ornate clip sporting a well-polished amethyst. “Leah’s just insistent.”

“Oh, more than that,” the girl agrees sagely, nodding. “She’s the unstoppable force every immovable object eventually succumbs to. A real natural disaster, even. In all the best of ways, of course,” she adds with a bright smile at Felix. He returns it, not really sure what he’s silently agreeing to.

“The mystery farmer makes an appearance!” Felix jolts badly as the stool next to him is suddenly occupied by Pierre, who slaps him bodily on the back and elicits a decidedly unattractive squeak. “We were starting to wonder if you’d died out there.”

“Pierre,” the girl scolds, tossing him a stern look. “You know what spreading rumors does.”

“Yes, yes, bad energy or whatever. My bad, Emily.” Pierre leans both elbows on the bar, holding a mug of beer in both hands, and examines Felix over the top of his glasses. “How’s the wilderness and that ramshackle little lean-to treating you? I’ve not heard any commotion at Harvey’s in the late hours, so I assume it can’t be that bad.”

“No, not at all,” Felix insists. “It’s very, um…quiet.”

“So’s death,” Pierre agrees.

“Pierre!” Emily repeats, harsher. Gus turns away to hide a stifled snort of laughter. “Don’t pay any attention to him,” she insists, pushing a tall glass across the counter to him, full of a bright red liquid and adorned with a brightly colored straw. “Either of them. This is Leah’s usual. What can I make you?”

Felix scans the bottles adorning the back wall quickly, more to buy himself time. What’s the strongest thing I can order without looking like a drunkard to make this entire ordeal more bearable? “Can—Can  you do a Tom Collins? With that Bombay?”

“Of course I can.” Emily turns away only briefly to grab the crystal blue bottle and spins back as Gus slides a highball glass in front of her. “How’s life on the farm treating you? Pierre, go away if you’re just going to make comments.”

Pierre snorts into his frosted beer glass, elbows propped on the bar. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“No use arguing with her,” Gus says with a shrug. “She gets it from yours.”

“It’s been good,” Felix answers as Gus and Pierre fall into a good-natured bicker. “Shipped my first strawberry harvest, and kept just enough to try my hand at…jam.”

“Oh, fresh strawberry jam!” Emily throws her head back in dramatic rapture as she tips a heavy splash of what seemed to be fresh lemon juice into the cocktail shaker. “You have to let me know when it’s ready. Please.”

“I-I’ve never actually made jam myself before,” Felix explains hurriedly, stomach knotting in sudden panic. “It might be shit. It’ll probably be shit.”

“Oh, nonsense,” Emily insists, slamming the two parts of the shaker together and hefting them into the air. “Ask Leah for tips—she’s a great coach! And even without Leah helping you, it’s pretty foolproof! Strawberries are so good.”

Gus interrupts just to slide Felix a glass of dark liquor and say, “For Elliott,” with a smile. “When they ask, I put it on his tab, not Leah’s, don’t worry.”

“And hey,” Pierre cuts in, shoulder-bumping him, “if it turns out good, I might just have an empty shelf at the store to prop ‘em up on!”

When Felix just stares at him, Emily slides him his drink and leans in to whisper, “He’s offering to sell your jam at the store.”

“Oh—Oh,” he realizes. “Uh—Uh, I have to see how the batch turns out, though; if it’s no good, I-I’d hate to sell a bad…product, y’know, at your store…”

“God’s sake, we gotta put a spine in that back of yours, kid,” Pierre snorts, and Emily flicks an ice cube at him with a sound of frustration as Gus laughs. Felix tucks his head, embarrassed, and takes a long drink of his Tom Collins. It’s fantastic.

<><><>

“You brought the new farmer,” is the first thing Elliott says as Leah drops onto her stool at his side.

“I did,” she agrees, batting her lashes innocently. Elliott misses it entirely, staring at the way he sits very straight on the bar stool, only to have his entire posture rocked by an already-inebriated Pierre throwing too much force into a shoulder pat. “We’re friends.”

“You adopted him, then.”

“’Course I did. You saw him at the egg festival.” Leah takes the glass from his hand and takes a little taste. Her nose wrinkles delicately and she pushes it back. “God, that never gets better. If he had it his way, he’d never leave the farm, I think.”

Elliott’s eyes trace the untidy ends of his hair—dyed a pretty sapphire once, surely, although the roots under the sun-faded color are an equally pretty blond—and the angle of his neck down the curve of his back and his long legs. He’s got a lot of leg for someone barely taller than Leah. “Uh-huh.”

“I’ve been helping him pick his strawberries,” Leah continues, apparently unaware of Elliott’s wandering attention, “and I’m going to show him how to make jam the proper way. I’ll save you some. I know you prefer cherry to strawberry, but he’s not got any trees growing yet.”

Felix nervously wraps his hands around Leah’s usual as he seems to order something at random, cheeks coloring a beautiful peach pink. Elliott raises his glass, suddenly wondering if his skin is as soft as one. “Uh-huh.”

Leah stares at him. “I could ask if he’s got cherries for you, though.”

This gains his attention. Elliott chokes on his drink and gives Leah a scandalized stare. “What?”

“He might have some preserves left; the old man was really into canning, remember?” She inclines her head, eyes round and innocent. “What did you think I meant?”

Elliott looks at her until her mouth twitches and she turns away, covering her laugh with one hand. “You are insufferable,” he declares, finishing off the rest of his drink. He holds the glass over his head until Gus looks up at him, and the bartender nods and gestures to Felix before turning away. “Is this why you brought him here? To bother me?”

“Well, I do like watching you fawn over pretty boys,” she admits.

“I have spoken to the young man twice,” Elliott reprimands her sharply. “I will not be fawning over him tonight.” Not publicly. “Potentially ever.”

Here’s the thing that Elliott hates—he’s down horrendous for the new farmer. The night of the egg festival, he’d gone home and laid in his bed, listening to the ocean and thinking about summer-green eyes until he was dizzy. The next morning, he’d headed into town at the first opportunity, doing his shopping and milling about in the faint hopes that Felix might show.

Instead, he’d run into Leah, sent on a mission for fertilizer from Pierre’s as a reprieve from planting strawberry seeds. She’d gotten that terribly knowing look in her eye as Elliott had stammered out a none-too-subtle question about Felix, then made an equally terrible excuse before she could even answer and had all but run back to his cabin, mortified.

A text had been waiting for him when he’d finally drawn himself from his embarrassed moping to check his phone, from Leah: Felix is doing great, followed by a kissing emoticon, and an attached picture. She had her tongue out, throwing a peace sign at the camera. Behind her, Felix was kneeling next to some freshly worked earth, shielding his eyes with one hand and squinting in a way that scrunched up his nose. He mimicked her pose with two fingers held out in front of him. The soft white button-down he wore was open almost all the way to his navel, exposing well-tanned skin, and he was barefoot, with the several years of leg he carried covered only by a pair of dirty white shorts that stopped above the knee.

He’s…not proud that he looks at that photo every so often.

As for ‘speaking to him twice’, their chance encounter in Pierre’s two weeks ago could barely be counted as a conversation, really, even by the most generous among them. Elliott, thinking about his novel, hadn’t paid attention before turning a corner, and he’d bumped into Felix, eliciting a yelp from the younger man, wearing heavy headphones.

“I’m so sorry,” Elliott stammered at the same time huge emerald eyes stared up at him, stuttering out an equal apology. Not unlike a cornered rabbit seizing its opportunity at flight, Felix just ducked his head and bolted to the counter to pay for his groceries, and had kept his eyes on the floor as he’d flown from Pierre’s. Elliott spent the rest of the day kicking himself, although he’s not entirely sure why.

“Not to mention, I’m likely ten years his senior or more, Leah,” he finishes sternly.

“Oh, do not put on that ‘I’m on my deathbed, call me a nursing home’ act,” Leah scolds. “Felix is twenty-six, I’ll have you know.”

Elliott blinks. That…only puts five years between them. That is not something he’d expected, really. Is he just…baby-faced? Or am I used to Samson and Sebastian? Or am I simply not used to guessing ages anymore? “Truly?” he asks softly.

“Turns twenty-seven in midsummer,” she confirms, glancing toward the bar. “He’d better get over here; I swear, if my drink is all watered down by the time he gets it to me…”

Like her muttering summoned him, Felix slides off the stool and stands up with three drinks supported deftly in his fingers. He stares stalwartly down at them as he walks, and lets go of a short breath as he sets them on the table between them.

“Gus said to make sure to say that Elliott’s drink is on his own tab and not yours, Leah,” he says, soft voice almost lost in the music and raucous noise of the bar. Elliott hadn’t noticed the saloon filling up with the rest of the valley’s inhabitants, although now he sees Pierre has been joined by Shane and Pam, and Robin and Demetrius are laughing as they dance in front of the fireplace. The clatter of billiard balls is punctuated by a loud roar of cheers and laughter from the other room.

Elliott takes his glass, and Felix’s skin is so soft under his fingertips as their hands brush. Elliott loses all nerve to make eye contact and just takes a heavy drink, focused on the light fixture over their table.

“I was just telling Ellie about your strawberry harvest,” Leah gushes excitedly, mixing her drink with a black bar straw and ruining Emily’s perfect ombre pour. “We should have plenty sealed by the end of the weekend, don’t you think?”

Elliott risks a look and finds Felix’s eyes watching him nervously, although they dart away just as quickly, his shoulders tucking forward. He takes a long sip of his drink through the straw, humming a non-committal answer.

He gulps down his mouthful of whiskey and steels himself to ask, “How is your first spring in Stardew Valley treating you?”

Felix glances up at him again, and his face turns red as he drops his gaze to offer, “It’s—It’s fine, um… I’m getting the hang of farming, I think.”

Intrigued, Elliott tips his head. “You didn’t know farming before coming here?”

“Mm-mm.” He shakes his head. “Grandpa just…left the farm to me. I’m still not sure why, why me over my dad or my uncles… I’ve only ever been out here a few times, and I wasn’t really old enough to remember it, anyway, but…yeah, he willed it to me.”

“That was some time ago,” Leah offers, eyes rounding with concern. Clearly, the topic of his family—and especially his grandfather—isn’t one she’d breached before. Elliott is inclined to agree—he’d thought the old man had passed away…what, four years ago now? Nearly five?

“It took me a while to get the nerve to quit my job at Joja,” he admits, and his shoulders tuck a little further, like he’s trying to make himself as small as possible. “It sucked, sure, but it was—it was steady, y’know?”

“Don’t I,” Elliott agrees, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Writing only pays the bills when you actually have something published.”

“You could ghostwrite,” Leah suggests for the hundredth time.

“I have standards, my love,” he scoffs, waving a hand dismissively at her. “Ghostwrite? And not have my name and face on the things I pour all my heart and soul into? No, thank you.”

Once the conversation is off of him, Felix seems to relax more, and by the bottom of his third drink, his cheeks are colored with intoxication but he’s laughing along with them. Emily takes some sporadic breaks to spend time sitting too-close to Leah, and Felix even joins in with Elliott in ribbing the two of them to just kiss already, which turns them both a flustered pink.

By the time he feels leaden with liquor, it’s well past midnight. Elliott pushes himself to his feet with an exaggerated grunt, eats the last of their shared pepper poppers, and announces, “I am going to go lay in the sand until the ocean reclaims me.”

“Coward,” Leah taunts, sucking down her second water. “How boring. You never close down the saloon with me anymore. You got all old and boring, Ellie.”

“I have a much longer walk than you, my dearest,” Elliott replies, patting her soothingly on the arm. “And inspiration oft strikes when the moon is full.”

He turns his attention to Felix, who is picking stray pieces of breading and cheese from the wax paper. He looks up, though, as if feeling Elliott’s gaze, and boldly says, “It was good to get to know you, Elliott.”

“And you, Felix,” he agrees, holding out a hand. When Felix takes it, clearly expecting a handshake, Elliott (he’s drunk, he’s so drunk, that’s the only reason he thought this was a good idea, obviously) just brings it up and lays a chaste kiss to his fingers.

Leah shrieks in delighted laughter. Felix’s mouth falls open as he goes cherry red, dumbfounded.

“Take care in your walk home,” Elliott murmurs against his skin, and returns his hand gently to the table before leaving the saloon.

The brisk night air almost immediately snaps him more awake as the doors shut behind him, but even so, he can’t really bring himself to be embarrassed. He turns his face into the night and smiles like a giddy schoolboy as he walks.

Under the smell of the bar and their food, his skin had smelled fresh like rain and earth, and sweet like peaches. Elliott is already obsessed.

God, he is down horrendous.

He somehow makes it through the front door of his cabin before he makes the decision out loud.

“I’m going to court him,” he announces to his single-room house, throwing his arms wide like a playactor. “I’m going to court the shit out of him.”

<><><>

Leah: How’d that work for you, Mr. “I will not be fawning over him tonight”?

Elliott: I firmly believe you were put on this earth to torment me.

Leah: The theory has merit—I’ve not seen any evidence to the contrary, and I do get joy from it.

[elizmanderson]

Asking all the writeblrs I love to grow a vast garden, apologies if I ask the same thing twice *

Hello! I'm attempting to grow a Tumblr garden, with input from people around here to make a series of short stories about' houseplant fairies. The hope would be to have a 'community tumblr garden' full of all the wholesomeness the internet can offer.

Here's the request/seed - do you have a prior worry' or 'stumbling block'. perhaps an event or a piece of advice others told you that didn't help much or simply an' obstacle that you overcame. To be honest, I'm unsure of how to accurately describe 'the seed' but something in the realm of 'society expectations versus what actually helped- or whatever you wish? Also also, favorite plant/houseplant/ flower to write the story about.

Thanks for participating :)

...I'm actually not sure what you're asking for, like are you requesting that I write a short story? unclear. I'm not going to do that regardless, both because I'm working on other things right now and because I don't prefer to work from prompts that have been yeeted at me (remember in like middle school when your teacher would give the class a journal prompt and then you'd have to write from that? actual torture), but it sounds like also you're asking for an advice or experience share, which I can do

for all writers: find your people

actually this goes for all artists of any kind. many kinds of art seem very solitary. you might have an image in your head of a writer hunched alone over a laptop or notebook, scribbling away by themselves.

technically true, in a sense. but (a) it takes a village to bring a book into the world, whether that's an agent and editors and marketers and designers and printers to print a book and put it on bookshelves or the volunteers running AO3 and other fanfic sites working to keep the site running so you can share your writing with other fans. and (b) writing is hard, and you need people in your corner to cheer you on and help you through the hard bits.

for publishing hopefuls: the only guarantee is a negative one

you can work and develop your craft and do everything right and never get an agent, or a book deal, or never sell a single copy of the book you self-published.

BUT.

if you don't keep working on your craft and putting yourself out there, you'll never get anywhere.

this doesn't mean you have to persevere if your mental health is suffering because of all the rejections and gatekeeping and bullshit, or even if your mental health is fine but you've just decided it's not worth it. it's okay to stop if you need to. temporarily. forever. you don't have to keep going if you don't want to.

but if you (like me) are spiteful, then remind yourself that you won't get anywhere if you don't keep putting yourself out there. that's the only guarantee in publishing. it's a hard pill to swallow, but I like to put it out there because there's a sort of toxic positivity surrounding querying where it's like "it only takes one yes!" and where you're discouraged from ever complaining even the least little bit about querying on main and the prevalent story you're likely to see on social media is "I never thought this would happen for me, but after three whole months I'm finally agented!" which is a good formula for existential despair and feeling like something is wrong with you and your story when you get into the trenches and find out the querying actually sucks and can take a really long time.

(that wasn't wholesome and I think I misunderstood the whole assignment, but. there you go lol)

[potsmart]

Blue Dream –  Modern Classic or Overhyped?

If you were a smoker between 2005 and 2016, you definitely remember a lot of Blue Dream on the menus of your local dispensary or in the bag of your favourite plug. Coming out of the Santa Cruz medical scene in the early 2000’s Blue Dream became so popular it was almost a joke amongst heads. In fact, the good name of Blue Dream by the late 2000’s had already become a punchline, much like “White Runts,” “Purple Punch” or other hype boy strains more recently.

The sativa dominant flower that tastes of berries and other more complex notes is still shrouded in mystery despite the popularity it enjoys. Adding to the confusion is the fact that the cannabis industry as a whole is notorious for repackaging flower that’s not selling well under a more popular strain name to move units. This common practice means that perhaps most bags of Blue Dream are in fact, something else all together. This practice of re-branding losers into winners often helps tarnish the good name of strains that are popular for a reason.

What makes real Blue Dream in particular even more rare is that it is a clone only strain. That means, the true cut of blue dream is genetically identical to the first plant. If you find yourself shopping for blue dream seeds, recognize that what you’re purchasing is either a “selfed” Blue Dream clone (a process where plants are forced into hermaphroditism to seed itself, i.e. inbreeding), an approximation of genetics that a breeder thought Blue Dream incorporated or a complete lie to sell other seeds that weren’t as popular.

The fact that it is a clone only strain is probably the only reason we know the region it came from. The cannabis industry can be so shady that lesser growers and breeders are constantly trying to take responsibility for work that isn’t even their own. There are famous strains that have been dug out of dumpsters of competitors, renamed and sold at top dollar. The industry is cut throat and the plants are secondary to the profits often. But because this plant had to be shared person to person, we have at least a trail of evidence of where it came from.

It’s crazy to think that a varietal like Blue Dream can be bred in Northern California and within a few years time become a household name like “Bubba Kush” or “Northern Lights” in a matter of years. So the haters must be wrong right? They must be only smoking fake Blue Dream right? To be fair, with the amount of fake Blue Dream on the market, maybe they are. And, of course the haters are wrong. Real Blue Dream grown correctly with love is a phenomenal strain. There is a reason classics are classics and it’s usually because it’s been a proven winner over an extended period. Blue Dream is no different.

So how do you know if you get the real Blue Dream. Listen, you don’t. Let’s be real. Unless you can go back to 2003 and buy an ounce from the first few dispos in Santa Cruz that were selling the cut, the rest is lore and hopefully you get the real thing. As a smoker during that time, I remember getting many, many different looking bags of “Blue Dream,” but sometimes I got what I believe was the real deal. This opinion is based off the consistency of the “good” bags versus the inconsistency of the other so-called “Blue Dreams” I received.

What I believed to be the real Blue Dream was a light green coloured bud with small orange hairs. Cured correctly, the smell was potent, but not insanely so. It smelled just like blueberries, like marijuana blueberries. The effects were on the strong side of mild if that makes any sense. It wasn’t the hardest hitting bag, but it wasn’t disappointing. Usually I would feel uplifted and sociable.

The best bag I ever received was gifted to me in Oklahoma, an ounce of beautiful, sticky pale green buds in a ziplock bag. Some of the worst I’ve gotten was purchased in Southern California at a dispensary, so really you can’t judge the authenticity by the point of purchase even. Perhaps the only way to find the elusive strain is to try a lot of “Blue Dreams” until you find a consistent set of traits within a few different growers. Even then you only really know that all those growers are growing the same cut of something named “Blue Dream” but if the look, smell and effect all line up it’s a decent bet you’ve got the genuine article. After all, as a clone only strain, they should all be fairly homogenous. The only variations would be in growing and curing, which to be fair can make something dank into something terrible.

All that said, this here looks like some Blue Dream. There’s only one way to find out I guess.

By the Potmaster General, for Potsmart

[rockislandadultreads]

Book Recommendations: Gardening

Four-Season Food Gardening by Misilla dela Llana

Unlike most other vegetable gardening books on the market, this one approaches the subject through the lens of what you can grow during each of the four seasons, even if you live in a cold climate. Using season-extension techniques, such as cold frames, mini hoop houses, and thick mulches, combined with a thoughtful mixture of annual and perennial crops, you’ll discover that eating from your backyard through all 12 months is possible.

With a hearty dose of enthusiasm and expertise, author Misilla dela Llana of YouTube’s "Learn to Grow" channel presents this season-by-season guide to growing edible plants, covering everything from what tasks and what crops are best for each harvesting season to step-by-step DIY projects for structures and methods to temper weather extremes. With Four-Season Food Gardening you can keep on growing, no matter what challenges Mother Nature presents.

Inside, you’ll find info on:

Veggies you can harvest in the dead of winter

Foods that come from perennial plants you harvest from for many years

How to build and use cold frames and other season extenders to prolong your harvest

Tips for incorporating layers of edible plants to maximize space

Pruning, planting, and maintenance advice for dozens of crops

Seasonal maintenance and harvesting know-how from a pro

Beginning Seed Saving for the Home Gardener by Jim Ulager

This volume explores how seed saving is not only easier than we think, but that it is essential for vibrant, independent, and bountiful gardens.

Many home gardeners refuse to eat a grocery store tomato, but routinely obtain seeds commercially, sometimes from thousands of miles away. And while seed saving can appear mysterious and intimidating, even home gardeners with limited time and space can experience the joy and independence it brings, freeing them from industry and the annual commercial seed order.

Coverage includes:

Why seed saving belongs in the home garden

Principles of vegetative and sexual reproduction

Easy inbreeding plants, including legumes, lettuce, tomatoes, and peppers

Plants with a few more challenges, including squash, spinach, onions, and parsley

Brief discussion of more difficult crops, including corn, carrots, and cabbage.

Written by a home seed saver for the home seed saver, Beginning Seed Saving for the Home Gardener is a comprehensive guide for those who want to reclaim our seed heritage, highlighting the importance of saving seeds for you, your neighbors, and most importantly, subsequent generations.

Your Indoor Herb Garden by D.J. Herda

Learn how to grow herbs for health, for taste, and for life with Your Indoor Herb Garden, a comprehensive guide to growing herbs indoors. Featuring all the tips and guidance you'll need to grow and harvest organic culinary and medicinal herbs right in your own home. Coverage includes:

Techniques for successfully growing herbs indoors

Equipment, soil types, and feeding

Why indoor herb gardens are an important part of life, from cooking to healing

Herbal medicine

Herbal history and lore

An annotated glossary of herbs, including their common uses, growing requirements, cautions, and more.

This is the ideal practical guide for gardeners and cooks with an interest in healthy living and fresh flavors looking to create their own indoor herb garden anywhere.

Garden Allies by Frédérique Lavoipierre

The birds, mammals, reptiles, and insects that inhabit our yards and gardens are overwhelmingly on our side - they are not our enemies, but instead our allies. They pollinate our flowers and vegetable crops, and they keep pests in check. In Garden Allies, Frédérique Lavoipierre shares fascinating portraits of these creatures, describing their life cycles and showing how they keep the garden’s ecology in balance. Also included is helpful information on how to nurture and welcome these valuable creatures into your garden. With beautiful pen-and-ink drawings by Craig Latker, Garden Allies invites you to make friends with the creatures that fill your garden - the reward is a renewed sense of nature’s beauty and a garden humming with life.

[loveoaths]

"i never said you were stupid. not out loud." for din baby

Set in the In the Shadow of the Valley (Padawan!Din AU). AU Summary: When young Force-sensitive Death Watch assassin Din Djarin fails his mission to kill Anakin Skywalker, he expects the Jedi to kill him. What actually happens is far, far worse: Skywalker makes him his padawan. ( AU Playlist. )

Din Djarin is not much of a talker.

Growing up on Aq Vetina he was bashful and shy, clinging to his mother’s skirts as she bargained at the market, or getting happily dragged into trouble by his fearless little sister. He was no good with words, but he was an honest child who shared his thoughts with those who loved him enough to ask, and in the company of love the words tucked like seeds beneath his tongue flourished green and sweet as summer fruit; simple, maybe, but lovelier for it.

Then they died – They were murdered, the voices of his Death Watch instructors hiss in his head; Death is no accident, never forget that, boy –  and the flowers in his mouth died with them.

Death Watch took him in, and any inclination of speaking his mind was beaten out of him. He was a soldier, a weapon to be used. He learned to hold his tongue and his blaster with the same deadly grip. Those were the rules.

Then, through a series of events that still baffle him years later, the Jedi Anakin Skywalker took him in, and suddenly the rules changed all over again. Always speak your mind, even if you think I don’t want to hear it, because I do. I want to know you, Master Skywalker would coax him when they were alone, So tell me what’s rattling around in that tin can of yours.

This was… Difficult, in the beginning, but over the last year they’ve come to understand each other, and sharing his thoughts with his Master became second nature.

It’s also caused a lot of disagreements, like the one they’re in right now.

“...I never said you were stupid,” Din says once the ship breaks free of Florrum’s atmosphere and there’s no longer a possibility his Master will Force throw him out of the airlock.

He can hear Anakin’s fists tighten around the steering mechanism, his Force signature swarming the cockpit with rippling displeasure, and, oh, he’s angry.  Beskar capuor ni, but he isn’t backing down without cause. Din clears his throat, grateful the Jedi code allows him to continue wearing his buy’ce so his Master cannot see him nervously sucking on his bottom lip. “...Not out loud.” 

“Not out loud, no,” Anakin’s voice coils in on itself, a wounded creature hunching over what hurts with teeth bared. “But you said my plan was, and I quote, ‘as sensible as a concussed gundark.’ In front of the a pirate horde. That’s worse than stupid.”

“So was your plan,” Din returns mildly, meeting Anakin’s sharp look head-on through the T-visor. “You aren’t stupid, Master. You just act like it sometimes.”

“This is why I don’t like you hanging around Obi-wan,” Anakin mutters darkly, but the storm cloud thundering across his face mellows into something wicked as he leans forward, durasteel finger brushing against the hyperspace switch.  “At least I’m smart enough not to piss off the pilot.” Din has time to spit out a huh before Anakin punches the button and Din’s head slams back against his chair with a loud thunk.

Star-streaks and hearty laughter swirl around Din’s sore skull, but he smiles in spite of himself because, yeah, maybe he deserved that one.

And anyway, a sore spot is a small price to pay for knocking his Master down a peg or two.

Still accepting drabble requests and prompts !

[sinhasfluffyheadfur]

self indulgent birthday ramble read at your own risk

usually I would just spill something like this to my bf but I felt like using my tumblr to its fullest I’m killing the part that cringes

this is what the happy hungry bunch would get me as bday gifts because they’re my family forever and ever

Yun is the first to be like oh it’s birthday time. we have some extra money everyone take some and go buy something for the bday boy this is an order. he drags me off to go (metaphorical)window shopping and gets me peaches(fave fruit) as a treat. he also buys a bit of this fabric I pointed out as having a pretty design because my pants had a hole in the knee and he saw that opportunity and took it. now my pants get a cute patch on them and it’s also a practical gift(very Yun core)

Sinha is looking around like uhh what should I buy when Ao runs off and he ends up at a little stall selling small handmade animal charms and he ofc gets a squirrel one. Ao’s own gift is an acorn(of course) with the seed loose and you can hear it rattling around inside when you shake the acorn (this is based off an actual acorn that I have and is my favorite)

Kija finds a pretty flower nearby the market and Jaeha suggests he gets it pressed so it won’t just die. Jaeha gets some metal wires bent to resemble dragonfly wings that were originally earrings but also work as just a cool little thing to have

Yona and Hak are looking for stuff together when Hak spots a cool rock on the ground and is like ‘they would appreciate this rock. that’s my gift solved’ but Yona is skeptical until he reminds her that I keep picking up cool pine cones, rocks, sticks, etc, carrying them around, and then leaving them in tree hollows. Yona buys a shiny rock to outdo him and the shopkeeper tells her it symbolizes strong bonds of friendship and she’s like ‘perfect :)’

Zeno told the others they should buy something small because he planned to buy a little pouch that I could hold all the gifts in and wear around my neck. he also bought food for himself but he came back to share it with me and almost got lectured by Yun for buying himself food

also there’s this I’m too lazy to finish me hugging Yun because I somehow always do the most difficult to puzzle out hug poses but drawing this made me happy and that’s what counts

[piscesseer]

Lughnasadh: The First Harvest

Lughnasadh is a pagan holiday that falls on the first of August to celebrate the beginning of the harvest season. It’s also known as Lughnasa, and Alban Heruin.

This holiday celebrates the abundance of the growing season as we look forward to the rest of the harvest. It's time to give thanks for the first fruits of the harvest, enjoy the fruits of one's labor and to celebrate the abundance of the earth. It is also a time to reflect on the past year and to look forward to the future. Be grateful for the blessings in one's life and appreciate the beauty of the world around us.

The origins of this day are Celtic. According to the lore, the Celtic God Lugh prevailed over the evil Balor, and saved crops from scorching. Lugh is a god of light, healing, and knowledge, and his victory over Balor is a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there is always hope for a better future. The crops that were saved from scorching represent the abundance and prosperity that comes with the light of the sun. We give thanks for the light of the sun and celebrate the victory of light over darkness.

Lughnasadh has been interchanged with the Christian holiday Lammas, or Loaf-mass. This holiday also celebrates the abundance of the growing season. It was customary for bread to be baked and blessed at the church. Today, it has been taken up with many neopagan religions, along with Christianity. While today the importance of the first harvest may not be as prevalent today, the idea of spiritual harvest is encouraged. This is a time of growth and renewed energy.

Lughnasadh and Lammas are often interchanged, but it’s important to know that the roots of the holidays are different. In time, they have come together to celebrate the first harvest, celebrate spiritual and personal growth, and enjoy the abundance of the Earth. Celebrate what feels right to you!

If you have set intentions this year and have been working with it through the seasons, now is the time to reflect on how you have grown and what these intentions are bringing you. 

Reflect on how your seeds from Imbolc have become ripe and vibrant. Think about all the hard work you put into them, from planting them to watering them and caring for them. Think about how they have grown and changed over time. Be proud of yourself for what you have accomplished. They are a reminder of your own strength and potential. Give thanks for Earth’s bounty and the beauty that surrounds us.

There are many ways to celebrate Lughnasadh. Some people attend festivals, while others hold feasts or go on picnics. Some people also make offerings to Lugh, such as bread or ale.

Here are some ideas for celebrating Lughnasadh:

Go on a walk to observe the changes in nature, check on your garden and gather herbs for spellwork. Go to the Farmer's Market, go apple picking or berry picking.

Spend time in the kitchen or around food, especially those that are associated with the harvest season, can be a great way to connect with nature and the cycle of life. Mess around with new recipes! Bake bread or toast bread you buy with herbs. Eat some late summer fruits.

Have a bonfire, picnic or dinner. Invite friends and family.  Share a brew with a loved one.

Decorate your home or alter. Tidy up your house and refresh your altar. Here are some symbols to add to your decor and alter: - wheat, corn, grains, or sunflowers - the colors green, orange and yellow. - animal symbols such as crows, pigs, calves, roosters and salmon. - more herbs, plants and flowers to use are oak trees, apple, basil, marigold, rose, rosemary

Update your witchy journals. Reflect on your talents and goals. Make a gratitude list.

Make Sun Water, used for protection, healing, clairvoyance, happiness, fertility, and creativity. Fill up a jar with water and put it on a windowsill or outside. The perfect time to place it is early morning. Add crystals, herbs and flowers if you want.

Fire and Sun spells are great around this time. Prosperity spells are wonderful too.

Lughnasadh is a time to celebrate the beauty of the natural world and the bounty of the harvest. It is a time to give thanks for all that we have and to look forward to the future. Find ways to celebrate that resonate with you. These are just suggestions that might inspire you!