#conservation cemetery

[lifeafterlifeparks]

Happy 89th Birthday Jane Goodall! - From Life After Life

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

Donald Trump on Sunday called for President Joe Biden to take down an attack ad featuring a series of quotes attributed to the Republican in which he mocks dead soldiers.

The former president’s demand came on the same day that Biden honored fallen troops in a visit to the Aisne-Marne American Cemetery in France, the burial ground that Trump chose not to visit in 2018 and was later reported to have done so while describing the site as “filled with losers.” Trump has denied making the remark—and another in which he allegedly called more than 1,800 Marines “suckers” for being killed—ever since The Atlantic first published his purported words in 2020.

Those denials continued Sunday, first at a rally in Las Vegas. “He said I stood over graves of soldiers and I said: ‘These people are suckers and losers, the dead soldiers from World War I,’’ Trump said, referring to Biden. He went on to claim the whole episode was “made up” and, despite the Biden campaign knowing it’s “phony,” they still “took an ad using it—these are sick people.”

Trump appeared to be referring to an attack ad launched by the Biden campaign on Friday during the president’s visit to Normandy for ceremonies commemorating the 80th anniversary of the D-Day landings. The video featured the reported “suckers” and “losers” quotes, along with audio of Trump mocking the late Sen. John McCain (R-AZ) as being thought of as a “war hero” because he was captured during the Vietnam War. “I like people that weren’t captured,” Trump added.

“Donald Trump doesn’t know a damn thing about service to his country,” read a post on Biden’s X account featuring the clip.

At the rally in Vegas, Trump accused his political opponents of fabricating stories about him in order to get elected. “Unless you’re a psycho or a crazy person or a very stupid person, who would say that, anyway?” Trump said, referring to the “suckers” and “losers” comments.

He also took a swipe at the “geniuses” who advised him simply not to mention the allegation. “It just never goes away, I gotta mention it,” Trump told his supporters. “I don’t like mentioning it. But for me to say ‘suckers and losers’ about people that died in World War I in front of military people? It’s not a possibility you could say a thing like that.”

Trump’s fury about the matter continued in a pair of Truth Social posts Sunday. He dismissed the “losers and suckers” claim as “another Democrat Disinformation ‘hit job’” and said only “a sicko with an axe to grind would suggest that anyone would make such a statement.”

“They even made these horrific words into an advertisement, which shows how desperate they are,” the post continued. “No President, especially ‘dumb as a rock’ Joe Biden, has done more for our Military than DONALD J. TRUMP. The Military hates Crooked Joe, and all of the failure he represents. Take down the Fake Ad, Joe, and stop the unprecedented Weaponization of ‘Justice’ against your Political Opponent.”

In another post, he again claimed to have “never said that dead Soldiers are ‘losers and suckers.’”

“Anytime you see that despicable FAKE statement used, remember that it comes from the FASCIST SCUM that is destroying our Country,” he wrote.

[blackbackedjackal]

I am gonna step away from using vulture culture and just stick to taxidermist.

I’m tired of seeing so much fucked up stuff in the community, and I don’t think I can really sit and defend it in the current state it’s in. I’ll keep my resources as is for now and still post in the tags a bit, but I really don’t want to be associated in a space where people are actively promoting illegal/unethical trade of animal parts or animal suffering for the sake of collecting.

[brickcollector]

I do NOT have pronouns when sending work emails

i am simply a blurry entity behind a wall of text asking for more information on local cemetery sites

no pronouns just a need for information now thanks

[mariasmemo]

Stone Monument Conservation

On Saturday, June 10, the MMA in conjunction with the Prospect Hill Cemetery, will offer our yearly stone monument conservation workshop.  In 2022, we cleaned the stone of Lydia Coffin Hussey. (Seen in image after cleaning - but before the solution does its real magic.)  Why?  Because the MMA has in its collection a small wooden marker which was likely discarded and found at the dump.  On it was a number and Lydia Coffin Hussey’s name written in pencil.  Likely, this marker was placed at her burial site until a stone could be erected – in order to mark her gravesite though it’s in a larger family plot.  With a little digging – in great part thanks Tuck’t In by Prospect Hill Cemetery historian, Paula Lundy Levy – we were able to glean some basic details about her. She married the Reverend Christopher Coffin Hussey – yes, Coffin was in both their names, small island – and they had three daughters – two of whom are buried in the lot.  One died at age 16; the other at age forty-four – she may have married or been single.  If she was married and died before her husband, burying her in her family’s plot makes sense.  (Sally Mitchell Barney – Maria Mitchell’s oldest sister – died before her husband. She was buried in the Mitchell family plot and her husband remarried.  When he died, he was buried in his second wife’s family plot.)

Lydia’s husband, Christopher, while raised as a Quaker would later become an ordained Universalist minister with parishes off-island.  He also was a collector of island stories and after his death, a book he was working on, was completed by Lydia and published in 1901. I believe Lydia may not have had a marker for a long time because she died before at least two – if not all three – of her children.  That may have left her with no one to oversee a proper internment.  In Tuck’t In there is mention that records show the stone was still not there in 2007 – but I believe the records are likely wrong as the stone is there.  Last year, we cleaned it.  This year we hope to clean the stones of her two daughters who are interred in the plot (at rear in image).

Please join us. Registration is necessary and available on the MMA website at: https://112458a.blackbaudhosting.com/112458a/Preserving-the-Monuments-of-Our-Ancestors-How-to-Properly-Clean-Historic-Gravestones 

Note: We utilize a special cleaner made for stone monuments and a proper conservation process.  One must be trained in such cleaning and in using the proper tools and cleaner. One must also have permission form the cemetery to clean a stone – even of one’s own family – and one must never clean stones without permission from family members or descendants.  Of further note: in many places, gravestone rubbings are illegal – it destroys the stone.

JNLF

[ajl1963]

October Deco Doings

Autumn by William Welsh, 1930. Image from Pinterest. Here are some Art Deco events to enjoy this October.   New York Historical Society The Art of Winold Reiss: An Immigrant Modernist (In Person Event)      Friday, July 1 – Sunday, October 9, 2022 New York Historical Society, 170 Central Park West, New York, New York.   Cincinnati Art Museum Unlocking an Art Deco Bedroom by Joseph Urban (In…

[insideawful]

Selfless service to the deceased. 🕯️

Grateful my city has a great volunteer program for cemetery conservation.

[insidecroydon]

Council slammed over plans to create HMO in public cemetery

Residents in Beddington are up in arms over ‘insensitive’ council plans to convert a former caretaker’s lodge in a cemetery into an HMO – a house in multiple occupation – without consulting local residents. Haunting house: The Lodge at Bandon Hill Cemetery, which LibDems and Tories want to convert into homes for three immigrant families Bandon Hill Cemetery, on Plough Lane, Beddington, is jointly…

[readingrecap]

🗓️ This Week in Meetings 8/7 - 8/11

Here is the list of all the meetings with agendas currently scheduled for this week in Reading. As always, this list is only up to date as of Monday morning and new meetings or modifications can be added/revised at anytime. For PDF’s of the agendas, please click on the meeting name. Please check out https://www.readingma.gov for any changes. Monday Board of Cemetery Trustees –…

[biglisbonnews]

Ol Pejeta Rhino Cemetery in Nanyuki, Kenya The Rhino Cemetery of the Ol Pejeta Conservancy in Nanyuki, Kenya, might be one of the loveliest and saddest places on Earth.   Sixteen gravestones in two neat rows lay beneath a solitary acacia tree on the windswept savannah of the Ol Pejeta wildlife sanctuary. Each grave represents a rhinoceros killed by poachers on Conservancy property since its founding in 2004. The grave markers are stone cairns, and the front of each cairn holds a bronze plaque that bears the Rhino's name, gender and species, dates, and the circumstances of their death. The Rhino Cemetery was established in 2014 and fittingly opened on September 22: World Rhino Day. The illegal trafficking of rhinoceros horn, incorrectly believed to have value as a medicine and aphrodisiac, threatens the animals' survival worldwide. The grave markers illustrate the horrors of poaching. For example, a 20-year-old female black rhino, Ishirini, was found on February 22, 2016, bleeding and writhing in pain from being shot with poisoned arrows. Both her horns had been cut off her still living body. She was 12 months pregnant at the time of her death. Max, a six-year-old male black rhino, was killed despite being dehorned as protection from poaching. The poachers removed his small, regrowing horn nubs. There are similar stories for each of the murdered rhinos. Additionally, the Cemetery contains the graves of four rhinoceros whose lives and histories were significant to Ol Pejeta and who became ambassadors for their species. Especially poignant is the grave of Sudan, the last known male Northern white rhinoceros. In December 2009, Sudan was moved from the Dvůr Králové Zoo in the Czech Republic to the Ol Pejeta Conservancy for a "Last Chance to Survive" breeding program. Accompanying him were Suni, another male, as well as Sudan's daughter, Najin, and his granddaughter, Fatu. The four rhinos were the last known members of their subspecies which had been decimated by poaching, habitat loss, and civil war.  Unfortunately, attempts to breed the rhinos in Kenya were unsuccessful. Preceded in death by Suni, Sudan succumbed to the infirmities of old age on March 19, 2018, and his death made worldwide headlines. He was 45. At the time of Sudan's death, the Northern white rhino subspecies became functionally extinct. Mother and daughter, Najin and Fatu, are the last known surviving Northern white rhinos, and can no longer bear offspring. However, some hope for their subspecies remains. Using IVF procedures, scientists successfully created embryos from fresh eggs collected from Najin and Fatu and frozen sperm from deceased males. They hope to successfully implant the embryos in Southern white rhinos who will carry them as surrogate mothers. The last remaining Northern white rhinos can be visited in their compound at Ol Pejeta, where their keepers and armed guards protect them day and night. Ol Pejeta Conservancy was founded in 2004 as a not-for-profit wildlife sanctuary. The property is situated on the Equator in central Kenya and encompasses 140 square miles. Originally established as a sanctuary for the endangered Black Rhino, the Conservancy is home to Africa's "Big Five," as well as dozens of common and endangered animal and bird species. In 2014, Ol Pejeta was designated a "Key 1" sanctuary for black rhinos upon the birth of its 100th calf. The Conservancy is also home to the Sweetwaters Chimpanzee Sanctuary, founded in partnership with the Jane Goodall Institute and established as a lifetime refuge for orphaned and abused chimpanzees. https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/ol-pejeta-rhino-cemetery

[dutiful-wildcraft]

Restoration Worship

Nikolai x Fat F! Reader Tags: monsterfucking, gargoyles, dubcon, overstimulation, tail sex, anal play, double penetration, squirting, cunnilingus, p in v, dirty talk.  I think thats about it, I think yall should know by now that every reader I write is fat, blacked out and wrote 3K words of gargoyle smut sooo… enjoy!

It had begun as a research effort, a little trip to the cemetery to hopefully procure some interesting insight into a little project she’d been working on for the museum. Eyes scanning over lichen covered graves and cracked mausoleums, words long faded in time. 

She’d seen the videos before. Kind strangers brushing away years of decay with a brush and patience. Who would we be without the knowledge from our predecessors after all? 

So with a passion for restoration and a need for busy hands she set to work, uncovering gracious prayers and one of the best cookie recipes she’d ever tasted set within the worn stone. 

It’s months before she comes across him. He’s a big boy, covered in lichen and the webs of spiders, stone stained heavily from the elements. Sharp claws curl into the pedestal he hunkers on, broad wings curled against his back, stone teeth bared in warning. 

Even like this he’s beautiful, strong features carved delicately in tarnished marble. 

She’d found her next project. 

A decade had passed since death had been at Nikolai’s doorstep, when he’d let the stone take him, closed himself off from the world to rest after an egregious injury. He’d watched over the lowly cemetery with weak eyes, until they too became covered. Until he’d lost himself to the void, consciousness falling into inky blackness as he waited amongst the trees. 

That is, until her.

His days had shifted from the chittering of squirrels and bird song to an incessant chatter. A soft english lilt that stirred something in his hazy mind. He likes the english. Past visions of old friends flash in his mind, warm dark skin, cigars, a mask made of bone. 

How could he forget? 

He strains, willing his senses back to life, listens harder for the soft voice amongst the tombstones. 

She talks to the dead, chattering away at graves that will never speak back to her. This graveyard is old, quiet, its occupants long passed over after they stopped burying the dead here, when their loved ones had long passed on themselves. 

She asks them questions, makes up stories, tells them about her day. She’s a museum conservator and she brings things back to life all the time. Making them shiny and new, loving them through hard work and careful hands so that others may get to love them too. 

And when she’s not talking she’s humming, or singing so off tune that even the birds grumble. But she’s laughing at herself,  looking up songs from the years written on the graves and playing those too, a little tune the deceased might be familiar with. 

Her voice bounces from grave to grave, and he realizes she’s cleaning them, scrubbing the dirt away and bidding them adieu when her task is finished. 

Sweet thing, he muses, wishing he could see her, wishing she would bring him to life too.

His dream comes true on a sunny afternoon, the summer rays warming his stone, waking him just a little more. 

She’s close, footsteps rustling the leaves at his feet as she circles him. 

“You keep watch don’t you?” she asks him seriously, and she’s right there. So close he can smell her, like blueberries and vanilla sugar, it’d make his mouth water if he could just move.

She speaks again, but he can barely register the words as warm gentle hands clear the infinite dark from his field of view. Brushing away vines and lichen.

“There! That’s better!” 

And there she is. A big soft girl, with sweet round cheeks flushed from the heat. He needs to hold her, crush her close and reward her for her kindness, but she’s gone just as quickly, promising to return to clean him properly, and his marble heart warms at the thought. He commits her form to memory, watching her soft braids sway against her back as she leaves.  

A longing seeping deep into his marrow as he lets the sleep take him again. 

She returns the following weekend, small spray rig and gentle cleaner in hand when she finds him again. She’s mindful, soft hands gently tugging at his limbs to test the durability before ambling her soft body onto his platform. It’s wonderful, to finally feel the heat of another against his skin, and he thinks if the sun weren’t touching him he could come to life now, tackle her into the soft grass and ravish her. He knows she’d be so sweet, whimpering and mewling under his touch. 

It would wait for another time. 

She works from the top down, soaking him with warm water before scrubbing him with soft bristle brushes. She’s delicate, leaning her soft body against his as she cleans, washing away years of dirt and moss. She scrubs behind his ears, in the bend of his horns, clearing the nests of insects from between his teeth. He revels in the feel of her, soft breasts and belly pressed to his skin, gentle hands stroking over the sensitive margins of his wings. Had he been mobile he’d be purring, with spread wings and stiff cock all over some gentle petting. 

He mourns when she leaves, water cooling against his stone as she packs up before nightfall. 

But it gives him time to practice.

It takes days, weeks, before he can move under the cover of night, limbs coming to life sluggishly, the world becoming more clear to his dulled senses. 

She returns like clockwork, spending the afternoons with him, chatting and humming, leaning against his platform as she eats her lunch. 

He can’t move far, just a few movements, but he gets greedy, finally willing his wings to open, letting them stretch pleasantly in the cool night air and freeze there when the sun freezes him again. 

She’s a bit startled when she returns, eyeing him with confusion and the broad reptilian wings spread proudly behind his back. Come closer love, they’ve always been this way.

Nevertheless she scrubs those too, warm hands petting over the webbing, ghost along the modified fingers of his wings. He has half a mind to wallow in the night, cover himself in more dirt if only to keep her trips regular. But he knows his time is coming to an end when she dusts away the last leaves from his pedestal. 

She has a final rest with him, his sweet keeper perched at his feet as she watches the sun disappear behind the trees. 

And finally, finally. As the soft light of the moon kisses his skin, he greets her. 

“Hello solnyshka” he purrs, voice low and gravely,  amusement crinkling pupil-less eyes, as he watches her nearly jump out of her skin. Scrambling away and whirling to take a look at the massive gargoyle.  He can see now, really see, and she’s lovely. Freckles dusting round cheeks, bulky denim and cotton hiding big soft curves underneath. 

She’s frozen, staring at him with wide eyes. He stretches, not unlike a cat, trembling slightly with the effort as he spreads his wings, lifts his hands above his head to crack his own spine, shaking away the stiffness from his tired bones. He relaxes again,  smiling at her fondly, revealing sharp fangs underneath. 

“I’m grateful for your work.” he calls again, taking a slow step off of his platform, clawed feet digging into the earth below. He is truly, his new keeper being the first ray of sun to truly grace his skin in decades. Just the light he needed to wake him from his slumber.  He needs to hold her, feel her softness under his claws. 

She swallows, clasping trembling hands in front of her. 

“I didn’t mean to be a bother, sir”

Sir.

He purrs at the honorific, but why did she think she was a bother? Had she not heard him?

“Not a bother, you’ve “restored” me” he chuckles, “quite well too” he adds looking over his limbs as he eases closer. “Call me Kolya.”

She repeats it, mimicking the accent just right, and being the polite thing she is, she gives him her name in return. It melts in his mouth like sugar, His pretty prize unaware of the hold she’s given him with just her name alone. 

“Come here, let me have a look at you”

She hesitates a moment before inching towards him, and he meets her halfway with a long stride, chin to his chest as he looks her up and down. His poor thing is so nervous. Fidgeting under his gaze, pulling, pushing and twisting at the joints of her fingers, desperate to get them to pop, to alleviate some of the tension in her body. 

He takes her hand in his, sliding a claw between her fingers to shake them loose, letting her soft little hand curl around his own. He dwarfs her, already half-hard with just her palm in his. He moves her carefully, flipping her hand over to trace a dark claw over the sensitive lines of her palm drawing a small shiver from her that has his cock twitching in interest. 

He continues, gliding his fingers up her arm, over her shoulder, toying briefly with the denim strap of her overalls. She’s bashful, keeping her eyes averted, a hot flush to her cheeks as he looks her over. 

“None of that” he chides, sliding his fingers beneath her chin, tilting her back. Her lips part, pupils blown as he smiles down at her, some of her nervousness melting away as he handles her so gently.  “So pretty, daragaya” and the stars in her eyes as he praises her break what little self control he has left. 

He’s quick, catching her round face in both hands and bending low, pressing a hungry kiss to her lips. She squirms briefly, hands flying up to grip his wrists in panic, he curls a tail around her calf, holding her neatly in place as he licks into her mouth, earning a soft gasp from his keeper as her lips part for him. 

Good gods, she even tastes sweet. 

He purrs happily into her mouth, savoring the taste of her flavored chapstick, the end of his tail flickering happily, brushing the soft curve of her ass. She’s panting now, a soft little whine bubbling from her throat at the contact. He dives low, licking a stripe across her jaw, reveling in the salt of her skin before nibbling and kissing his way down her throat, clawed fingers easily popping the cheap metal clasps of her outfit, pushing the denim away before yanking off the extra cotton shirt underneath. 

Nikolai thinks it should be forbidden for such soft curves to be hidden like that. She’s a vision, an angel with the most beautiful soft curves, and when he has her back in his den he’ll dress her in the finest silks and jewelry, pretty chains to hug her waist, dangle nicely between her breasts. Highlight all his favorite parts. He might even keep her bare, just for his eyes to see. 

She shivers in the cold, using her arms to cover her breasts as best as she could, eyes averted from his hungry gaze.  Why did she hide from him? There should be paintings of her, statues in her image. She was perfect. So warm and soft, he kneaded at the handles at her hips, clawed fingers tracing over the soft swell of her belly, the rolls at her sides, skin hot beneath his fingers. He huffs, snagging her wrists and holding them well above her head, using the extra digits at the ends of his wings to hold her there, pulled taught and vulnerable beneath his gaze.

With a sharp claw he rips away the scrap of fabric that covered her chest, large hands palming them eagerly, nipples pebbling under the warm drag of his thumbs. He hums, pinching and pulling at her perfect little tits, hard cock nudging incessantly at her belly, leaving glistening webs of pre-cum over her skin as she whimpers and gasps. 

“Kolya” she whines as he drags a hot tongue over her soft peaks, flicking his tongue over her pert skin before drawing a nipple into his mouth, nibbling and suckleing greedily. He breaks away, grinning up at her, sinking his teeth into the meat of her breast cheekily. She squirms, eyes squeezed tight and teeth dug into her plump lip as she tries halfheartedly to escape him. Though the wiggling only gives her tits a lovely jiggle that has him diving in again, nipping at her nipple just to earn himself another squeal. 

He kisses over the skin in a gentle apology before sliding down her belly, pressing a trail of hot kisses there before he reaches the seam of her panties, cute little curls peaking out around the edges at her thighs. He marvels at the dark stain of her arousal, pressing his nose into the soaked fabric and breathing deep. She bucks against his face, squirming madly to get some kind friction. Not so demure now are you?

“I’ll take care of you greedy girl, patience.” he warns, tail patting her ass fondly as he drags his tongue along the sodden fabric. He rips those away too, thick tongue sliding against her folds with little preamble, the resounding moan like music to his ears. Using his tail to tug her legs further apart, he lavishes her in earnest, slurping at her cunt like a beast, using his thumbs to spready her puffy lips apart. She’s heaven, sweet and tangy on his tongue, and he would stay here for hours, drinking her down until her legs gave out and then taking more. 

He sinks his tongue inside, licking into her tight heat as his nose brushes against her clit, humming wickedly as she cries and bucks. He takes control, dragging his claws up to grip her hips, guiding her into a nice and easy rhythm against his face. He loves every minute of it, reveling in the drag of her soaked folds against his tongue,  the broken whines as he breaks away to suck her clit. He drags her to the edge over and over, fucking his tongue back into her wet heat and nosing at her sensitive nerves until she’s gushing against his face with a choked cry. 

“So good, solnyshka” he praises, sitting back on his haunches to admire his work. He leans in, licking a hot stripe up her thigh, catching the errant rivulets of slick as they drip from her. 

“So wet, I bet we can make a bigger mess can’t we?” he purrs, dragging his knuckles against the soaked seam of her sex, drawing a tired whimper from her. She sags against his hold, chest flushed, and thighs soaked. He could devour her whole like this. 

He releases her, lifting her spent body into his arms, easing her down onto the clean pedestal that was once his. Pushing her legs apart he slides between them, sliding his neglected cock over her folds, using his tip to rub at her sensitive clit before sliding it along her body. He’s thick, head tapered to a near point, thick ridges rippling along underside of his shaft for a textured drag. Heavy balls kiss the seam of her sex as he rests there, tip drooling against her stomach. He needs her to see what she’s getting herself into, how much she’ll need to take for him. His soft girl looks up at him, big glassy eyes full of nervous anticipation. 

“I know” he coos, grinding himself against her skin, “you can take it, my perfect girl, we just need a little more room.”

He needs her pliant, well stretched to take him fully. With his claws as they were, using his fingers wasn’t an option,  but he does have another solution. Dragging a heavy palm through her slick he grabs hold of his tail, coating the tapered end thoroughly before guiding it toward her entrance, using a thumb to circle her clit as he slips inside. 

The tip is easy, no thicker than a couple of her fingers as it pushes its way inside, the glide nice and easy from her previous orgasm. He fucks nice and slow, thrusting the tip in shallowly until she’s whining for more. He leans over her, rutting his cock against the crease of her thigh as he sinks his tail in further, fucks into her with more speed, using his hands wisely to play with her tits, rolling her nipples between his fingers and nibbling at her lips to distract her from the stretch. She’s holding on for dear life, hands gripping his horns for purchase. 

Even as spent as she is, she clenches around him desperately, sweet pussy desperate to take as much of him as she can. He can’t wait to feel her pulsing against his cock. Wet and hot, and so so tight. 

He growls, rutting into her with more fervor. She’s close, chubby thighs clenching as he curls the tip of his tail a bit, just to bully more of his length inside of her. She’s lost in it, frantically kissing at his face as her peak draws closer and closer.  Sneaking a thumb against her clit she cums again, legs slamming shut against his tail as he fucks her through it, laughing as she sobs, shoving at him weakly as she gushes messily around him again, slick coating his abdomen and dribbling down the stone underneath. 

“Good girl, one more for me zoloste, I know you can do it.” He yanks her thighs apart pulling his tail from her greedy cunt and dragging her further down the pedestal, her plush ass hanging off the edge. He rests her thighs against his chest, kissing her ankle soothingly as he drags himself through her slick folds, thoroughly coating himself before lining up with her entrance. 

Even with the prep it’s a tight squeeze. He takes it slow, bullying his way inside her soaked heat, gummy walls squeezing him tight as he sinks in, whimpering as the ridges of his cock drag against her sore entrance.  He fucks slowly, pumping in shallow thrusts before he pulls out again, teasing her tired clit and pushing in again, head thrown back with victorious groan as he finally pushes himself to the hilt. 

Its a gorgeous sight, her pussy split open on the girth of him, legs spread wide and clit twitching as he fucks her with tight shallow circles. She’s a mess, cheeks streaked with tears and trembling against the stone, whimpers and little hiccups falling from her lips. He hushes her, sliding his palms against her thighs, catching her hands to curl his fingers in hers, anchoring her there as he picks up the pace. 

She’s already close, cunt clenching around him with every thrust. He fucks into her with earnest, her pretty fat pussy swallowing him down to the balls as the sticky slap of it echoes through the cemetery. 

“Fuck, taking me like you were made for it.”  he snarls bending over her to lick into her mouth, swallowing every little cry and plea as he fucks her mercilessly, soft body jiggling with the harshness of it. 

“You’ll give me anything won’t you? Let me fill up this pretty pussy.” he pants, yanking her closer, and with a sick knowing grin, his tail slides underneath her, slick tip toying with her asshole. “Let me fill this pretty ass too, wouldn’t you?”

“Anything you want, Kolya, please, please,”  she begs, his perfect girl cock drunk and hazy, tears spilling down her cheeks as she rocks into him for more. 

“Don’t even know what's good for you, silly girl, you’d let me tear you in two.” he chuckles, “ but I’ll give you a little taste.” His tip slides between her cheeks, already slick from her own juices.  He teases her there, flickering playfully at her hole before sinking in slowly, pushing just past her tight ring of muscle to fill her up, groaning at the feel of his own cock sliding against her walls. 

Her next orgasm takes her like a freight train, soft body arching and trembling as it ravages through her. He fucks her through it, pussy clenching him like a vice as he pulls his tail from her ass, sharp claws digging into the meat of her hips hard enough to draw blood as he chases his own end. 

Snarling like a beast he pounds into her, sinking himself deep as he comes with a low growl, painting her insides with long spurts. Filling her completely until his spend seeps out around his cock, spilling down her thighs and into the soft earth below. 

He holds them there like that, cock buried deep as he marks her from the inside out, his bulky head resting against her breasts as they both come down. 

His, his, his. 

His perfect soft girl, flushed and damp from sweat and slick, trembling hands carding though his dark hair.  Kind and gentle despite the way he ravaged her. 

And when she leans up, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips with a nervous giggle, he knows he’ll guard her for the rest of his days. 

[lifeafterlifeparks]

Out of Sight, Out of Mind: The Unexpected Importance of Bats, Past and Present

Throughout history, bats have been associated with vampires and the macabre, but did you know that bats also play a crucial role in the history of agriculture?

Many bats help to reduce crop damage by preying on pest and their droppings “Guano” are a rich source of fertilizer used through history to increase crop yields. Bats are considered to be farmers allies. Some bats also play an important role in pollinating crops. Several species of bats feed on the nectar of flowers, and as they move from one flower to another, they transfer pollen, helping to fertilize the plants. This is particularly important for plants that rely on bat pollinators, such as agave, which is used to produce tequila.

Guano is a valuable natural fertilizer that has been used by humans for centuries. It is rich in nitrogen, phosphorus, and potassium, which are essential nutrients for plant growth. In fact, bat guano was one of the earliest natural fertilizers used in agriculture, and it is still used today by organic farmers and gardeners. However, over time, the collection of bat guano for commercial use has had negative impacts on bat populations.

Guano is also important for the preservation of caves. It provides a nutrient source for the ecosystem, supporting the growth of bacteria and fungi that break down organic matter and recycle nutrients. In addition, bat guano can help to stabilize cave sediments and prevent erosion, which is important for the preservation of archaeological and paleontological sites.

Guano is a very slow to recover natural resource. Excessive harvesting for agriculture has disrupted the delicate balance of the ecosystem in many places, leading to a decline in the biodiversity that supported bat populations. In turn, the benefits from those bats have disappeared.

Bats provide a valuable ecosystem service by controlling pests and fertilizing crops, their conservation should be a priority for farmers and policymakers. By adopting bat-friendly farming practices, such as providing bat roosts and protecting bat habitats, farmers can help to ensure the continued success of agriculture, while also supporting the conservation of these important animals.

As it comes to renewable resources, it’s to be responsible with our consumption. The cascading effects of over consumption are complicated and often unexpected. Like with bats, our lives are tied to the healthy functioning of the ecosystem in ways we often don’t think of. Small acts, whether good or bad, can have profoundly larger impacts.

[littlestpersimmon]

So many ppl here are so lame and always fail to read between the lines or just straight up enable propaganda.. like ppl straight up just love to reblog from zionists unchecked, as if palestinian resistance is in tandem with antisemitism. Everytime someone invokes antisemitism on this website it's never about how antizionist Jews in Germany and the US are getting arrested left and right, it's never about how Jews protesting genocide are literally shunned from entire Jewish communities, no it's always about "wow look at these evil Palestinian activists hating Jews source:dude trust me".. you got entire zionist blogs here who post the rubble in gaza, captioned "for he who sows the wind reaps the whirlwind" and then in the next post invoke a millenia of our peoples suffering you all fall for it. Every time. The problem also is that so many of you view arabs as one singular monolith so a zionist talking point is also how little Jews there are in the world, all stuck in one tiny nation surrounded by arabs. When in truth Israel discouraged the many many cultures of the Jewish world to flourish, to the point *yiddish* was banned, if you look at the conservation efforts for a lot of jewish languages like Ladino and Yevanic, very very few of them are in Israel, if it is a safe place for Jews then how come so much of Jewish culture is discouraged in the name of one, singular, modern ethnostate ? How come the Russian girl who was converting to Judaism who was killed on October 10 not allowed to be buried in a Jewish cemetery? And it is bizarre how so many of you are seeing Egyptians turning into literal millionaires, charging gazans trying to escape genocide 10k usd or more per person and still have the chutzpah to think all arabs are like this enigmatic and allied force, which is an orientalized brain in motion. My g-d. Thousands and thousands of years of enduring. Only to end up like this. I really cannot believe this is where we are at. I cannot believe it. I only have to hope this is not it. The heart fucking shatters.

[the-nettle-knight]

My thoughts on the Just Stop Oil publicity stunt at Stonehenge, as someone who worked there, an archaeologist and a pagan: I'm massively annoyed.

Not at JSO actually. At the hypocrisy I'm seeing everywhere.

I'm angry at the politicians who haven't said a word about the A303 tunnel that is going to do irreparable damage to the site and the archaeology. (don't get me wrong, I know a lot of the archaeologists who will be on the project, I have every faith in them, but it is a commercial venture, limited by time, budget and frankly just the techniques available to us now). It's going to be really bad for the environment.

I'm also annoyed at the online pagan community. I've seen so many neo pagans/wiccans with the most surface level "they've made an enemy of their closest allies" take. Well, we can see that you don't actually care about the environment if that's all it takes to turn you away from this. Closing a road would have created environmental damage from all the cars hanging around for hours! Also, where have they been in the campaign against the A303?

Or the fact that Salisbury Plain is being eaten up by new build housing estates that don't support the needs of the residents and stresses local services. Because Stonehenge is just the most famous archaeological monument on the Plain but there are tens, if not hundreds of sites that are being lost. I have literally worked on one- a Bronze Age barrow cemetery with several ring ditches, a potential Neolithic god-pole like structure, Iron Age, Roman and Anglo-Saxon settlement evidence. All destroyed by a new build estate that cannot be supported by local infrastructure, literally in terms of the roads.

They're also the sort of people who complain about the cost of Stonehenge. There is a very good reason that it's so expensive- it basically funds a significant chunk of Historic England (which is far more than just the monuments and sites you can visit). Many of HE's sites are free and they still need to be maintained, which is incredibly expensive. And they're the sort of people to culturally appropriate from other cultures, rather than looking to the archaeology they're fake outraged by.

The paint was made out of cornflour, so not actually a huge conservation issue (I mean, it would definitely better to have not happened but honestly probably the least worst option). The damage done by smog and other air pollution is significantly worse.

People should be angry that this is what people are being forced to do to have their voices heard.

[bunnyscrypt]

‎ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 🪦 rafe cameron’s weird girlfriend . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁🦇

✧̲͟͞͠✦̲͟͞͠✧

quiet. observant. sweet with a mean streak. clumsy as hell. masochist (which is why she likes to push rafes buttons knows he'll "punish" her). isn't afraid to speak her mind. tight dresses and tops that really show off the body. wears all black everything from heels to sharp claw nails to sunglasses. stands out and know it especially in the figure eight surrounded by floral dresses and polo shirts. an obsession with knives and taxidermy. sharp eyeliner with tons of mascara, lips adorned with red lipstick. bunny-coded— she will thump and kick shit over when she's overwhelmed. a high libido, down to it whenever and wherever and doesn't care whos around (which is great cause rafe doesn't care either) smells like leather, fresh cut grass, and fireplace smoke. hangs out in the cemetery behind her house. isn't afraid to fight and claw a bitchs eyes out. doesn't care for the kook v pogue 'rivalry'— finds its stupid as fuck. butts heads with kie and bullys tf outta topper. just as intense and insane as rafe. doesn't put up with his shit but loves when he disciplines her. anti-conservative. eyes rolling when morality is mentioned. all around charismatic with a love for the dramatics.

[mariasmemo]

A Walk Among the Dead

I love to walk in the cemetery.  The stones are quite beautiful, as is the landscape.  Is it sad? Yes, but its not creepy or scary.  Many of these people have been forgotten.  Though at the time of their death, their family did not think they would be – nor did those people before they died.  I find it sad to come across fallen or broken stones, stones that have been overgrown with weeds or a well-intended shrub that has now taken over the space after 100 years or so, or stones covered so heavily in lichens that you cannot read the name of the person buried there.  The young children (as the pictured stone is for), infants, teenagers, and young adults – that is all the more painful – as they were short-changed on life.  But the old people – those who lived a full and very long life – they got all the time.  This time of year when it’s cold and raw – and it was COLD for my walk – makes the loneliness feel stronger.

I have talk about cemeteries before.  I have noted that I clean stone monuments (gravestones) and run a workshop once a year to teach people how to properly clean stones.  There is a bit of a movement afoot – especially with Instagram and TikTok – where people record themselves cleaning stones and showing people how to do it.  Please be careful – some people are not trained and are doing it the wrong way.  The sound of a metal scraper sets my teeth on edge – that is NOT how you clean historic gravestone.  So, until you have some in-person training by someone who is qualified, do not do it! 

JNLF

This year’s stone cleaning workshop will be Saturday, June 15 from 10-Noon.  You will be able to register online for the class in the early spring.  There is a small fee – it covers the cost of the supplies.