#farm ground for lease

[iidgroupre]

- years to get ground lease and setup large scale energy development

Inflation reduction act

Capital and expertise has come in

Constraints today in solar is the transmission capacity and tariffs and restrictions with China for solar restrictions

https://www.linkedin.com/in/travis-godon-b4a772ba

[labuenosairesfrancaise]

Appuldurcombe House

Hi guys!!

I'm sharing Appuldurcombe House (abandoned/in ruins). This is the 20th building for my English Collection.

I decorated most of the house ground floor, for reference.

History of the house: 

Appuldurcombe House  is the shell of a large 18th-century English Baroque country house of the Worsley family. The house is situated near to Wroxall on the Isle of Wight, England. It is now managed by English Heritage and is open to the public. A small part of the 300-acre (1.2 km2; 0.47 sq mi) estate that once surrounded it is still intact, but other features of the estate are still visible in the surrounding farmland and nearby village of Wroxall, including the entrance to the park, the Freemantle Gate, now used only by farm animals and pedestrians.

Appuldurcombe began as a priory in 1100. It became a convent, then the Elizabethan home of the Leigh family. The large Tudor mansion was bequeathed in 1690 to Sir Robert Worsley, 4th Baronet, who began planning a suitable replacement.

The present house was begun in 1702. The architect was John James. Sir Robert never saw the house fully completed. He died on 29 July 1747; in his memory a monument was erected overlooking the house on Stenbury Down.

The house was greatly extended in the 1770s by his great-nephew Sir Richard Worsley, 7th Baronet Worsley of Appuldurcombe.

Worsley had left the estate saddled with heavy debts, but Appuldurcombe passed to his niece, Henrietta Anna Maria Charlotte (daughter of John Bridgeman Simpson). She married the Hon. Charles Anderson-Pelham, later first Earl of Yarborough, in 1806. The founder of the Royal Yacht Squadron at Cowes, he made few changes to the house and was quite happy to retain the property as a convenient base for his sailing activities.

Appuldurcombe House circa 1910

In 1855 the estate was sold. An unsuccessful business venture ran Appuldurcombe as a hotel, but with its failure, the house was then leased as Dr Pound's Academy for young gentlemen.

Advertisement for Appuldurcombe College 1889

Advertisement for Appuldurcombe College in the Times, London, April 19, 1889

The house was inhabited in 1901–1907 by a hundred Benedictine monks who had been exiled from Solesmes Abbey in France and were shortly to settle at Quarr Abbey on the Isle of Wight.

Although the house is now mainly a shell, its front section has been re-roofed and glazed, and a small part of the interior recreated. The house has become well known as one of the supposedly most haunted places on the island.

More history: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Appuldurcombe_House

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This house fits a 64X64  lot, but it coulf fit a 50x50 too.

I only decorated some of the important rooms. All the rest of the house is up to your taste to decor.

Hope you like it.

You will need the usual CC I use:

all Felixandre cc

all The Jim

SYB

Anachrosims

Regal Sims

King Falcon railing

The Golden Sanctuary

Cliffou

Dndr recolors

Harrie cc

Tuds

Lili's palace cc

Please enjoy, comment if you like the house and share pictures of your game!

Follow me on IG: https://www.instagram.com/sims4palaces/

@sims4palaces

Ealry acces: October 20

DOWNLOAD: https://www.patreon.com/posts/appuldurcombe-112466692

[centrally-unplanned]

Gonna make this a quick one since I just don’t have the spoons for a really big effort post: Pre-CCP 20th Century China Did Not Have Feudal or Slave-like Land Tenancy Systems

Obviously what counts as “slave-like” is going to be subjective, but I think it's common, for *ahem* reasons, for people to believe that in the 1930’s Chinese agriculture was dominated by massive-scale, absentee landlords who held the large majority of peasant workers in a virtual chokehold and dictated all terms of labor.

That is not how Chinese land ownership & agricultural systems worked. I am going to pull from Chinese Agriculture in the 1930s: Investigations into John Lossing Buck’s Rediscovered ‘Land Utilization in China’ Microdata, which is some of the best ground-level data you can get on how land use functioned, in practice, in China during the "Nanjing Decade" before WW2 ruins all data collection. It looks at a series of north-central provinces, which gives you the money table of this:

On average, 4/5ths of Chinese peasants owned land, and primarily farmed land that they owned. Tenancy was, by huge margins, the minority practice. I really don’t need to say more than this, but I'm going to because there is a deeper point I want to make. And it's fair to say that while this is representative of Northern China, Southern China did have higher tenancy rates - not crazy higher, but higher.

So let's look at those part-owner farmers; sounds bad right? Like they own part of their land, but it's not enough? Well, sometimes, but sometimes not:

A huge class (about ~1/3rd) of those part-owners were farming too much land, not too little; they were enterprising households renting land to expand their businesses. They would often engage in diversified production, like cash crops on the rented land and staple crops on their owned land. Many of them would actually leave some of their owned land fallow, because it wasn’t worth the time to farm!

Meanwhile the small part-owners and the landless tenant farmers would rent out land to earn a living…sometimes. Because that wasn’t the only way to make a living - trades existed. From our data, if you are a small part-owner, you got a substantial chunk of your income from non-farm labor; if you owned no land you got the majority of your income from non-farm labor:

(Notice how that includes child labor by default, welcome to pre-modernism!)

So the amount of people actually doing full-tenancy agriculture for a living is…pretty small, less than 10% for sure. But what did it look like for those who do? The tenancy rates can be pretty steep - 50/50 splits were very common. But that is deceiving actually; this would be called “share rent”, but other systems, such as cash rents, bulk crop rents, long-term leases with combined payment structures, etc, also existed and were plentiful - and most of those had lower rent rates. However, share rent did two things; one, it hedged against risk; in the case of a crop failure you weren't out anything as the tenant, a form of insurance. And two, it implied reciprocal obligations - the land owner was providing the seed, normally the tools as well, and other inputs like fertilizer.

Whether someone chose one type of tenancy agreement or the other was based on balancing their own labor availability, other wage opportunities, the type of crop being grown, and so on. From the data we have, negotiations were common around these types of agreements; a lot of land that was share rent one year would be cash rent another, because the tenants and market conditions shifted to encourage one or the other form.

I’m doing a little trick here, by throwing all these things at you. Remember the point at the top? “Was this system like slavery?” What defines slavery? To me, its a lack of options - that is the bedrock of a slave system. Labor that you are compelled by law to do, with no claim on the output of that work. And as I hit you with eight tiers of land ownership and tenancy agreements and multi-source household incomes, as you see that the median person renting out land to a tenant farmer was himself a farmer as a profession and by no means some noble in the city, what I hope becomes apparent is that the Chinese agricultural system was a fully liquid market based on choice and expected returns. By no means am I saying that it was a nice way to live; it was an awful way to live. But nowhere in this system was state coercion the bedrock of the labor system. China’s agricultural system was in fact one of the most free, commercial, and contract-based systems on the planet in the pre-modern era, that was a big source of why China as a society was so wealthy. It was a massive, moving market of opportunities for wages, loans, land ownership, tenancy agreements, haggled contracts, everyone trying in their own way to make the living that they could.

It's a system that left many poor, and to be clear injustices, robberies, corruption, oh for sure were legion. Particularly during the Warlord Era mass armies might just sweep in and confiscate all your hard currency and fresh crops. But, even ignoring that the whole ‘poverty’ thing is 90% tech level and there was no amount of redistribution that was going to improve that very much, what is more important is that the pre-modern world was *not* equally bad in all places. The American South was also pretty poor, but richer than China in the 19th century. And being a slave in the American South was WAY worse than being a peasant in China during times of peace - because Confederate society built systems to remove choice, to short-circuit the ebb and flow of the open system to enshrine their elite ‘permanently’ at the top. If you lived in feudal Russia it was a good deal worse, with huge amounts of your yearly labor compelled by the state onto estates held by those who owned them unimpeachably by virtue of their birthright (though you were a good deal richer just due to basic agriculture productivity & population density, bit of a tradeoff there).

If you simply throw around the word “slavery” to describe every pre-modern agricultural system because it was poor and shitty, that back-doors a massive amount of apologia for past social systems that were actively worse than the benchmarks of the time. Which is something the CCP did; their diagnosis of China’s problem for the rural poor of needing massive land redistribution was wrong! It was just wrong, it was not the issue they were having. It was not why rural China was often poor and miserable. It could help, sure, I myself would support some compensated land redistribution in the post-war era as a welfare idea for a fiscally-strapped state. But that was gonna do 1% of the heavy lifting here in making the rural poor's lives better. And I don’t think we should continue to the job of spreading the CCP's propaganda for them.

There ya go @chiefaccelerator, who alas I was not permitted to compel via state force into writing this for me, you Qing Dynasty lazy peasant.

[thelambliesdown1974]

Okay but like walking across 🚶‍♂️ the sitting room 🐒🪑 I turn the television 📺 on 🔛 sitting beside you I look into your eyes 👁️ as the sound 🎼 of motor cars 🚗 fade in the night time 🌝 I swear I saw your face change 😲 it didn’t seem quite right 🤔 and it’s hello babe! 👋 with your guardian eyes so blue 👀 hey my baby 👶🏼 dont you know our love ❤️ is true 🫂 coming closer 👬 with our eyes 👁️ a distance falls around our bodies ⬅️➡️ out in the garden 🪴 the moon 🌙 seems very bright 💡 six 6️⃣ saintly shrouded men ✝️ move across the lawn 🏡 slowly the seventh walks in front 🚶‍♂️🚶‍♂️🚶‍♂️ with a torch 🔦 held high in hand 🤚 and it’s hey babe! 👋👶🏼 your suppers waiting for you 🍝 hey my baby! 👋👶🏼 don’t you know our love ❤️ is true 🫂 I’ve been so far from here 🌄 far from your loving arms 😘 it’s good to feel you again 🥰 it’s been a long long time ⏳⌛️… hasn’t it🤔…………………… I know 🤓 a farmer 👨‍🌾 who looks after a farm 🌾 with water clear 💧 he cares for all his harvest 🥕 I know 🤓 a fireman 👨‍🚒 who looks after the fire 🔥… cant you see he’s fooled you all 😈 yes it’s him again 🤯 can you see he’s fooled you all 😢 share his peace ☮️ sign the lease 📑 he’s a super sonic scientist 👨🏻‍🔬 he’s the guaranteed eternal sanctuary man 🙏 look! 👀 look into my mouth 👄 he cries 🗣️ and all the children 👧🏼 passed down many paths 🛤️ I bet my life you’ll walk inside 🚶‍♂️ hand in hand 🧑‍🤝‍🧑 gland in gland 😵‍💫 with a spoonful 🥄 of miracle 🕊️ it’s the guaranteed eternal sanctuary 🙏 (we will rock you 🪨 rock you 🪨 little snake 🐍 we will keep you snug ☺️ and warm 😊…………………… wearing feelings 😁 on our faces 💁‍♂️ while our faces took a rest 😴🛌 we walked across the fields 🌾 to see the children 👦🏼 of the west 🧭 but there was a host of dark skinned warriors 🤺 standing still below the ground 👇🏻 🌎 waiting for battle! ⚔️ fights begun they’ve been released 😡 killing for for peace ☮️ bang bang bang! 💥 bang bang bang! 💥 and they’ve given me a wonderful potion 🧪 but I cannot contain my emotion 😭 and even though I’m feeling good 😌 👍 something tells me 🧐 I better activate my prayer 🙏 capsule 💊 todays the day 📆 to celebrate 🎉 the for have met their fate 🪦 the order for rejoicing 🥳 and dancing 🕺 has come from our warlord 🤴…………………… wandering through the chaos 🥾 the battle has left ⚔️ we climb up the mountain of human flesh 🗻 to a plateau of green grass 🏞️ and green trees 🌳 full of life 🕊️ a young figure 👦 sits still by a pool 🌊 he’s been stamped human bacon 🥓 by some butchery tool 🔪 he is you 🫵 social security 🧑‍⚖️ took care of this lad we watch 👀 in reverence as narcissus 😌 is turned to a flower 🌸 a flower? 🌸 …………………… if you go down ⬇️ to willow farm 🌳 to look for butterflies 🦋 flutterbyes gutter flies 🪰 open your eyes 👁️ it’s full of surprise 😲 eye one lies like a fox 🦊 on the rock 🪨 in the musical box 🎶📦 there’s mum and dad 👨‍👧👩‍👧 and good and bad 😇😈 and everyone happy to be here 😋 there’s Winston Churchill dressed in drag 👠 he used to be a British flag 🇬🇧 plastic bag 🛍️ what a drag 🙄 the frog was a prince 🫅 the prince was a brick 🧱 the brick was an egg 🍳 the egg was a bird 🦅 have you heard 👂 yes! We’re happy as fish 🐟 and gorgeous and geese 🦢 and wonderful clean in the morning 🧼 we’ve got everything 🤑 we’re growing everything 🌱 we’ve got some in ⬅️ we’ve got some out ➡️ we’ve got some wild things 👹 floating about 🕴️everyone 👦👩🧑 we’re changing everyone 😧 you name them all we’ve had them here 👈 and the real stars are still to appear! ⭐️🤩 feel your body melt 🫠 mum 👩 to mud 🪱 to mad 😡 to dad 👨🏻 dad diddly office ✏️ dad diddly office ✏️ you’re all full of ball 🏀 dad 👨🏻 to dam 🦫 to dumb 😛 to mum 👩 mom diddly washing 🧽 mom diddly washing 🧽 you’re all full of ball 🏀 let me hear you lies 👂 we’re living this up 🆙 to the eyes 👀 mama I want you now! 😩

[fatehbaz]

Most books on the Bengal delta begin by describing it as “riverine,” [...] the land is the product of fluvial action [...]. [I]n thinking about Bengal, one tends to imagine the ricepaddy fields [...]. It was not so all the time; Bengal was never really a land of farming [...]. Traveling through Bengal in the eighteenth century, the French traveler Orme saw a highly sophisticated water-based economy - the blessing of rivers - irrigated [...] by the monsoon rains and annual flooding. [...] The rivers were not just channels of water; they carried a thriving trade, transporting people and goods from one part of the delta to another. Today, Bengal is generally seen as comprising lush green rice paddies [...]. Rivers are often presented as causing immense grief [through seasonal flooding] [...]. Clearly, there is a mismatch here. [...] How (and when) did Bengal’s social milieu transform from water-based to land-based? [...] Bengal’s essential character as a fluid landscape was changed during the colonial times through legal interventions that were aimed at stabilizing lands and waters, at creating permanent boundaries between them, and at privileging land over water, in a land of shifting river courses, inundated irrigation, and river-based life.

Such a separation of land and water was made possible not just by physical constructions but first and foremost by engineering a legal framework that gradually entered the popular vocabulary. [...] BADA, which stands for the Bengal Alluvion and Diluvion Act, [was] a law passed by the colonial British rulers in 1825, following the Permanent Settlement of 1793. [...] The environment of Bengal can be described as hybrid, where the demarcation between land and water is neither well-defined nor permanent. Nature here represents a borderless world, or at best one in which borders are not fixed lines on the ground demarcating a territory, but are negotiated spaces or zones. Such “[...] spaces” comprise “not [only] lines of separation but zones of interaction…transformation, transgression, and possibility” (Howitt 2001, 240).

---

Current boundaries of land and water are as much products of history as nature and the colonial rule of Bengal played a key role in changing the ideas and valuations of both. [...] The debate on what constituted productive and unproductive uses of land preceded the application of English property law not only to establish permanent zamindari (a common term for the system of landlordism) settlement of land tenure in India, but also to valorize land in what had essentially been a land-water hybrid environment. The colonial land revenue system, by seeing land as more productive (being able to yield revenue) and useful, began the long historical process of branding the rivers of Bengal as uncivil and in need of control. [...] The problem with deltaic land is its non-permanent nature, as silt is stored by rivers: rivers do not always flow along a certain route [...] The laws that the colonial British brought to Bengal, however, were founded upon the thinking of land as being fixed in place. [...]

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Experiments to fine-tune the land-based economy began in 1760 when Bengal, and its ceded territories, came under the East India Company rule. [...] To entrench the system, the Permanent Settlement of 1793 created zamindars (or landlords) “in perpetuity” - meaning for good. The system was aimed at reducing the complexities of revenue collection due to erratically shifting lands and unpredictable harvests in a monsoon-dependent area [...]. Alarmed at the possibility of dismemberment of their estates, the zamindars decided to bind tenants to the same conditions to which they themselves were bound by the colonial government, and one of their actions was to create patni tenures or perpetual leases. [...]

It also meant that the right to collect rent from the tenants, often through the use of force, devolved to the lower layers, making the upper-layer zamindars more of a juridical rather than a real social entity in the eyes of the peasants. The patnidars, finding how much trouble this arrangement took off their own back, created dar-patnis or patnis of the second degree [...]. The dar-patnis created se-patnis or patnis of the third degree. The East India Company, therefore, had to legalize, through Regulation VIII of 1819, the creation of such formations, thus giving a de jure recognition post facto [...].

The regulation, although innocuous and simple, was of great historical potency: it became the key that unlocked the door to environmental and socio-economic changes of unparalleled magnitude. From a riverine community, within a hundred years, Bengal was transformed into a land-based community. [...]

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The meaning of property also changed as a result of this law: the cultivators began to lose the right to occupy the land that they had enjoyed since ancient times because the colonial British had enumerated the characteristics of the zamindari property as an absolute right of proprietorship in the soil [...].

[T]he Company then began to contemplate the problematic issue of legalizing the fictional entities of chars [...]. The law that was created for this purpose -- and still rules the rights of ownership of charlands -- is the Bengal Alluvion and Diluvion Regulation Act (BADA) of 1825. [...] BADA was meant to establish a set of rules to guide the courts to determine the claims to land “gained by alluvion” or accretion, and the resurfaced land previously lost by diluvion or erosion. Even if one takes it for granted that chars are technically non-land in the sense that they exist within river banks, the difficulty remains that when a piece of land is lost to bank erosion, it may not arise in exactly the same location or arise at all within the foreseeable future. This means the owner has no certainty that they will get it back when it resurfaces or when another char rises nearby. [...] Thus, the key to establishing land rights in the court of law remained the payment of rent, even on diluviated land. [...] Such a rule will, however, not be applicable if a river suddenly changes its course and separates a considerable piece of land from one to join it with another farm, but without destroying the identity of the land so removed -- thus preventing legal recognition. New accretions in large navigable rivers would be the property of the state [...].

---

All text above by: Kuntala Lahiri-Dutt. “Commodified Land, Dangerous Water: Colonial Perceptions of Riverine Bengal.” In: “Asian Environments: Connections across Borders, Landscapes, and Times.” Edited by Ursula Munster, Shiho Satsuka, and Gunnel Cederlof. RCC Perspectives, no. 3, 17-22. 2014. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]

[juniorfor2]

For some reason, even though it has been 2 years since S1 and Aemond claimed a dragon, I am still seeing people say that it is impossible to steal a dragon and he did nothing wrong. Which is baffling, because he clearly was - he did not have the King’s permission to claim such a dragon, and he specifically did it on the night of Laena’s funeral because he wanted to make sure no one could stop him or claim Vhagar before him.

I think part of this stems from a lack of theoretical understanding of how ownership works, as @rhaenin-time writes about here, but I also think it comes from a practical lack of understanding - it’s pretty clear that none of these people have ever worked with domestic animals, and therefore have never had to deal with the exact specifics of what ownership looks like in relation to each person involved with the animal.

However, I have worked with large domestic animals - and the moment that you start comparing the two, it becomes pretty obvious that Aemond was in the wrong.

The relationship that the riders, such as Laena, have with the dragons is most similar to a full lease on a horse. This means that by paying money to the owner, Laena can take Vhagar over to her place in Pentos and have essentially full responsibility over her. Laena can ride her, take care of her, allow her family to help with responsibilities, etc. She essentially acts as the owner of Vhagar. However, Laena is NOT the owner at the end of the day, she is leasing. That means that whenever Laena ends the lease (or in this case dies), Vhagar goes back to Viserys.

Vhagar belongs to no one except Viserys - not Laena’s family, not anyone related to Viserys, not even Alicent as his wife. The only one who could potentially do anything is Rhaenyra, who could be given the responsibility as heir, to manage things if Viserys cannot. No one else gets that responsibility, because their name is not on the label for ownership.

Therefore, neither Aemond nor Rhaena are allowed to just grab Vhagar and ride her. It is understandable that as a 6-7 year old, who has grown up with Vhagar her whole life and even ridden her with her mother, Rhaena might not fully understand this. However, there is no excuse with Aemond. He has never had responsibility over Vhagar, and he was not given permission to take on that responsibility and ride her. He knows this too, by sneaking out at night to do so, rather than asking at a more appropriate time.

That is stealing. By understanding that someone else owns the animal and deliberately not asking permission to take them, there is no other way to view it. It doesn’t matter if Aemond is Viserys’ son, if a kid took out their parent’s horse at night to go for a ride without telling anyone (especially never having ridden or seen the horse before), you can bet they’d be grounded for months and they would never ride them again.

It’s no different with dragons. People seem to think that by virtue of dragons possessing more intelligence than the average animal, that this somehow changes things. It really doesn’t. Sure, a dragon cannot be abused into submission, they have their own magical abilities and shouldn’t be constantly restrained, but what else is there? A farm animal could just as easily kick a person’s head in for abusing them or trying to force them into something. An animal can decide not to listen to anyone if they feel like it. They should be treated with respect as well - they are not dumb creatures that can’t understand a word a person says. People say you can’t force a bond with a dragon - do you really think it’s possible to do so with a horse?

Aemond’s actions are not better by virtue of the creature being a dragon. People trying to draw such a difference are those who have never had to understand a clear distinction in ownership before, and do not understand how domestic animals behave. If Aemond did not ask permission from the owner to ride Vhagar because he knew he wouldn’t get it, then he was stealing, plain and simple.

[love-bokumono-fics]

July 2024 Casual Prompt

This month we're putting away the cows and sickles and bringing out the dragons and swords because the winning casual prompt is...

🧚‍♀️🐲✨ Fairy Tale AU ✨🐲🧚‍♀️

It's time to step away from the farm (at lease the ones we're familiar with) and take a trip to a land of magic.

Maybe you'll stick to the familiar farm life, but with more mythical denizens around town. Maybe your favorite pairing will find themselves in a Brave Knight's tale, rescuing their trapped love from a vicious dragon or an evil witch. Maybe you'll tell the story of royalty longing for a different life. Maybe someone will take a fantastical trip into the world of the fey or they'll outsmart a big, bad wolf.

This is the perfect prompt to let your imagination run wild! Just remember, all fairy tales start out 'Once upon a time...'

This being a very casual event, you can create whatever you want based off the prompt. Write a long fic or a short fic. Draw a sketch, or a comic, or paint a whole canvas.

Whatever strikes your fancy!

Make something that you want to make, something you can have fun with! Flex your muscles, stretch your wings, try something new, experiment, go wild! Or use this as a soft landing ground, a place for you to come back and rest in your comfort zone while you work on other projects. Fill the prompt once, fill it twice, do it a dozen times if you’re feeling up to it! There are no rules, just have fun!

You don’t even have to put in in the Bokumono fandoms. If you’re inspired for something else then go for it!

And hey, if one of the other prompt choices for this month inspired you more, you can do that one instead! Write for the prompt that most inspired you.

Or for an additional challenge, try and combine multiple prompts!

And if you fill the prompt and want to share, tag the blog so I can reblog it, or drop a link to it in the submissions. I want to share and I can’t wait to see what you all come up with!

Final poll results under the cut

[yourhoeshorses]

A ref sheet for Joey and their soul horse Summerqueen

Self insert oc go brrr

Also I really cannot wait for the name change update. I don't mind their name being Joey, it just doesn't fit them imo, but it's the closest alternative I could think of from "Jennifer"

HURRAY!!! You pushed a button, here's Joey's backstory

Joey grew up in a small town north of Jorvik City. They often misbehaved or had outbursts at school due to them not being a particularly fast learner and having a hard time connecting with their peers - being bullied for their strange behaviors and odd obsessions with horses. Even as horses are far more common in Jorvik in other parts of the world, it was all Joey ever really cared to talk about.

Joey was never given much time or care by their parents. They never really helped them with their school work, or gave guidance for dealing with squabbles at school other than to "give it back to them" and to "toughen up." Eventually, Joey ended up being sent to visit the school counselor, or the principal, nearly every school day due to disruptions in class, failing grades, and aggressive behaviors towards other students.

This eventually led to a conference with Joey's parents to discuss their behavior, and after repeated meetings, the school counselor suggested therapy riding for over the summer break.

"It's very grounding for people who do therapy ridding," the school counselor would explain, "it may do Jennifer some good to spend time in an environment with people who will hopefully understand her, and Aideen knows horses are all she talks about."

Eventually, their parents agreed, as Joey's emotions were far too much for them to handle, and they were sent off to Moorland over the summer.

Summerqueen lived in a large weedy pasture on a run-down old farm with her herd. She was born, raised, and lived her whole life in this pasture - only ever leaving when the old farmers' grandkids came around to ride them up and down the road every once in a while.

Now that the farmer was too old to ride, and his grandchildren had moved on, Summerqueen and her herd were more or less abandoned in the field; save for when the farmer would roll out a bale of hay. Their manes and tails had become matted, and their coats were left dusted in dirt.

One day, a man and his young son came driving down the road to the farm. When they stepped out of their truck, the boy was shaking his father by the sleeve, practically jumping and pointing at a sheet of paper and then out to the mare, insisting his father needed to get this horse. They approached the old farmer, inquiring about the bay mare in his field and asking if he'd be willing to lease her out to them. The farmer, skeptical of their offer for a raggedy horse, eventually agreed after their insistence.

Joey had ridden horses before. When they were 8 years old, they attended a day camp where they had learned how to ride. They would go on trail rides a couple of times each summer since then. They were by no means a good at riding, but they knew enough to get by on a horse. Now, at the age of 12, they stood in an enclosed courtyard. The stable owner held a clip board, going over that they were here for therapy ridding to help with their unstable emotions and that they would be responsible for the care of the horse being lended to them.

As he finished going over their responsibilities and rules, his son led the bay mare into the courtyard. He seemed almost as excited and relieved as Joey did when fianlly introduced to Summerqueen. The mare was groomed over well enough to safely equip her with tack.

"Parting through and grooming out those matted locks will be a good bonding experience for the two of you," the stable owner explained. Joey wouldn't mind the work. All they cared about was that their world finally felt like it made sense.

All the interests they were told were annoying and obsessive, the constant daydreaming of being carried by a swift steed, the feeling of never truly belonging - it all washed away as they felt their horses muzzle breathe in the scent of her rider from their out reached hand and finally greeting eachother for the very first time.

After the first summer was over it felt like their heart was being torn out. They begged and pleaded to be allowed to return next summer, and only found the strength in themself to carry on through the winter when their parents agreed to send them back once the school year was finished. During their second summer there, they became friends with Alex Cloudmill. She didn't have a horse at the camp and didn't even live in the area as she only came down to visit every once in a while, but the two grew close over shared hardships.

By the time the third summer rolled around, Joey decided they were not going to return home. They couldn't bear it to be somewhere they didn't feel they belonged anymore. After arguing with their parents to remain in Moorland year round, they gave in and let them stay, telling them they were off on their own now and decided it was better to have almost no part in what Joey does after failing to rein them in.

Joey would stay in spare rooms at Moorland if they were available, otherwise staying in the hayloft of their barn. The Moorlands never left them uncared for and would remind them they were grateful for the extra help they gave during the winter. And yes, they did still attend school, and thankfully, with less head butting from other students.

As they entered high school, Alex would tell Joey about how she had discovered she was a soul rider, along with some other friends she had made. Alex would tell Joey about the dangerous adventures they had gone through together, the great evils they would defeat, and they magic they had discovered inside themselves. And not long after, the same magic Joey would find in themself too.

After revealing they were connected to all four circles, Elizabeth would take Joey under her wing to teach them more about this magic. While Joey began training and working more towards the goal of the soul riders and druids, they moved in with Elizabeth until they were old enough to go out on their own.

Joey now works as a camp counselor at Moorland during the summer and cares for trail horses as they take time off from their wilderness adventures during the winter. Alongside that, they also provide ridding lessons to new riders, training horses, and racing in championships when they have the time. They definitely have their hands full, but they wouldn't want it any other way.

While both Joey and Summerqueen are connected to all four circles, they do have their own preferences for what circles they work with the most. Joey is most connected to the lightning circle, and during the Catherine's Memories quest line became closer to the moon circle while practicing its magic with Linda. Summerqueen is most connected with the star circle as she helped Joey heal their emotions and build up their confidence when they first arrived at Moorland and later became closer connected to the sun circle.

Aaaaaaand END SCENE

[shivadh]

Geoduck Pirates

This is a story from a reader and friend, posted with permission and appropriately redacted as if it were a Regency novel.

My family has a cabin in P----, gorgeous place, been in my family for several generations. Among other things, the region is famous for geoducks; I don't particularly like them but I'm not a clam person. However, geoducks are a delicacy in Japan and can go for $125 a pound or more, so farming them is very lucrative.

At the cabin we have mad neighbor Mselle M------. Mselle has been annoying for many many years; ever since I can remember she's been engaging our family in property disputes, complaining about our cabin blocking her view, that kind of thing. Annoying but livable. However, some years ago she leased her tidefront, the legality of which is still unclear, to geoduck farmers. It's horrible; it looks like this:

Slap a PVC pipe in the ground with a baby geoduck, it can't escape, and gets to full growth there. They can get up to about 3-4 feet just for the siphon, and when they do they look like this.

The Unviersity of E-----'s college mascot is the Geoduck, did you know?

So, last summer, I saw some boats come up and harvest them, and I thought, Finally, maybe the fucking pipes will go away.

Except it turns out, Mselle didn't get any money because they were GEODUCK PIRATES. They were not the people she'd contracted with to harvest the fully grown geoducks!

Unfortunately her response was to lease out even more tidal land, but that gives my family more grist for the lecal mill that we're engaging in to get her stopped.

GEODUCK PIRATES!

[rjzimmerman]

Manyara Ranch: African Wildlife Foundation

Good story from the African Wildlife Federation. Tap/click on the caption to get to the PDF version of the report.

Excerpt:

A long time ago, the people of Tanzania and their livestock adopted to living alongside wildlife. For millennia, the Maasai have tracked the movements of wildebeests to identify good grazing; the favorite hideouts of lions to avoid attacks on cattle; and the presence of oxpeckers to know if dangerous buffalo are nearby.

In the past 60 years, however, drastic changes have come to the Maasai Steppe, a large semi-arid grassland ecosystem in north-central Tanzania. Large-scale farms, the expansion of safari tourism, the creation of national parks, and restricted access to once communally used land have squeezed the rangeland available to livestock. With more cattle on less land, grasslands are becoming overgrazed. The spread of human settlements and agriculture have blocked age-old wildlife migration routes, leading to more frequent—and sometimes deadly—confrontations between people and animals. And climate change, which has intensified droughts and upended rainfall patterns, is escalating competition for green grass and fresh water, pushing even more pastoralists to agriculture.

Anchoring the Maasai Steppe are Tarangire and Lake Manyara National Parks, where the shores of the eponymous river and lake abound with wildlife in the dry season. The steppe is home to some of the world’s most abundant and diverse wildlife, including one of the largest—and growing– populations of elephants in Africa (recovering from heavy poaching in the 1970s and 1980s) and the only stronghold of the eastern white-bearded wildebeests. The ability to move between the parks and beyond them into the plains is crucial for the survival of many of the ecosystem’s most iconic species, including elephants and wildebeests. But safe, unimpeded pathways are becoming scarce. In between the two parks, in the all-important Kwakuchinja wildlife corridor, sits a patchwork of villages, farms, large herds of livestock, grasslands—and Manyara Ranch.

Since 2001, the African Wildlife Foundation (AWF) has championed a unique conservation model for the ranch, starting with negotiations with the government to form a land conservation trust to make the ranch a conservation space. Beginning in 2013, we took over direct management of the ranch, balancing the working cattle ranch with habitat restoration and wildlife conservation—a new model for Tanzania.While Tanzania’s pastoralists generally are prohibited from bringing livestock into national parks, cattle are a nonnegotiable part of the region’s economy and culture. Therefore, successful conservation of land outside formal protected areas depends on the sustainable coexistence of livestock and wildlife, particularly along migration routes where wildlife move outside of the boundaries of the parks. Manyara Ranch is a vital link along one of those migration routes. It helps connect the national parks to each other and to the wet-season grazing grounds of the Northern Plains, described as the “last, best remaining breeding ground” for the ecosystem’s migrating wildebeest, zebras, gazelles, and others. In addition to the migrating animals that seasonally pass through, the ranch today is home to resident giraffes, lions, and many other iconic African species—as well as more than a thousand cattle.

The lease to the land is now held by the Monduli District Council, and the day-to-day running of the ranch is managed by the Manyara Ranch Management Trust, composed of representatives from the Monduli council, two local villages, the Tanzania Wildlife Management Authority, and AWF.

“The vision for a project like this is to bring management expertise to the local stakeholders. We want to think inclusively and really focus on creating local partnership in decision-making regarding operations,” said Pastor Magingi, AWF’s Tanzania Country Coordinator.

[sprnklersplashes]

whumptober, day 25: buried alive (ao3)

Taddmakker’s field is an expanse of rocky soil in the west of the city, with plots rented out by the poorer citizens of Ketterdam trying to make some extra coin, or by merchants leasing them out to those poor suckers. Calling it a field feels too generous, given the near-grey colour of the ground beneath them. Almost nothing grows here. 

Light is scarce in this part of Ketterdam, away from streetlights and the stars choked by the thick fog, and so the field is lit by the weak glow of their bonelights. The place spreads out around them, the soil its rocky fingers to the farthest corners of Jesper’s vision. When he shines his light in front of him, all he’s met with is endless grey, the yawning mouth of the creatures from his childhood nightmares. And Wylan is here somewhere, trapped beneath the dead ground.

“Kaz?”

“Zenik?” he says in response, turning to Nina. The girl nods, a spark in her green eyes, and then, hands spread, she takes a long, slow breath. Her eyes close, her lips twitch as if she was about to say something but retreated. She breathes slowly, again, and again. Behind her, Matthias stands ready, his features masked by the darkness. She spreads her hands further, wider, reaching out to some unknown force. Perhaps its his imagination, but Jesper swears the air turns colder.

“Where is he?” she whispers. Her face screws up. “Where is he?”

Jesper turns in a circle again, his bonelight casting shadows around them. He sends out a message of his own, where are you Wylan as a stone-like weight sinks in his gut. He’s not like Nina, can’t reach through the ground to the bodies below, but he sends it anyway.

Wylan where are you.

Behind him, Nina gasps, her green eyes snapping open and shining like emeralds. Matthias’ hand comes around her shoulders, steadying her, but he’s barely touched her before she declares,

“I know where he is.” Then, she looks around them with frantic eyes, distracted by a sound they can’t hear, and says, “They know where he is.”

“Then let’s go.” 

Five shadows race across the rocky field, five hearts pound in a horrified, delirious rhythm. Nina leads them, still muttering under her breath as they follow her through plots and empty land, jumping over tree roots and smashing through fences. Jesper can’t tell how long they’ve been running for, only that when they stop, his side is burning and the taste of iron burns on his tongue. But they’ve stopped, all panting, and all looking at the same plot before them.

The soil is fresh, he realises. Anyone from a farm could tell that. 

“He’s… he’s here,” Nina says. Without a word, Jespe and Matthias step in front of her and pull the shovels from their back. Jesper tries not to think about it, to pretend like he’s back on the farm and digging up a plot of land. But with each heap of dirt he shovels out of the way, all he can think is Wylan, Wylan, Wylan, and that he could be buried beneath the earth. Or that he might not be, and they could run in circles all night with him waiting below; trapped, suffocating and slowly slipping away from them.

He gasps and tosses another heap of dirt over his shoulder, sweat running into his collar.

Kaz, Nina and Inej take the bottom part of the plot, and their five heavy breaths mix into one. Five people, one crew, falling further and further into the earth.

“I hit something!” Inej cries out. Jesper doesn’t stop, he won’t until Wylan is in his arms, but when he dares glance up he sees Inej diving down, clawing away at the soil. When she shines her bonelight on it, what she finds it the stained wood of a crate. Based on the colour, it can’t have been down here long.

His heart skips a beat.

“Keep going,” Kaz orders, though none of them have stopped. Their bodies sink lower the more they dig, their clothes caked with soil and chips of wood, stones wriggling beneath their cuffs and collars. Pain flashes through their arms, their lungs burn from the long run. Each one of them feels their bodies begging no more, each one in danger of hitting the ground, but something else pushes them all to keep going, that they don’t stop until-

“We’re hit it!” Matthias declares. Most of the soil clear away, they see the wood in front of them, and as Kaz and Inej clear the last of it, they find that they’re standing atop a long wooden crate. In the Barrel, they’re normally used to transport weapons. But clear everything out… you could fit a body in here.

“Get out of the way,” Kaz orders. “Jesper!” He looks up, and a coil of rope lands in his arms. He ducks down and feels in the dark until his hand closes around the metal loop on the side of the box. After a sharp tug to make sure, he jumps upon the side, grabs ahold, and pulls it. The silence roars in his ears, the utter lack of a movement from inside the box.

Perhaps he’s bound he thinks desperately. Perhaps they drugged him. 

Perhaps they’re too late. 

The box lands on the ground with a callous thud. As the others rush around the plot to their side, Kaz finds a heavy iron padlock and immediately curses, lockpicks flashing silver against his gloved palm.

“No need,” Jesper says. His voice burns, and when he grabs the lock, an amber linesnakes across it. A low hiss rises and then dies, and then the lock is falling apart in his palm, and he’s pulling the latch and wrenching the lid open and then-

Then he can’t breathe.

Wylan is there. Sickly-yellow bruises mark his skin, one on his cheekbone already turning violet. Someone shoved a rag into his mouth. In the bonelight, he sees Wylan’s teeth resting above it. And he’s so still, he’s so still. He doesn’t even flinch, not even when raindrops splatter against his cheeks.

Jesper slings his arm around his shoulders and drags him out onto the soil, bracing his head with his palm. When he pulls the gag out of his mouth, he finds it soaked, and when he shines the light on it he finds what look like teeth marks against the crimson fabric.

Jesper tosses the thing behind him and turns to Wylan. Inej lets out a soft gasp, her eyes wide. Jesper freezes for a moment, unwilling to look as it won’t be real if he doesn’t. When he does look though, he wants to shoot something. Possibly himself.

Wylan’s nails are caked in scarlet and brown. Small flakes fall from his fingers. The nails on his right hand are almost torn completely off. Around is wrists is the remnants of a rope, the skin marred by angry reds and purples. His shirt is littered with woodchips 

Slowly, Jesper looks to the box again. On the inside of the lid are vertical flashes, paler in colour than the rest of them. His heart stops.

He tried to claw his way out. The light flickers, and Jesper realises that it’s actually just him, trembling. Wylan’s fingers are bleeding. Because he tried to claw his way out of that box. 

Slowly, he slides his hand into Wylan’s. He squeezes it, trying to force some warmth onto his icy skin. He doesn’t squeeze back.

Beside him, Nina gasps, her face set in pure horror.

“He’s not breathing.”

Jesper barely has time to process it before Matthias is pulling Wylan away from him and laying him on the ground. He jerks towards him, not thinking, but Inej’s hands are on his shoulders before he can do something stupid. She pulls him against her chest, her hand running through his curls. Whispers of “it’s all right, it’s okay” creep across his cheek. He hears, he understands, but he can’t hold onto them. Not with the scene unfolding before him.

Matthias presses his hands down on Wylan’s chest in hard, steady pulses, his voice gruff as he counts. He pulls Wylan’s mouth open and presses his mouth to his, forcing air into his lungs. He returns to his chest, the compressions still steady but coming down harder, as if Matthias can shove life back into him with sheer will. He mutters too, between each push. Prayers in Fjerdan, asking his god to give Wylan strength. Pleas to Wylan, begging him to come back.

“Come on, kid,” they hear him mutter. His breath forms in white smoke and he pushes down on Wylan’s chest. “Come on kid. Don’t leave us now.”

The droplets on Wylan’s face aren’t just rain now.

Beside Matthias, Nina twists her hands and strikes them forwards, searching for her lost power to restart Wylan’s heart. Saints knows if she can now that parem has twisted her power to the dead rather than the living, but she’s trying. She won’t let Wylan become one of the bodies she animates.

Inej presses her face into Jesper’s shoulder, her tiny frame shaking against his. In one motion, Jesper wraps their arm around her and presses her into his shoulder. He won’t take his eyes off Wylan, but he leans his head into Inej. Saints knows she needs it as well. 

Matthias pumps again, so much force that Wylan’s head jerks against the ground. Hope sparks before Jesper can stop it, leaping like a match from a flame. But it’s nothing, just a result of Matthias’ strength against his body. His body flops lifelessly with each push, the only reaction he gives.

Minutes keep passing and passing, and all Jesper can do is watch with his heart in his throat. Inej presses into his side, one hand pressed to her mouth. Jesper isn't sure whether it's to comfort herself or him, but he presses his hand against her shoulder. She's trembling beneath his touch.

Kaz is beside them, his expression barely visible in the low light. But when Jesper dares to look away from Wylan, he finds rage building like a thunderstorm behind Kaz's eyes. Should it be comforting to know that Wylan will be avenged?

Maybe. But he doesn't want to even entertain it.

The rain falls harder as they watch, lashing mercilessly upon the ground. Eventually, Matthias leans back, face red and chest heaving. Nina wobbles and falls into his chest, muttering words they can’t hear and Jesper realises; they can’t give any more. It’s done. They did everything and it… it wasn’t enough was it?

For a moment, absolutely nothing happens. Time doesn’t pass. No-one even breathes. 

Then, Wylan gasps.

It’s a soft, tiny thing, a dandelion in the wind, but it’s there. Jesper dives to his side and wraps his hands around his shoulders, feeling that wonderful sensation of Wylan’s figners grazing his leg. His breathing gets quicker and quicker; he coughs and coughs and shudders against Jesper’s chest and when he gasps and his eyes fly open, Jesper weeps. Openly, proudly, with his full chest. Because he’s back.

His scream pierces the air, desperate and heavy, and he gasps again, filling his lungs with the cold night air. Blindly, his reaches through the dark and Jesper takes it, the cold from his palm biting his skin. Jesper kisses it, rubs to warm him up.

“Jes,” he whispers. His voice is hoarse from disuse and Jesper doesn’t want to think what else, not now. Everyone who did this to him will pay in due time. But now, Jesper is holding him against his chest and kissing his hair and whispering, “I’m here, it’s okay, I’ve got you, It’s okay.” Wylan is shaking and then he’s sobbing and Jesper holds him and rocks him, combatting the stream of apologies tumbling out of Wylan’s mouth with sweet nothings and promises of protection.

No-one can say anything then; no-one can. They sit in the messy aftermath of their terrible close call, each one expecting the other shoe to drop, for Wylan to slump and the little heat in his body to fade. But he doesn’t. He just keeps gasping and coughing and clinging to Jesper, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He rucks his head in the space beneath his chin and its only then that hot tears get Jesper’s collarbone.

“It’s okay. I'm here.” He pushes down all the thoughts of vengeance and just holds him, reveling in the way he shakes against his chest. Whoever did this will get what’s coming to them, amplified sixfold, but he refuses to think about revenge now. Instead, he strokes Wylan’s hair and says again, because it’s the only thing that matters now; “You’re okay."

[labuenosairesfrancaise]

OTTERSHAW PARK

The mansion

Hi guys!!

I'm sharing Ottershaw Park. This is the 18th building for my English Collection.

I decorated most of the house ground floor, for reference.

The interiors:

History of the house: In 1784 Thomas Sewell died and ownership of Ottershaw Park passed to his son, Thomas Bailey Heath Sewell, Lieutenant Colonel in the Surrey Fencible Cavalry. He sold it in 1796 to Edmund Boehm who improved the interior of the house and enlarged the estate by buying tracts of wasteland and allotments.

In about 1805 Boehm built, to the design of the eminent architect James Wyatt, two Grecian-style lodges at the new entrance to the estate from where a coach road ran to the mansion. The same architect may also have designed for Boehm the Gothic Chapel which originally served as a kitchen, bake house, dairy and pantry but was demolished in 1962.

Ottershaw Park was bought in 1819 by Major General Sir George Wood, a Lieutenant General in the Bengal Army. At this time the estate was largely self-supporting with stables, smithy, brew house, bake house, laundry, dairy, slaughter houses, ice house and two farms.

Sir George died in 1824 and the estate passed to his son, also named George, who in 1841 sold the property to Richard Crawshay who built a new bailiff’s house, farm buildings and brew house.

On Crawshay’s death in 1859 the estate was bought by Sir Thomas Edward Colebrooke MP, who made a number of alterations to the mansion. He also gave the money and land for the building of Christchurch and the first village school.

The estate was later sold to Lawrence James Baker, a stockbroker and MP who sold it in 1910 to the millionaire, Friedrich Gustav Jonathan Eckstein. Eckstein demolished the old mansion and replaced it with the present building designed by Niven & Wigglesworth which is more magnificent and much larger.

During World War I Eckstein made the building available to the British Red Cross as an Auxiliary Home Hospital but soon after the war sold it to Miss Susan Dora Cecilia Schintz, the daughter of a Swiss nitrates millionaire. Miss Schintz lost most of her sizeable inheritance through gifts to charity and bad investments and finally had to sell the estate. Much of it was acquired by the Ottershaw Park Investment Company (OPIC) which planned to develop the rim of the estate for housing. In 1932 the mansion and central part of the park became Ottershaw College, a boarding school for boys which for a short time was very successful, but eventually became insolvent and finally closed at the outbreak of World War II.

During the war The Vacuum Oil Company leased the mansion as offices and laboratories. From 1940 much of the surrounding land was either ploughed for crops or grazed as part of the war effort and the woodland areas were used by the 19 Vehicle Reserve Depot (VRD) for storing vehicles.

The Vacuum Oil Company moved back to London at the end of 1947 and Surrey County Council established Ottershaw School which was opened in 1948. The school prospered until 1980 when it closed due to financial constraints.

In 1982 the developers DeltaHome converted the mansion and other buildings into the present residential estate.

Link: https://www.exploringsurreyspast.org.uk/themes/places/surrey/runnymede/ottershaw/ottershaw_park_estate/

The garden:

More info: https://www.exploringsurreyspast.org.uk/themes/places/surrey/runnymede/ottershaw/ottershaw_park_estate/

The floorplan:

This house fits a 64x64  lot, but I think you can make it a 50x40 if you lose part of the garden and the conservatories on each side.

Piano nobile furnished, the rest is up to your liking.

Hope you like it.

You will need the usual CC I use:

all Felixandre cc

all The Jim

SYB

Anachrosims

Regal Sims

King Falcon railing

The Golden Sanctuary

Cliffou

Dndr recolors

Harrie cc

Tuds

Lili's palace cc

Please enjoy, comment if you like the house and share pictures of your game!

Follow me on IG: https://www.instagram.com/sims4palaces/

@sims4palaces

DOWNLOAD (only members-free to download)

[beardedmrbean]

For years, a Saudi Arabia-owned farm based in the U.S. has been using water for free in the drought-stricken state of Arizona.

The water has been used to grow alfalfa for livestock in the Gulf kingdom.

Arizona has decided to not renew the company’s leases following an investigation that found Fondomonte Arizona in violation of some of its lease terms.

Arizona governor Katie Hobbs said this week her administration is terminating state land leases that for years have given a Saudi-owned farm nearly unfettered access to pump groundwater in the dry southwestern state.

On Monday, Hobbs, a Democrat, said the state had canceled Fondomonte Arizona's lease in western Arizona's Butler Valley and would not renew three other leases up for renewal there next year.

An investigation by the governor's office found that the foreign-owned farm had violated some of its lease terms. Hobbs called it unacceptable that the farm "continued to pump unchecked amounts of groundwater out of our state while in clear default on their lease."

IN ARIZONA, FRESH SCRUTINY OF SAUDI-OWNED FARM'S WATER USE

Fondomonte Arizona, a subsidiary of Saudi dairy giant Almarai Co., grows alfalfa in Arizona that feeds livestock in the water-stressed Gulf kingdom.

Through a spokesperson, Fondomonte said it would appeal the governor's decision to terminate its 640-acre lease in Butler Valley. Altogether, Fondomonte farmed about 3,500 acres in the rugged desert area west of Phoenix.

Fondomonte raised eyebrows when in 2014 it purchased nearly 10,000 acres of land for $47.5 million about 20 miles away from Butler Valley in Vicksburg, Arizona. Since then, worsening drought in Arizona has brought renewed attention to the company's water use and the broader issues of foreign-owned farms and groundwater pumping.

The violations the governor's office detailed relate to the company's storage of hazardous materials, among other issues. On Monday, Hobbs' office said that Fondomonte was notified of the violations in 2016, but an investigation in August found the company had not fixed the problem seven years later. That gave Arizona's State Land Department grounds to terminate the lease.

The Arizona governor's office said the State Land Department decided not to renew three other leases the company had in Butler Valley due to the "excessive amounts of water being pumped from the land — free of charge."

The department manages land owned by Arizona, which in Fondomonte's case, had been leased to the company. Butler Valley's groundwater is especially important because of state law that in theory allows for it to be pumped elsewhere. That makes its water of interest to cities like Phoenix, also dealing with water supply-related stress and a fast-growing population.

FRESH SCRUTINY ARISES AS ARIZONA ALLOWS SAUDI-OWNED FARM TO USE FREE WATER FOR FOREIGN PURPOSES

In Arizona, cities such as Phoenix and Tucson have restrictions on how much groundwater they can pump under a 1980 state law aimed at protecting the state’s aquifers. But in rural areas, little is required of water users to pump from underground aquifers besides registering wells with the state and using the water for activities, including farming, that are deemed a "beneficial use."

Fondomonte also farms in Southern California’s Palo Verde Valley, an area that gets its water from the shrinking Colorado River. Those operations have attracted less scrutiny. Not all of Fondomonte's farms in Arizona are affected by the governor's decision. And it’s not the only foreign company farming in the Southwest. The United Arab Emirates-owned Al Dahra ACX Global Inc. grows forage crops in Arizona and California, and is a major North American exporter of hay.

Almarai’s holdings in the Southwest are just one example of the farmland the company and its subsidiaries operate outside Saudi Arabia. It farms tens of thousands of acres in Argentina, which has also faced severe drought conditions in recent years.

Foreign entities and individuals control roughly 3% of U.S. farmland, according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture. Canada is the largest holder — mainly of forestland.

Kris Mayes, Arizona’s Democratic attorney general, praised the governor for cracking down on the foreign-owned farm.

In April, Mayes announced that the state had rescinded permits that would've allowed Fondomonte to drill new water wells after inconsistencies were found in its applications. On Monday, Mayes called the governor's actions a "step in the right direction," adding that the state should have acted sooner.

"The decision by the prior administration to allow foreign corporations to stick straws in the ground and pump unlimited amounts of groundwater to export alfalfa is scandalous," Mayes said.

[dontmeantobepoliticalbut]

In rural Arizona’s La Paz County, on the state’s rugged border with California, the decision by a Saudi-owned dairy company to grow alfalfa in the American Southwest for livestock in the Gulf kingdom first raised eyebrows nearly a decade ago. Now, worsening drought has focused new attention on the company and whether Arizona should be doing more to protect its groundwater resources.

Amid a broader investigation by the state attorney general, Arizona last week rescinded a pair of permits that would have allowed Fondomonte Arizona, a subsidiary of Almarai Co., to drill more than 1,000 feet (305 meters) into the water table to pump up to 3,000 gallons (11 kiloliters) of water per minute to irrigate its forage crops.

In an interview with The Associated Press, Attorney General Kris Mayes said she thought most Arizonans see it as “outrageous” that the state is allowing foreign-owned companies “to stick a straw in our ground and use our water for free to grow alfalfa and send it home to Saudi Arabia. We just can’t — in the midst of an epic drought — afford to do dumb things with water in the state of Arizona anymore.”

Mayes, a Democrat, sought the revocations after she said her office had found inconsistencies in the permit applications. Mayes vowed to look into Fondomonte’s operations and water use last year after the Arizona Republic reported that the Arizona State Land Department leased the company thousands of acres of farmland for below market value.

Fondomonte did not respond to multiple requests for comment from the AP. Its lawyers have said previously that the company legally leased and purchased land in the U.S. and spent millions on infrastructure improvements.

Years of drought have ratcheted up pressure on water users across the West, particularly in states like Arizona, which relies heavily on the dwindling Colorado River. The drought has also made groundwater — long used by farmers and rural residents with little restriction — even more important for users across the state.

Saudi Arabia, struggling with its own water shortages in the past decade, restricted the growth of some forage crops in the country. That Fondomonte chose Arizona as a place to grow such crops has angered some in the state, which has faced two consecutive years of federal water cuts from the Colorado River, a primary water source for the state.

Officials from both parties have criticized the use of state water by foreign-owned entities, with Gov. Katie Hobbs, also a Democrat, saying in her January state of the state address that she, too, would look into the practice. The state’s groundwater, Hobbs said, “should be used to support Arizonans, not foreign business interests.”

That same month, Republican state legislators introduced a bill to prohibit sales of state lands to foreign governments, state enterprises and any company based in China, Russia or Saudi Arabia.

“There’s a perception that water goes to local uses,” said Andrew Curley, a professor of geography and the environment at the University of Arizona. “When you recognize it’s going far away, that the products and benefits of this water are exported overseas, that really provokes people’s attention.”

Foreign entities and individuals control roughly 3% of U.S. farmland, according to the U.S. Department of Agriculture. Canada is the largest holder — mainly of forestland. Fourteen U.S. states have restrictions on foreign individuals or entities owning farmland, but limitations vary widely and no state completely prohibits it.

Fondomonte also farms in California’s Palo Verde Valley, an area that gets its water from the Colorado River. Those operations have attracted less scrutiny. And it’s not the only foreign company that farms in the Southwest. The United Arab Emirates-owned Al Dahra ACX Global Inc. grows forage crops in Arizona and California, and is a major North American exporter of hay.

U.S. farmers themselves export hay and other forage crops to the Middle East — mainly to Saudi Arabia. China is the primary export market for U.S. hay.

In Arizona, renewed attention to Fondomonte’s water use is raising questions about the state’s lack of regulation around pumping groundwater in rural parts of the state.

Phoenix, Tucson and other Arizona cities have restrictions on how much groundwater they can pump under a 1980 state law aimed at protecting the state’s aquifers. But in rural areas, little is required of water users besides registering wells with the state and using the water for activities, including farming that are deemed a “beneficial use.”

“Frankly, I believe they are not doing their jobs,” Mayes said about Arizona’s Department of Water Resources’ oversight of rural areas. The Department declined to comment on the revoked drilling permits or the need for more groundwater regulation.

Mayes, along with hydrologists and environmental advocates, says more studies are needed of groundwater basins in rural areas — such as La Paz County, an agricultural county of about 16,000 people. Currently, Arizona doesn’t measure how much groundwater users pump in such areas, which means there is little understanding of how much water an operation like Fondomonte — or other farms — uses.

Almarai’s holdings in the Southwest are just one example of the farmland the company and its subsidiaries operate outside Saudi Arabia. It farms tens of thousands of acres in Argentina, which has also faced severe drought conditions in recent years.

Holly Irwin, a member of the La Paz County Board of Supervisors, has long opposed Fondomonte using water in the county. She said she’s fielded complaints from residents for years that it’s getting harder to pump water in nearby wells and has repeatedly asked the state to do something about it.

“We need to have some sort of regulation so it’s not all just being pumped out of the ground,” Irwin said.

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

“But if the architects of the Prison Labor Authority (PLA) expected huzzahs, they were quickly and bitterly disappointed. From the beginning, it was clear that the ultimate success of the code hinged on its ability to separate the free economy from the prison economy and to prevent prison-made goods from undercutting free-market goods. Prevailing thinking held that this would best be accomplished in a state-use system. But, as with Hawes-Cooper, the code had no power to actively promote a state-use system. Nor did it have the authority to ban convict leasing. In fact, by allowing states that continued to rely on contracting to participate in the compact, the code effectively shielded those states and, arguably, perpetuated a despised system that had little momentum outside the world of the code. Moreover, the code allowed signatories to continue the practice of interstate trade in prison-made goods. To critics, the code was effectively an end-run around Hawes-Cooper.

Given these two serious flaws, charges of the code’s failure were certain and emerged almost immediately. In Louisiana, tomato canners complained that the Angola prison farm artificially depressed the market; where free-market canned tomatoes sold at $0.60 per pound, prison tomatoes sold at only $0.40. Worse, the quality of prison-made cans was so “sorry” that the state Charity Hospital would not even buy the prison-packed tomatoes; the produce was dumped on the open market, where it undercut the fruits of free labor. In Virginia, the operator of a rock company that ground gravel for state roads saw his orders drop by almost 80 percent after the state required that all contracts go to the lowest bidder; his company was undercut by the state penitentiary. “We do not believe you fully understand the situation,” the president of the Belmont Trap Rock Company wrote to the PLA: competing with prison labor meant the end of his business and unemployment for his twenty-two workers. Likewise, in Illinois, strong evidence suggested that the state prison had put the Columbia Quarry Company out of business by selling lime dust at $0.60 per pound, when the minimum cost to even produce that amount was $0.80. Throughout the state, a local field agent found, small quarries “complained to me bitterly” about competition from prison labor.

Problems emerged not only within states, but between them, as well. A Chicago saddle maker realized that sales of his whips were being undercut by the Bardall Company from West Virginia, which utilized convict labor. When the Chicagoan (named Schmidt) traveled to West Virginia to induce his competitor to raise prices to reasonable levels, Bardall did not repent his strategy but instead suggested collusion in producing illegal convict-produced goods — a prospect that would mean the end of Schmidt’s shop and unemployment for his workers. In this case, the PLA was able to sanction the Bardall Company, but it also discovered frustrating loopholes that surely struck some businesses as Kafkaesque. The Trojan Wire Specialty Company, for instance, had operated for years in Troy, New York, but suddenly discovered that it could not match the prices of the Gatch Brush and Wire Goods Company, which operated out of the Baltimore city jail. This seemed to be a clear violation of the terms of the PLC, to which both New York and Maryland were signatories. But, as Linton Collins of the PLA responded, the code only policed labor at state institutions. The seventeen workers at the Trojan Wire Company who faced unemployment apparently had no recourse when confronted by convict labor at a municipal house of correction.

More was at stake than just individual businesses, important though they might have been to the individuals involved. The efforts of reformers to develop a more nationalized approach to prison labor also touched on fundamental philosophical approaches to political economy. And, if the NRA seemed hopeful to progressives and liberals, it struck others as a dangerous, even tyrannical, example of the centralization of power and enlargement of the executive branch. Henry Hanson, a representative of the marking devices industry, acidly made this point to PLA officials. His industry, Hanson observed, had pioneered the production of license plates, “only to see the sentimentalities of pseudo-criminologists combine with the distorted economics of self-serving individuals” who shifted license-plate production to prisons, thus forcing states to duplicate an industry that already existed. This inefficiency hurt both industry and taxpayers, Hanson claimed, and also led to substandard quality. Over 200,000 Illinois motorists were forced to return their prison-produced 1935 license plates after the plates rusted out in a matter of months. The disaster of Illinois’s license plate production was more than an isolated instance of prematurely rusty metal. To Hanson, it also portrayed “one more example of the inevitable economic waste inherent in the attempt of government to exercise the proper function of private industry.” The struggle over the fate of the PLA was therefore also a conflict over the proper function of government and the relationship between the state and the economy.

No dispute illustrated this political conict in starker terms than the virulent opposition the PLA attracted from the cotton garment industry. Federal officials responsible for the PLA felt that the hostility of garment makers to prison labor was vastly overblown and hypocritical; in 1931, only 604 prisoners were counted at work on 15,000 spindles, as compared to the nearly 29 million spindles employing about 330,000 free workers. Still, the textile industry had a potent political voice, and it carried deep historical reverberations. The emergence of the textile industry in the 1810s marked the dawn of America’s industrial age; for nearly one hundred years, the spread of mills from bucolic New England to the resplendent New South propelled the nation’s economic growth and spurred a wave of factory building that quickly outstripped most of Europe. Textile factories had served as the cradle of the American working class, revolutionizing both the experience of labor and the social identity of laborers.

But by the early 1930s, America’s textile industry faced a pivotal moment. The cotton garment trade had been mired in its own depression for nearly a decade before the stock market crash of 1929. Tariffs prevented American manufacturers from selling surplus goods overseas. Shifts in fashion and taste increasingly favored newer products like rayon and nylon. Decentralization led to cutthroat competition and ruinous overproduction, which in turn forced wages ever downward. Technological and market changes were not the only challenges facing textile companies. In the spring of 1934, just as the PLA was being signed into law, over 300,000 textile workers across the country staged a massive general strike — the largest labor conflict ever to rock the industry.

Faced with these challenges, the garment industry responded furiously to the PLA. The opposition from the Cotton Garment Code Authority (or CGCA, the trade group organized under the NRA to regulate textile production) and private manufacturers flamed up just weeks after Roosevelt authorized the PLA. Ideological and material interests quickly coalesced on both sides of the matter. In May, the CGCA filed a formal complaint with Hugh Johnson, Roosevelt’s choice to head the NRA, protesting the fact that prison-made goods would be entitled to their own NRA “blue eagle” badge. The “blue eagle” logo signified compliance with the NRA and was meant to unify business, labor, and the public around the early New Deal; for many, it symbolized the entirety of the first New Deal program. The blue eagle’s “We Do Our Part” motto inspired a patriotic sense of togetherness and collective commitment in the face of the Depression, and signaled to the public that whatever item bore a blue eagle had pledged itself to the wage and price guarantees of the New Deal. 

Granting prison-made goods a blue eagle, in fact, represented a total reversal of nineteenth-century reformers’ efforts to have a “prison made” label stamped like a scarlet letter on all prison-made products. The opposition of the CGCA, then, was both practical and ideological: practical because, without the badge, prison-made goods would be effectively barred from a code-governed marketplace; and ideological because removing the blue eagle would symbolically strip prison labor from the sociopolitical legitimacy that a code would otherwise confer.

....

Assessing this situation, Sanford Bates noted, “We have infinitely more opposition from the manufacturers, who are interested in profits, than from the unions, who are interested in humanity.” But the controversy over the blue eagle threatened a revolt from labor, too. When the PLA met in April of 1934, both Thomas Rickerts of the United Garment Workers and Sidney Hillman of the Amalgamated Clothing Workers agreed that prisons could not possibly meet the standards of the cotton garment code, and therefore prison products could never be given a blue eagle that reflected this code. When the PLA started affixing blue eagles under the Prison Labor Compact code in 1935, the United Garment Workers local in St. Louis erupted in protest. Petitions to remove the blue eagle from prison-made goods flooded in, accompanied by cartoons featuring unemployed workers staring wistfully into a prison; the caption read, “They Have Our Jobs!” Seeking organized labor’s help in resolving this controversy, Linton Collins reached out to Joseph Briegel of the Chicago Federation of Labor. Briegel responded that, in learning of the conflict, he was more committed than ever to end prison competition with free labor. However, recognizing that taxpayers seem to want something for supporting the prisons, he puckishly suggested a solution: “That every article manufactured in prison that would in any manner compete with Free Labor . . . be piled up in a safe spot in the prison yards and burned as a funeral pyre. (The date set for these fires to be on Labor Day, as a reminder to the world that Prison Competition with Free Labor is a sacrilege to humanity).”  

- Matthew Pehl, “Between the Market and the State: The Problem of Prison Labor in the New Deal.” Labor: Studies in Working-Class History, Volume 16, Issue 2 (2019): p. 86-89, 90.