#i have never seen a ball of yarn so full of knots in my life

[punemy-spotted]

To the person who wound this ball of yarn: what the actual FUCK.

[belethlegwen]

A Tale of Hobbies and Hammocks

Hello Today, I made a hammock. It's been a project of the last couple of days. I bought the materials on Sunday afternoon, and have been pouring over Nate Large's YouTube videos for how to make and rig an American Navy-style Hammock for quite some time. I initially found them through significant research I was doing for The Rescue and The Stranding and I learned a ton from Nate's videos. You may remember some time ago, I got myself a reference-Henry:

This guy is the full 8 inches Henry claims to be (Henry is only 7.2") but he's handy to have around. Since I got him he's been milling around on my desk for the most part, has come on a few purse adventures and so on, but I kept feeling bad that I didn't have a designated place for him to sleep. Well, a bed wasn't going to cut it. So, I reference again: Mr. Nate Large.

It started simply enough: I bought some fabric samples that resembled canvas enough, bought some D-rings because I figured they'd be easier to work with, needles, fancy thick thread, and came back to get to work. The first thing I did was start on the clews, and that required building a clew jig, as seen in this video. I am not a handiman by nature nor a particularly skilled or crafty creature in general, so I jimmy rigged something with a chunk of furniture board I had lying around from something:

On the first one the D-ring was too close the comb I was using as pegs, so it's adjusted in the second picture. Honestly I'm pretty proud of this McGuyver-level setup.

I didn't know how many loops I was going to be able to make for the clew with the measurements I had (again, nothing is completely precise just because I was going by rough estimates, eye-balling, and a general hit of a 10.4% scale of everything) so I kept this one pretty tight, which was difficult BUT it got the job done. Toothpicks for runners and thumbtacks as far as the eye can see.

The first completed clew, I had somehow missed literally the first loop but being as it was still functional, I kept it. If I had to scrap and start over at this point, I'd put the damn thing down and never pick it up again.

Second clew I went ahead and spread the loops out (there's 10 instead of 12 by the way, which I forgot to mention above). I hit all the loops this time on the finished product and am very very proud of having done both tiny weaves. Next step was the hammock. I took the white fabric I had, cut it twice as wide as I needed it because I wanted to try and replicate the thickness of the canvas I assumed would be used, and did the only stitch I know (needle go in, needle come out, needle go in again) to close up the open side and turn it inside out. I'm actually pretty proud of this especially because I only stabbed myself once! In the thigh, so it barely even counts.

I used a little hair flat-iron I never use to iron the fabric between stages. One thing I did NOT do was fold and sew the seams at the end, and that was literally because I realized that the measurements I had been using were for Canon-Henry, not Reference Henry. Canon-Henry is 10.4% scale, Reference-Henry is 11.6%, which is a pretty big difference when you're measuring the lengths of hammocks.

No I did not do grommets

I've never done grommets in my life and wasn't about to try and learn at nearly a 1/10th scale. I was crazy enough for doing THIS in the first place, I can ignore the need for awling and grommets and whatever else would've needed to happen for COMPLETE ACCURACY. Theater of the mind, friends. Anyway, I used the largest yarn darner that came in the pack I bought to poke 10 holes at equal intervals (1.4cm apart) along the sides, and then used the need to string the loops through the holes, and using a girth-knot on the first loop over my itty bitty rope, I slipped the rope through the rest of the loops until girth-knotting the end, and then: VOILA

ONE FULLY RIGGED CLEW

This was the first clew, so you can see in the second picture that one of the loops a little janky, but again: that's aesthetic problems. It's still very functional.

Second verse, same as the first until we get us:

TWO FULLY RIGGED CLEWS

Our hammock was now ready for testing, but I was too lazy to go get my ring-light stand to take proper pictures with, so the first demos were done with the use of the clew rigging board:

Henry in the hammock while slack, Henry in the hammock while tight. Snug as a bug in a rug.

Then, obviously, had to find a place to actually hang it. So: Over the storage-cubby in my desk, which I desperately need to clean out.

So that's the story of how I spent an excessive amount of time learning a very cool, neat set of skills at a very small scale just so I could flex a little.

Thanks for coming along on this journey of learning, and thanks again to Nate Large, whose name he will never know is so god damn on-point right now.

[isolenmlyswear69]

Collide [Teaser] ~ a JJ Maybank x OC fanfic

Warning: cursing, bad grammar, not prof read

A/N: I left tumblr for a while to take a break from everything and decided to write in my free time and came up with this, dont worry I’ll get right to answering your guys ask just wanted to share this

Paring: JJ Maybanks x OC

Word count: 18.1K

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The sun peeked through the curtains of the chateau,making me squint before rolling over and tucking my head deeper into the pillow groaning deeply as i heard a a low chuckle and John b’s voice echoed through the house seemingly louder then it was,

“Morning Sunny,” he said laughing at how I rolled myself deeper into the makeshift bed as he headed outside, most likely to chill on the hammock. I grumbel to myself and sat up, rubbing my eyes before I leaned back, stitching my back, hearing a couple of pops before sitting up and cracking my eyes open. Swinging my legs over the side of the couch, setting my feet on the trash covered ground moving an empty beer can with my toe so i could set my foot down. Standing up, letting my shirt that i had wore yesterday fall back over my jean shorts as i stretch my arms up above my head letting a small tremor roll through my body while my muscles finally woke up, i let my arms drop back down letting a small sigh out before shuffling into the kitchen, around the bar counter heading straight towards the fridge, pulling the door open leaning down before reaching my hand in shuffling around past the cases of beer looking for something a less likely to edge on the headache was already starting to form in the front of her head. I set my sights on the orange juice that was near the back of the fridge, grabbing the neck of the bottle dragging it out of the fridge,praying it isn't out of date. Knowing the boys it most likely was but hey why not be an optimist right? I turned leaning my hips onto the counter unscrewing the cap and bringing it to my lips, before tipping it up taking a big swig. I can say that was the worst decision i made that day, i quickly leaned towards the sink spitting it out as fast as i could quickly turning on the sink, sticking my face under the faucet bringing the water into my mouth swishing it around before spitting that out leaning back up head still tilting down towards the sink. I reached up my arm and shut the sink off before grabbing the bottle of orange juice and emptying it out in the sink. All i can say is fuck optomistic people they are crazy and dont know the fine line betwen optimisum and insanity. I let out a grumble as I worked my way around the chateau, thinking I could just take a walk to the store and grab a tea or something that was actually digestible. I grumbled to myself as i suffered to the guest bedroom in the chateau, before slamming my fist against the door a couple time,

“ i left my wallet in there so i'm giving you 3 seconds to get decent then i'm coming in for it “ i say loudly, my voice still scratchy from the lack of sleep i had gotten last night. thanks to the pogues party habits it was hard to get sleep during summer, not that i minded i'm always down for a party, the aftermath still sucks major ass let's be honest. I grab the handle turning it quickly pushing in the door and walking in the room quick heading straight for the dresser near the window spotting my wallet easily i swiped it off the dresser turning on my heels, my eyes were meet with the blue ones of jj, him and another girl, i hadn't seen this one before and i didn't really care enough to stay and figure out what she looked like. I simply smirked knowingly at jj before waving off his wink strutting out of the room, closing the door on my way out. JJ and i have a odd history i can tell you that, but that never stopped us from being close, we had a lot in common when we had first meet and had remained close ever since, maintaining a almost more than friendly relationship but never anything more than a flirting glace was ever shared between us. I head back to where i had made my makeshift bed, plopping down on the bead throwing my socks and shoes that i had put beside the bed on, placing my wallet in my back pocket and snatching my phone of the ground by the pillows before strutting out of the house, seeing john b. peacefully sitting on the hammock,

“Your going to poison people with the shit in your fridge, i'm going to the store to restock i'll be back in a little” i call out to him, seemingly starling him out of whatever thought he was in.

“Can you grab some skinny pop?” he called back sitting up, i put my thumb up in the air so he could see as i walked off towards the store already lost in my own thoughts. Before i knew it my feet had brought me to my destination, snapping me out of my tance of scrolling through instagram lost in thought. I looked up from my phone, tucking it in my back pocket and grabbing my shitty old leather wallet i had gotten from my dad for my 14th birthday decorated with pins from where he traveled do for his gigs, him being a famous musician and all he wasn't always home leaving me to do whatever i wished, he would text and tell me to be safe but other than hard drugs and teen pregnancy he was fine as long as whatever i did i did it safely or told him before or after doing it. He is just chill, and we got along great because of it. I pushed the door open causing the bells on the door to jingle, and a faint

“Hello, let me know if I can help you find anything” from the direction of the counter. I let out a small hum, giving a closed mouth smile in that direction, heading to the snack aisle, grabbing two bags of skinny pop, a bag of nacho doritos, and a bag of salted almonds, before heading to the drink aisle grabbing 6 arizona teas, and two snapples for myself knowing that a snapple can fix a hangover if mixed with a vitamin c packet, correctly that is. I shuffled back up to the front, gently putting everything up on the counter, looking up smiling at the boy at the counter, he smiled back before scanning my items quickly,

“wait “ i called out louder than expected making him flinch and look up, i quickly stuck my hand in back pocket pulling out the lump of yarn unfolding it revealing a crochet bag, widespread between each knots, holding it out the the young boy before smiling,

“Can you put my stuff in here? You know how bad the pollution can get with those plastic bags and the ocean” i giggled as he nodded slowly gently taking the bag from my hands, smiling a small smile at me before loading my stuff up and telling me a price, i fished out the money and payed him before grabbing my bag slinging it over my shoulder and walking out of the store, heading back to the chateau.

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

When I arrived back at the chateau, John b. Was still laying out on the hammock, i gently walked over to him , reaching into my bag and pulling out a skinny pop and handing it to him, before smiling as he tore it open like a starving child and dug in,

“Thank you” he said popcorn bits flying out of his already full mouth, causing my nose to scrunch up in disgust, i simply shook my head and headed back inside waving at him. As i walked in the house i saw kie still asleep on the couch, i giggled quietly at her before moving around the couch heading to the kitchen to find pope searching the fridge,

“Dude don't bother i already tied and got poisoned by the orange juice” i giggled setting the bag of snacks on the counter grabbing two arizona out and pushing the bag towards him, pope turned and examined the goods before grabbing the bag of doritos and a snapple, before smiling at me

“Thank you, you are truly and life saver” i giggled at the comment before heading back to the spare bedroom to see the door open, i strut in to see jj leaning back on the pillow hair a mess, no shirt just his boxers barely covered by the thin sheet on the guest bed, his vape in his hand.

“Sup loser, i brought you sum tea” i said to him strutting to the side of the bead he was on, holding a hand out with the tea in it, jj looked up, his ocean blue eyes meeting mine before a sly smirk spread across his face,

“Come ‘ere” he said grabbing my waist pulling me down onto the bed, both of erupting into giggles as i land on my back next to him his torso still leaning over me, his hair dangling down, framing his face perfectly, his dimples in his perfectly tanned face,his- NO damit sunny stop it he's your friend, i had noticed both of our laughter had died down and we were both just smiling at one another. I scrunch my nose up before dropping the Arizona in one of my hands before using it to shove it his face away from me groaning at the smirk he gave me when he leaned onto his side, raising his eyebrows at me.

“Just shut up and drink your damn tea” I said , handing him one. Grumbling to myself as i popped the lid of mine open and took a sip from it, i sighed laying back onto the bed and closing my eyes just enjoying the sounds of nature , and jj gulping down the cold beverage like no tomorrow, i sighed, rolling over to the side of the bed, swinging my legs over the side looking down when my feet hit something thin and soft. My eyes gaze down to see JJ's muscle tee laying on the floor, sighing. I reach down, swiping it off the ground and balling it up. Turning slightly to see JJ scrolling on his phone and a crushed, now empty, Arizona can sitting on the bedside table beside him. I ball up his shirt before throwing it with a little power behind it, it flew through the air and fan itself out as it plopped on his head causing him to pick off the piece of clothing on his head and give me a look of confusion.

“Get dressed i'm sure everyones ready to go out on the water for the day already and you're lagging” I say standing up and flashing him a smile before heading back to the kitchen to get some chips before the other pogues ate them all.

[mymindsmadness]

𝐹𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝐿𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈

Happy MyTake!Monday all!

This Monday I wanted to share something I’ve been messing around with for a while. Several drafts of this have been sitting in my folder forever. It was something I really liked the concept of, but wasn’t sure I could do justice. As of right now, it’s just a one-shot, but I’ve considered writing more. If I do, it probably won’t be every Monday, just for the simple fact that this took me so long to stop messing with. Either way, Enjoy!

Rating: T (as of right now)

Warnings: I’m very much an American. I try to get a lot of the terminology and whatnot as close as I can to not take people out of it, but nothing is perfect. Also, I suffer from insomnia. It doesn’t sound bad, but a lot of my editing was done under sleep deprivation. 

Notes: If you guys like this, make sure to leave a comment. As I’ve said, this is a one-shot right now. For me to even consider writing more, I’d have to know that people were actually enjoying it!

Summary: When Voldemort killed Harry, it was not Dumbledore he met at King’s Cross, but an angel of fate. Harry threw his fate off course, and she’s not happy about it. There is only one thing to do. Start over. 

Although Harry knew death would come quickly, he hadn’t quite understood it until he was standing in the ghostly version of King’s Cross Station. Was this… heaven? Did wizards even believe in such a thing? It didn’t seem like the heaven Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon went on and on about every Sunday after church. There were no puffy clouds or harps. Most importantly, there were no people. Where were his parents? Where was Sirius or Remus or Tonks? Maybe this was some kind of… purgatory? Harry shuttered at the thought. Had he not done enough? Had he not earned his right to be with them? His whole life he had been nothing but a puppet on a string, dancing by the will of others. In the end his life wasn’t even his, but he sacrificed it anyway. If that hadn’t been enough to re-

His thoughts were cut off by his own (admittedly, embarrassingly high-pitched) scream as he turned to find a woman not much other than himself sitting on one of the pearly benches. She looked serene in this place that wasn’t a place. Her eyes were a haunting silver to match everything else around her, but her hair was a wild nest of black curls. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” He didn’t know why, but he had expected her voice to echo within the not-place.

Nervously, Harry wiped his hands down the front of his trousers. “Err – not your fault I suppose.” He tried for a polite smile, but the twitching of her full lips told him he had failed. “Where are we? It looks like King’s Cross…”

“I suppose it does. Though, I’ve never seen it in person.” She hummed, her expression neutral as she looked around. “I think it’s supposed to be symbolic. Either way it came from your subconscious, so it’s hard to say.” She shrugged and moved to one side, patting the bench beside her.

He hesitated, his nerves from being on the run still frazzled. But what was the worst that could happen? He was already dead after all. Carefully, Harry moved to sit beside the woman. “I’m Harry. Harry Potter.”

Again her lips twitched as those sharp mercury eyes turned to him. “I know who you are, Harry Potter.” She hummed again, taking in his appearance. “I’ve been watching you since you were a baby.”

Many people had watched Harry his whole life, it seemed. Still, a chill of unease worked its way up his spine. “Are you… an angel then?” She certain looked angelic enough, if not for the mass of untamed curls that reminded him slightly (unnervingly) of Bellatrix’s.

“In a sense.” Her tone was light. “I’m a fate weave. One that happens to be in charge of your fate line.” His confusion must have been clear because she continued on. “The Greeks had it right – for the most part. Every person on earth has a fate line. Like… a thread that represents a path. You still have freewill, so sometimes that thread gets knotted. It typically sorts itself out, or it had been. Everyone’s thread is woven together into a… tapestry of sorts.” Standing, she held out her hand a moment before a wall of what appeared to be glowing, golden yarn appeared next to her. He couldn’t see the top, as it faded well above the not-place. The edges stuck out over what would have been the tracks, going on for quite some time. Most of the lines ended before it reached the thin frame that held it in place. It didn’t have a particular pattern, and there were loose ends sticking out in places, but it was… beautiful. Harry could have sworn he heard it humming in the silence of the ghostly King’s Cross. There was something about it that humbled him... made him feel insignificant for the first time in years.

“So that - that’s everyone on earth right now?” He asked, standing slowly. Millions of tiny strands, each practically dancing between several others, humming and pulsing it’s siren’s song. “Their fate lines I mean.”

“This is just a small portion.” Standing on her toes, she pointed to a strand of thread, following it with her finger. “This one is yours.” She came to the first small knot. “This is Ron Weasley’s… and a little further down, Hermione Granger’s.” The bands wove together into an elegant braid, at least, from what Harry could see. “You don’t know how hard it was convincing the fate weaver in charge of her line to keep her out of Ravenclaw. In the end, we knew it was for the greater good.”

Hearing their names hurt. He would never see them again. Here he was learning about their lives - their fates that were changed because of him. Maybe this wasn’t heaven or purgatory. Maybe this was hell. Sure, Harry hadn’t been horrible during his time on earth, but he hadn’t been a saint either. “Why are you telling me these things?” It didn’t seem possible in this not-place, but Harry felt… tired. He had been so tired for so long.

“Because you knotted your line.” The woman’s face had been a mask of calm until that point. At this, she looked distraught. “You really mucked it up, you know! I worked day and night to keep you on track, and then you threw your line off course with a bit of idiocy and panic! Because of that, several others were changed.” She pointed to a few loose ends before landing on a tight knot along his own line.

It wasn’t like the small knots that represented his life with Ron and Hermione. This was a nest of tangles that reminded him very much of that one time his Uncle Vernon made him spend the day unknotting Christmas lights. From the sides of the knot, several edges frayed and stuck out in all directions. Only a handful went on after that. Harry’s, he noticed, did not end. “Those ends… are they…”

“Deaths.” She hummed. “I’m going to get demoted now…” Her tiny tone of distress wasn’t meant for him this time.

“So you’re telling me… it’s all planned? I never had a choice at all, and I would always end up here? Dead?” A weight settled in Harry’s stomach that almost made him feel dizzy. “It wouldn’t have mattered if I fought Voldemort or just enjoyed my time with my mates?”

“Of course it mattered, Harry.” Her voice was gentle, her eyes soft. It was almost worse to be pitied. “Typically fate is set, that much is true. You would have always ended up here, but the journey could have been much better for everyone. You’re the first person I’ve ever met that managed to rewrite the outcome of several lives. In fact, this wasn’t meant to be your last stop at all. You were meant to go back.”

“Cheers.” Harry nearly barked. Of course he was the exception. “If fate is set, I don’t see how I could have rewritten it in the first place.”

“It’s like…” She paused, biting her bottom lip before reaching into her nest of hair and producing a hairpin. “This pin is meant to hit the floor, yeah?” She waited for him to nod. “It’s this pin’s fate to land on the floor. It will do so. I want you to try and rewrite its fate.” She released it.

It was only through war-trained senses and years of playing seeker that Harry was able to reach out and grab the hair hairpin mid-air. Holding it up for her to see, he raised an eyebrow feeling satisfied with himself. “That wasn’t very hard. I’m surprised more people don’t rewrite their fate.”

“But you haven’t rewritten it.” She pointed out, a smug smile lighting her face. “Its fate is the same. You might not put it down now, but I imagine you don’t intend to carry it with you always. Maybe to make a point you would for a while, but sooner or later you’ll forget it. Eventually, it will fulfill its destiny. We can manipulate or alter the roads humans take based on their choices, but the outcome will always be the same… except... in your case.”  

“Look, I’m sorry miss…” He balled his fist around the hairpin, willing it to dig into his skin and take away some of his pain.

“Lyra.” She offered, her eyes moving to his fate line in dismay. “Lyra Black.”

Harry’s anger left him in an instant. “As in the Black family? Sirius Black?” It would make sense, now that Harry thought about it. She had the eyes and hair for it, though she looked younger than Sirius.

“Yes.” She was smiling again now, the tapestry nearly humming in protest as she turned from it. “I was his aunt - or second aunt’s cousin? It’s all terribly confusing when it comes to pureblood lines. I never cared for them. I am sorry about him passing through the veil, love. You’ll be happy to know he talked my ear off about you when he passed through here.” She gave him a small smile. “But where were… ah yes.” She pointed to the beginning of the large, unsightly knot. “Mr. Malfoy.”

Harry was still processing the information about his godfather when she mentioned the name. He scoffed, taking a step back in shock. “Lucius Malfoy screwed up my timeline? I should have known-”

“No, no. Don’t be silly.” She waved him off with her free hand. “Draco Malfoy. You used a spell on him… Sectumsempra. Nasty bit of work. Poor dear.”

“P-Poor dear!?” Harry’s anger returned in a flood. “He was going to crucio me! I’ve been fighting a war while he sat on his arse having tea with the dark lord! I hardly think-“

“Don’t be daft.” He was cut off by the sharpness of her gaze. It was easier to her relation to Bellatrix at that moment. “He was a scared child. Don’t you remember what Voldemort told you when you tried to use the cruciatus curse on Bellatrix? He wasn’t wrong when he said that you have to mean it. I hate to be the one to tell you this, Harry, but Draco wouldn’t have meant it. You weren’t meant to hurt him that day, you were meant to save him. 

“He never wanted anyone’s life on his hands. Why do you think he didn’t give you to Voldemort when he had the chance? Doing so would not only have saved his family, but given them a standing social status in the new world. He chose to save your life instead.”

Harry blinked, his eyes moving back to the tapestry. The gaudy knot stuck out more than anything else. Was it true? Was it all true? Part of Harry wanted to believe that Malfoy had not recognized him that day at the manor, but the larger part knew that he had. “I was meant to… save Malfoy? That’s ridiculous! Dumbledore tried!”

“Well Albus wasn’t meant to save him, now was he? Keep up, Potter!” He couldn’t argue with that. “Because you found that blasted book, everything was thrown off. Several deaths could have been avoided and now- are you alright? You’ve gone a bit green.”

Deaths. More death was on his hands. It had been more than just cutting Malfoy open, which he had already felt terrible about… he had killed people. “I think I need to sit down…” He sunk back into the bench behind him as the tapestry flew upwards and out of sight, making the not-place seem even emptier. “All those people… I could have…” He took a deep, shaky breath.

“You still can.” Harry’s chin jerked upwards to meet Lyra’s determined gaze. Suddenly, she looked a great deal more like Sirius than Bellatrix. “It’s against the rules, you see... There will be some things that you cannot change. And you certainly wouldn’t be able to tell anyone. However… if we can unknot the tapestry, you’ll get the fate you deserve and I won’t get sacked.”

Harry wasn’t sure how an angel could even get sacked, but he imagined it wasn’t pleasant. What did she mean? Did she want him to dabble in bringing the dead back? He had no desire to make Inferi, and he didn’t know of any other way. “I… I won’t bring them back to life.”

“Of course not, Harry.” She rolled her eyes. “But what if you could go back to that moment? What if you could do it all over knowing what you know now?”

In the back of his mind something prickled dangerously. It sounded an awful lot like Hermione warning him not to meddle with time. But what if he could. He would still be a horcux… he would still have to fight… but maybe, with more time, he wouldn’t have to die. Not like this. “Okay… yes. I want to do it over.”

Her smile was cat-like as she placed a hand on his shoulder. “Chin up Harry. You’re going to love where this leads.”

As everything faded to white, the last thing Harry saw was the glint of light off the small black hair pin sitting quietly on the floor... 

 Also being posted to AO3 (in case). You can follow it HERE

Buy Me A Ko-Fi?

[rachmakesstuff]

Universal Constants of Yarn Stores

So, prior to the last couple weeks, I had never been to a yarn store that wasn’t a Michael’s or the craft aisle of Wal-Mart.  Now that I’ve been to two very lovely, locally-owned yarn-specific stores, I’ve taken note of a few recurring themes that I’m going to assume are 100% factually representational as universal constants for all local yarn shops.  Of these, I believe there are at least 5:

1. Hanks only no skeins allowed - I’d never seen a hank of yarn in real life before.  According to the owner of Yarn Kandy in Little Rock, this is mostly for ease of display.  I will admit that they look very attractive hanging up in a row or all beautifully stacked on top of each other in shelves. However, now that I actually bought a hank that I had to wind into a ball myself, I can’t say I’m a fan.  It’s probably my own fault for not knowing what I was doing, but I managed to get my yarn massively tangled in the de-hanking process.  I spent a good half hour just figuring out how to undo the multitudinous snags and knots that I created.  Could’ve done without that.

2. Very friendly lady owner - Not to generalize knitting or crafting to women, of course, but I’m definitely standing by the friendly part.  They were really nice and helpful, and they definitely know more about what they’re doing than even the most qualified Michael’s employee I’ve had questions for.

3. Nice public crafty area - When I showed up at Yarn Kandy, I may or may not have dropped by around the same time that the resident Knitting Circle was getting together.  I also may or may not have been eavesdropping on them just a tiny bit, a fact which I absolutely don’t regret because those ladies were very spunky and funny, and I want to be like them.  The Twisted Purl had a lovely little area full of comfy chairs where the owner was working on an equally lovely shawl using yarn that was apparently made special for the store!  She mentioned that usually, there were more people there, and I was welcome to come back sometime and knit.  I’m pretty shy, but I honestly might come back, if only for the cute comfy chairs.

4. Dogs?? - I don’t know how, but both of these shops had resident dogs?  They were such good boys.  Twisted Purl Dog was named Loki, and one of the specially made yarns was named after him, and I could cry for how cute that is.  Gosh, I love dogs.  Please let there be dogs in every yarn shop ever.

5. Sense of contentment and inner peace - Maybe it’s just because the places were full of yarn - yarn by its very nature being associated with comfy, warm feelings - but I felt, like, full-on giddy.  It was so pleasing just to be there.

[eldritchwyrm]

what goes around comes around (a fic for the glorious 25th of may)

The first time Lu-Tze learned of the Glorious People’s Republic of Treacle Mine Road was long before Sam Vimes got caught in a thunderstorm and was swept thirty years into the past. In fact, when Lu-Tze was young and light on his feet and had only just moved to Ankh-Morpork for the first time, he took a wrong turn and stumbled upon a narrative temporal phenomenon the likes of which he had never seen in his life.

He was picking up some groceries for Mrs. Cosmopolite, who was graciously allowing him lodging, because was it not written that What Goes Around Comes Around? He was also lost.

He tried asking random passerby for directions, but his attempts were all rebuffed with variants on “up yours, mister” and the slurs that were generally leveled at anyone who looked too foreign for their own good. So instead of turning onto the Pitts as she should have, he missed the intersection and continued straight ahead.

It was the 25th of May. Spring was battling valiantly against the smog and grime of the city, and contrary to all expectation the few shrubs that had survived were putting out green shoots.

Lu-Tze hitched up the bag of groceries and thought the sacred wisdom: My Joints Aren’t What They Used To Be. He was a bit young for that one, he reflected, but was not all wisdom valuable?

He turned onto Treacle Mine Road.

It was noon. Bright and sunny. The street was loud and busy with carts and animals and people, as you’d expect on any weekday. And yet as he walked forward, the sun dimmed. The air cooled. The hustle of the streets became muffled, farther away.

The scent of lilac filled in the air.

The hairs on his arms tingled like a storm was approaching.

He took a good look around, really looked rather than focusing on the unimportant surface bits, like the buildings and the people—and nearly choked on his own tongue.

This—this was—it was a disruption in the space-time continuum so extreme that it was a wonder anyone in the immediate vicinity was still alive. This was a rift so profound that rationally speaking, he should be standing in the equivalent of a smoking crater where a chunk of functional reality used to be.

There were no words to describe the wrongness of this place. You could say that the passage of time in this location was like a length of yarn which had been bundled into a ball and left unattended in a room full of eager-eyed kittens. (It would be blatantly incorrect, but you could definitely say that.)

“Ye gods,” said Lu-Tze, because some words always worked.

He ditched the groceries and started running.

He burst through the door of Mrs. Cosmopolite’s boarding house with a crash. The hostess jumped in surprise and nearly hit him over the head with the plate she was drying, but restrained herself, because that wasn’t Done. Instead she shouted, “Young man, just what do you think you’re doing?”

“No time!”

If he’d stopped to think properly he would have realized how stupid a statement that was, but he was busy racing up the stairs and into his room. He grabbed his emergency supply pack from under the bed and dashed out again.

There were images in his head that didn’t make sense—darkness and rain and a silver cigar case, gleaming on the cobbles, and lilacs blooming in the night, over and over again.

When he returned to Treacle Mine Road he knelt down in the middle of the street, right in the middle of traffic, and the carts moved smoothly around him without a blink, despite their relocation occasionally involved a minor rewriting of the conventional laws of physics. He barely noticed. He found a bare patch of dirt and got to work. He would be hard-pressed to construct a sophisticated detection mandala on such short notice, but he would damn well make do...

The air crackled with energy as he finished the last curve on the mandala. He dusted his hands and waited.

It began to turn.

The patterns shifted, then stilled.

He frowned. “No,” he said. “That can’t be right.  Historical imperative? But this is so obviously a narrative disruption. An unfinished story.”

A rift in time that didn’t exist, memories of events that never happened... it had to be a result of an incomplete narrative unable to achieve a single resolution. Something, somewhen, had gone wrong, and a major role had gone unfulfilled, and now the phenomenon was scrabbling for a solution.

“Must be incorrectly set up,” he muttered to himself. “I mean, this thing is telling me there should be a major temporal incident any moment now—”

Unfortunately, the young Lu-Tze had not yet learned some valuable wisdom. For is it not written that You Are So Sharp You'll Cut Yourself?

There was a sound like an elastic band snapping, and the world turned sideways.

He stumbled upright once the universe had returned to something close to normal and scrambled to get his bearings. He was still in the present day, but another time was—how to describe it, how to describe it—layered on top, one moment falling over the other like snow. Fog and wind and darkness swirled in, obscuring the sky, wreathing around the figures in the courtyard before him.

The men were wearing Watch uniforms.

“Okay, lads,” said one of the men. He had an eyepatch and a battered breastplate, and a voice that echoed as if it was coming from very far away. Years ago, thought Lu-Tze. “What we’re going to do is keep the peace. That’s our job...”

If Lu-Tze concentrated, he could still feel the rush of wind from the passing street and hear the sound of the busy city. But here, in a much more real sense, he could see the watchmen shuffling anxiously as they listened to the sergeant-at-arms. He talked about duty and right and wrong, and then he drew a line in the sand, and then the men made their choice.

History struck a chord.

The world shifted.

A barricade climbed into the air, higher and higher, packed with furniture and upturned carts and spare wood, held up by desperate hope and bottomless fear, the rawest emotions of humanity. When sufficiently concentrate, those were capable of twisting time into knots so complex that only a master of the temporal would ever be able to undo them.

And why would they want to? So what if someone thought it was odd that time crawled by while they were under stress, or if it went by instantly during a fun afternoon? That was what made people human. 

That sound again, and the world changed again—

A battle was raging around him. Men in battered uniforms, not many, fighting for their lives, wearing the lilac...

...the man with the eyepatch leapt forward, sword a blur in his hands, hacking wildly...

...and across the street, untouched by the carnage, was a little old man in a robe. He was sweeping peacefully at a patch of dust, undisturbed by the blood and guts and destruction whirling around him. It was surreal.

The old man looked up and winked.

Time stood still.

(Well, it didn’t really stand still, but the true answer involved multivariable calculus and besides, it was a useful metaphor and at this moment in time Lu-Tze was not the type to spend valuable effort messing about with the sneaky kind of sums with letters in them.)

The old sweeper carefully plodded across the frozen tableau, ducking under an upraised sword and stepping around the body of a watchman who had not yet hit the ground.

Ah, so another monk was on the problem, then? The young time-traveler stood up straight and tried to act like this was an expected development.

“Hey, kid,” said the sweeper. “You look like you could use a cup of tea.”

* * *

Lu-Tze was convinced that this particular branch of the No Such Monastery did not exist in the present day, which made it quite worrying that it appeared to exist in both the past and the future.

He sipped his tea with yak butter and eyed the old sweeper suspiciously. He distrusted older authority figures on principle.

“So you spotted the incongruity, did you,” said the sweeper. “Historical imperative’s a tricky thing, isn’t it.”

“It’s not historical imperative. It’s narrative causality.��

The sweeper sighed. “You’ve got a lot to learn, kiddo. It’s both. The Glorious People’s Republic of Treacle Mine Road... it didn’t take long for the city to forget, but the story still leaves echoes. It wants to be remembered.”

The young man frowned. “I kept having memories of things that never happened. Deja vu without the original vu.”

“Sounds pretty standard. Lilacs, right? You smelled the lilacs? That’s the anchor. On the Glorious 25th of May, the lilacs are in bloom. They will always be in bloom, forever and ever, for as long as time exists, and whenever the survivors see it, they’ll be brought back here. Even poor sods like you with receptive enough minds will be saddled with this piece of history.”

“But this doesn’t mean anything to me. I don’t understand why a bunch of men would just get themselves killed like that just—just to be heroes.” Lu-Tze knew a dramatic last stand when he saw one.

“Yeah, see, that’s 'cos you’re seventeen and I’m old and wise,” said the sweeper. “Why do we fix time? Is it because we want to be heroic? Is it because we have to? No, we do it because we could just let time curl in on itself and extinguish all the complicated bits like sentient life, but we decide to make fixing this mess our job.”

“But—alright, fine, but there’s still a gigantic rift in reality and I’m standing in it. What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing.”

“What?”

“You heard me. There’s no reason to muck about with a story that’s looking to be told. This case is unusual, mostly ‘cause it’s a bit under-construction if you know what I mean, but yea, is it not written that There’s A First Time For Everything?”

The young time-traveler sat bolt upright. “You—you’re a follower of the Way? But none of the senior monks—it’s just a thing that I made up so—I mean—”

The sweeper shook his head sadly. “Hoo boy. I really am paying for how much of an idiot back then. I suppose What Goes Around Comes Around.”

The young history monk’s eyes widened, realization dawning. He opened his mouth to speak, but the old man interrupted him. “Now, this is slightly more complicated than a standard closed time loop, since you’re not here in any physical sense. So if I just...”

He slashed his hand through the air. The air began to sing with mounting tension, time itself groaning under the weight, and the world snapped back to the present.

The city streets bustled around him. Lu-Tze's mouth was slack with shock. Had that really been...?

He looked down at the mandala he had scrawled in the dirt. The wind had scrubbed it out.

Overhead, the lilacs were in bloom.

[sharonkfalk]

Home Soon!

I’m coming home soon. I’m really excited. I’m definitely not homesick (or ship-sick!), just really looking forward to seeing my family (especially meeting the newest and CUTEST members of our family, my nephews: Axel and Riah!). I’m excited to go home, but at the same time not excited to leave. I will desperately miss the incredible friends I’ve made here on the ship, and there are so many things I’ve grown to love about living in West Africa and this weird floating hospital/community.  If you ask me how my “trip” went, I’ll probably just say: GOOD. I was warned that I should have a “Cole’s Notes” version of the last 11 months ready to spout when asked… because let’s face it, who has the attention span to listen to a monologue? But how do you summarize so many experiences into a simple sound bite? So I decided to write a really, really ridiculously long blog post. But hey, there are pictures!

Some experiences (in no particular order) that I haven’t blogged about yet and have really shaped this incredible journey:

Knitting club! Spending time on the wards with patients has been really special. It’s so nice to bond in a non-work capacity with the patients and their families. Initially I found it hard with the language barrier, but having a common activity broke down walls and turned into such fun entertainment. I loved it when the men picked the hot pink yarn, little boys just made tangled up knots, the baby’s unraveled all the balls of yarn, and some of the mama’s became knitting prodigies. This is a picture of Justina with her daughter, Emmanuela. Emmanuela had plastic surgery on her foot to treat gigantism. 

Teaching Sunday School has been so much fun. I have loved getting to know the kids that live on the ship. One particularly funny moment was just after Christmas we did a lesson plan that involved a craft using snow flakes - a bunch of the kids had ever seen snow in real life before!! 

I got to participate in our school’s work experience program (there is a school onboard for kids who live on the ship with their families, it’s called “The Academy”). We had a job fair, then the students sent in an email job application, then we “hired” a student to spend a week in the pharmacy with us. On one hand, hanging out with a student made me realize I am getting old… on the other hand, it reaffirmed that I love talking about and being a pharmacist because it is literally the coolest job ever. (Medicinal chemistry rocked my world). This is a picture of Charlotte, our student - who is helping Renee (an Aussie pharmacist!) and I. It was such a fun experience! 

Sakété: a village I didn’t know existed a year ago has become like a second home to me. Sometimes it’s drinking Milo and eating spaghetti n’ omelettes at Le  Cafétéria, chillin with the family, doing yardwork, or running after “the Littles.” Each and every visit has been such a gift. The first time I went I thought I’d be the one doing odd jobs and helping out around the orphanage, Arbre de Vie (http://treeoflifeusa.org/), but instead I was showered with such incredible hospitality and generosity. This amazing ministry is so much more than just a home to the children living in the orphanage. Jon and Ashley have lived in Benin full time since 2010, and then were joined by Jillian in 2014, followed by Justin and Rachel in 2016. Together they run an infant nutrition program, support children so they can remain in their home environment, and work to meet the health and social needs within the area of Sakété. I can’t even begin to tell you how hard they work and how much they pour into their ministry. I have been so privileged to meet and so inspired by Jon, Ash, Jil, Justin and Rachel. 

One of my favourite things about this ship is that people are so willing to teach you and share about their role. I’ve been able to spend time in so many different areas on the ship, like the rehab tent, the engine room, the bridge, inpatient treatment room (to watch/assist with dressing changes) and the lab (aka nerd heaven - who doesn’t love microscopes!?). I got to see a real live schistosoma egg! Parasites are so adorable! (when they are not living in your own body…) 

Our hospital is like a small community and that means not only do we get opportunities to partner with other departments, but they also return the favour! I’ve had friends come in after hours or on their spare time to help us out with packaging medications for “take home packs” that are given out to patients. We’ve also had nurses on “special project days” come by and help too! Oh, and we even recruited some kindergartners! 

I’ve really treasured my visits to the Hospital Out-Patient Extension (HOPE) Centre. After surgery, the HOPE center offers a safe, clean environment for recovery, with easy access to the ship for follow-up care. We have an amazing team dedicated to working at the HOPE Centre and looking after our patients. I’ve made many trips out there on my bicycle to hangout and play games with the kids for an afternoon, and attended the Sunday morning church services there too. My favourite was when the HOPE Centre was full of our orthopedic patients. I did so many laps around the compound with these little kiddos wearing their casts or braces, all fighting to hold my hand (or elbow, or wrist, or belt loop or t-shirt!)… I think my record was 7 kids at a time. Around Christmastime some of the patients had learned the words to “Jingle Bells” and would (attempt) to sing it - their loud voices, broken English and enthusiasm was hysterical.   

I have had a front row seat to witness incredible transformations in patients: physically, spiritually and emotionally. People who would have been dead if it were not for surgical intervention… Like Adiza, who had a goiter removed that weighed over 2kg! She had been suffering for over 40 years, now to the extent that her breathing was being impaired by the large mass growing on her neck. It’s such a privilege to be involved in patient care that really changes lives. I’ve compounded acetazolamide suspension to reduce intracranial pressure for encephalocele patients before and after surgery, dispensed medications to correct electrolyte imbalances so patients attain normal lab values and remain eligible for surgery, and provided lifesaving antibiotics for multi-drug resistant infections. I’ve stressed over our stock levels, praying that we have enough medication to treat every patient that we see… I’ve been frustrated when it feels like I can’t provide everything here that I would be able to at home… it’s a roller coaster sometimes, but it’s a ride I am so glad I got to take.

I got to spend a day at the Ponseti Clinic with Nick and Melichor. Talk about amazing – not only did I get my share of cast plaster all over my scrubs, but I learned that the Ponseti Method is the gold standard treatment for correcting clubfeet. It’s cost-effective (which is especially useful in developing countries!), non-invasive and has a 98% success rate. How it’s done: gradually moving the child’s foot into the correct position and then holding it there with a cast. This process is repeated multiple times until the foot is where it should be. Often this is followed by a tenotomy (a small cut to the Achilles tendon to release tension – a procedure I got to see!). Lastly, a brace is used to maintain the feet at the correct angle and prevent clubfoot from recurring. The work will continue in Benin long after the ship departs because Nick worked as a mentor and trained at a local clinic to carry out the Ponseti method. (Nick & his wife, Suzanne’s, blog: http://www.theveltjens.blogspot.com/ )

I spent a day at the dental clinic. I actually got to help out a little bit – bringing patients in from the waiting room (after extensively mispronouncing their names!), using the little suctioning tube thing to suck up all sorts of little goopy bits and blood, and then finally escorting them out of the clinic. There is only 1 dentist per 5 million people in Benin, so most of these people have never been to a dentist in their lives. We did extractions and fillings. It was special for me to hand out the “pre-packs” of medications that I’ve literally spent  hours, days and weeks counting out. It just brings it full circle  

During the time of obstetric/gyne surgeries on the ship we had weekly “Dress Ceremonies.” This ceremony is held for women who have had a vaginal fistula repaired and are able to go back home. Vaginal fistulas are unfortunately quite common in Western Africa. A combination of things including poor access to emergency obstetric care and small pelvises in these women results in some labours lasting days (some longer than 7 days!) which causes pressure on the bladder +/- rectum and necrosis of the tissue. This causes a hole to form (a fistula) resulting in a constant leak of urine +/- faeces. A surgical procedure may repair the hole(s) and prevent leaking. Often the women suffering from fistula’s are  rejected from her family, her home and village. She is publicly shamed and sometimes beaten due the strong smell. By having the surgery, she is physically restored and then can be accepted back into her community. This beautiful transformation is why we celebrate with a new dress for each woman. 

I spent a whirlwind of a day at the eye clinic where we saw patients as part of screening pre-op, and also following up on patients who already had their cataract surgeries. I got to assist one of the optometrists by administering drops and writing down stuff on patient’s charts that I did not understand (word’s that sound made up, like “drusen”). I shook hands with a lady who was so thrilled that her vision was restored after cataract surgery that she was singing and dancing in the line. Then I attended the “Celebration of Sight” where we did exactly that – celebrated! Benin style!

There are always people on the ship that I feel like I admire from afar - since there are 400+ volunteers living on the ship it’s impossible to get to know everyone as much as you would like. I could write for hours about some of the world-changing, courageous, brilliant people I have met here.  One of these amazing women I have so much respect and admiration for is Lee-Anne. Lee-Anne lives on board with her family and works as a dietitian with the Infant Feeding Program. This program aids extremely malnourished infants, many afflicted with cleft lips and palates. We often provide vitamin supplements from the pharmacy for these babies, so I was thrilled to shadow Lee-Anne and see what the program does first hand. It’s crucial to fatten these kiddo’s up because babies have to be a certain weight in order to be eligible for a cleft lip and/or palate repair.

My heart is full… a little bit worn and tired but also full from such amazing and varied experiences.  I hope I’ve changed. I hope I’ve been able to learn things and won’t forget the people I’ve met along the way.