#penwiper

[sprigara]

Succulents in spring 🍃

I'm always drawn to succulents, even when I'm just on a walk, not really thinking about pictures

It's too humid to have them where I come from (as my involuntary manslaughter of a few would confirm). So seeing them in random flower beds is a treat ☺️

[dathen]

“Look here,” I said. “This inkpot is Miss Vickers. This mug with ‘A Present from Marvis Bay’ on it is the child. This penwiper is Mr. Bullivant.”

This is just me playing DnD

[big-edies-sun-hat]

Was meaning to post some of my older fics in case there were new fans. As it is, they’ll do very nicely for brief comfort reads—sweet, gentle, and sometimes ridiculous, rated M to T.

Some rather revealing drawings come to light, and Crowley is going to be embarrassed in front of the entire British Museum.

On occasion, people came into his bookshop to give him their little gifts in person; and these people were almost always women. They were older ladies, generally widows who had seen too much of men or spinsters who wanted to marry a library, and they angled politely for his attention, bringing him oranges or penwipers. Eventually, each of them came to the conclusion that they were in the wrong shop. Even so, most of them were still quite fond of him, and would stop in to see about the latest Miss Edgeworth (or Trollope, or Dickens, or Masefield, or Agatha Christie, as the years rolled on).

Crowley took the glass from his hand, brushing his fingers, and drank. It was perfect: of course it was perfect. An angel bartender was free to cheat, of course, as Aziraphale did. Even so, he had never made Crowley quite such a good drink before, the sweetness of orange and the bite of liquor.

[thingsic]

penwiper kalanchoe

[degracieuse]

Pennewisscher in den vorm van een korenschoof Afbeelding No. 3. Dit model is in den vorm van een schoof van het bovenste gedeelte van korenhalmen vervaardigd, die regelmatig naar elkaar op een kartonnen koker zijn geplakt en schijnbaar met een gekleurd taffen lint, met den point-russe versierd, bij elkaar worden gehouden. Ons model is 20 d. hoog, en heeft van onderen een omvang van 18 d. De koker die aan het boveneind 14 d. wijd is, behoeft slechts zoo hoog te zijn, dat de aren vrij over den koker heen komen. Bij het schikken van de halmen om den koker, moet men, opdat de halmen niet te dicht bij elkaar zoude liggen, afwisselend een halm met aren, en twee zonder aren opplakken. Men vult de middelste ruimte met afzonderlijke aren, die dicht boven den halm afgesneden, en met een weinig arabische gom bestreken worden, zoodat zij zich aan de aren van buiten er opgeplakt aansluiten. De eigenlijke pennewisscher bestaat uit smalle reepjes zwart laken, deze zijn in een kartonnen koker ongeveer 4 d. hoog bevestigd, op een vlak, cirkelrond stukje karton gehecht, met laken bekleed. De buitenrand is, zooals de afb. aantoont, met kleine patten van gekleurd laken versierd. Deze pennewisscher wordt in den koker geschoven. Men kan zulk een schoof ook voor lucifersbakje gebruiken.

[bookhoarding]

What's up with those Victorian patterns?

What’s up with those Victorian patterns?

Continuing my Brambly Hedge year, I decided I *had* to make plushie mice, and I found a free, Victorian era pattern I couldn’t resist. But after a little dive into the free pattern, I found the backstory for this lil mouse, or rather the magazine it came from, was worth talking about. Whether on Pinterest, IG or FB, I think we’ve all seen similar screen grabs of this Victorian-looking…

[plant-water-sun-repeat]

One of my favorites, the "Pen-wiper" kalanchoe - it's duplicated itself, and now lives in the upstairs deck. Doing great!

[plantstudyspace]

Thursday, 10th October, 2019

I'm relieved to see growth once again. The growth was a bit stagnant for a while, with the newest pair having one lead bigger than the other but I think it's okay now.

🌱🌱🌱

[thebelmontrooster]

Potted Plants Update #1: The Front Porch Part 2

Potted Plants Update #1: The Front Porch Part 2

Hello everyone! I hope this post finds you well. Last week was definitely a hot one starting out at 97° F for a couple of days then just 91-93 for the remainder of the week. A few degrees doesn’t make much difference but it is very hard to want to go outside until after 6 PM. The heat and humidity seem so draining and not very motivational. A few times I walked to the shed and then went back to…

[kivrin]

DONE

This workday is finally over. Just have to turn off the lights and then I can get out of here. Thanks for the support!

[flowerbloom-arts]

Omnishambles

chapter 1

In which I, the Muddler, have become an invisible leech on my fellow crewmen, the Moomin tries to ignore the situation, my Joxter tries to salvage my visibility in any way he can, my uncle falls into a great sadness, and then I go to sleep.

-

Prolog | Next Chapter

[Features the whole Oshun Oxtra. Full of angst. 3.5 k words long. Some Juddler (Joxter x Muddler) cuz I can't help myself.]

🥀

I sat there as my uncle explained to the others what had happened to me in an emotion I don't remember seeing him express before. He was normally so stoic, what happened…? I looked at the ground and only then noticed my legs weren't where they're meant to be.

Where was I? Was I… gone? As I tried to look for myself, my uncle finally explained that I seemed to have turned invisible.

Oh. So that's what this is.

I'm just invisible. Not gone – but not a ghost, either; they just can't see me under my still visible burnt saucepan. I didn't know how to feel about it. I was still trying to process what had happened, how my tin was gone. Just… Gone.

I still couldn't believe that.

I had that old thing for as long as I can remember… which, admittedly, isn't that much since I can't seem to remember much of my adolescence but, still, I'm pretty sure I've had that thing for a very long time, not to mention everything that was inside it: My penwipes, pipe cleaners, cookware, cutlery, gears, tools, pencils, clothes, jewelry… buttons… My poor buttons especially… Every one of those I've collected myself; some were gifts from my Joxter, yes, but I went to riverbanks and dumps – and you don't want to know where else – to get everything. I had to spend time walking, searching, and finding them, I had to take so many baths to clean off those horrible smells off my wretched self. All of that just to satisfy some unreasonable desire I can't even begin to describe.

And now, everything that I've gained from it is nothing but debris in the middle of nowhere, lost to rust, engulfed by the great unknowns of the abyss below our boat.

Now, I was worthless. At least, I felt so.

Hodgkins searched for my arm and lifted me up so I could stand, confirming that yes, I was there, just not able to be seen.

I looked at him as he gave me – or I suppose the ground or saucepan – the most disquieted look I've ever seen on that old blue face of his.

"Are you alright?" He asked gently.

I nodded, but all they could see was a pot tilting up and down. I looked at the others for the first time in this state.

Moomin tried to keep a serious expression but his eyes had a deep horror within them, and Joxter had such an expression of heartbreak that I desperately wished I could've mustered up an apology for him, but I'm completely voiceless as it turns out. I looked down and noticed the Nibling – I think he didn't know what to think, really, he was speechless with confusion, as we haven't known each other for long and had little to no bond.

Hodgkins' paw drifted down from above my elbow to my own paw and said "Let's take you to the pilot-house," as he guided me there.

I looked back at the crew one last time and then quickly turned back around before the guilt took hold of me. Despite this, it still eventually enveloped my heart knowing they held the same expressions as they watched us leave.

I sat down on the couch of the pilot-house and my uncle went to the chest to search for something. I looked at him and wondered why he's still bothering with doing anything to help me, still bothering to care at all. He only cares about important matters, he was always a practical man that I admired deeply, he was too big to care about little things. So why would he care about me if I wasn't at least useful? Now I'm just useless, why am I worth his time anymore?

He came up to me with a blue ribbon and snapped it in half with his claw. He kneeled before me and asked to place my paw on his, when I did so he tied the ribbon around my palm and tied it like a bracelet, he did the same to my other paw. This was so they can see where my paws are, probably so I wouldn't mess up without their foresight…

My uncle looked down at the ribbons silently and I could tell words were being discarded in his head for what he should say now, some part of him was also considering not saying anything at all, but finally he came up with a forlorn "I'm sorry…" in a tone I only heard when he rarely spoke of his past "I am so sorry…" he continued slowly "I… I shouldn't have let this… that… happen," he looked up at my pan and I noticed the mist in his eyes, this was so unlike him, I couldn't possibly muster a word if I was able to. He sighed heavily and asked guiltily; "Am I at fault?"

I shook my head decidedly, of course it's not his fault, what happened wasn't remotely controlled by him, why would he even ask this?

Hodgkins nodded sadly and patted my arm twice. He got up and moved his arm across his face, checked for tears and rubbed that part of his arm while he looked out the window. The rest of the crew was already gone by now, so he looked upward at the horizon and held onto the steering wheel.

"We'll find land," he muttered to himself and made a few things on the control panel click "We have to," he added "We have to…" he repeated more quietly and desperately.

I looked down at the floating ribbon hoops and felt sorry that this didn't go as I had hoped – I hoped that I could actually disappear, quickly and painlessly, but now I had somehow become more of an inconvenience and a reminder of things they think they've done wrong. I even made my own uncle cry, what person does that? Why is it so difficult to do anything right? I couldn't even stop being a nuisance right – at most they got to stop looking at my miserable face, but what good is that if they still had to worry about me over everything? My mind echoed apologies and I didn't have the voice to let it escape, I couldn't say sorry as I always did a million times a day, it was suffocating.

How was it that I felt more suffocated in open air than a cramped and crowded tin of metal and wood and plastic? Why did I have to be this pathetic and upsetting? Why was I like this? What was I like before? Did it matter what the answer was?

I was a wretched little thing – or rather, a wretched thing that wanted to be little. A disgusting wretched thing, really. I couldn't… I couldn't be any better if I tried. This isn't any better. Worse than I imagined, in fact.

My imagination really was rubbish.

Why must it be so difficult to not be myself for once? Why did I have to paint my tin when just the boat sufficed? I didn't even write its name properly, of course I didn't, my uncle was sparing my feelings – it was supposed to be Ocean Orchestra, not Oshun Oxtra, only an illiterate fool would call this work of craftsmanship an 'Oshun Oxtra', I didn't know at the time… if I wasn't so sensitive Hodgkins would've corrected me and I wouldn't have made this boat so laughable like myself. I was… he… he cares so much for nothing, doesn't he.

Gosh. What a mistake that must be…

I tried to curl up into a ball to muffle my own thoughts somehow and the sliding sound of my invisible paw against my saucepan alerted my uncle, he knew what I was trying to do just by the position of my paws and my headgear. I was upset, and I was trying to stop being upset, so he left the steering wheel and came over to help.

Silent as he is, he moved my paw aside and I looked at him. He wouldn't know from looking but I was on the brink of crying like a small child, but as we'd learned our song and dance from doing it over and over, he could sense it. His ears lowered and he sat next to me, being careful not to step or sit on any part of me. He crossed his arms and leaned on his legs while having some difficulty thinking of what to do or say again.

It really must be hard for a man like him to walk in a room full of eggshells that made nonsensical noises…

Out of an inability to do anything else, I slowly and hesitantly hugged his arm and back, hoping it'll make up for the lack of apology. He really seemed to need one, to me atleast, apologies were the only thing I had to offer him. My slow breathing turned into sniffles as I choked back tears thinking about how awfully insufficient or ill fitting this must be for him, and finally I cracked and started crying on his shoulder – goodness gracious, he was literally my shoulder to cry on.

Hodgkins noticed this and held my arm with a paw. "Hey hey it's alright, I'm fine, you're fine, sorry for not saying anything, I really should learn how to," he told me and rubbed his thumb on my arm "Please don't cry… I didn't mean…" his voice hollowed out and he left himself in silence.

I continued weeping and held a tighter grip on him, hoping this painful feeling could go away if I did. Hodgkins' paw moved to my back and he twisted his position so he could hug me properly.

I felt my eyes widen and then looked down, this was the first time in a while he hugged me, I was too afraid to be touched since the Booble incident. Tears welled up and I buried and rubbed my head against his chest, making the saucepan slide off. It tumbled down and hit the ground with a large bang which made both of us flinch.

The sound rang in my ears. I had ruined it, I ruined this hug and now Hodgkins will have to pick it up for me. Why did it have to be ruined? Why did I have to ruin this moment? Why…

Hodgkins didn't seem to care, he only pulled me in closer and held my head "It's fine," he muttered and continued in silence.

I felt a strange mix of emotions, but above them… I just… I really did miss being hugged by him and feeling the world melt away.

…

Is it too selfish to wish this could last longer than it should?

I wanted to be able to ask him if we could stay like this all day… but at the same time I didn't.

I didn't want him to do something he didn't want to do because he pitied me. Then again he probably did most things out of pity for me. Yet this is probably a stressful time for him, having an invisible nephew on his boat, pretty sure I'm the last member of his family that could be here with him… that's really not the best luck to have, is it?

I wanted to let go, but I didn't, but I did. It was just too nice of a hug to break out of, and I was too scared I'd hurt his feelings if I did, but also he could possibly be wishing we'd stop already. Hodgkins had a job to be the ship's captain and I was keeping him away from it. He probably really wants to check if his boat is in good condition after that horrendous storm, it should be his first priority, not me, anything but me.

Why should I be?

…

The comfortable silence was broken by Moomin's yelling below deck; "Do you really think any of this is going to work!?"

He sounded frustrated. Hodgkins and I looked at the floor and my immediate reaction was to go down and try to defuse the situation or help with what's going on, and so it also was Hodgkins' reaction awell, apparently.

He put an arm up against me as if to say I should stay here, but of course I didn't, it probably had something to do with my Joxter, after all! And he and Moomin didn't get along very well, they could get into a fight! I picked up my fallen saucepan, put it on and silently followed Hodgkins from behind to see what's going on down there.

"Muddler should be fine! He's just not visible!" I heard Moomin cry from below deck "I don't think it's worth searching for lost junk like a madman!"

We passed the Nibling looking down worriedly at the entrance (he wasn't allowed in there especially after the night he stowed away and made literally everything all sticky) and went down the stairs. Hodgkins stopped to look at the situation and I peeped behind him, holding his back. He felt my grip and looked at my saucepan but didn't say anything, both of us looked back at the scene between Moomin and Joxter.

"That's because you didn't give a jonk's whisker about him in the first place! Muddler's my friend! You're just a tag-along Hodgkins met right before we got launched into this mess of an adventure!" Joxter replied and went back to searching for something in a drawer. Moomin was holding a slightly wet fishing net and had the most offended look I've ever seen on his face.

"Tag-along!? I've worked to be a valuable member of this crew while you lazed about doing nothing but smoke and eat and sleep! If anything, you're the tag-along here!" Moomin accused. Joxter scoffed and didn't reply, only continuing to search in the drawer. Moomin was getting even angrier "Did you not hear me!?"

"Not sure about Joxter. But we heard from above deck," Hodgkins said.

Moomin's ears shot up. He dropped the fishnet and turned around to look up at my uncle and gestured toward my Joxter "Hodgkins!! Thank goodness you're here! Could you please knock some sense into this creature! He tried to recover Muddler's junk with your fishing net and that obviously didn't work, now he's trying to scrounge up anything he can to give it to Muddler, thinking it'll fix him somehow!"

He's doing that for me…? He rarely gets out of his way to do anything, and he's searching for things… for me?

"First; pick up the net," Hodgkins commanded calmly.

Moomin froze and bent down to do so "Ah, right, sorry-"

"Second; Joxter is doing what he can for what he cares about. Don't dare discourage it," Hodgkins said sternly.

"Thank you!" Joxter exclaimed exasperatedly, still looking through the drawer, he gave up and closed it in favour of the one under it. Moomin growled, irritated at this, and folded up the fishnet.

"Well if he's being 'useful', what are we meant to do?" Moomin asked.

"We… should check for damages. That storm was harsh," Hodgkins suggested and put his arm behind to pat my back, he looked down at my saucepan and asked "Do you want to stay with Joxter?"

I nodded. I felt like I needed to stay with him if he's putting in so much effort just to help me, but I still held a tight grip on Hodgkins' jacket.

Hodgkins' eyebrows and ears lowered and he lightly pushed me forward toward Joxter "It'll be fine. You're the only person he never bites."

I looked at him and slowly turned my head to look at Joxter, he seemed to be trying to analyze my saucepan and ribbons for the context of where I am. I shrank back at his gaze, yet I stepped forward shyly and held my paws together. He sat on the floor and watched me approach him slowly, he patted the ground silently, signaling that I should sit down with him. I kneeled on the wooden floor.

Hodgkins, upon seeing this interaction, felt sure enough to ascend up the stairs. Moomin followed behind, shooting us a quick glare before disappearing up himself.

I stared silent at the closed entrance. I heard rattling next to me and turned to discover it was just Joxter frantically emptying his pockets of everything he had found so far, he seemed almost excited to present them to me.

He picked up a loose cogwheel from the small pile and held it between his pointer and thumb "Look! I know it's not much but I know that the reason you turned invisible is because you lost your tin – or at least that's the thing that pushed you into it – so my thinking is that if we rebuild the collection, perhaps it can make you feel better and you can turn visible again? Maybe it wouldn't help entirely but I'm hoping that it would be enough until you can properly communicate and take the rest from there? Maybe? A whisper at least?" he maundered and offered the cog to me.

I hesitated. It reminded me too much of the time I accidentally almost choked my uncle for breakfast by dropping one in his omelette. I strongly didn't want to be reminded of it, but I didn't want to hurt Joxter's feelings either. I pushed aside my irrational feelings about it and grabbed it anyway. I felt a great lump in my throat as I examined it.

"I knew a chap once who turned invisible," Joxter began, he always knew a 'chap' who did something related to anything, I always wondered where he keeps finding them "It was because he felt very unhappy about his mistreatment and his mother forbidding him to see a good friend was enough to make him wish he could disappear, I don't think I ever saw him after he muttered his story to me like the whistling wind and ran off into a forest."

He cupped his paws over mine which held the cogwheel. "As much as I don't care for worries and do my best to simply live, I want to live with you. I can't bear the thought of never seeing your face again because some storm decided to be especially cruel."

It wasn't some storm.

"I'll try my best to help you as best I can, I'll even take over your duties on this ship if it means you can recollect yourself and have time to recover."

Please, don't force yourself.

"I owe you after every little thing you've done for me,"

No you don't.

"you are wonderful,"

I'm not.

"and I love you."

… I wanted to say 'I love you too' so badly and out of habit. But I also didn't want to. What's wrong with me?

My whole body shook and I knew he felt it as he held my paw, he was extremely puzzled as to what emotion the shaking is conveying.

"Are… are you alright, dear? Do you need to lie down?" He followed the path of my arm up to my shoulder and held it "Goodness, you're shivering! We should get you in the sleeping quarters this instant, you hear?"

I couldn't do anything but agree, I was shaking, I felt a well of awfulness bursting from my stomach, I was tired, afraid, I couldn't handle another terrible thought about how wretched everyone on this boat is, I couldn't handle myself and anyone for that matter, I wanted- no, needed to sleep.

Joxter lifted me up by the paws and guided me to my bed. I sat down on it. I fell sideways on it. I didn't feel the necessity to change my clothes even if I felt disgusting already. I needed my mind to shut up in my unconsciousness and I needed it to do so as soon as possible.

Joxter threw a blanket over me and looked at the inside of my saucepan in an attempt to make eye contact "Do you want me to stay with you?"

No.

I shook my head and waved my hand side to side.

"Alright then… oh, and we can't forget about the saucepan, you're going to wake up with an awful ache if you keep it," Joxter said and slid the pan from my head and placed it on the nearest surface. He looked at the pit on my pillow kindly "Sleep well, Muds."

I nodded, rolled over to face the wall, and slept.

But I didn't sleep well.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

This day in history

#15yrsago Mooncakes shaped like Nokia handsets http://bp2.blogger.com/_ovJS1Em-6dg/RuTJTNgIzGI/AAAAAAAANxE/_q4znhcCJZ8/s1600-h/

#15yrsago Extermiknit: knit your own Dalek https://www.entropyhouse.com/penwiper/who/extermaknit.html

#10yrsago France’s Hadopi finally punishes someone for infringement — a guy whom everyone agrees isn’t an infringer https://torrentfreak.com/french-3-strikes-court-fines-first-file-sharer-even-though-hes-innocent-120813/

#10yrsago William Gibson explains why science fiction writers don’t predict the future https://www.wired.com/2012/09/interview-with-william-gibson/

#5yrsago EFF and ACLU sue Trump administration over warrantless border device searches https://www.eff.org/press/releases/eff-aclu-media-conference-call-today-announce-lawsuit-over-warrantless-phone-and

#5yrsago Pharma giant Allergan pays Mohawk tribe to serve as human shields against patent challenges https://arstechnica.com/tech-policy/2017/09/how-a-native-american-tribe-ended-up-owning-six-key-patents-on-an-eye-drug/

#5yrsago Bipartisan Congress blocks Jeff Sessions’ plan to revive civil asset forfeiture https://theintercept.com/2017/09/12/in-surprise-vote-house-passes-amendment-to-restrict-asset-forfeiture/

#5yrsago Bernie Sanders, Elizabeth Warren, and 15+ key Democratic Senators back Medicare for All https://theintercept.com/2017/09/13/obamacare-over-single-payer-medicare-for-all-bernie-sanders/

[siverwrites]

Nine books I want to read this year tag game (tagged by @laughingpinecone thank you!)

No particular order here and my plans are tenuous at best however:

The Curse of Chalion by Lois McMaster Bujold - a rec from azurefishnets that has sat much longer than I care to admit

A Wizard's Guide to Defensive Baking by T. Kingfisher - looks silly and like it might be fun. I have also had it sitting way too long. I'm not good at ebooking

The Magicians of Caprona by DIana Wynne Jones - I'm currently going through the first four books of the Chronicles of Chrestomanci so this will happen soon.

Witch Week by Diana Wynne Jones - As above.

Reaper Man by Terry Pratchett - Yeah, okay, I've read it I don't know how many times, but look, I got the Collector's Library edition here and obviously I need to break it in.

European Travel for the Monstrous Gentlewoman by Theodora Goss - I enjoyed the first book in this trilogy so onto the next at some point.

Dodger by Terry Pratchett - I've never read it! But sister has it in her kindle library so I can snag it from her so to speak. If I can, you know, remember that I have a kindle app on my tablet.

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen - I don't know if it'll happen but I've never actually read it and feel like that should be fixed

To Say Nothing of the Dog by Connie Willis - Look. Okay. I know. It's another reread. I have no idea how many times I've read it, but I know damn well I will again at some point because I pretty much do annually. Read it. It's so fun. Time travel shenanigans. Victorian shenanigans. Cat. Dog. Mystery. Penwipers

Tagging you if you wanna do this.

[halogencat]

“This is the Victorian era," she said. "Women didn't have to make sense.”

———

“A Grand Design we couldn't see because we were part of it. A Grand Design we only got occasional, fleeting glimpses of. A Grand Design involving the entire course of history and all of time and space that, for some unfathomable reason, chose to work out its designs with cats and croquet mallets and penwipers, to say nothing of the dog. And a hideous piece of Victorian artwork. And us.”

———-

“Come here, cat. You wouldn’t want to destroy the space-time continuum, would you? Meow. Meow.”

― Connie Willis, To Say Nothing of the Dog

[degracieuse]

Penneveger in den vorm van een klok Afbeelding No. 50. Knippatr. keerz. v. h. Supplem., No. IX, fig. 28. Rood en wit laken, een weinig gekleurde koordzijde, karton, een weinig smal zwart fluweelen lint, zwart laken. Deze penneveger in den vorm van eene tafelschel is van rood en wit laken gedeelten vervaardigd, die met den point-russe versierd worden, van binnen wordt er zwarte laken voor het afvegen van de pennen in bevestigd. Fig. 28 geeft het knippatroon voor een zoodanig lakengedeelte. Men knipt dus 3 gedeelten van rood, 3 zoodanige van wit laken, voorziet deze volgens de teekening op fig. 28 met lange kettingsteken van gekleurde zijde (men kan hiervoor overgebleven eindjes zijde nemen), en plakt de lakengedeelten op een stukje karton van gelijken vorm. Dan verbindt men de gedeelten afwisselend een rood en een wit gedeelte, volgens de afbeelding met een kruissteeknaad van zwarte zijde. Men steekt hierbij gedurig door het laken en het karton van elk gedeelte. Volgens de teekening van fig. 28 en ook volgens de afbeelding hecht men er in de rondte het zwarte fluweel op, dat met een gekruisten naad van gele zijde bewerkt wordt, dan van binnen in de klok eene geplooide strook zwart laken van vereischt wordende breedte, aan eene lange zijde uitgetand. De opening van boven aan de klok wordt door een cirkelrond kartonnen gedeelte, met laken overtrokken bedekt, dat met festonneersteken op de klok wordt genaaid, waarbij men tevens een houten handvatsel of een met kralen omwoeld ijzerdraad voor het aanvatten bevestigt.

[theorangedeath]

inktober #21 - a discovery 

[id: a digital “ink” drawing of two people in victorian clothes sitting in a stable. one of them, a woman, is sitting on a hay stack, wiping a pen with a penwiper. there’s a paper on her skirt, and she’s looking slightly confused, raising her eyebrow. the other, a man, looks excited and is waving is arms, saying “a pen wiper!”]