#shell trim it in spring

[caitie-potatie]

I kinda wonder what happens to all the non fur cultists in the colder months. Marnoo is probably busy all of fall trying to make enough scarves and coats for everyone.

Kallamar having one of those mixed hood scarves is a cute idea to me. With lil sleeves for his tentacles.

And a gf to warm him up later (she makes all the blankets for the cult surely she has some spares to bury him in)

[lynxfrost13]

SKYWINGS

PHYSICAL TRAITS

Skywings are the biggest dragon breed due to their great height and additional wingspan. Tall and lanky, these dragons are accustomed to life at high altitudes, with many living in mountainsides and other rock faces. Their wings and claws are built for gripping the rough stone of their homeland. Skywings have an incredibly strong grip that is also very effective when hunting prey.

At the base of the skywing skull is where the main horns grow, with a base growth plate being protected by an upturned part of the skull. From this original plate horn segments will grow off of the base or each other with age. Skywing horns never stop growing until death. Additional facial horns grow in a similar fashion as the skywing matures, with hatchlings displaying bumps where the most prominent horns will come in. With age these dragons tend to grow more elaborate scale patterns and horns, with chin spikes/ridges, eyebrow, and cheek ridges being the most common.

As hatchlings, skywings have no underbelly scales, and the scales they do possess on their backs are incredibly soft and flexible. Hatchlings break out of their well protected shells with an egg tooth that falls off a few days after they break free, and it’s typical for heavier facial ridges to develop where the egg tooth was. Skywing hatchlings cannot produce fire of any sort until they reach a few years of age, around when their scales harden and fill in the underbelly area (roughly 3-4 years).

The fire produced by skywings is the hottest of any dragon breed, which could cause serious damage to any dragon’s body due to the heat. To combat this, skywings evolved to have cooling vents on their necks. Several flexible scale plates can open up along each side as the dragon breathes fire, allowing for excess heat and pressure to escape without harming the dragon. To help cool their mouths, skywings also have two additional sets of “nostrils” that serve the same purpose. Despite the common misconception, skywings cannot smell from these sets of nostrils, and their overall sense of smell is average.

CUSTOMS

Skywings have a huge culture around the upkeep of their horns, since they never stop growing they do need maintenance. What began as simple horn trimming ages ago grew into much more. Skywings style their horns in various different ways, and trends in style pop up here and there. Horn painting and carving is common, but there are a wide variety of modifications that skywings apply to them as well. Jewelry is popular, but draping horn jewelry tends to be avoided since it can be a hassle in the air. Overall jewelry and body decoration is incredibly popular, with skywings using light metals, beads, and fabrics in everyday wear.

Skywing cities are situated in cliff faces or mountainsides. These cities hold huge terraced gardens, ensuring that their citizens have a local spot to gather food. It’s also common for most skywing homes to have their own personal gardens, whether decorative or for additional food. These cities tend to have few walls, they’re not needed due to natural protections such as the altitude and surrounding mountains. The Sky Palace was the only city to be heavily fortified under Queen Scarlet, while the rest remained as they were. The openness of skywing cities has also made the ones along the borders into large trading hubs with lots of intermingling.

Skywings refuse to eat birds of prey out of a deep respect for them, as well as a belief that when a skywing dies, the part of them that remains on earth becomes one of those birds. To honor their memory, skywings hold an annual weeklong celebration in the spring, celebrating the births of new hatchlings (both dragon and avian) where they compete in racing games and the like. Their love of festivities has led to them adopting from mudwing culture, and in recent years they have even begun to adopt their own version of the bard, which is more focused on the storytelling aspect rather than the history.

[kays-catch-of-the-day]

Good morning yall! Hope you're ready for a new fish today cuz we got an all timer here today!

Today's fish is none other than my personal favorite fish, the Brook Trout (salvelinus fontinalis)! These beauties are native to Eastern North America, in both Canada and the United States, ranging from Lake Superior, to the coastal waterways from the Hudson Bay to Long Island, though they have spread far beyond their native ranges, mostly via aquacultural practices and artificial propagation, making them invasive species in many regions of North America and the world at large!

Two ecological forms of Brook Trout have been recognized by the US Forest Service, the longer-living potamodromous (fish whose migration occurs fully within fresh water) population, known as coasters , and the anadromous (fish whose migration occurs from fresh water to salt water) population, known as salters. Adult coasters typically reach lengths over 2 feet in length and weigh up to 15lbs, compared to adult salters, which average between 6 to 15 inches and about 5lbs. They're characterized by their vibrant coloration, with olive green bodies and spectacular yellow and blue rimmed red spots, white and black trimming along their orange fins, and dense, irregular lines along the top of their bodies. Often, the bellies of male Brook Trout becomes bright red or orange when spawning.

During the spawning season, female Brook Trout will construct a depression in the stream bed, referred to as a "redd", where groundwater percolates upward through the gravel. Male Brook Trout will approach the female, fertilizing the eggs. The eggs are only slightly denser than water, and can easily be swept away by the current. To avoid this, the female will bury the eggs in a small gravel mound, from which they hatch 4 to 6 weeks later. During this incubation period, the eggs receive oxygen from the streamwater that passes through the gravel beds and into their gelatinous shells. Once they hatch into small fry fish that retain their yolk sack for nutrients, which compensates for the lack of nutrients provided by the parents during the early stages of development. Following the consumption of the yolk, the fry Brook Trout will shelter from predatory species in rocky crevices and inlets, growing from fry to fingerlings, until reaching full maturation at the ripe old age of 6 months.

Despite their native range spanning across low-elevation lakes and watersheds, Brook Trout are increasingly confined to higher elevations in the Appalachian Mountains, especially in southern regions of Appalachia. Over seas, however, Brook Trout have thrived in introduced populations in much of Europe, Argentina, and New Zealand since as early as the 1850's! Their typical habitats include large and small lakes, rivers, creeks, and spring ponds in cold temperate climates. They thrive in clear spring water with moderate flow rates and healthy vegetation populations and other resources which provide natural hiding places. Although they are more resilient and adaptable to varying environmental changes, such as pH levels and temperatures, Brook Trout struggle in temperatures warmer than 72 degrees Fahrenheit. Their diets include aquatic insects at all stages of life, adult terrestrial insects such as grasshoppers and crickets, crustaceans and frogs, molluscs, invertebrates, smaller fish, and even small aquatic mammals such as voles, and even other young Brook Trout! This highly indiscriminate diet and environmental resiliency allows for their success across the globe.

Given all of this, Brook Trout are classified as a Secure by NatureServe's conservation metrics, but that label may be misleading; these incredible fish face severe and repeated extirpation (localized extinction) in many of their native habitats due to habitat destruction, pollution, damming, and invasive species. Meanwhile, Brook Trout present the danger of extirpation to other fish in their nonnative habitats, indicating that efforts must be taken to curb these populations. In short, there are more than enough Brook Trout, but they simply are not where they are meant to be.

A true fish out of (the specifically correct body of) water, the Brook Trout scores within the top percentile of all fishies on our highly advanced fish ranking scale.

[nizhspo]

saltwater secrets

chapter thirteen: the big blue

genre: haikyuu fic, slow burn

pairing: tooru oikawa x reader

links: m.list, next

you walk.

barefoot, warm, giggling at nothing.

you pick a flower from someone’s front yard and spin it between your fingers like it’s a secret. it smells like nothing. it feels like everything.

the streets are still pulsing with the energy of what just happened, sirens somewhere in the distance, blue lights still bouncing faintly off houses as you wind farther into the quiet.

“i can’t believe we ran,” you say, a little breathless.

oikawa huffs out a laugh. “you would’ve gotten caught if you stayed.”

you groan, still breathless. “my parents would’ve killed me.”

then you pause. straighten slightly.

“wait. my parents. oh my god.”

you look at him, eyes wide. “bokuto has my phone.”

he raises a brow.

“he probably thinks I got arrested. or drowned. or—oh my god, he’s so gonna tell my parents.”

oikawa blinks. “can’t you just… text him?”

you stare at him like he’s stupid.

“i don’t have my phone.”

“oh.” he shrugs, already pulling his from his pocket, flipping open the screen. “i’ll just text him then.”

you blink. “you have bokuto’s number?”

“yeah. we played together at some middle school county thing once. i think he gave it to me because we were arguing about who had the better serve.”

you gape at him. “you kept it?”

he’s already typing.

“he’s annoying,” oikawa says, “but effective.”

you watch the little green glow from his screen flash across his face.

“what are you even gonna say?” you ask warily.

he smirks. “that you’re alive. and you’re with me. and he can calm the hell down.”

“oh god.”

“you’re welcome.”

you shove him, but continue your trek through side-yards and side-walk. you laugh alot. loud. he shushes you, but it’s not serious.

it’s warm. the kind of soft, still spring heat that clings to your skin and makes your cheeks feel flushed. you’re still tipsy. drunk enough to be happy, but not so drunk you don’t notice when the houses start getting… big.

like, big big.

driveways the width of basketball courts. three-car garages. backyard pools glinting blue even in the dark. you pass one with fountains. another with a second-floor balcony the size of your room.

you blink up at one house, jaw dropping. “what the hell.”

oikawa says nothing.

you keep walking.

he turns down a side gate, nudging it open quietly with one hand. the fence is whitewashed, the hinges don’t squeak, and the stone pathway behind it leads to a backyard that doesn’t feel real.

you pause at the entrance. “isn’t this—wait, are we trespassing?”

he doesn’t look back. “this is my house.”

your feet stop moving. “wait. this is your house?”

he glances over his shoulder. “keep your voice down.”

“but—like—this is your house?” you hiss, voice low but borderline panicked as your eyes dart around the yard. you gesture wildly: at the front steps, the massive archway, the stone walkway like a damn runway. “you mean this house? with the giant windows and the million-dollar landscaping and the backyard that looks like a fucking resort?”

he just smirks, “yeah. that one.”

you stand there, blinking at the fairy lights strung across the backyard, the pool shimmering under them, the perfectly trimmed hedges and expensive-looking patio chairs, the way everything looks like it was pulled straight out of a catalogue.

“when you said you had a place,” you mumble, “i didn’t think you meant your house.”

“well,” he says, slipping his shirt over his head, “surprise.”

he tosses it onto one of the lounge chairs. walks over to the pool. dips a toe. then steps in slowly, until he’s shoulder-deep.

the water makes his skin glow.

you stay planted on the deck, arms crossed.

“you getting in?” he calls.

“nope.”

“then what’s the bikini for?”

“decoration.”

he laughs. soft, boyish. not mocking.

just amused.

you spot one of those giant circular chairs in the corner of the patio, the kind with the canopy overhead, big and cushioned like a fancy half-shell. you crawl into it without asking. curl up in the corner like it belongs to you.

he watches you for a second, head tilted.

then—he doesn’t get out. just turns, dips under the water again. starts doing lazy laps, smooth strokes through the glowing blue, pushing off each side like he’s forgotten you’re there.

but you don’t forget he’s there.

you let your eyes follow him, barely. lids heavy. arms tucked beneath your head.

you’re not really awake, not really asleep, just hovering in that warm, blurry space in between.

the water glows around him. his hair is slicked back, body clean lines and soft flexes, and you hate how beautiful he looks.

then, eventually, he glides to the edge and climbs out, slowly, water trailing down his skin in thin rivulets, catching at the curve of his shoulders.

you don’t mean to look, but— okay, maybe you do.

he disappears into a small side shed and returns with a towel. rubs it over his hair, shrugs it across his shoulders, then says, “be right back,” and heads inside.

you don’t move. you’re too warm. too sleepy. too far gone. you let yourself sink into the cushions, your eyes half-lidded as the crickets lull you to sleep.

he comes back with a blanket, a water bottle, and a bowl of cereal.

you groan. “you’re invading my space.”

“i brought offerings.”

“…fine.”

you shift slightly. he slips in beside you.

you’re still curled in a corner, and now he’s in your corner too.

the blanket ends up around both your shoulders. the cereal crunches softly in his mouth. the water sits untouched on the small table beside you.

everything smells like chlorine and clean laundry. you’re not talking. not touching.

just breathing.

drunk and safe and slightly tangled in the stillness.

your eyes are almost closed.

the night’s so quiet now. just the slow lap of pool water, the rustle of trees, the distant whir of a filter kicking on. oikawa’s beside you, legs outstretched, arms loose, breath even. the blanket is warm. your body’s still buzzing, but the edges are starting to dull.

you let your eyes shut fully.

drift.

breathe.

and then— the sliding door opens.

your heart jumps, but you don’t move. you keep your eyes closed. breathing steady. too tired to sit up. too vulnerable to look.

then, “tooru,” a girl’s voice says. young. loud. annoyed. “isn’t this, like, the second girl this month?”

your stomach knots. your breath catches in your throat. you don’t move.

“seriously,” she goes on, “didn’t mom tell you to stop, like, hooking up in the house? i swear to god, i’m telling her.”

you hear oikawa shift beside you. not fast. but sharp. tight.

his voice is low. tight. “she’s a friend.”

“mhm.”

“we’re not doing anything. she’s sleeping.”

“whatever,” his sister mutters. “you’re gross.”

the door slides shut, and the sound echoes louder than it should.

oikawa doesn’t say anything. you don’t either. you pretend to keep sleeping. you stay curled up beside him, still trying to un-hear what you just heard.

but it’s too late. you heard everything.

and even though you don’t move, you feel it right in the center of your chest.

[starsandink13]

Arriving at the Mansion by the Sea

Link to original drabble here

Link to the imagines here

---

It was an early spring when you first arrived. The sky was a vivid pastel blue and clear with only a few clouds as fluffy and white as seafoam lazily drifting by. However, the air was crisp and chilly as a leftover from the remnants of winter, the tall grasses swaying in the breeze, shimmering like a sea of emerald. Nervousness pounded in your heart, your knuckles growing taut as you gripped your briefcase harder like it was your shield against the world. A lump formed in your throat but you swallowed it down, trying to ignore the beads of cold sweat crawling down your back.

So, you stopped for a moment to close your eyes and take a few breaths to try and steady your rattling nerves. Although ideally you would have never taken the job to start, you weren't given much in terms of options. Especially not when what's left of your savings are slowly dwindling into nothing. The gravel below your shoes crunched like broken and forgotten shells, winding up towards the estate ahead like a beige river. Slowly raising your hand above your brow, you squinted your eyes to see the sprawling estate and your new place of work,.

In all honesty, it looked more like the grand temple of some ancient god than manor; with tall and elegant mighty columns supported the roof's weight with tendrils of ivy sensuously wrapped around its length. The home was sprawling and wide, and you could just imagine the various labyrinthine hallways and rooms inside. The plethora of rooms inside it, each one as extravagant as the other. Large, softly arched windows line the walls to let in the daylight and framed by diaphanous curtains. As you neared the front doors, you noticed a marble fountain of a merman draped in garland of pearls and languishing on a half-shell in front of you. You stopped for a moment to appreciate the detail put into it, watching how water bubbled out of the vase by his side and spilling out in a steady stream, catching the sunlight and casting a fractured rainbow. They must be wealthier than I thought... You gulped, straightening your back and marched to the front steps. A brass pair of seashell-shaped knockers glinted, reflecting your nervous countenance back at you. Taking in a deep breath, you closed your eyes for a moment and raised your hand. You quietly knocked thrice on the door and took a step back, your heart thrumming against your throat.

For an awful moment, it was deathly quiet. Dread seeped into your heart, and you looked back at the path behind, fearing that maybe you may have gotten the wrong address, or it was a false posting or--

Slowly, the door creaked open.

You startled and turned your head around to see a tall, thin maid standing in the doorway. She is clearly a few decades older than you and carried with her an air as though she herself is of aristocratic blood. Her gray hair was pinned into an austere chignon and there was a certain poise to her stance; even the starched white of her apron seemed to be regalia from how she wore it.

"You must be (Y/N) (L/N), correct?" She asked with a regal lilt in her voice, looking you up and down.

"Yes," you politely nodded and straightened out your back more. "Pleasure to meet your acquaintance. And you are Miss Adrienne, right?" The woman gave a slight nod of her head. "Yes, come on in. I'll show you to your room and get you settled in." So, you followed after her. Your footsteps reverberate throughout the room; the white marble floors were immaculately polished with not so much a speck of dust to be found, and seemed more like an elongated mirror with how clearly you can see your reflection in. The walls were sea-white and decorated with not only seascapes, but also a variety of portraits of previous members of the family. Their forms lavishly draped in sparkling jewels, lavish brocades, gleaming golds, and luxurious lace trims that proudly showcased their wealth and station in society that they held on throughout the years. Each detail was immaculate and carefully crafted, that even though they were oil and canvas, your fingers ached with the urge to reach out and feel the fine materials of their clothes-- to know a taste of luxury for even a fleeting moment. "As you can see, this mansion is rather old. Centuries-old." Adrienne's voice broke your stupor. "We try to keep it to the best state as possible, but we still hear the odd noise or smell. Just something to keep in mind." You gave a slight nod of your head. "Of course. How old is it exactly?"

"Around three-hundred years." "That is quite old." You said. "And it's in such a pristine condition as well." "As servants of this estate, we take pride in that."

"It certainly pays off, it's such a beautiful home." You gave her a sheepish smile. "It almost looks like a temple."

"I'm glad to hear that," she smiled lightly in return, her eyes sparkled a bit with pride before she led you down a hall. "Now, here are the servants quarters. You can take the room right over there." She pointed to the first one on your left.

You nodded and entered. It was a fairly comfortable, albeit plain, room. A small but cozy-looking bed pushed beside a window, a writing table, and even a modest wardrobe. On the floor was a single sky-blue rug and a painting of a beach at eventide as the decorations to liven the room up. "You may include your own little trinkets and furniture that you have brought along to make it your room if you'd like." Adrienne said behind you.

"Oh thank you," you nodded politely, settling your briefcase down on the bed. "Now then, you're free to wander around if you'd like." Her polite smile collapsed into a more serious expression. "But, do not open any doors that are locked; they're locked for a reason."

"Of course," you answered with another nod. Despite your nonchalant answer, a spark of intrigue flashed in your heart.

"Good. Now I'll leave you be." She said, slowly closing the door behind you.

You took a moment to unpack a few of your things, placing them in the wardrobe and its drawers and let out a slight huff as they closed with a satisfying sound.

Your eyes gazed over to the small scratches on the floor. Could they be nail marks?

No, don't be ridiculous. You lightly slapped your forehead. Those were probably from previous servants when they had to drag in whatever heavy objects or dropped something. There's a perfectly mundane explanation to this.

Although, now that you looked at it... some of them did look a little deep...

Again, it's nothing to worry about. Those are just silly rumors. You reassured, shaking your head to banish any more thoughts of missing people as though it was an especially strong cloud of incense.

---

After getting your things in place, you decided to walk down to the beach behind the state. You figured you may as well enjoy some of the daylight before eventide crawled up.

Your feet sank slightly into the white sands, the breeze carrying the salty tang of the waters and rustled your hair. The crystalline waters were a brilliant greenish-blue and clear; gentle waves rose up and slid across the sands before retreating. You caught sight of a colorless figure in the distance sitting on a boulder. The rumors about the estate flickered through your mind. Could that be what is possibly lurking and haunting the mansion?

Your body became numb as you stayed in place, your heart slamming against your ribcage. The whispers you've heard coursed through your brain as your skin prickled and your organs became heavy with dread. The air felt stiff as you stared at the figu-- It then flinched and turned around.

To your relief, it was no specter nor demon; but instead, a young man maybe no older than you by a few years... ...And one that was incredibly beautiful as well.

Soft and flowing locks of moonlight-white hair surrounded an equally pale face, seemingly blending into his diaphanous clothes. Though his jawline was sharp and defined like a crystal shard, his lips and cheeks were soft and full. The arch of his cheekbones and brow were highlighted lovingly in the sunlight, giving him an almost angelic air and gave his skin an almost pearlescent sheen to it. But most striking of all, and contrasting against the whiteness of his complexion were his eyes. They were wide and gentle that belonged to the tragic ingenue of a theater play, speaking of deep and welling emotions without the single utterance of a word, and as sparkling and a brilliant shade of blue-green just like the waters to his left. You felt yourself being pulled into them; captivated by their beauty like you were staring into the eyes of an abandoned divinity. He smiled politely at you. "You must be the new maid, correct?" His voice was soft and smooth, yet also a controlled baritone; a perfect blend between gentle and strong.

You gave him a short nod. "Indeed I am."

He stared at you for a moment as if in a trance before shaking his head and smiling. "Ah, I apologize about that. My name is Caspian, and it is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance. Has Miss Adrienne showed you your quarters?"

"Already has."

"Okay, excellent." He said more to himself. "Anyways, (Y/N). Do you mind telling me what brings you here?"

"To the estate?"

To that, he let out a silvery chuckle. "No, I meant the beach."

"I figured that it's already a lovely day, I may as well try to enjoy it a bit." You simply answered.

Caspian gave a slight nod in agreement. "Indeed it is. And do you mind telling me a little bit about yourself? You must have heard about my family in passing, yes?"

"I did hear their name once or twice before." You responded. "But there was always in a hushed tone and revolved around the estate."

His smile drooped a little. "Yes, there are rumors about them. But as far as anyone knows, it is just that and nothing else. There's no substantial evidence to prove or disprove anything."

You knew what he was talking about. Stories of missing people, stories of some vaguely described curse, stories of something haunting the estate. But as far as anyone really knew, that's all they were: stories. "Indeed. Unless something actually points to them being real, it's all just empty air." You agreed, not out of conviction but to give the right impression. "But yet, people love to talk and whisper and conspire." He sighed, running a hand through his pearl-white locks. "Especially with things that they have no business in."

"Human nature, I suppose." You chuckled nervously. "Indeed it is," he smiled thinly before turning back to the rolling waves. "Care to sit here for a while?"

"I don't see why not," you gave a small shrug before carefully climbing next to him on the boulder. "Have you been to the shore before?" Caspian asked.

"Once. When I was really young." You responded. "I can barely remember it. It's all hazy; all I remember clearly is accidentally swallowing a mouthful of seawater."

He huffed in amusement; a slight smile twitched on his face.

"And also a shark."

"A shark?" He tilted his head towards you, intrigued. "It was already dead when it washed up on shore, so at worst I got was a bad scare." You answered.

"Did that give you a fear of the water?"

"Not really, more so a cautiousness towards it. Even with waters this clear, you don't really know what's lurking within."

"That can be applied to a great number of things as well." He elegantly brushed a fluttering lock behind his ear, his lips twitching into a playful smirk. "Can't be too sure." "Miss Adriene said that some of the doors in the estate are locked..."

"Oh yes, those rooms are rather old and not exactly safe to be wandering into. So, we had them locked up for everyone's safety." He answered. "Best not to enter them unless given permission to do so."

Caspian then turned towards the ocean once more; his eyes softened and grew distant as though he was reminiscing about something from long ago. You stood there awkwardly, shifting your weight from your right leg to the left one while you scratched your upper arm, unsure whether or not to pull him out of his thoughts.

With that, he flinched a little as if just remembering something. "Oh I'm sorry, I was lost in my thoughts. Where was I again? Ah yes, what is it that you like to do in your free time?"

You hummed a bit, drawing your eyebrows together. "Truth be told, I haven't really found the time or energy to partake in any leisurely affairs..." You sighed. "But when I do, it's just walking around or reading the few books I own for the umpteenth time."

"Do you have any particular places you like to walk by?" He stretched out one leg down the boulder, leaning a bit towards you.

"Not really," you shook your head.

"Well, I hope you find the gardens or the beach to be a pleasant place to stroll through." He said. "Especially during this time of year where it's neither too hot nor too cold."

"Well, I'm liking the shores so far." You giggled a bit nervously. "So far? You make it sound as if it's a potential suitor." He responded, eyes crinkling a bit at his own joke.

"Huh?"

His cheeks flushed a vivid scarlet. "Oh, did that come out wrong? I'm sorry, it's been a while since... since I made any kind of talk with women around my age. I've been a bit busy with all sorts of things regarding the estate, you know." He sputtered out with a tight voice and looked away from you.

"Oh no, I was just caught a little off-guard." You assured him.

To that, his shoulders slumped a little in relief. "Alright then, I just want to make sure I didn't make you uncomfortable..." He isn't anything I'd expect from an aristocratic family... You noted, and so, you gave a short smile. Maybe this won't be as bad as you thought. But yet... There was still that lingering twist in your stomach.

[chic-a-gigot]

L'Art et la mode, no. 18, vol. 17, 2 mai 1896, Paris. Robe “Printemps”, en linon de fil écru, garnie de guipure et dentelle jaunies. Ceinture en velours gros vert. Jupe en linon, garnie d’entredeux de dentelle. “Chapeau en paille or et coques de tulle écru”. — Création d'Adolphe, 15, boulevard des Italiens. Bibliothèque nationale de France

“Spring” dress, in ecru linen, trimmed with yellowed guipure and lace. Belt in coarse green velvet. Skirt in linen, trimmed with lace inserts. “Gold straw hat and ecru tulle shells.”

[blurredcolour]

I Wish You Love | Part Four

I Wish You Love Masterlist

Lewis Nixon x Housemaid!Female Reader

The end of the war feels so near and yet still so far off. Questions of the future and feelings of impatience plague you and Lewis equally.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Angst, Class Divide, Infidelity, Dishonesty, Lots of Kissing, Sexual Tension and Innuendos, Language, Smoking, Alcohol Consumption, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Mature/Explicit Themes - 18+ ONLY.

Author's Note: Surprise (as in no surprise whatsoever), this is not the final part of this series. There is one more part, because Bee does not know how to be brief. Reader's nationality is British and liberties have been taken in describing her background and family life for the sake of plot. No physical descriptions or y/n used. A good portion of this fic will be letter-based. This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the HBO series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Word Count: 4378

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

Perhaps it was the English in you, but no matter how deliriously giddy you felt at the hopeful tone of Captain Nixon’s reply, you still found it necessary to make things absolutely clear. To add a strong dose of realism and seek confirmation of things in concrete terms. Settling in at the kitchen table once dinner had been cleaned up after and your father was properly ensconced in his favourite chair, listening to the wireless, you pulled out your writing supplies and took a direct approach.

Lewis, in all his Americanness, was having none of it. His response arrived promptly, two weeks later.

Four long months passed. Eight more letters crossed the Channel, four apiece. Spring blossomed before wilting into heat of summer. Germany surrendered. The Japanese held on until mid-August. You managed to assemble an untold number of shells without injury, though the skin of your face and hands as well as the halo of hair around your face became tinged as yellow as your fellow canary girls.

Word came from Austria that Johnny was on his way home, after six long years away. The universe works in mysterious ways, leading both of the men you cared for most in all the world to Austria to manage the occupation after Germany’s surrender. Lewis had kept you up to date on the dissolution of his marriage – the loss of his treasured dog Edgar, as well as his house, and custody of his son. You did your best to remain reassuring and supportive in your letters, reminding him of the untold potential of your future together.

Your immediate future, however, was somewhat more precarious. With so many men returning home from the war, employment was in high demand and the expectation was for women to return to the roles they had occupied before 1939 – where they ‘belonged.’ You were grateful you had lived well within your means, accumulating sufficient savings to see you through the end of your job at the factory in July and the seemingly endless search for new work since. With the effects of TNT still tainting your appearance, work in a shop was out of the question – such establishments immediately turning their noses up at you.

You had picked up a few clients as a charwoman, but unless you found many more, and quick, things were going to become very difficult indeed. Making your way home one midday at the end of August, you smoothed a hand over your hair, feeling positively overheated and unkempt after a particularly demanding morning scrubbing Mr. and Mrs. Danes house. As you rounded the corner of the lane you’d lived on most of your life, your feet stuttered to a stop at sight of the figure leaning against the front of the building of flats, sharing a cigarette with your father.

Neither of them had spotted you yet, and you swallowed roughly as your eyes drank in the dashing appearance of Captain Lewis Nixon in his dress uniform, sporting the short cut Eisenhower jacket that showed off his trim waist and long legs. You could not have felt more drab in your worn work dress, wishing desperately you could dash inside and freshen up but there was nothing for it now as he had lifted his eyes. You could see his smile from half a block away as he began striding towards you confidently, flicking his cigarette into the street as he rapidly closed the distance.

With small, hopefully furtive, movements you did your best to tidy your hair and the fall of your dress against your body.

“Darling.” Lewis smiled warmly, capturing your hands, ceasing your fretting as his long fingers enveloped yours. His eyes raked over your face with an expression that carried nothing but wonder.

If you had felt warm before, hearing the term of endearment he’d begun to use in his letters fall from his lips was akin to walking on the surface of the sun. “Lewis.” You breathed shakily, swallowing tightly at the brilliant grin he bestowed upon you in response as his hands squeezed yours tightly.

“Christ, you are a wonder to behold.” He murmured stepping closer and you raised an eyebrow skeptically as you very much felt otherwise. “No, I insist.” One broad hand slid to your waist, your heart racing as you found your own feet shuffling closer, your tongue darted out to wet your lips nervously. His eyes dropped to focus on your mouth a moment before his adam’s apple bobbed rapidly. “I’m going to kiss you now.” He warned you softly, gripping your waist with both hands now as he pulled you closer still.

The most you could manage in response was a rapid nod before his mouth was upon yours, lips gentle at first, moving slowly before they became insistent and eager. Fingers gripping at his biceps, curling into the fabric of his jacket, you tilted your head back in surrender, mouth pliant beneath his. He tasted of tobacco, smelled of his intoxicating aftershave and something that was uniquely Lewis. You could only hope there was something to recommend you in that moment and were heartened as he pulled you somehow even tighter to him, eliminating the last millimetres of space between your bodies.

Lewis’s lips pulled back from yours slowly, allowing you to suck in a shuddering breath as he pressed his face to your hair, an action he’d often described in his letters, realized at last. “Darling…” He whispered once more, tenderly, and you slid your arms around his shoulders to hold him fully.

“Welcome back, Lewis.” You sighed, finally allowing relief to wash over you.

“Thank you.” His lips brushed against your temple before he straightened slowly, fingers tracing along your jaw tenderly. “Your father tells me you should have some time to spend with me this afternoon?”

You tried not to frown at the reminder of all the free time you had on your hands, the economic implications thereof, and nodded gently. “I would like that very much, but whether you admit it or not I look a fright. Please let me change and freshen up?”

“You’re right, I’ll never admit it, because it’ll never be true.” He smirked and stole one last kiss before tucking your arm into his, leading you back towards your flat.

You noted your father had retreated inside to give you some privacy – as much privacy as one could be afforded in the middle of the street, of course, but you appreciated the thought, nonetheless. You stopped on the threshold and turned to Lewis quickly. “It’s no Lydiard House, I warn you.”

“Thank god.” He smiled reassuringly, hand settling on your lower back, a flock of butterflies fluttering erratically in your abdomen as you led him inside your humble home where you father was happily reading the newspaper.

“Will you two be all right if I take a moment to change?” You asked your father and he smirked.

“We’ve been alright for the past two hours, sweet pea, off you pop.” He shooed you towards the bedroom where your meagre wardrobe was stored and you glanced at Lewis, startled to learn he’d been waiting for you that long.

“Take your time.” He nodded, settling onto the worn sofa easily.

The world seemed quite off-kilter for a moment, Lewis occupying a space so separate from that in which you had known him, and yet how many hours had you spent thinking of him while sitting on that very sofa? Smiling slowly as everything seemed to slide into its new place of belonging, you stepped into the bedroom to pull one of your nicer dresses from the closet you shared with your father. Taking it to the bathroom, you freshened up and tamed your hair, feeling much better armed to face to world as you emerged, stowing your work clothes into the hamper before you rejoined them in the sitting room.

Lewis immediately rose to his feet on your return, a shy smile tugging at your lips fondly as your father looked up from his paper.

“I do hope the pair of you are going to spend your afternoon out in the sunshine and not in here with this old bore.” His eyes twinkled in amusement. “And don’t even bother telling me you’ll be home for dinner, I’m perfectly capable of eating at the pub.”

You closed your mouth quickly, your father killing that thought before you could voice it. Grabbing your handbag, you looked up as Lewis spoke.

“I was hoping to take both of you out to dinner tomorrow night, sir?” He offered hopefully.

“That would be very generous of you, thank you. Now, on your bike.” Your father snapped his paper back into place to hide his growing grin and Lewis laced your fingers together before leading you outside, sliding his garrison cap back onto his luscious hair.

“How did you manage to get over here? I thought they were shipping you back to New York?” You asked as you closed the door behind you.

“I have a few days and then the boat leaves from Marseille. I couldn’t leave before seeing you.”

You watched as he lifted your hands to press his lips to your knuckles gently. “Thank you.” You breathed softly and he looked to you tenderly.

“I’m the one with the debt of gratitude. Will you allow me some leeway to begin repaying you for all your kindness?” The way his warm brown eyes were boring into yours, framed by his long lashes, was threatening to make your knees knock together.

Taking a steadying breath, you shook your head firmly. “You say that like you have not somehow become the centre of my entire world, Lewis.” You countered weakly. “I don’t know where I’d be if you hadn’t forgiven me…”

He gently pressed a finger to your lips, shifting to whisper into your ear. “Then let me spoil you simply because I love you.”

His breath against your skin made you shiver before the meaning of his words registered and you pulled back to look at him, eyes wide. “Lewis…” Your gaze skittered across his face, drinking in the hopeful glint in his eyes, the way he held his breath awaiting your response, before you hesitantly leaned forward to brush your lips against his. “I love you too.” You barely had time to exhale before he cupped your cheek to kiss you deeply.

Pulled back to bestow a warm grin on you, he squeezed your hand softly. “Allow me to lead you to the car before I give you a reputation on your street.”

With a breathless laugh you nodded, following him over to the civilian vehicle that you had no idea from where he’d procured, sliding into the passenger’s seat on the lefthand side. “You’re a very mysterious man, Lewis Nixon.” You shook your head as he climbed in beside you, driving off easily.

“I hope not, or I intend not to be. I don’t like keeping secrets from you, darling. I much prefer being completely open and honest with you.”

You smiled fondly as your heart throbbed in your chest. “Where are we going, then?”

“Your father allowed me to check the pictures playing at your local cinema and it seems there is an afternoon showing of the Wizard of Oz – I thought you might enjoy that?” He glanced over at you, smiling when you nodded quickly. “Then some window-shopping and dinner?”

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously at the second activity, but dinner certainly sounded lovely. “That sounds like a wonderful day.”

“Good.” He nodded, navigating his way through the narrow streets until he found the cinema and a parking spot.

The pair of you arrived just in time to purchase a few snacks and settle into the half-empty theatre. Mid-afternoon was not a very popular time on a weekday, after all.

“I haven’t been to see a film in years.” You whispered as he lifted the armrest to snake his arm around your waist and pull you close, making you bite your lip.

“Me neither.” He admitted, resting his fingers against your hip softly as the picture started.

You knew you shouldn’t let him hold you so close, particularly not in such a public place, and yet it was dark in the theatre and in all honestly you probably could not have born any distance between you, needing him as near as possible after so long apart. After falling so deeply in love with him. It did, however, make it awfully difficult to focus on the film. Your eyes continued to flick between the screen and his profile, inhaling deeply, enjoying the press of him along your side despite the added warmth of his body heat.

Somehow you did manage to remember to pay attention to the scene where Dorothy’s home landed after the twister, gnawing your lip in anticipation as she made her way to the front door and inhaling in wonder as the colourful land of Oz lay on the other side. The transition held just as much magic as it had the only other time you’d seen the film, a grin unfurling on your face as she wandered through the quaint village, passed the pond filled with lotus leaves. As your eyes inevitably shifted to sneak a look at Lewis you jumped slightly as they met his own directly, already watching you intently with a fond smile on his face.

Wordlessly he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips before turning back to the screen with a very pleased expression on his face. Sharing your treats, you enjoyed the film together in companionable silence, not a hairsbreadth of space between you, until the lights came up.

“That was even better than the first time I saw it thank you, Lewis.”

“I’m very glad, you’re welcome.” He grinned, pressing a kiss to your temple before you shuffled out with the rest of the crowd.

The brilliant sunshine of midday had since been replaced by heavy clouds, rain threatening as Lewis took your hand and led you across the street to a rather upscale department store – one that you certainly had never shopped at before.

“Lewis, I didn’t bring my ration book…” You murmured nervously as he held the door open for you.

“Not to worry, we’re only window-shopping, not a shilling will be spent.” He winked, taking your arm once you were both inside and leading you around, getting your opinions on all sorts of things. Men’s clothing, women’s, toys, trinkets, before leading you over to the jewelry counters.

“Good lord…” You breathed at some of the more ostentatious engagement rings they had on display with massive diamonds.

Lewis smirked at you as he leaned against the case. “A bit much for your taste, darling?”

“Entirely too much.” You nodded firmly. “I don’t know how a woman could accomplish anything with a ring that size on her finger.”

“I suppose she wouldn’t be expected to, but that sort of life doesn’t really seem your speed does it.”

Looking to him slowly as this conversation took on a rather layered meaning, you shook your head. “No, I don’t think it would. Even if I did not need an income, I would most definitely need a purpose.”

“Noted.” He replied with a nod before moving towards a more modest selection. “Are these a little more to your liking then?”

Swallowing dryly you gave him a slow nod. “They are quite nice, yes.” You nodded, feeling suddenly rather nervous. Not in a bad way, but your heart most certainly could not remember how to beat properly despite you trying to remind yourself that it was only ‘window-shopping.’

Sensing your distress, Lewis led you over to inspect the necklaces, your tension easing without rows of engagement rings on display in front of you. After sampling a few perfumes, he smiled to you. “Ready for dinner?”

“Are you certain you didn’t need to make any sort of purchases?”

“That would be against the premise of window-shopping darling, was there anything you needed though?” He raised an eyebrow, and you shook your head, glancing back toward the store before turning to him.

“I’m fine, thank you.” You replied stubbornly and he squeezed your hand, the pair of your heading back outside as thunder rumbled long and low along the darkening street.

“I hope we can make it back to car.” He glanced at you quickly and you both immediately started hurrying your steps.

The skies opened up then and you quickly darted beneath the awning of a small shop that seemed to be closed for the day, yanking Lewis beneath its shelter as sheets of rain began to come down.

“Damn…” He laughed, shaking his head as you giggled softly in reply.

“Shouldn’t last long, doesn’t usually when summer storms pop up like this.” A brilliant flash of lightning cut through the gloom making you flinch and step closer to him, the resulting thunder startling you in turn.

“I’ve got you darling, nothing to worry about.” He slid his arm around your waist, pulling you into his chest comfortingly as the rain fell so hard it rebounded off the pavement, practically obscuring the world outside your tiny dry square of shelter.

Reaching out to caress his cheek gratefully, his lips met yours halfway, seemingly unable to resist one another after so many months of denial. Lewis’s hand splayed across your lower back, moulding you to him as his tongue swept into your mouth, drawing a reflexive whimper from your throat. Giving in to impulse, you allowed your fingers to slide into the dark locks of his hair beneath his cap as his tongue dragged along yours, making it awfully difficult to keep on your feet.

The sound of the rain and intermittent crashes of thunder faded away into the background, all your focus drawn onto the man in your arms and your stolen moment amidst the chaos around you. Time became irrelevant as all sensation narrowed to his excruciatingly thorough kiss and the way it raised your body temperature, your body itself raising onto your tip toes to crush against his torso wantonly. A hum of approval rumbled through his chest, which you felt more than heard courtesy of the early evening thunderstorm, a tremor running through you in silent reply.

Lewis’s lips wrenched back from yours, his chest heaving, his normally rich brown eyes darkened by something you’d never seen before, something wild, primal. It made your thighs clench slightly to see it, his nostrils flaring as he surely felt the motion given that you were very much still pressed against him. You stared at one another, unmoving, silent, yet in your hazy state you still managed to note that the tumult around you was easing up, the other side of the street becoming visible through the curtain of rain.

“Dinner.” He eventually exhaled, taking a reluctant step back to reintroduce a respectable distance.

“Mmm.” You replied nonsensically with a nod of affirmation as the rain petered out to no more than a mist, frantic drips falling from the awning in the aftermath of the squall.

Lewis eyed you intensely a moment, swallowing visibly before wrenching his gaze from your face and continuing back towards the car with your hand tucked into his elbow. By the time the pair of you arrived at a rather nice, but not too nice, restaurant you’d both managed to regain a sense of composure. Lewis navigated the menu and wine list expertly and you were happy to let him do so, rather afraid to look at the prices.

His choices were impeccable, some of the best you’d ever eaten, certainly since before the start of the war, and though you were growing tired at the end of the evening as he pulled up to the flat you shared with your father, you were also loath for it to end.

“Where are you staying?” Your eyes widened as you realized you’d forgotten to ask such a pivotal question.

“The Goddard Arms, it’s quite suitable – far superior to a fox hole at any rate. May I pick you up around the same time tomorrow?”

Running through your mental list of clients, you nodded, noting happily you would have some time to change before his arrival. “That would be lovely, thank you.”

“Perfect. I’d like to take you on a drive and a picnic, just so you can plan your wardrobe accordingly.” He winked teasingly. “I’ll walk you to your door.” He slid from the car as you laughed warmly, coming around to open your door and help you from the vehicle.

As he led you up the walk and into the building, you smiled to him softly. “Today was incredible, Lewis, thank you very much.”

“Glad you enjoyed it, I intend to outdo myself tomorrow.” He smirked and you smothered your laugh behind your hand, not wanting to disrupt the neighbours.

“Sleep well then, best to keep up your strength.” You teased before your eyes widened slightly at the unintended innuendo.

“Please, I beg you, don’t tempt me anymore than you already are, darling.” He muttered, voice taking on a dangerous tone as he leaned in to kiss you fiercely.

You clung to his shoulders, feeling quite at risk of being swept away by his intensity, breath shaking as he pulled back.

“Good night.” He rasped.

You nodded, speechless and fumbling with the door to the flat before eventually making it inside.

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

Read Part Five

I Wish You Love Masterlist

Tag list: @ronsparky, @fuckoffthanos, @bcon24, @gretagerwigsmuse

[eolewyn1010]

Downton Abbey Fashion 23 - 1920s outdoors fashion

I’m getting to the point where I have to shift around the age categorization of my posts because we’ve already gone from 107 outfits introduced in season 1 to 178 outfits introduced in season 3, so the image limit is coming to haunt me. So I’ll throw Rosamund’s one outdoors look in with the youngsters.

Yay, a very poorly-lit shot of her at the club… Uhm, I think this coat is brown with a big golden four-leaf clover pattern? And big-ass cuffs with a matching collat embroidered with something like a small leaf motif? No guarantee.

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Mary’s bored face speaks of wedding rehearsals, her coat of the amount of time one can spend weaving a fabric in which the pattern is a whole structural thing. Lovely, even though uncontrasted beige isn’t high on my fave list. The collar reveals some ribbed lining, a nice background for her bejeweled little pin there, and where would we even be if the hat didn’t match this perfectly? Being made of straw, the structure even looks like the lining. And then a little trim and a few brown leaves on it – this outfit feels very autumn-y, even though the wedding is in spring.

Mary’s honeymoon travel coat, a dream in blue. Love the sleeves; the fabric gives them some structure on top of the shoulder. And there’s of course the lovely flowered fabric the collar is made of. Interestingly, despite the outfit being so simple that she could afford some extra, the flowered fabric is not repeated on the hat; instead, it’s wrapped in a very similar blue fabric as the main part of the coat. The feather seems to be optional.

A wrapping beauty in a deep red, this is one of the coats that will inexplicably become Rosamund’s come season 5. I’m starting to think Rosamund doesn’t have money to buy her own clothes. She even takes Mary’s stupid black straw hat. But forget about the hat; look at the big, drapey sleeves and the elegant semi-cowl collar and the little decoration element on the closure… that Rosamund ripped off.

And for a final occasion in the season to wear her signature red, this pretty walking suit is what Mary wears for travel when her family is on vacation in Scotland. The streamlined cut doesn't give it much shape, but Mary is also pregnant here, so she’s probably quite comfortable in it. The color really is marvellous, although I’m not a great fan of the hat shape.

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Edith gets a whole ton of outdoors outfits this season, probably because she’s coming out of her shell and starting to spend time away from home. Look at this beauty of a coat! Wild experimental patterns, let’s go! This meld of flower motifs and geometrical shapes looks like it should be too much, but it really isn’t, what with the overall beigeness of the outfit and Edith choosing a very understated hat to go with this. And since we’re here anyway – she also wears this peach / salmon dress separately as a summer frock.

Of course, my favorites don’t make it to the next season while this coat does. Oh well. I’m not opposed to it; however, as Edith only ever seems to wear it in nighttime situations, I can’t get a well-lit shot of it. Working with a lot of gold and seafoam green, I think, and like the previous one, this is a typical 1920s coat, very simple cut, very wild fabric. I do love the matching silk scarf in the fist picture.

Hey, people are allowed to wear not-brown on hunting events! This green plaid is adorable, and the little silver brooch on the collar makes it even more so. Other than that, this look is quite understated with the shawl lapels and the bowl hat (or is this already a cloche hat?), but the latter seems to be made of velvet, so that is nice.

I personally don’t find this style of collar super flattering, but the overall outfit is nice, what with the pale grey-just-on-the-edge-of-lavender color. The lower half is a nice design with the three layers, each set off with two shell buttons, and the second picture betrays a slight grid structure of the fabric.

Oh, one of Edith’s orange contrasting looks! Granted, the shirt under it doesn’t look like much and is really just here for the sake of contrast, but the jacket! The hat! All them patterns… and even better; this shit is not printed, it’s embroidered. Gawd, I hope someone got paid well for the time they invested in this.

Favorite time! Oh my god, this walking suit. Look at all these golden triforces! I mean, the triangle embroidery. I first thought it’s just the coat, but no, she has a skirt to match. And it has pockets. What really strikes me about Edith’s outfits this season is that her hats rarely look like they were made for the outfit in question – like here, the band doesn’t have this golden triangle pattern. But it’s such a good match that you have to look twice to realize that; it blends in perfectly color- and design-wise.

I don’t know how I feel about this walking dress. On one hand, the salmon-y orange is very pretty; on the other, this collar style and fake tie front aren’t really my thing. No doubt that it’s nicely-made though, just some subtle silver piping here and there and otherwise the streamlined style of the 1920s, complete with drop waist.

This however? This is a favorite beyond reproach. Oh my god, the color pairing suits her so well! Finally some teal to compliment my favorite ginger! I think this is the first time I see Edith wear a beret – interestingly, in a time when the style is becoming associated with the working class. But then, Edith is dipping her toes into an occupation here, albeit journalism. What else is there to talk about? These darling little cuffs, the knife-pleated skirt, how charming the pearls fit in that wide teal yoke piece? It’s all there; feast thine eyes upon it.

[infiniterichesinalittleroom]

August

Dull August! Maiden of the sultry days, And Summer's latest born! When all the woods Grow dim with smoke, and smirch their lively green With haze of long-continued drought begot; When every field grows yellow, and a plague Of thirst dries up its herbage to the root, So that the cattle grow quite ribby-lean On woody stalks whose juices all are spent; When every fronded fern in mid-wood hid Grows sick and yellow with the jaundice heat, Whilst those on hill-sides glare with patchy red; When streamlets die upon the lichened rocks, And leave the bleaching pebbles shining bare, And every mussel shell agape and parched, And small snail-craft quite emptied of their crews; When not one angel-cloud is to be seen To image coolness and the coming rain, But all the air with stour and dust is filled, Through which the sun stares with a pallid face On which one long may look, and turn, and read Some prophecy of old with eyes undimmed; When every morn is fiery as the noon, And every eve is fiery as the morn, And every night a prison hot and dark, Where one doth sleep and dream of pleasant snow, And winter's icicles and blessed cold, But, soon awakes, with limbs uneasy cramped, And garments drenched, and stifled, panting breath; When life itself grows weary of its use, And mind is tarnished with the hue of things, And thoughts are sickened with o'erdàrkened food; When man uneasy strolls, a listless mome In museless misery, a wretch indeed— Say, fiery maiden, with the scorching eyes, What hast thou left to chain us to the earth? Ah, there are busy forms which, all unsought, Find yet a relish in thy scanty store. And, for that blooms are scarce, therefore the bee Wades knee-deep in the purple thistle tops, And shares their sweetness with the hungry wasp. Therefore the butterfly comes sailing down, And, heedless, lighting on a hummer's back, Soon tacks aloft in sudden strange alarm, Whilst bee and wasp quick scurry out of sight, And leave their treasures to the plodding ant. The beetle in the tree-top sits and sings His brassy tune with increase to the end, And one may peep and peer amongst the leaves, Yet see him not though still he sits aloft, And winds his reedy horn into the noon. Now many a sob is heard in thickets dim, Where little birds sit, pensive, on the spray, And muse mayhap on the delights of Spring; And many a chitmunk whistles out its fear, And jerks and darts along the panneled rails, Then stops, and watches with unwinking eyes Where you do stand, as motionless as death; But should you wag a finger through the air, Or move a-tiptoe o'er the crispy sod, 'Twill snudge away beneath the balsam brush, Quick lost and safe among the reddened spray. Now one may sit within a little vale, Close to the umbrage of some wood whose gums Give heavy odours to the heavy air, And watch the dusty crackers snap their wings, Whilst gangs of blue-flies fetch a buzzing teaze Of mad, uneasy whirlings overhead. Now one may mark the spider trim his web From bough to bough, and sorrow at the fate Of many a sapless fly quite picked and bare, Still hanging lifeless in the silken mesh, Or muse upon the maze of insect brede Which finds a home and feeds upon the leaves Till naught but fibre-skeletons are hung From branch to branch up to the highest twig. And many a curious pleasance may be seen And strange disport. Of such the wondrous glee The joinèd gnats have in their headlong flight; The wild'ring quest of horse-flies humming past In twos and threes, and the small cloud of wings Which mix and throng together in the sun. A num'rous kin dart shining o'er some pool Spared from the general wreck of water store, And from the lofty woods crow-blackbird trains Chuck o'er the barren leas with long-drawn flight. Far o'er the hills the grouse's feath'ry drum Beats quick and loud within a beechen copse, And, sometimes, when the heavy woods are still, A single tap upon a hemlock spire Dwells with the lonely glades in echoes deep. Then with the eve come sounds of varied note. The boys troop clam'ring to the woods, and curs Yelp sharply where the groundhog's lair is found. The horn has called the reapers from the fields, And, now, from cots half-hid by fruited trees, The homely strains of fiddle or of fife, Which distance sweetens with a needed art, Come dropping on the ear. And sometimes, too, If sparks are deemed sincere, and rustic love Run smooth, the merry milkmaids sing A fallow's length with pails at elbow slung, Or, while they thrust the draw-well dangler down, 'Gainst which the swains oppose their yielding strength, Laugh loud and long, or scold with mimicked heat. These find a pleasure in the waste of days, And strive against the mis'ry of the time With am'rous snares and artifice of love. Not less those faithful ones who look upon This weather-sorrow with sufficing joy— The old, who still would linger with their seed, And snatch a little comfort from the earth. Still would they gaze upon the simmering sun, And take the warmth into their aged bones, Nor cavil with the hindrances which stay. The lethal hour when death shall come and bend Their reverend heads into the restful grave. Hail August! Maiden of the sultry days, To thee I bring the measured meed of praise. For, though thou hast besmirched the day and night, And hid a wealth of glory from our sight, Thou still dost build in musing, pensive mood, Thy blissful idyls in the underwood. Thou still dost yield new beauties, fair and young, With many a form of grace as yet unsung, Which ripens o'er thy pathway and repays The toil and languor of the sultry days.

by Charles Mair

[downtoearthmarkets]

Memorial Day is almost upon us along with the unofficial start of summer and the kickoff of pool, beach and backyard grilling season! Prime growing season has also arrived on our farms, bringing with it an abundance of freshly picked goodies that are currently at their peak for you to enjoy over the long holiday weekend.

Red Radish Salad Although radishes are available year-round in the northeast, these vibrant veggies are at their best in late spring. Their peppery flavor, striking color and firm crunch shine forth during these months due to the relatively cool temperatures and damp conditions in which they thrive.

You’ll find stacks of scarlet red globe radishes glistening in their springtime glory at our farm stalls this weekend. Grab a lush bunch or two to make this bright, zippy salad that’ll serve as refreshing complement to whatever’s sizzling away on the grill.

Ingredients:

1-pound red radishes, cut into 1/4-inch-thick wedges

Grated zest from 1 lemon, about 1 teaspoon

Juice from 1 lemon, about 3 to 4 tablespoons

1/4 cup minced shallots

1/2 teaspoon salt

A heaping 1/4 cup shelled pistachios

10 large fresh mint leaves, chopped or sliced thin, about 1/4 cup

1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil

Grilled Asparagus with Fresh Thyme May is the peak month for the freshest and most flavorful asparagus in this region. Asparagus is a perennial vegetable that produces tasty, tender shoots every spring and can live up to 30 years. However, asparagus season is very short lived, and farmers must only harvest the spears for 6-8 weeks before allowing the plants to regrow and focus on building up their energy reserves for the next season.

The Memorial Day holiday weekend offers the perfect time to pay homage to this aromatic Proustian delicacy before the season starts to wind down. Your grill is already fired up, so why not use the heat to steam some tender bunches of asparagus from the farm stalls?

Rinse, dry and trim the tough woody ends off asparagus stalks.

Tear off two pieces of heavy-duty tin foil and lay them on top of each other.

Place the asparagus spears in the center of the foil.

Coat spears with olive oil and season with flaky salt and cracked pepper.

Toss the spears with fresh minced garlic for extra flavor and aroma.

Sprinkle fresh thyme or rosemary over spears to impart a deep cooked-in flavor.

Fold up the sides of the foil so you have a sealed package.

Place it on the grill and cook until the spears are just tender, 5 to 15 minutes depending on the heat of the grill and thickness of asparagus.

Crumble fresh cow’s milk feta over the cooked spears.

Spritz with freshly squeezed lemon juice and sprinkle with extra salt to taste and serve hot.

Marinated Grilled Striped Bass Also known as striper or rockfish, striped bass is one of the most sought-after fish in North America as it is delicious, healthy, and extremely versatile.

Striped bass are native to the East Coast with their habitat extending from the St. Lawrence River in Canada to the St. John’s River in northeast Florida. They are an anadromous species, meaning they live in saltwater but migrate to freshwater to spawn. The closely regulated commercial fishing season for striped bass in certain areas of the Long Island Sound runs only from May 15th to December 15th, so its kickoff coincides perfectly with your Memorial Day grilling fest!

The firm, dense and meaty texture of striped bass holds up excellently on a barbecue making it easy to flip and cook evenly. Thanks to its high fat content, striped bass remains juicy, moist and tender after grilling and will develop a delightfully flavorful char when cooked over an open flame in this delicious recipe: 

Ingredients:

Two large striped bass filets

1⁄2 cup extra virgin olive oil

2 limes, juice of

2 limes, zest of

1⁄2 cup fresh cilantro, chopped

2 cloves garlic, chopped

Coarse salt

Cracked black pepper, to taste

Directions:

Combine olive oil, lime juice, lime zest, cilantro and garlic in a large shallow bowl.

Add salt and pepper to taste.

With the tip of a paring knife, make three diagonal slits through the skin of each filet.

Place the fish in the marinade and turn to coat the fish.

Cover and refrigerate for at least one hour.

Light a charcoal grill or turn a gas grill to medium high.

Place the bass on the grill and cook for about 8 minutes on each side, or until the fish flakes easily.

It’s also prime rhubarb season and strawberries are starting to trickle into the markets in earnest, so dessert should be easy to plan this Memorial Day, whether it’s homemade or in the form of a freshly baked fruit tart from the farmstalls. We look forward to seeing you in the farmers market!

[cleverhottubmiracle]

Ssense lives in the future: its Montreal flagship, a temple of minimalist Bauhaus design meets The Fifth Element camp, is a natural light-filled mecca where post-postmodern fashion occupies its five floors. Seasonal hits from The Row, Phoebe Philo, and Tory Burch welcome you in on the ground level, encouraging further exploration of its men’s and women’s curations that span the multiple stories. The fifth, and final floor, is by far the most expansive. A bright white monastic light reveals an experimentation in extremes: austere metal racks are lined with romantic tulle dresses from Ssense’s latest wedding capsule, and black concrete and stainless steel shelves are dotted with elegant perfume bottles and multicolored vessels.But what impresses most is what’s not on immediate display. As a digital-first property, Ssense carries limited inventory on-site—but those visiting the boutique, like myself, can connect beforehand with a personal stylist who’ll pull items from your wish list and ship them to the store in as little as 24 hours. I shared my final selects on a Tuesday, and by Thursday morning, every single item I had hearted—from the statement Nour Hammour leather jackets and Dries Van Noten skirts to the colorful Dragon Diffusion bags and teeny-tiny Sophie Buhai shell clips—had arrived from their warehouse for me to try on. And so, as we made our way down to the fourth floor, an overflowing rack of spring fashions greeted me outside my fitting room, with accessories arranged in picture-perfect vignettes.Somewhere between reality and dream—seeing my wish list come to life—I felt a sense of creative freedom. Ssense’s flagship boutique, an extension of its instantly recognizable world building, is as immersive and surrealist as its virtual self. The pieces I felt a magnetic pull toward mirror what I believe the multi-brand retailer does best: curate directional fashion alongside under-the-radar, discovery labels. Here’s how I approached that inconspicuously self-referential, mix-and-match.In the LimelightI was channeling Miuccia Prada’s particular brand of Milanese elegance when I put on this first look, comprised of a trim lime green &Daughter cardigan, teal Dries Van Noten skirt, and black Dunst leather jacket. Eugene from the Ssense team, an absolute legend who has been there for 13 years and whose birthday it was the day we visited helped me roll up the sleeves of the sweater and jacket for nonchalant ease. I loved the optic contrast of Jil Sander’s white kitten heeled sandals against the crinkled satin skirt, a dream piece that was hard to part with—and a great example of a buy that reflects Ssense’s unique point of view. (I’m not not saying I woke up at 4:30 a.m the next day thinking about this particular piece.) Dunst’s oversized jacket—a label I first discovered on Ssense but had to encounter in real life—had great heft and gave the overall look feminine edge. (It’s no longer available, so I’ve linked a close second below in Nour Hammour’s Clint jacket.) The Row’s ’90s bag, in a dark chocolate suede, is one of those passe-partout accessories you simply can’t go wrong with.Nour Hammourbrown Clint utilitarian leather jacketDries Van Notencrinkled satin midi skirtPunchy PythonEverything about this look reflects exactly how I want to dress right now: a little cool, a little irreverent. I built the outfit around Dries Van Noten’s python-print skirt—a similar print (rendered as a coat for Look 1) opened the brand’s spring runway show and was styled with red heels as well. I loved all the lush patterns and embroidery details from the collection—the first women’s one following the Belgian designer’s retirement and executed by the in-house design studio—but wanted to make this statement piece feel more wearable by toning it down a with simple white T-shirt. This fitted one from Flore Flore, the Car tee, was the perfect blank canvas for Sophie Buhai’s onyx boule necklace and a buttery leather jacket from Nour Hammour—a wardrobe staple so good I would have left the store wearing it had they let me. The small, east-west shape of Alaïa’s Le Click Bag worked nicely here: I liked the textural complement of the soft nubuck suede against the leather, and the bag’s graceful curves tucked perfectly underneath the arm, as if it weren’t there at all.AlaïaLe Click East West small bagNour HammourDrey 'The It Girl' leather jacketSophie BuhaiEveryday boule collar necklacePin(ch) MeI’m slightly out of my element here in pink and red—they’re two colors I don’t wear often, let alone together, but I loved how they softened up this more directional skirt from Carven. The pearl pin is affixed onto the side, so it looks like someone pinched the satin and went about their day. Small details complete the look for me: Sophie Buhai’s shell hair clip clipped onto the handle of The Row’s petite Park Tote and the same multicolored pearl necklace I’ve been wearing throughout. (I’m going to break the fourth wall here to say that the accessories I am wearing are quite telling of how I personally shop and dress: even in a room full of options, I still go for pieces that can be worn on repeat and styled in new ways. Habits—they are impossible to break!)Sophie Buhaismall fan shell claw hair clipSo Wrong It’s RightAt first glance, Tory Burch’s brown sequin bodysuit and Tove’s green-gold crinkled skirt should not look so good together—but the color math says otherwise. Ssense had just launched its runway edit from Tory Burch’s spring collection and by some galactic force, this is the piece I was most excited to try. It was styled on the runway with a low and loose striped track pant (Look 24) and patent leather Reva ballet flats, reissued exclusively for the site. I wanted to offset the sporty feel of the runway look by pairing it with something more elegant and dressed-up as I wouldn’t personally wear a sequin bodysuit in the day. Tove’s high-shine maxi and Jil Sander’s kitten heels are impactful but not distracting. The Row’s ’90s Bag makes a second cameo for a subtle finishing touch.Summer Color PaillettesStraight from our Under-$300 Style Special: this Gimaguas sequin-trimmed white maxi skirt which I had to try on before leaving. A tad sheer but not uncomfortably so, I’d wear it with a simple white tank and flip-flops for a warm Summer Friday at work. For right now, a Studio Nicholson trench coat that fit even better IRL, and a lightweight knit from Aurelee acted as perfect foil for weather that’s still in limbo. I have a collected a few Dragon Diffusion bags over the years—the understated beauty of the artisanal weave adds crafty charm however styled—and this color variation is next on my list. Butter yellow and rose-tinged red liven up the overall ensemble.Auraleeflat cord yarn boat neck sweaterEverything Else Source link

[norajworld]

Ssense lives in the future: its Montreal flagship, a temple of minimalist Bauhaus design meets The Fifth Element camp, is a natural light-filled mecca where post-postmodern fashion occupies its five floors. Seasonal hits from The Row, Phoebe Philo, and Tory Burch welcome you in on the ground level, encouraging further exploration of its men’s and women’s curations that span the multiple stories. The fifth, and final floor, is by far the most expansive. A bright white monastic light reveals an experimentation in extremes: austere metal racks are lined with romantic tulle dresses from Ssense’s latest wedding capsule, and black concrete and stainless steel shelves are dotted with elegant perfume bottles and multicolored vessels.But what impresses most is what’s not on immediate display. As a digital-first property, Ssense carries limited inventory on-site—but those visiting the boutique, like myself, can connect beforehand with a personal stylist who’ll pull items from your wish list and ship them to the store in as little as 24 hours. I shared my final selects on a Tuesday, and by Thursday morning, every single item I had hearted—from the statement Nour Hammour leather jackets and Dries Van Noten skirts to the colorful Dragon Diffusion bags and teeny-tiny Sophie Buhai shell clips—had arrived from their warehouse for me to try on. And so, as we made our way down to the fourth floor, an overflowing rack of spring fashions greeted me outside my fitting room, with accessories arranged in picture-perfect vignettes.Somewhere between reality and dream—seeing my wish list come to life—I felt a sense of creative freedom. Ssense’s flagship boutique, an extension of its instantly recognizable world building, is as immersive and surrealist as its virtual self. The pieces I felt a magnetic pull toward mirror what I believe the multi-brand retailer does best: curate directional fashion alongside under-the-radar, discovery labels. Here’s how I approached that inconspicuously self-referential, mix-and-match.In the LimelightI was channeling Miuccia Prada’s particular brand of Milanese elegance when I put on this first look, comprised of a trim lime green &Daughter cardigan, teal Dries Van Noten skirt, and black Dunst leather jacket. Eugene from the Ssense team, an absolute legend who has been there for 13 years and whose birthday it was the day we visited helped me roll up the sleeves of the sweater and jacket for nonchalant ease. I loved the optic contrast of Jil Sander’s white kitten heeled sandals against the crinkled satin skirt, a dream piece that was hard to part with—and a great example of a buy that reflects Ssense’s unique point of view. (I’m not not saying I woke up at 4:30 a.m the next day thinking about this particular piece.) Dunst’s oversized jacket—a label I first discovered on Ssense but had to encounter in real life—had great heft and gave the overall look feminine edge. (It’s no longer available, so I’ve linked a close second below in Nour Hammour’s Clint jacket.) The Row’s ’90s bag, in a dark chocolate suede, is one of those passe-partout accessories you simply can’t go wrong with.Nour Hammourbrown Clint utilitarian leather jacketDries Van Notencrinkled satin midi skirtPunchy PythonEverything about this look reflects exactly how I want to dress right now: a little cool, a little irreverent. I built the outfit around Dries Van Noten’s python-print skirt—a similar print (rendered as a coat for Look 1) opened the brand’s spring runway show and was styled with red heels as well. I loved all the lush patterns and embroidery details from the collection—the first women’s one following the Belgian designer’s retirement and executed by the in-house design studio—but wanted to make this statement piece feel more wearable by toning it down a with simple white T-shirt. This fitted one from Flore Flore, the Car tee, was the perfect blank canvas for Sophie Buhai’s onyx boule necklace and a buttery leather jacket from Nour Hammour—a wardrobe staple so good I would have left the store wearing it had they let me. The small, east-west shape of Alaïa’s Le Click Bag worked nicely here: I liked the textural complement of the soft nubuck suede against the leather, and the bag’s graceful curves tucked perfectly underneath the arm, as if it weren’t there at all.AlaïaLe Click East West small bagNour HammourDrey 'The It Girl' leather jacketSophie BuhaiEveryday boule collar necklacePin(ch) MeI’m slightly out of my element here in pink and red—they’re two colors I don’t wear often, let alone together, but I loved how they softened up this more directional skirt from Carven. The pearl pin is affixed onto the side, so it looks like someone pinched the satin and went about their day. Small details complete the look for me: Sophie Buhai’s shell hair clip clipped onto the handle of The Row’s petite Park Tote and the same multicolored pearl necklace I’ve been wearing throughout. (I’m going to break the fourth wall here to say that the accessories I am wearing are quite telling of how I personally shop and dress: even in a room full of options, I still go for pieces that can be worn on repeat and styled in new ways. Habits—they are impossible to break!)Sophie Buhaismall fan shell claw hair clipSo Wrong It’s RightAt first glance, Tory Burch’s brown sequin bodysuit and Tove’s green-gold crinkled skirt should not look so good together—but the color math says otherwise. Ssense had just launched its runway edit from Tory Burch’s spring collection and by some galactic force, this is the piece I was most excited to try. It was styled on the runway with a low and loose striped track pant (Look 24) and patent leather Reva ballet flats, reissued exclusively for the site. I wanted to offset the sporty feel of the runway look by pairing it with something more elegant and dressed-up as I wouldn’t personally wear a sequin bodysuit in the day. Tove’s high-shine maxi and Jil Sander’s kitten heels are impactful but not distracting. The Row’s ’90s Bag makes a second cameo for a subtle finishing touch.Summer Color PaillettesStraight from our Under-$300 Style Special: this Gimaguas sequin-trimmed white maxi skirt which I had to try on before leaving. A tad sheer but not uncomfortably so, I’d wear it with a simple white tank and flip-flops for a warm Summer Friday at work. For right now, a Studio Nicholson trench coat that fit even better IRL, and a lightweight knit from Aurelee acted as perfect foil for weather that’s still in limbo. I have a collected a few Dragon Diffusion bags over the years—the understated beauty of the artisanal weave adds crafty charm however styled—and this color variation is next on my list. Butter yellow and rose-tinged red liven up the overall ensemble.Auraleeflat cord yarn boat neck sweaterEverything Else Source link

[tameblog]

April 03, 2025 When April’s roses unfurl their soft petals, Lucinda Hutson whips up a batch of Purple Passion cocktails (dry gin, fresh lemon juice, and crème de violette liqueur), assembles garden-fresh hors d’oeuvres, and invites her friends over to enjoy the spring spectacle. I count myself very fortunate to have been invited to partake. Her front-yard cottage garden and raspberry-trimmed purple house exude joy and make a celebration of everyday life. Why live (or decorate) like everyone else when you can envelope yourself with color? Lucinda doubled down on her favorite color this spring, adding purple seating and a purple umbrella to her front patio. She found the faux-wicker set as cast-offs on the curb. She hauled them home, spray-painted them, and dressed them up with colorful Guatemalan pillows. A potted ‘Mother of Pearl’ rose sits on the patio too, and it’s luminous. The fragrance is softly sweet. Lucinda stocks up on colorful annuals each spring to bring her emerging garden to life. She stuffs pot after pot with begonias, petunias, marigolds, and more. They may only last until early summer, when the Texas heat makes them cry uncle, but she enjoys them throughout the spring. A dark-leaved begonia with apricot flowers graces the patio table. The Virgin of Guadalupe watches over the garden. Handsome terracotta pots of petunias and other annuals line the gravel driveway. Long ago, Lucinda turned the back half of her driveway into a garden room by building a stone wall and an arbor, which echoes the pointy gable of her house. A ‘Don Juan’ rose scrambles up the arbor, its red flowers giving way to Brazilian sky vine’s azure blossoms in late summer. Such an inviting entrance Little pansy faces look out from a wooden window box. Hello! A smoky red rose smolders near the street. Like someone waking up with a yawn, arms outstretched, the delicate flowers of some type of garlic rise above fuzzy leaves of heartleaf skullcap. Cute Lucinda grew up on the border in El Paso and favors garden art that reflects her love of Mexico’s culture and people. A pink rose — maybe ‘Carefree Beauty’ — peeks through the bars of a garden trellis. Patio life in Lucinda’s garden is good. That apricot begonia And more of the pink rose One more A birdhouse that’s a replica of Lucinda’s purple casita is currently home to a nesting pair of titmice. Another luscious rose Lucinda’s longtime garden helper made this bougainvillea trellis in a heart shape, topped by a circle. It’s just beginning to flower. Back to those beautiful, round-bellied pots A stone fish atop the wall seems to swim through a kelp forest of dwarf palmetto leaves. Behind the wall, hidden from the street, Lucinda’s shell-encrusted mermaid garden offers another enchanting garden room. Beyond that, a vegetable garden built atop the concrete driveway is lined with potted annuals. Lucinda dressed up the pots with charming ceramic tiles on garden stakes. She had her garden helper carefully drill a hole in the bottom of each tile for a stake. I told her she could sell more like these on Etsy! When a few of Lucinda’s collection of children’s chairs from Mexico began to rot, her helper stacked them in a pot to make a lighthearted sculpture. A lavender-tinged bearded iris is the first of the season to bloom. I love the ruffled, flouncing petals and orange beards. Potted aloes and empty liquor bottles decorate a shelf in the way-back garden room. Back to the front garden… …and then last evening, I was back for more, this time with drinks and delicious bites Lucinda prepared and garnished with pansies and herbs. No wonder I look happy, right? That begonia again — as the sun sank low, those apricot petals began to glow. The Virgin was standing nearby… …blessing the garden. Flowers graced the birdbath — and our cocktail glasses. Lucinda never overlooks little details like this, which add beauty to her garden gatherings. The mermaid garden gate A mermaid tile on the wall Larkspur — purple, of course — glows up a window box. A glittering path of blue glass beads and stone, with a fish tile in the middle, leads you into the garden. Let’s end with that luminous ‘Mother of Pearl’ rose — the queen of Lucinda’s garden this week. Thank you for a beautiful happy hour among the flowers, Lucinda! I welcome your comments. Please scroll to the end of this post to leave one. If you’re reading in an email, click here to visit Digging and find the comment box at the end of each post. And hey, did someone forward this email to you, and you want to subscribe? Click here to get Digging delivered directly to your inbox! __________________________ Digging Deeper Come learn about a visionary xeriscape and pollinator garden called SummerHome at my next Garden Spark presentation on April 10th at 7:30 pm! Tickets are on sale now. I’m excited to welcome Lisa Negri to my Garden Spark speaker series and introduce her to a Texas audience of appreciative native plant lovers. Hear how she transformed an empty lot into an oasis for wildlife and neighbors. The talk will be held at Leaf Landscape Supply (north location), and tickets must be purchased in advance. Join us for an evening of learning, inspiration, and community with fellow garden lovers! Fill up your garden with plants from the 2025 plant sale by the Hill Country Bloomers Garden Club on April 12, from 10 am to 3 pm. Held in Milburn Park in Cedar Park, the club will offer “a wide variety of vegetable starts, native plants, perennials, and annuals, along with cacti and succulents. Our garden members and growers will be on hand to help you select plants and answer questions. All proceeds from the plant sales support our Educational Garden Grants for schools and non-profit youth programs in the LISD district.” Shop the Spring Native Plant Sale at the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center each weekend through April 27, 9 am to 1 pm (last entry at 12:30 pm). Plant sale admission is free. Bring your own wagon or cart to transport your treasures. Tour 5 unique Houston gardens on Saturday, April 26, from 10 am to 4 pm, during the Garden Conservancy’s Open Day Tour for Houston. Tickets must be purchased online in advance through the Garden Conservancy. Come learn about gardening and design at Garden Spark! I organize in-person talks by inspiring designers, landscape architects, authors, and gardeners a few times a year in Austin. These are limited-attendance events that sell out quickly, so join the Garden Spark email list to be notified in advance; simply click this link and ask to be added. Read all about the Season 8 lineup here! All material © 2025 by Pam Penick for Digging. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited. Source link

[ramestoryworld]

April 03, 2025 When April’s roses unfurl their soft petals, Lucinda Hutson whips up a batch of Purple Passion cocktails (dry gin, fresh lemon juice, and crème de violette liqueur), assembles garden-fresh hors d’oeuvres, and invites her friends over to enjoy the spring spectacle. I count myself very fortunate to have been invited to partake. Her front-yard cottage garden and raspberry-trimmed purple house exude joy and make a celebration of everyday life. Why live (or decorate) like everyone else when you can envelope yourself with color? Lucinda doubled down on her favorite color this spring, adding purple seating and a purple umbrella to her front patio. She found the faux-wicker set as cast-offs on the curb. She hauled them home, spray-painted them, and dressed them up with colorful Guatemalan pillows. A potted ‘Mother of Pearl’ rose sits on the patio too, and it’s luminous. The fragrance is softly sweet. Lucinda stocks up on colorful annuals each spring to bring her emerging garden to life. She stuffs pot after pot with begonias, petunias, marigolds, and more. They may only last until early summer, when the Texas heat makes them cry uncle, but she enjoys them throughout the spring. A dark-leaved begonia with apricot flowers graces the patio table. The Virgin of Guadalupe watches over the garden. Handsome terracotta pots of petunias and other annuals line the gravel driveway. Long ago, Lucinda turned the back half of her driveway into a garden room by building a stone wall and an arbor, which echoes the pointy gable of her house. A ‘Don Juan’ rose scrambles up the arbor, its red flowers giving way to Brazilian sky vine’s azure blossoms in late summer. Such an inviting entrance Little pansy faces look out from a wooden window box. Hello! A smoky red rose smolders near the street. Like someone waking up with a yawn, arms outstretched, the delicate flowers of some type of garlic rise above fuzzy leaves of heartleaf skullcap. Cute Lucinda grew up on the border in El Paso and favors garden art that reflects her love of Mexico’s culture and people. A pink rose — maybe ‘Carefree Beauty’ — peeks through the bars of a garden trellis. Patio life in Lucinda’s garden is good. That apricot begonia And more of the pink rose One more A birdhouse that’s a replica of Lucinda’s purple casita is currently home to a nesting pair of titmice. Another luscious rose Lucinda’s longtime garden helper made this bougainvillea trellis in a heart shape, topped by a circle. It’s just beginning to flower. Back to those beautiful, round-bellied pots A stone fish atop the wall seems to swim through a kelp forest of dwarf palmetto leaves. Behind the wall, hidden from the street, Lucinda’s shell-encrusted mermaid garden offers another enchanting garden room. Beyond that, a vegetable garden built atop the concrete driveway is lined with potted annuals. Lucinda dressed up the pots with charming ceramic tiles on garden stakes. She had her garden helper carefully drill a hole in the bottom of each tile for a stake. I told her she could sell more like these on Etsy! When a few of Lucinda’s collection of children’s chairs from Mexico began to rot, her helper stacked them in a pot to make a lighthearted sculpture. A lavender-tinged bearded iris is the first of the season to bloom. I love the ruffled, flouncing petals and orange beards. Potted aloes and empty liquor bottles decorate a shelf in the way-back garden room. Back to the front garden… …and then last evening, I was back for more, this time with drinks and delicious bites Lucinda prepared and garnished with pansies and herbs. No wonder I look happy, right? That begonia again — as the sun sank low, those apricot petals began to glow. The Virgin was standing nearby… …blessing the garden. Flowers graced the birdbath — and our cocktail glasses. Lucinda never overlooks little details like this, which add beauty to her garden gatherings. The mermaid garden gate A mermaid tile on the wall Larkspur — purple, of course — glows up a window box. A glittering path of blue glass beads and stone, with a fish tile in the middle, leads you into the garden. Let’s end with that luminous ‘Mother of Pearl’ rose — the queen of Lucinda’s garden this week. Thank you for a beautiful happy hour among the flowers, Lucinda! I welcome your comments. Please scroll to the end of this post to leave one. If you’re reading in an email, click here to visit Digging and find the comment box at the end of each post. And hey, did someone forward this email to you, and you want to subscribe? Click here to get Digging delivered directly to your inbox! __________________________ Digging Deeper Come learn about a visionary xeriscape and pollinator garden called SummerHome at my next Garden Spark presentation on April 10th at 7:30 pm! Tickets are on sale now. I’m excited to welcome Lisa Negri to my Garden Spark speaker series and introduce her to a Texas audience of appreciative native plant lovers. Hear how she transformed an empty lot into an oasis for wildlife and neighbors. The talk will be held at Leaf Landscape Supply (north location), and tickets must be purchased in advance. Join us for an evening of learning, inspiration, and community with fellow garden lovers! Fill up your garden with plants from the 2025 plant sale by the Hill Country Bloomers Garden Club on April 12, from 10 am to 3 pm. Held in Milburn Park in Cedar Park, the club will offer “a wide variety of vegetable starts, native plants, perennials, and annuals, along with cacti and succulents. Our garden members and growers will be on hand to help you select plants and answer questions. All proceeds from the plant sales support our Educational Garden Grants for schools and non-profit youth programs in the LISD district.” Shop the Spring Native Plant Sale at the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center each weekend through April 27, 9 am to 1 pm (last entry at 12:30 pm). Plant sale admission is free. Bring your own wagon or cart to transport your treasures. Tour 5 unique Houston gardens on Saturday, April 26, from 10 am to 4 pm, during the Garden Conservancy’s Open Day Tour for Houston. Tickets must be purchased online in advance through the Garden Conservancy. Come learn about gardening and design at Garden Spark! I organize in-person talks by inspiring designers, landscape architects, authors, and gardeners a few times a year in Austin. These are limited-attendance events that sell out quickly, so join the Garden Spark email list to be notified in advance; simply click this link and ask to be added. Read all about the Season 8 lineup here! All material © 2025 by Pam Penick for Digging. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited. Source link

[alexha2210]

April 03, 2025 When April’s roses unfurl their soft petals, Lucinda Hutson whips up a batch of Purple Passion cocktails (dry gin, fresh lemon juice, and crème de violette liqueur), assembles garden-fresh hors d’oeuvres, and invites her friends over to enjoy the spring spectacle. I count myself very fortunate to have been invited to partake. Her front-yard cottage garden and raspberry-trimmed purple house exude joy and make a celebration of everyday life. Why live (or decorate) like everyone else when you can envelope yourself with color? Lucinda doubled down on her favorite color this spring, adding purple seating and a purple umbrella to her front patio. She found the faux-wicker set as cast-offs on the curb. She hauled them home, spray-painted them, and dressed them up with colorful Guatemalan pillows. A potted ‘Mother of Pearl’ rose sits on the patio too, and it’s luminous. The fragrance is softly sweet. Lucinda stocks up on colorful annuals each spring to bring her emerging garden to life. She stuffs pot after pot with begonias, petunias, marigolds, and more. They may only last until early summer, when the Texas heat makes them cry uncle, but she enjoys them throughout the spring. A dark-leaved begonia with apricot flowers graces the patio table. The Virgin of Guadalupe watches over the garden. Handsome terracotta pots of petunias and other annuals line the gravel driveway. Long ago, Lucinda turned the back half of her driveway into a garden room by building a stone wall and an arbor, which echoes the pointy gable of her house. A ‘Don Juan’ rose scrambles up the arbor, its red flowers giving way to Brazilian sky vine’s azure blossoms in late summer. Such an inviting entrance Little pansy faces look out from a wooden window box. Hello! A smoky red rose smolders near the street. Like someone waking up with a yawn, arms outstretched, the delicate flowers of some type of garlic rise above fuzzy leaves of heartleaf skullcap. Cute Lucinda grew up on the border in El Paso and favors garden art that reflects her love of Mexico’s culture and people. A pink rose — maybe ‘Carefree Beauty’ — peeks through the bars of a garden trellis. Patio life in Lucinda’s garden is good. That apricot begonia And more of the pink rose One more A birdhouse that’s a replica of Lucinda’s purple casita is currently home to a nesting pair of titmice. Another luscious rose Lucinda’s longtime garden helper made this bougainvillea trellis in a heart shape, topped by a circle. It’s just beginning to flower. Back to those beautiful, round-bellied pots A stone fish atop the wall seems to swim through a kelp forest of dwarf palmetto leaves. Behind the wall, hidden from the street, Lucinda’s shell-encrusted mermaid garden offers another enchanting garden room. Beyond that, a vegetable garden built atop the concrete driveway is lined with potted annuals. Lucinda dressed up the pots with charming ceramic tiles on garden stakes. She had her garden helper carefully drill a hole in the bottom of each tile for a stake. I told her she could sell more like these on Etsy! When a few of Lucinda’s collection of children’s chairs from Mexico began to rot, her helper stacked them in a pot to make a lighthearted sculpture. A lavender-tinged bearded iris is the first of the season to bloom. I love the ruffled, flouncing petals and orange beards. Potted aloes and empty liquor bottles decorate a shelf in the way-back garden room. Back to the front garden… …and then last evening, I was back for more, this time with drinks and delicious bites Lucinda prepared and garnished with pansies and herbs. No wonder I look happy, right? That begonia again — as the sun sank low, those apricot petals began to glow. The Virgin was standing nearby… …blessing the garden. Flowers graced the birdbath — and our cocktail glasses. Lucinda never overlooks little details like this, which add beauty to her garden gatherings. The mermaid garden gate A mermaid tile on the wall Larkspur — purple, of course — glows up a window box. A glittering path of blue glass beads and stone, with a fish tile in the middle, leads you into the garden. Let’s end with that luminous ‘Mother of Pearl’ rose — the queen of Lucinda’s garden this week. Thank you for a beautiful happy hour among the flowers, Lucinda! I welcome your comments. Please scroll to the end of this post to leave one. If you’re reading in an email, click here to visit Digging and find the comment box at the end of each post. And hey, did someone forward this email to you, and you want to subscribe? Click here to get Digging delivered directly to your inbox! __________________________ Digging Deeper Come learn about a visionary xeriscape and pollinator garden called SummerHome at my next Garden Spark presentation on April 10th at 7:30 pm! Tickets are on sale now. I’m excited to welcome Lisa Negri to my Garden Spark speaker series and introduce her to a Texas audience of appreciative native plant lovers. Hear how she transformed an empty lot into an oasis for wildlife and neighbors. The talk will be held at Leaf Landscape Supply (north location), and tickets must be purchased in advance. Join us for an evening of learning, inspiration, and community with fellow garden lovers! Fill up your garden with plants from the 2025 plant sale by the Hill Country Bloomers Garden Club on April 12, from 10 am to 3 pm. Held in Milburn Park in Cedar Park, the club will offer “a wide variety of vegetable starts, native plants, perennials, and annuals, along with cacti and succulents. Our garden members and growers will be on hand to help you select plants and answer questions. All proceeds from the plant sales support our Educational Garden Grants for schools and non-profit youth programs in the LISD district.” Shop the Spring Native Plant Sale at the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center each weekend through April 27, 9 am to 1 pm (last entry at 12:30 pm). Plant sale admission is free. Bring your own wagon or cart to transport your treasures. Tour 5 unique Houston gardens on Saturday, April 26, from 10 am to 4 pm, during the Garden Conservancy’s Open Day Tour for Houston. Tickets must be purchased online in advance through the Garden Conservancy. Come learn about gardening and design at Garden Spark! I organize in-person talks by inspiring designers, landscape architects, authors, and gardeners a few times a year in Austin. These are limited-attendance events that sell out quickly, so join the Garden Spark email list to be notified in advance; simply click this link and ask to be added. Read all about the Season 8 lineup here! All material © 2025 by Pam Penick for Digging. Unauthorized reproduction prohibited. Source link