#supporting the local food coop

[that-one-daydream-you-forgot]

these are my own personal headcanons for our local sparkly elf

insert a song only he remembers stuck in his head

doing evil sparkly elf things

rehearsing the things he's gonna say to the mage that he's been ignoring

trying to make the a cool reveal while wearing the hood while viren is doing his thing

daily practicing with magic

workout(?) for 2-3 hours (working out to out run the child support bills)

does he eat human food or does he just like-

idk why but i just hc him as a bad cook....not that bad- it's just that he magics everything, that i don't think he knows how to cook like a human

probably took care of sir sparklepuff while it was transitioning into the butterfly...(it's my way to coop)

...eats flowers

can and has went into virens dreams and then denies ever being in there

has the softest hair even by elf standards

i think he (hopefully) has a shower

or maybe he can magic cleaning himself again

can do the booba blade thing

(OPAI like the ones in genshin physics)

he has nice hands, takes care of them regularly

[ms-m-astrologer]

Transiting Ceres enters retrograde zone

Timeline (current events in bold)

Thursday, February 29, 07:44 UT - transiting Ceres enters pre-retrograde shadow, 7°29’ Capricorn

Wednesday, May 15, 05:36 UT - transiting Ceres stations retrograde, 21°33’ Capricorn

Monday, August 26, 07:39 UT - transiting Ceres stations direct, 7°29’ Capricorn

Monday, November 11, 22:43 UT - transiting Ceres exits post-retrograde shadow, 21°33’ Capricorn

===+++===

Caveat: this may not have much of an impact on you unless Ceres is prominent in your birth chart. She’d have to be in close aspect to the Sun, Moon, &/or an angle (Ascendant, IC, Descendant, MC), possibly with strong Virgo &/or 6th House energy.

Since I have been fighting and losing to the migraines for about the last ten days, here is an excerpt about Ceres Rx from Martin Bulgerin’s web site biopscinst.com:

When the Great Mother Ceres turns retrograde on us, the entire notion of mothering and nurturance is up for grabs in our lives. This goes far beyond "just children", since Ceres describes the ways we give to and receive loving support from others. You're being forced to reconsider what you really care about. Some of our "babies" must be allowed to grow up and fly the coop if our attachments are holding them back. It's also important to recognize whether you are rejecting or filtering out the love others are extending to you during these cycles. Sometimes, the most cruel person in your life is yourself. It's time to reconnect with the web of life and loving.

Some of the problems with any planet moving through Capricorn are related to a belief that the more outward achievements we have, the more loveable that makes us. “If I get the top grades - that promotion - marriage to so-&-so,” like that. Sort of a social-climbing vibe. Integrity shouldn’t be equated with high worldly status.

Another problem happens when we insist on doing things “the way we’ve always done them.” That kind of thinking brought on the US’s “Dust Bowl” in the 1930s - an insistence on using farming techniques that weren’t suitable or sustainable for that climate and environment.

And there’s always the stench of government/corporate control, in this sign.

Procreative sexuality, parenting, children, family - the so-called “traditional family values” with the white straight men in charge. Trying to “keep up with the Joneses” - also makes me think of those appalling “neighborhood covenants” in the US, where (for example) you can’t have a clothesline, or paint your house any color but beige, and so forth.

Child & elder care, nurturing professions - regimentation, following the rules, going up the “proper” chain of command. Sort of a perfunctory, general approach without giving much (if any) thought to individual needs.

Agriculture, growing cycles, food - “agribusiness” coming into focus. Could be some issues with hoarding.

Concern for domesticated animals - not so much just puppies and kitties, but piggies and chickens and cows as well. Concern with the “factory farm” approach, not just the meat “production” (UGH) but the puppy mills, etc.

Most of the aspects Ceres makes will happen with the personal planets and the other Lady Asteroids - therefore most of the work to be done will be on a personal level. “Think globally, act locally.” (The exception is Ceres squaring Chiron, which I’ll discuss in the list of aspects.) As we move through these aspects, we should give progressively longer “leeways” on either side of the dates. Perhaps allow a few days for the first one, and up to a week for the last.

Tuesday, March 12 - Ceres/Capricorn trine Juno Rx/Pisces, 11°21’. Starting off with good intentions, anyway! A lot of mutual caring and concern. “Let’s get through this together.”

Saturday, March 16 - Ceres/Capricorn square Mercury/Aries, 12°27’. First of three - due to Mercury’s retrograde cycle. Be alert for problems with communicating your own needs, and listening to others. Probably not a brand-new problem or situation.

Saturday, March 23 - Ceres/Capricorn sextile Venus/Pisces, 14°08’. Can be a good time to get pregnant, so if that isn’t on your agenda then triple-wrap that thing. Very creative energy. We want to pretty up our homes.

Sunday, March 31 - Ceres/Capricorn square North Node/Aries and South Node/Libra, 16°05’. Problems around taking care of ourselves and our own needs, versus taking care of other people to “keep the peace.” If you habitually deny yourself, it comes back to bite you in the butt.

Saturday, April 6 - Ceres/Capricorn square Sun/Aries, 17°26’. Who’s the boss? We really want to be independent and not bound by familial/tribal expectations.

Tuesday, April 16:

Ceres/Capricorn square Mercury Rx/Aries, 19°11’

Ceres/Capricorn sextile Mars/Pisces, 19°12’

The second Ceres-Mercury square, but this time there’s a helpful sextile to Mars. (Also a fertile sextile, so watch out for that.) We can listen compassionately.

Sunday, April 21 - Ceres/Capricorn square Venus/Aries, 19°52’. If you need a break, ask for one! It’s okay to take some time off. Similarly, the person being taken care of could get a little testy about it.

Wednesday, April 24 - Ceres/Capricorn square Chiron/Aries, 20°22’. First of three. Look for the imbalances between self-care, and how much you take care of others. It isn’t necessarily us being the heroic super-nurturer - sometimes we don’t pull our own weight.

Tuesday, May 7 - Ceres/Capricorn square Mercury/Aries, 21°21’. Third of three. By now we should be expressing our needs in a clear, straightforward way.

Saturday, May 11 - Ceres/Capricorn trine Sun/Taurus, 21°30’. We identify strongly with our familial/tribal role, and we want practical, effective ways to carry out those responsibilities. We can use this to set realistic intentions going into Ceres’ actual retrograde.

[nichestartrekkie0-0]

Do Aenar have pets?

Ooh!! Yay thanks for the ask :))

Short answer yes! Long answer under the cut!

Not a shred of this is canon- as per usual haha :))

Yes and there's a few! Dogs are the main pets, with there being only a few breeds common in the Northern Wastes (They're mainly fishing/hunting/companion dogs so they're big) there's cat-like animals too! 'Tesh' is my conlang word for dog and 's'siiyan' is cat! Rabbits are common-ish as well as tame foxes- but they're more on the 'special' side. Dogs and cats have jobs like hunting or pest control, and foxes and rabbits are more emotional-support or therapy animals.

[There's also a saying about rabbits that leads them to be kinda unlucky- "Rabbits do not fare well amongst dogs" or "Tug'ge n'deq'fe sii'atii sheb'ibii tesh" or commonly "Tugge n'deq sheb tesh" and can mean many many different things- eg. Aenar are supposed to be isolationist due to their passive nature- or eg. kind-hearted people do poorly in stressful or dangerous situations or eg. empathy can be dangerous. It's a somewhat old phrase and kind of pessimistic.]

Birds like falcons/large prey birds are considered hard to tame but incredibly useful and lucky! Weasels or ferret-like animals are considered the luckiest!

There's not a huge pet market, but most Aenar stores carry some form of pet food. (all stores are small businesses and independently owned, there's no large industry in the Aenar territories- which makes things a little harder to get and there are a lot longer wait times for special-order items like eg. handmade clothes or dishware) Pet stores don't really exist, you have to go to a pet person/supplier or know someone who already has a pet to gain one. The Aenar live in tune with the environment, so just grabbing a random rabbit or weasel or street dog and taking it home is a big no-no.

Pets are pretty pampered even if they have jobs, they're the final member of the family and get treated with respect. Cushy dog beds and good food are staples of the normal pet experience. Animal cruelty is a jailable and deeply dishonorable offense, especially against dogs and/or smaller animals who cannot defend themselves.

Children are taught to treat animals with kindness and respect and are just like any other kid in the galaxy. (Every time they pass a pet dealer/person they ask if they can get another/new dog) Children are not expected to have pets until they are older though; 10-14 yrs old. If the parents get the pet any sooner, they are expected to take the brunt of the responsibility.

Stray or wild dogs are common in the city, but everyone feeds them/shelters them often so they don't really have much to worry about. There's shelters for these 'city dogs' in local communities. Basically, they're simple shelters with heat, food, and water that the dogs/cats can return to at night, kind of like a chicken coop. If there is a dog/cat/animal with a medical condition or that is in poor shape, there is always someone willing to take the dog away from the street life. (Although most of the animals are certainly over-fed from the marketplace peddlers)

I think that's all I got on pets, but if you have any other questions, feel free to ask!! Thanks!! <3

[hyperlexichypatia]

In your recent post about conservative talking points circulating in leftist spaces you mentioned the idea that "growing your own food is possible desirous and virtuous" I'm curious about this as a physically disabled person who grew up in a local agriculture heavy area, going to farmers markets and coops and the like with people who pushed this viewpoint HEAVILY, and now seeing (as a low-income disabled adult) how incredibly financially, physically, and time-exhaustive this way of life is for even having a few animals or just a garden, and how inaccessible this is to folks living in less rural areas this is for like everyone around me wondering if you'd be willing to discuss this more and the implications of it, maybe including the harm that it does? (I hope I'm not coming across as judgy or demanding here, I'm actually so happy to hear someone challenge this notion for the first time in my life)

Not judgey or demanding at all! Also, this reply got deleted three times while I was writing it, because my touchpad is borked, so apologies for any incoherence or missed proofreading or typos or general bad writing.

So the main problems with "grow your own food" ideology are related to the economy of scale. It's just much, much more efficient to have a few large farms with large farming equipment producing large quantities of crops than for each household to produce enough food to support itself, or even for every neighborhood/community/village to produce enough food to support itself. The shift from small to large scale farming has led to vast increases in crop output.

Of course, there are a lot of problems with large-scale farming as it is currently practiced. Workers are underpaid, overworked, often in horrible conditions. Equipment and pesticides and chemicals pollute. Shipping the products around the world takes fuel and carbon emissions. Farm animal living conditions are horrific. I'm not at all trying to deny or minimize the problems with large-scale industrial farming as it currently exists. But that does not mean that complete decentralization is a viable solution. On the contrary, fewer, larger farms can be more sustainable than more, smaller ones.

We definitely need some decentralization of farming, to reduce the energy expenditure of global crop shipping. A sustainable global food strategy has to include both large farms and small farms. But that is a far, far cry from complete decentralization to the household level or even the neighborhood/community level.

But I'm not an expert on agricultural policy. Frankly I don't know much about it at all. So I'm not here to talk about that. I'm here to talk about what I do know about: Food-moralizing culture. Because food-moralizing culture, not genuine well-meaning concern for the environment or farmhand working conditions, is the underpinning of "grow your own food" culture.

I say this because while there are environmental and labor problems with every industrial production of every necessary good, radical decentralization to the household level is not a widespread proposed solution (outside of like, fringe anarcho-primitivist subcultures) to other forms of problematic industrial production.

Like, industrial clothing production is atrocious! It needs to be radically changed! And almost everyone involved in advocacy for this necessary change is advocating different, better kinds of clothing factories. More worker control, fewer dangerous chemicals, more durable goods. With relatively few exceptions, most advocates are not advocating "Every individual household, all around the world, should spin, weave, and sew their own clothing."

The actual literal Luddites did not advocate that. Their entire position was rooted in being specialized, skilled craftspeople in a society that already had specialization of labor!

(I realize that I am saying this on Tumblr, The Home Of Fringe Craftspeople [at least it's not Instagram], and should this post break containment, I will get a lot of responses of "Well actually my friends and I all spin our own wool" -- great, I love that for you! Sincerely, I hope everyone gets to practice the art/craft/creativity/etc that brings them joy! That's a niche hobby, not a large scale political movement actively opposed to food justice and disability justice the way the grow-your-own-food movement is.)

You don't see large-scale political movements for "Everyone should forge their own iron" or "Everyone should carve their own wood" or "Everyone should lay their own bricks." And these things would even be technically more feasible than "Everyone should grow their own food," because they're not reliant on things like weather and soil conditions, or quantities of land. You see some smaller scale things like the "maker movement" or "nobility of working with your hands," but they're as likely to be focused on repair and other kinds of manual labor than on completely individualized generation of product from scratch.

So why are we relentlessly propagandized to all grow our own food? Well, according to me, because of food-moralizing culture. The belief that there are virtuous food and unvirtuous foods, and virtuous and unvirtuous ways of eating. That there's some kind of moral virtue in laboring and suffering for your food, and that the purest virtue is in enjoying that suffering. This is where the ableism is a feature, not a bug. Advocates will openly say that their movement doesn't have to be disability-inclusive, because the point is that if everyone "grew their own food" and ate a "natural healthy diet," no one would be disabled.

I would at least respect the movement a little more if advocates framed it as a sacrifice, like "For the greater good, everyone must take up agriculture," instead of pretending that we're all supposed to enjoy it.

I would also respect it a little more if most of the people who advocated it actually did grow most of their own food. Farmers at least, as self-righteous about Agrarian Virtue as they can be, are doing actual food-growing work, and actually are aware of the intense difficulty and commitment involved in doing it. But most of the people -- at least from my anecdotal observation -- who promote and brag about "growing their own food" absolutely do not grow their own food. They supplement their groceries with some homegrown fare. Which is fine. But it is not agricultural self-sufficiency, by a long shot. They also, by and large, aren't saving any money by doing so. Which is also fine. What's not fine is using your hobby as an excuse to deny material resources to people who need them.

Like, in my analogy of a large-scale movement of an everyone-should-make-their-own-clothes-from-scratch movement, they would be the equivalent of people screaming about how no one should have access to off-the-rack clothes, they should make their own clothes from scratch, like we do! And then what most of the people saying that mean is that they buy off-the-rack clothes and attach their own buttons. You're not really doing it either.

And the thing is, I'm glad that some people truly enjoy agricultural labor! I wish agriculture were more accessible as a career to anyone who wanted to do it! Not only because I want everyone to be able to do the kind of work they enjoy, but, purely selfishly, I do need to eat food, so someone needs to grow it!

If we all want an economic system without exploitation or coercion, while still ensuring that all the necessary work still gets done, we have to actively support everyone's desire to contribute to society in whatever way best suits them! The world needs farmers, and the world also needs plumbers, electricians, teachers, writers, and lots of other jobs! But that requires being part of a society. It requires division and specialization of labor.

This answer is entirely too long. I'm sorry about that. I have a lot of feelings about how much I hate Food Culture.

[whatgaviiformes]

September Prompts 24. Harvest Moon With Chicken Dad - pre story

I cheated and you totally got this in advance....

But for everyone else:

Summary: a broken man, a maran, and the moon.

Genre: it's fluff, I promise. if you squint

Characters: Gordon Tracy, John Tracy

Words: 1.7K

Ao3 if you are so inclined. I started an "Adventures of Chicken Dad" series

Full Moon Rising

“I don’t know what I am doing, you know,” he tells the small creature. The laugh bubbles out of him with a bite of hysteria and an overwhelming exhilaration towards the feathered being that represents something new. At the Sheridan farm, some of the chicks had been like small fluffballs in his palm, but this one, at just a manner of months old, has the look of the hen she will grow to be. She fits in one hand still, and a miniature set of eyes looks up at him with curiosity. “I promise,” he tells her, petting the soft dark chocolate feathers on her back, “even though I am new at this, I will make sure you have a loved, fulfilled life. We’ll get you a nice coop outside and some friends. You’ll be cared for.”

There was a part of him that still feels silly having somewhat spontaneously decided to start his own chicken flock after touring the local homestead. But there was no one he was really trying to impress, no one except the chick he already loved with his whole heart. All those young baby chicks had been so small and delicate that he’d been scared when he was holding them. But she felt strong in his grasp, the dark feathered youth with the orange spark in her eyes and copper running down her head and neck. A Black Copper Maran, the woman told him.

She said chickens were an investment at first, and they certainly weren’t “free eggs” as some people would tell you, but in the end outdoor chickens were relatively easy care since the coop could be coordinated as self-sustaining. Food, water, shelter, protection from predators, a bi-weekly change of the nesting material, and twice a year a larger cleaning of the coop. Easy.

A few more pointers to keep them healthy, and she’d given him her number for any questions he might have. Don’t let them get too hot. Keep them dry if it gets too wet. Give them enough space; they preferred not being so confined.

He understood that. He’d bought all this space for the same reason. It would be easy to get her set up with a whole run if she wanted, something that was not too big, not too small. He feels a bit like her in this small house by the sea. It is larger than a fishing shack, though that’s what he calls it anyway with its few rooms, and the ever-present spray of the waves below.

So near the edge. He swallows past the dryness in his throat, counts a controlled exhale, and re-focuses.

“As I said, I’m Gordon, and I’m your chicken dad, I suppose.” The floor is not the best place for him to be sitting, and he stretches his legs out along the creaky wood of the small seaside home. When that does little to relieve the pain in his back and leg, he groans and rolls to his side, grabbing the seat of the chair nearby to help lift himself back into a better sitting position. It was the least graceful he could be getting up off the floor, but he is pretty sure the chicken won’t blackmail him.

He hates being further away from the creature he’d hoped to comfort as she considered her new space and the new face, but her curiosity towards him is stronger than her desire to look around the home. She walks toward him.

That’s his girl.

“We need to get you a name. What strikes your fancy, sweetheart?” he croons, lowering a hand towards her, which she nuzzles with her beak.

She trills an answer.

“Sorry, I don’t speak chicken yet, but we’ll work on it.”

~*~

She settles into his hold, protected by just the one arm so the other can focus on supporting himself with his cane as he walks through the small garden of herbs.  They spent the afternoon bonding, and she’s been at his side in a small makeshift pen, watching him assemble the vegetable stew that will be his dinner. His only stipulation for the inquiring eyes was that she should understand that he’s still figuring out the learning curve for cooking for only one person instead a family of eight, and he asked her not to judge him for his proportions. As such, he’s out of rosemary.

In his cupboard he is out of rosemary.

In his garden, the herb is plentiful. His last harvest he took about a third of the plant to give the rest time to continue to produce, so there will be new stems for him to trim fresh. She’d looked up at him with such interest he couldn’t bear to leave her alone in the house, and if he had to be honest with himself, the company was welcome.

Over the hill, the sea chants her hush, and he tightens the grip on the little chicken as he walks through rows of seasonal fruits and vegetables and into the herb garden – some in the ground, and others in grow pots. Once the house is ready, he’ll be able to transport them inside for the winter. He doesn’t have the space in the shack.

“What do you think? Should we put your coop over here by the garden?” he asks her. “Or maybe over towards the pond and you can befriend the ducks.” He points with his cane towards a place in the distance, over land so expansive he isn’t sure what he can do with it all, and it scans past the skeleton foundations of the rancher being built on the land, and the frame of its only floor. That is intentional so he’ll have minimal steps in the space that’s to be his refuge. The construction workers have all gone at this time of day and so the building stands empty amidst the fields.

His heart pounds; he wants to fill it, to turn the house into a home and rebuild.

The young chicken purrs and he looks down at the slowly drifting eyes, feeling her flutter in his arms. “Sorry, honey. I’ll be fast.”

The snips rest heavily in the pocket of his cardigan, and awkwardly he shifts his cane under his armpit so he can cut the sprigs of rosemary once he reaches the plant. He feels silly again. It’s a two-handed task, and his body has already been rebelling at the treatment from the afternoon so kneeling down makes him feel every piece of metal screwed into his bones.

As the groan slides past his lips, the chicken jumps – not out of his arms, but onto his shoulder where she messes with his hair, and he laughs, as she re-settles.

“Thanks.”

He makes quick work of the rosemary, and stumbles back through the uneven dirt of his garden, this time with the chicken on his shoulder, an array of herbs in his free hand, and the light of the full moon casting an orange glow where the first stars of night speckled past the dusk. He’d always known the moon based on her force on the tides, but here, now, he watches her as a different man. She is light, the last bit at the start of night where she gives more time to the harvest.

He smiles up at her. The moon is the turn of tides, the change of seasons, the light of the harvest. He is just one of many farmers in the course of history to gather by the moonlight. He won’t be the last.

Days will get shorter and the frost will eventually wipe his lush garden clean.

But it will begin again.

He can do it too; he will begin again.

“Your uncle is up there,” he says, looking to the sky. It all must be so expansive to the little chicken, and he wonders what the world looks like to her, what it must be like from her perspective to see the sphere come and go and color the earth in amber. He maneuvers the sprigs of herbs into his pocket (he’ll clean them when he gets in) and takes a photo on his phone, sending it off to John on Five. 

His older brother was the first to explain to him the significance of the full moon nearest the change of seasons when they were younger and would appreciate the view from planetside. Between her hue and her size, she is magic, and he gets it now, the beauty of the celestial body that is powerful enough to move even the treacherous sea. 

There’s a full moon rising

The little chicken shifts on his shoulder, and he’s staring up into the starlight and a suspiciously resonating satellite crosses the night sky when the call comes in; the phone is still open in his hand.

“Gordon,” John says. “You sounded lonely.”

He doesn’t know how John can do that, can read emotion through written words. He’ll say it's his familiarity with the nuances of language, but Gordon doesn’t think that’s enough of an explanation for the subtleties of the human heart.

“I’m not,” he tells him, thoughtfully. “Not really.”

There are times he feels a ghost of himself, walking along the fields without direction and cut off from the pull of his heart, creaking as loudly as the shack in the wind, and as empty as the outlined walls of the buildings on his estate.

This is not one of those times.

“Are you ok?” John asks, and the chicken leans forward towards the strange hologram of his brother. “What is that?”

“Who,” he corrects, nudging her back. “This is your chicken niece.”

“A chicken! Gordon!”

He nods.

“Her name is Mocha,” he tells him, thinking of the blend of dark brown in her feathers, the sugary sweet version of the coffee Vi- his brothers would make for him in the heat of the Island summer, all whipped cream and cocoa powder and cold brew. And it’s not so much longing this time, or remembering what he lost, but acknowledging the little things that make him happy. Old things like iced mocha and cute animals and house plants and cooking. New things like the color of ochre, and the moon and stars, and the tang of freshly snipped spice on his tongue, and the rows of crops on his land, and the sheer feat of walking.

The responsibility of the little life on his shoulder.

Because it’s the little joys that will carry him through his own change of seasons and out the other side.

He’ll find his heart again.

[ready2see]

Coming from Lithuania, a country known for its greenery, I have always had a special passion for nature. As a child I would often help my family in our summer home garden, or accompany them in forest foraging. When I moved to London 4 years ago, the disconnect between people and wildlife seemed acute. I felt strongly about human/nature bonds and how they enrich our lives, and felt determined to embrace this in London. Since then I have been thoroughly committed to finding ways to connect with nature by immersing myself in community based projects that share my hopes and views; an urban life amongst nature is not only possible, it is necessary. Communities thrive on knowledge-sharing, mutual support and a joint mission to care, in this case, for our land and its residents. I started my horticulture journey during the national lockdown by volunteering at my then local community mutual aid and gardening group, The Field New Cross. I quickly fell in love with their passion for community building via learning from each other, inspiring and nourishing eachother with art, protest and home grown vegetables! I took on the responsibility of helping organize and run volunteer food parcel deliveries during the pandemic, administering delivery schedules, enforcing COVID-19 regulations during pick-up and delivery as well as organizing contents of food parcels to ensure a nutritionally dense and fulfilling package. I was also working in the food garden and illustrating for the monthly newsletter. After moving to Peckham, I was determined to put my energy into something similar in the local community, so I joined OK Grow, a Southwark Council funded project geared towards the support of the residents of Aylesbury Estate’s Penbroke House. I worked with the head grower as we planted, grew and distributed food in mutual aid groups and charities such as Peckham Pantry. Our aim was to encourage community engagement and empowerment;  we worked with council house residents to get involved in food growing, one

on one teaching of planting and plant care, which attracted many children who were otherwise playing in the outside areas of the estate. Their curiosity and determination to  learn and help inspired me; I understood then that I want to work with children in this capacity as they are the ones to carry the wisdom of the earth into the future. At this time I also volunteered at Glengall Wharf Community Garden, where I took care of the rescue chicken coop and partook in their weekly gardening and DIY sessions. 

Despite not holding any official horticulture qualifications yet, I believe I would make a great fit  for the gardening educator role  as my extensive volunteering in mutual aid & gardening communities has given me an array of practical skills such as food growing, community action organization & project management and having worked at managerial hospitality roles for many years I have acquired leadership and team building skills that would undoubtedly aid in working with groups of children looking to learn from and get inspired to work outdoors. Through my bachelors degree I have excelled in research/analysis and project completion, as well as developing  productive time management and work/life balance skills which will enable me to put together a curriculum on whatever scale is needed and execute it creatively with mindfulness to each specific group.

[leedsvegboxuk]

Why Choose Leeds Bread Coop for Your Daily Loaf?

Bread Distribution for All Occasions It is vital for bread lovers to have access to high-quality baked foods. Enjoying newly baked bread without leaving your home is now calmer than ever thanks to the many neighborhood bakeries in Leeds that proposal Bread Delivery Leeds. These services offer a range of choices to fit your preferences, even if you are more into whole grain, sourdough, or specialty breads. Encouraging Regional Cooperatives A great way to enjoy handmade bread and strengthen community ties is to become a member of a bread coop. Members of these cooperatives can work together to produce bread, guaranteeing that everyone has access to freshly baked loaves produced nearby. Members have a stronger sense of camaraderie and the local economy benefits from support for such activities.

Local Fruit And Veg Delivery Choosing local produce delivery for your food is an investment in your well-being and a supporter of sustainable methods. In order to guarantee that your product reaches your door promptly and in optimal condition, a number of nearby greengrocers and farmers provide direct delivery services. In addition to saving time, this lessens the carbon footprint that comes with long-distance freight transportation.

[middymatthews]

With warmer weather finally here, it's the perfect time to get outside and explore all that Whitmore Lake has to offer! Here are my top recommendations for making the most of spring in 2024: Take in the scenic views while hiking the trails at Kensington Metropark. The park has over 6 miles of hiking trails for all skill levels. The peaceful Wilderness Trail loop is ideal for an easy hike, while the Mountain Bike Trail challenges experienced hikers with 13 miles of rugged terrain. Stroll through downtown Whitmore Lake and visit the local shops and restaurants. Grab an iced coffee, do some shopping, and enjoy the sunshine. Rent a kayak or canoe and spend a day paddling on the Huron River. There's no better way to experience the natural beauty of springtime than from the river. Check out the Spring Festival in May and the Summer Solstice Festival in June. These community festivals feature live music, crafts, food, and family-friendly activities. After being cooped up all winter, spring is the season to get outside in Whitmore Lake. I hope you'll take advantage of the hiking, boating, shopping, and festivals this area has to offer. Enjoy!​ Looking for ways to enjoy the spring weather in Whitmore Lake? Here are my top 10 things to do this spring: 1. Take a hike at Kensington Metropark. With over 6 miles of trails, you can't go wrong. The Wilderness Trail is perfect for beginners. 2. Rent a kayak or canoe and paddle along the Huron River. There's no better way to spend a sunny day than out on the water. 3. Check out the lineup at the Riverfront Park Amphitheater. They have live music all spring and summer long. 4. Explore the shops and restaurants downtown. Grab an ice cream cone and do some window shopping. 5. Visit the farmers market on Saturday mornings. Support local growers and find fresh produce, meats, cheeses, and other homemade goods. 6. Go biking on the recreation path. Rent a bike and cycle through the parks, wetlands, and neighborhoods. 7. Check out a show at the historic Dawn Theater. They feature musical guests, comedians, and other live acts. 8. Visit the Whitmore Lake Historical Society Museum to learn about the area's history. 9. Catch a baseball game at the Whitmore Lake High School field. Cheer on the local team! 10. Sit by the lake and enjoy a picnic in the sunshine. A perfect simple pleasure​ Now that spring has sprung in Whitmore Lake, there are so many fun activities to enjoy with family and friends. Get outside and breathe in that fresh spring air! Take a stroll through the blooming flowers at Kensington Metropark or rent a paddleboard and hit the water. Visit the farmers market to pick up some ingredients for a picnic lunch on the shores of the lake. And don't forget about the great live music and shows happening all around town. Springtime in Whitmore Lake is a wonderful time to reconnect with your community and make memories that will last all year long. Get out and explore - you won't regret it!

[chickencoopny]

Chicken Coop: Fried Chicken Catering in Somers, Putnam County, NY

Chicken Coop's fried chicken is made with fresh, never-frozen chicken that is brined for 24 hours before it is fried. This results in juicy, flavorful chicken with a crispy, golden brown crust. Chicken Coop offers a variety of different flavors of fried chicken, including original, Nashville hot, and sweet and spicy. They also have a great selection of sides, like mac and cheese, collard greens, and cornbread.

In addition to fried chicken, Chicken Coop also offers a variety of other dishes, such as burgers, salads, and sandwiches. They also have a full bar with a variety of beers, wines, and cocktails.

Chicken Coop's catering menu is extensive and can be customized to fit any event. They offer platters of fried chicken, as well as individual pieces of chicken that can be served with a variety of sides. They also offer a variety of desserts, such as pies, cakes, and cobblers.

If you are looking for delicious fried chicken catering in Somers, Putnam County, NY, then Chicken Coop is the perfect choice. They offer a variety of flavors and sides to choose from, and their catering menu is sure to please everyone at your event.

About Chicken Coop

Chicken Coop is a family-owned and operated restaurant located in Somers, Putnam County, NY. They have been serving up delicious fried chicken and other comfort foods since 2015. Chicken Coop is known for their fresh, never-frozen chicken that is brined for 24 hours before it is fried. This results in juicy, flavorful chicken with a crispy, golden brown crust. Chicken Coop also offers a variety of other dishes, such as burgers, salads, and sandwiches. They also have a full bar with a variety of beers, wines, and cocktails.

Chicken Coop is a great place to go for a casual meal with friends and family. They also offer catering, making them a great option for parties, weddings, and other events.

If you're looking for delicious fried chicken in Putnam County, NY, then you need to check out Chicken Coop. You won't be disappointed!

Chicken Coop's Commitment to Quality

Chicken Coop is committed to using only the freshest ingredients in their food. Their chicken is never frozen, and their sides are made from scratch daily. They also use a variety of local vendors, which helps to support the local economy.

Chicken Coop is also committed to providing excellent customer service. Their staff is friendly and knowledgeable, and they are always happy to help you choose the perfect meal.

If you are looking for a delicious and satisfying meal, then Chicken Coop is the perfect place for you. They offer a variety of dishes to choose from, and their commitment to quality is second to none.

[adalidda]

Illustration Photo: Manioc drying during a workshop on manioc transformation held in Yangambi - Congo DRC (credits: Axel Fassio/CIFOR-ICRAF / Flickr Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 2.0 Generic (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0))

NextWorldNow Community Investments — Community Grants 2023

We invest in and support community development projects requiring modest capital.  We fund projects that are owned by the local community, whose social impact and return on investment can be measured, and whose success can be sustained.   In the spirit of innovation, we aim for a diverse "portfolio" of projects and geographies to spread creative solutions.  

We work to discover and apply best practice social investment models on a small scale personal level.  Our process invites ongoing direct connection with the sponsored community rather than an anonymous one-time donation.  We believe it is possible to invest in projects that increase the wellbeing of communities while avoiding unintended harm.   We operate with minimal overhead and a goal of funneling nearly 100% of grant resources to the intended community project.  

Projects funded to date:

Ukraine (2022) - skill training for Roma women: professional sewing and entrepreneurship, psychosocial support

Ghana (2022) - ecotourism:  development of visitor center at local natural resource area (waterfalls and caves)

Tanzania (2022) - agronomic and business training for biofortified crop production

Nicaragua (2021) - water system enhancement for small rural community, solar pumps

Rwanda (2021) - food processing center for women's coop farmers

Suriname (2020) - local fish farm for food security and commercial marketing

Ecuador (2020) - electronic medical record (EMR) for a rural health clinic

Columbia (2019) - "vertical farming" urban agribusiness prototype

Zimbabwe (2019) - commercial tea and medicinal products from Resurrection plant  

Uganda (2018) - low pressure drip irrigation system using drought resistant seed crops

Philippines (2018) - taro root cultivation and processing for commercial sales (taro chips)

Mongolia (2017) - greenhouses to support seasonal food production and produce marketing

India (2017) - skill training: silk weaving, reeling, embroidery, and business management

Kenya (2016) - solar powered computer lab for rural community school, students & adult learners

Zambia (2015) - four rural health clinic facilities for expecting mothers

Application Deadline: March 1, 2023

Check more https://adalidda.com/posts/wzto2RN2qReNmXfc2/nextworldnow-community-investments-community-grants-2023/call

[anti-workshop]

Holy shit ok we're back. Man we're dealing with a lot over here but some of it is potentially really exciting. Hot shops are heating up. Marches on the boss are chalking up wins. We're close to being able to do high quality, full color, eco friendly stickers, banners, posters, stuff like that.

We're also expanding September 1st, which is terrifying and exciting.

We're also in talks with our other labor council to potentially get a special bargaining agreement and local devoted to worker owned co-ops. Anyone curious, look into VALU coop in Canada and the work they're doing with the ACWU.

SO! If your organizing campaign or GMB or IUB or community garden or food not bombs or IWOC or tenants union or band or WHATEVER needs custom merch, please reach out. We need money and we will cut you a good rate.

Buy merch at anti-work.shop to support campaigns and our union worker co-op incubator. We're back!

PLEASE REBLOG IT WOULD BE AMAZING!

[whatgaviiformes]

Fic: Tracy Seaside Orchard and Farm - Part 5

Summary: Alternate Universe. Gordon is a farmer. And he seems to have nothing to do with International Rescue. Now on AO3!

From the Beginning

Prologue here

Chapter 1: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  | Ao3

Chapter 2: Part 4 | Part 5 (you are here)  | NEW LINK AO3

A/N: Gordon recommends you have your emotional support chicken handy... (i have no pet chickens) ****

Gordon’s home was in the northeast corner. In the back of the house near the guest room, there was a door to the back porch with a deck that led down to his personal, seasonal food garden. The front of the house opened up immediately to the orchard trees cleanly planted in rows down the main stone pathway that led to the chicken coop and barn yard.  The latter section was the fraction that Virgil had encountered on the journey from the landing pad to his home, and much of that was the original concept of the estate. 

Gordon’s passion project had always started with the orchard and farm, but it had expanded over the years, especially as he brought in more staff who came with their own ideas.

“The goal of the estate is to be as self-sustaining as possible,” Gordon explained from the driver’s side of the small, yellow, open buggie he kept stored in the shed by his backyard garden for his bad knee days. “So you’re going to see a lot today.”

Virgil was quiet as he’d ever been the last few minutes. Once they’d finished their meal, Gordon showed Virgil where to add his banana peel to his kitchen food bin on the counter. The larger compost was outside, and they passed by it quickly after Gordon introduced his garden.

“And if we don’t do it here, there’s someone in town who does. We don’t buy anything mass produced unless we have to,” Gordon continued, not really sure if he completely had Virgil’s full attention.  “And after a lot of research first to make sure its environmentally friendly and ethically sourced.”

Gordon shifted in his seat. The buggie was sleek, designed to be able to navigate the narrow corners of the farm, and he chosen it today because he knew better than to try to convince Virgil to take the hoverchair. The part he hadn’t planned for was the expanse of his brother’s frame. It was the closest he’d been to his brother in a long time, and Virgil’s shoulders brushed his own, even despite the space he tried to give him. 

Since Virgil had passed parts of the farm already, he started him off west of his home where he maintained varieties of local flower for the butterflies and other natural pollinators of the region and rows of beehives nearby, the apiaries for honey production, his preferred natural sweetener.

"We'll head to the greenhouses next. We have four, and they are divided by grow zone. This way we can harvest year round." He drove slowly past them, continuing to recite what kind of conditions were mimicked inside and the various plants grown in each.

“We dabble in a few artisan trades. Scraps – you’ll meet her later – she does some micro-brewing. And I do wine and mead.” His eyes gleamed talking about it, though he continued to look where he was going instead of at Virgil staring off into space. Usually when people toured the farm, he had more of their attention. “We are known for our strawberry wine.”

He drove them towards the edge of the estate where the land dropped off with a cliffside that led to the sea below and pointed to a small, refurbished shed.

“This building used to be the original fishing shack. It was the only thing here at the time, and there were steps that led down to the beach front,” he explained. “We have an elevator that takes you down now, and there’s a dock and fishing pier at the bottom. Plus the beach if you are so inclined.”

“You must enjoy that,” Virgil muttered to his empty right side.

Gordon coughed.

“Why don’t we step out and stretch here?”  He turned off the vehicle, flinging on the safety brake just in case, and jumped down, swinging himself from the pole to his left. His knees caught him with barely a twinge as he landed among the grass and strode purposefully towards the fence that protected them from the cliff drop.

He looked down at his feet and with a heavy sigh, swung in gaze upward to the open sea. Her rolling waves. She was, as always, beautiful. Virgil grunted behind him, the thud of footsteps, and then he felt a weight settle along the metal frame a bit away from him. Gordon knew he probably should keep talking, fill the silence with something. He could talk on and on about all they’d accomplished, but having to treat his words like glass, carefully sifting through what was most surface level and safe, was exhausting and one sided.

With kids, there’d be more jokes and smiles, making them feel at ease and comfortable in the natural world as she offered herself to them. With adults, it was more educational, a plea disguised as an informative tour showing them what the world had to offer if they treated her right.

With Virgil, it had never been a question of if Virgil’s heart was in the right place. And years ago, this tour would’ve been easy. Virgil would’ve been laughing along with his jokes and nodding along with the things that obviously brought him joy, his inner engineer already working to figure out how it worked or how to make it better, even if he didn’t understand. Especially if he didn’t understand.

But years ago, none of this had existed. Gordon had left.

And then he rebuilt.

It wasn’t a surprise, but it hurt to have hit Virgil’s walls. Virgil’s heart, for all that made him gentle and open, was also easily shattered.

It was to be expected. It was what he deserved.

The least he could do was avoid pushing, even if it meant the words he wanted to say stayed crystalline in his own throat.

A distant bark pulled him out of his musings and reminded him it was easy to get stiff standing for too long too.

“I’ve kept you long enough.” Gordon plastered on a smile. “Let’s go meet the animals.”

He whistled, knowing Skipper would hear and come running. The wheat fields swayed with the movement of camouflaged yellow lab before a black nose poked out between the stalks and a scramble of four legs landed sitting properly in front of him.

“Hop on, girl.”  He pat the back of the cart where there was space for her to sit, then introduced her to Virgil, rubbing behind her ears in hello. Virgil, as he’d learned to do at any early age, held out his hand for the dog to sniff. “She’s mine, but she’s allowed to roam. She’ll adopt you in no time.”

Virgil pulled his hand back.

“Where to next?” he asked firmly.

Gordon was already a careful driver, and the buggie didn’t move fast in the first place, but he eased on his turns, both for the sake of his brother who was looking a little green around the edges and for the dog in the back. He drove them past the duckpond and swung around towards the coop he’d already visited once that morning.

“Here we are. Chicken coop.”

Virgil eased down from the buggie, and Gordon opened up the fenced in enclosure.  

As was typical, TaterTot and Tabetha immediately crowded around his ankles, nudging, looking for food as he stepped inside. They were an inquisitive set. Mocha fluttered her chocolate feathers innocently. She was fine with newcomers, but she adored when Gordon was around, and he knew by the way she stood on his feet and turned her head towards him that she wanted to be held.

He picked her up, tucking her one-handed close to his side.

“The mug queen herself,” he smiled, as he felt the dark chicken purr in his arms.  A lighter blur of color waddled past, and out through opening, moving towards Virgil, and nuzzling at his feet. “So that’s Ginger,” he introduced as Virgil sat down on the bench just outside of the enclosure. “Out of everyone, she—” the hen jumped up on Virgil’s lap and nudged his shirt, “—is most attracted to the color red.”

“Oh!”

“That’s a sign she likes you,” Gordon said, stepping around at Virgil’s intake of breath as the hen nipped at Virgil’s shirt. “She’s trying to clean. Is she ok? Do you need me to take her?”

He shook his head. “How do I hold her?”

Gordon used Mocha to show him how, shifting the bird into position where he had his dominant hand to keep her from flapping and slipping his other underneath her, correcting Virgil where his position didn’t perfectly mirror his hold. It came to his brother naturally, and his fingers stroked her neck the way she liked to be pet.

Gordon slid Mocha back to his side, where she protested as he fished his phone out of his pocket. One-handed he slid the lock screen off and selected the camera. His lifted it up where Virgil was in frame, his shoulders slightly hunched over the delicate creature in his arms, the tightness in his jaw loosened, and his eyes crinkling at the edges as Ginger nuzzled a smile out of him.

“They purr like cats,” Virgil mused, surprised, his gaze locked onto the hen content into his hold with her eyes closed.

“When they are relaxed and feel safe, yeah.” He grinned down at Mocha in his arms, pocketing his phone. His animals had been significant to healing his heart too. “It’s nice to see you looking happy, Virgil.”

“I’m not.” This time with fire, “I’m not happy.”

Gordon glanced up, dismayed to see Virgil’s eyes alight, his ears burning red, his jaw clenched in an angry foil to just a few moments before. “I just meant—"

“I’m not happy. I won’t be happy here,” Virgil snarled. The ‘with you’ went unsaid, but Gordon heard it anyway, and he flinched with the absolute disgust in Virgil’s tone.

“I’m sor—”

Virgil’s eyes blazed with fear and frustration and betrayal.  “I’m not going to be useless here, no matter what Scott thinks. So you can stop your little pitch.”

“That’s not—”

“Did you and Scott plan this? I should’ve known. Well, I’m not going to end up here.”

The increase in volume startled Skipper, and the dog barked back.

“No, I—” “I’m going to get better.”

“Of course, you are. Virgil, that’s not –”

“I will fly again.”

“Please, Virgil, you’re scaring her,” he begged, managing to get a word in while Ginger protested the tension in Virgil’s hands. “We can talk about this later,” he urged through Virgil’s heavy breathing. “Just let me have her.”

He reached for Ginger with his free hand and the bird hopped into his arms.

She left, and Gordon felt the ire seep out of his brother, the air thick and heavy, but silent despite his coos  for them to calm.

Virgil whispered, spent, “I’m not going to end up here. I just can’t.”

“That’s not what any of this is about,” he soothed, the words for his brother, but the tone for the two birds in his arms. He walked back into the enclosure and placed them safely back down, comforting them with a gentle stroke down their backs.

“Sorry,” Virgil muttered from the other side. “She ok?”

“Yes, they are fine.”

“Take me back to the house.”

“Probably for the best,” Gordon agreed. “Dr. Mendoza should be here soon anyway.”

Crestfallen and confused by just how quickly the tides turned, Gordon sunk his face into Skipper’s fur while Virgil stepped back into the passenger side of the buggie and waited silently for him.

[ready2see]

Coming from Lithuania, a country that has always been very densely forested, I've spent a ton of time in nature since I was a child. In school, we were always taught about our national classical literature that was always marked by the cross-generational appreciation and championing of our woods and hills. In the summer, my mum and grandma would take me along with them to forage blueberries, raspberries, chantarelles, boletes & collect various herbs for drying. When I moved to the UK in 2019, it was surely difficult to adjust to the vast urbanization of land. I found myself striving to reinforce my connection and involvement with wildlife; I believed one could prosper in cities alongside nature, by listening, learning and conserving. I was pleased to find many local community gardens and mutual aid groups that shared my vision and passion for conservation and eco-centric activities as a way of life in London. I volunteered at the local rescue chicken coop and helped grow food for Aylesbury Estate residents. As the years went by, my confidence in engaging with British nature grew, and since I have made an active effort to plan hikes and camping trips with my friends where we forage wild goods and learn from each other about the indigenous plants of UK's landscape. I have a big passion for soil health and believe in no-dig, no-till farming, permaculture and forest gardens and would love to pursue a career in the conservation of land for healthy, empowered communities. I wish to learn about tree and mushroom identification for optimum ecological diversity that fosters not only animal, but people's communities, too. I have found that through my interest in nature I have been able to find communities that ground and inspire me, and I wish to uphold this space for other that are passionate about our natural world.

I first took up community garden/mutual aid volunteering during lockdown in 2020 at The Field, New Cross, which was my local community garden and mutual aid group. I took on the responsibility of helping organize and run volunteer food parcel deliveries during the pandemic, administering delivery schedules, enforcing COVID-19 regulations during pick-up and delivery as well as organizing contents of food parcels to ensure a nutritionally dense and fulfilling package. I was also working in the food garden and illustrating for the monthly newsletter. After moving to Peckham, I found OK Grow, a gardening project in Aylesbury Estate funded by Southwark Council geared towards the support of the residents of Penbroke House. I worked with the head grower as we planted, grew and distributed food in mutual aid groups and charities such as Peckham Pantry. Our aim was to encourage community engagement;  we worked with council house residents to get involved in food growing, one on one teaching of planting and plant care. I also started volunteering at the Glengall Wharf chicken coop, where I took care of the rescue chickens once a week.

I currently live in Deptford, an extremely culturally and naturally diverse area of London. There are an abundance of parks and green spaces that home city-dwelling flora and fauna. The closest park to my home is the home base for a huge flock of Deptford pigeons. One can observe them resting, bathing and socializing  while strolling to the weekend market. I often watch the family of foxes that hang out in the bushes right outside my living room window. They climb the fence that supports the shrubs and rest there during the day. In the evening they come visit us in the garden; it in not unusual to spot a mother fox with a couple of her cubs. Telegraph Hill is a short walk away, where one can find great ancient oaks that create shade and shelter for the park's residents. Squirrels are amongst the most common wild creatures here- they enjoy the parks visitors and the snacks they bring with them! The small nearby pond becomes a great mini ecosystem for ducks, toads and water insects such as dragonfly nymphs and water beetles. The many Rowan trees along the residential streets in Deptford attract Magpies and Crows, too. Amongst the local plants one should mention Eglantine, many types of Fern, Laurel and of course the Chestnut, which is a common tree all across London

I have received training in first aid & posses a food health and safety level 2 qualification. I have also undergone a permaculture course at The Glengall Wharf Gardens. My extensive volunteering in mutual aid & gardening communities has given me an array of practical skills such as food growing, community action organization & project management. I have worked in managerial hospitality roles for many years through which I have acquired leadership and team building skills. Through my bachelors degree I have excelled in research/analysis and project completion, as well as developing  productive time management and work/life balance skills.

[leedsvegboxuk]

How Can You Get Quality Bread Delivered in Leeds?

It’s easier than you might think to get fresh bread delivered in Leeds. Numerous neighborhood bakeries and delivery services bring freshly baked, handcrafted bread right to your home. The Leeds Bread Coop, renowned for its handmade and organic loaves, is a good place to start. A number of nearby bakeries also provides regular delivery subscription services. You might look at services like Bread Delivery Leeds, which puts you in contact with different local suppliers. Seek out companies that have a record of accomplishment of excellence and excellent evaluations. You may have fresh, high-quality bread without leaving your house by selecting local service and supporting small companies.

Your Go-To Source for Fresh Produce in Horsforth The Horsforth Greengrocer provides an extensive variety of fresh fruits and vegetables to people who live in or near Horsforth. Renowned for its superior product that comes from reliable vendors, this local treasure is well-known for it. The greengrocer offers a dependable and practical solution for your fruit and vegetable needs, whether you are in the market for fresh snacks or dinner supplies.

Leeds’s Best Fruit and Veg Shop Leeds is home to a extensive range of produce stores that may accommodate a range of tastes and likings. These stores provide a variety of possibilities, whether you are searching for organic products or just want to help small companies in your community. Enjoying fresh food without having to leave your house is made simple by the fact that many of them provide delivery services.

Easy Services for Delivering Bread For individuals who enjoy freshly baked, handcrafted loaves, Bread Delivery Leeds provides an excellent option. This service guarantees that you will receive the greatest bread right at your door, with an emphasis on flavor and quality. Another excellent source for excellent bread is the Leeds Bread Coop, which offers sourdough and whole grain breads among other varieties. Fresh Fruit And Veg Delivery Near Me

In search of local delivery of fresh produce? Superior produce can be delivered straight to your house by a number of neighborhood businesses that provide easy delivery choices. For those who are on the go but still want to eat wholesome, fresh cuisine, this service is ideal.

Delivery Services for Local Fruits & Veggies Fresh produce is easily accessible without the inconvenience of grocery shopping thanks to local fruit and veg delivery services in Leeds. These services frequently collaborate with nearby farms and markets to offer the highest caliber goods. You have a ton of substitutes to choose from, depending on even if you essential a one-time delivery or a recurring subscription. Deliveries of Fruit and Veg Leeds: Optimal Freshness at Your Disposal The ease of internet shopping is now available in your kitchen with Fruit And Veg Delivery Leeds. You can select the service that best suits your needs and schedule from the many that are offered. Savor the convenience of having premium, freshly picked produce delivered right to your door, helping local businesses and improving your culinary adventures.

[foodieforthoughts]

Sand and Stars - Chapter Four

Series Summary: After the water pump being blown up, the insurgents in Baqubah are taking a hold of the food supply to the village. Camp Warhorse is in dire need of reinforcements. It has been eight months of submitting countless requests when the High Command commissions Sergeant Olivia Ross to take her group of men and women and help Captain Syverson and his team to restore a semblance of normalcy. But with the war raging, does it get two hearts closer too?

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC x OMC

Word Count: 1752

Warnings: 18+, slight fluff, drinking, consumption of alcohol, smut in future chapters (we are getting there!)

A/N: I loved writing this chapter. Sy is grumpy and confused, but I finally got something for him to be excited about! Thank you to @thelastsock​ again for being so helpful and beta-reading my work. Leave a comment, like or reblog and tell me what you think will happen next? Enjoy!

<Chapter Three

Title: Chapter Four

Syverson was not a man to be lingering on a woman’s attention for so long. He liked the chase, but his ego was fragile and if his attempts seemed futile, he would stop. But this time, a certain red-haired woman sat across from him had made it almost impossible to steer himself away.

Sy watched as Olivia clapped Schmidt on his chest, her head falling back as her laugh echoed in the night. She had her hand on the other man’s pecs, her body shaking with their shared joke and her face lit up like the fourth of July. Sy had noticed the bond between Olivia and her second in-command. He admired that they had an understanding, but he also desperately wanted to take Schmidt’s place in Olivia’s life.

Sy sighed, running a hand across his buzzed head and looked at the other soldiers sitting around him. It had been a whole week since the last time he had met Olivia at the gate. He really had wanted to pull her by her scarf and give her a long, ravenous kiss. But when she had turned away from him, he had felt stupid and angry at himself. Stupid because he was a grown-ass man acting like a teenage boy and angry because he had never subjected himself to devastating humiliation before.

Sy had chosen to walk away and since avoided Olivia the best he could. He had assigned separate patrolling hours so as to not run into her. He stayed put in his office most of the time or had chosen to take more trips to the village. He was trying so hard to dismiss all thoughts about  her, but she lingered in his mind despite all his efforts.  

Last night Sy had heard her voice from his adjacent room. At first, he thought he was hallucinating, conjuring her voice in addition to thoughts of her as he started to fall asleep. But then he had peered outside his room, only to spot her and the other ladies playing cards with his men. He had debated joining them, potentially walking into the trap of her entity and ruining the minimal self-control he had managed to regain. With a huge sigh and a grunt, Sy had closed the door and thrown himself on his bed before covering his ears with his pillows.

He had been successfully avoiding her for that whole week when he was informed about the party her unit had planned for her. Sy was amused to learn that it was her birthday the next day. The plan, he was told, was to have some drinks and chill on the rooftop with music until lights out. He could have stayed in his room but the urge to wish her a ‘happy birthday’ at midnight was too strong. So here he was, sitting on the floor with a glass of whiskey in his hand and watching Olivia as she spoke to her friend.

Schmidt had bumped into him with an armful of blankets to take up to the roof. “If only we could get whiskey for the Sergeant, she would be the happiest,” he had said, running up the stairs. Sy, with the new found information, had gotten a bottle of his treasured, fine Irish whiskey from his secret stash and handed it to Schmidt as soon as he had arrived on the roof.

“Come on, tell us something we don’t know.” Sy watched as one of Olivia’s men pitched in, slurring his words as he spoke while taking support of the man beside him.

Olivia was also visibly drunk, smiling sheepishly at her men. Sy noticed the flush on her skin, a faint rosy tint appearing on the apples of her cheek. Her hair was tied in a loose braid, falling over her shoulder and resting on her breast. Sy took a sip of his amber liquid as his gaze lingered on the ends of her braid caressing the soft swell of her chest with her movements.

“What do you want to know?” She asked as she placed her elbow on Schmidt’s shoulder. Sy let out a slow breath through his nostrils as he observed the close proximity of their bodies. Involuntarily, he felt his grip tighten over his glass.

“Anything from your days of being a Private!” Someone interrupted. Sy was too busy to note who was the person that spoke as he was busy following Olivia’s every move. As she began describing her days in the camp, Sy let his eyes travel down her body. She was leaning back on her hands now, with her face looking up at the sky as she reminisced about the past. They all had their fatigues on, except Sy, but she had unbuttoned the top three buttons, exposing her collar bones as she wore no t-shirt inside. Sy took a big gulp of his drink as he feasted on the minute details of her enchanting body.

“Tell us about Captain Coop!” Sloan announced from beside Sy. He turned his head looking at the blonde resting her back against her man. BJ had become a complete sucker for the woman for which Sy had had a private talk with the sergeant about the code of conduct and how he cannot throw out his bunk mates for his campsite romance.

“No!” Olivia remarked, throwing her hands up in the air. “Not him, not tonight.”

“We need some gossip to live by in this dump, Sarge.” Sierra commented from a corner, clutching her bottle of local liquor close to her body.

The mention of another captain had piqued Sy’s interest. Worry clouded his mind as he went over the idea of someone waiting for Olivia back home. He frowned at the thought and grabbed a hold of the bottle of whiskey to pour himself another drink. Sy had been so busy romanticizing himself with her, he hadn’t bothered to find out if she was single.

“Well-” Olivia started just when the lights went out. With a resounding groan, she was cut short as everyone around her stood up on their wobbly legs to wish her happy birthday. The sound of her exuberant laughter rang in Sy’s ears as her unit members enveloped her in hugs and kisses.

Sy stood away from the huddling group with his drink in hand. His men stood beside him, letting Olivia’s comrades speak first. Sy couldn’t help but smile as Olivia hugged each one of her team members with delight apparent on her face. He had noticed the way she treated her men. Unlike many from the enlisted army, Olivia viewed her unit more like her family and less like people who worked under her.

It took several minutes for the excitement to die down as people started to retreat back to their quarters. Sy stood leaning on the wall with his arms crossed over his chest as he watched everyone walk by him towards the door. Schmidt was the last one to leave but not before wrapping Olivia in a hug and then picking up the bottle of whiskey on his way out of the door.

“Aren’t you going to wish me a happy birthday, Captain?”

A whole week Sy had longed for her to address him. Seven days of absolute hell for him to ignore her yet want her. Olivia stood a few paces away from him with her hands wrapped around her body as the wind picked up. Sy pushed himself off the wall and took slow steps towards the woman who currently occupied his waking thoughts.

When he came close to her, her warmth caressed his body against the cold. She had a dopey smile on her face and her big brown eyes looked up at him with anticipation. He gulped as his gaze travelled down to her plump lips noting the sharp points of her cupid’s bow.

Olivia shivered as a strong breeze blew past them. A few strands of her hair had come loose and flew onto her face. She tried to tuck them behind her ear but Sy caught her hand instead. Her hand fell away, Sy following the movement with his eyes where his hand left hers. He gently pushed the hair away from her face, his fingertips tingling with the feel of her soft skin against his.

“I’m sorry for being rude that night,” Olivia whispered, closing the gap between their bodies with another step. Sy took a sharp breath as she plastered her body flush against his. He could feel her curves against his, marveling at how pretty she looked under the moonlight. Her eyes gleamed like liquid gold as they looked up at him.

Sy brought his other hand up to her cheek, holding her face with both of his hands. He watched as she wet her lips with her tongue and her gaze dropped down to his own.

“Are you going to kiss me?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Sy felt her hands on his waist, clutching his t-shirt in her fists.

He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to finally taste her on his lips, feel her moan into his mouth. He wanted to suck at her bottom lip until it was swollen red. But he debated with himself, his lips tingling with the anticipation of the kiss he had been dreaming about.

With a slow, shuddering breath escaping his mouth, Sy closed his eyes. He touched her forehead with his, breathing in the scent of her. She smelled like lavender, a hint of rose and whiskey too. “Not like this.” He whispered.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t want our first kiss to be like this. You shouldn't be drunk, and I shouldn't be fighting this urge.” He opened his eyes to stare into hers. “You don’t know how badly I want to kiss you, but we’ll wait for it to be memorable.”

He looked at her, waiting for her to react and expecting her to feel hurt or rejected. But she smiled back at him instead and nodded. He kissed the top of her head gently and pulled her in for a hug. Her arms couldn’t reach around his body, she laughed drunkenly as she struggled to clasp her hands behind his back. The sound of her unrestrained chuckle filled Sy with joy and a satisfaction that all hadn’t been lost between them, that he need not ignore her anymore.

“Happy birthday, little birdie.” He whispered as he pulled Olivia tight into his embrace.

Chapter Five>

🌟Series Masterlist🌟

[ironmandeficiency]

falcon, falcon, goose!

pairing: sam wilson / reader

word count: 3547

summary: there were reports of geese leading people to their soulmates spanning centuries, and it seemed like a cool concept, but why did it have to coincide with you coming out of your writing slump?

warnings: cursing, geese, dumbassery, implied happy au where the avengers get along, iw and endgame who?

a/n: this is an older piece i wrote a couple years ago, decided to brush it up and repost it. and the reader works for snl bc why the hell not? keep in mind that the original was written before everything went to shit w iw & endgame. posted from mobile yet again yall what is wrong w me

it was a sunny day outside, and deciding that you had been cooped up for far too long, you brought your laptop to the park a couple blocks from your studio apartment.

being a writer for saturday night live wasn't always so peachy, what with the lack of a social life outside of your co-workers and constantly explaining your job to confused relatives. you had been in a slump for the past couple weeks, the fact most of your sketch ideas not making the cut for the next episode continuing to throw you off your rhythm.

this week, you were going to change that. Your headphones were playing your concentration playlist full volume and you were hyped to the max. with your laptop on the picnic table in front of you and a warm cup of tea beside it, you were ready to blow the producers away with your next idea.

"honk! honk!"

you felt something nudge your leg, but you were too engrossed into what you were typing to care. after getting through a few more lines, it happened again.

"honk! honk! honk!"

you couldn't hear the sound but the feeling on your leg got a little bit rougher, more demanding. you moved your headphones to the side for a minute and took a moment to look around you. there was no kid running to get their ball back or any squirrels nearby that dropped a nut.

strange.

but you put your headphones back on, trying to keep your groove alive while hoping the interruptions are finished.

"HONK! HONK! HONK!" the goose honked louder, pecking at your leg harder than it had earlier.

you were getting frustrated and a little pissed. the creativity was flowing through your veins for the first time in what felt like ages and this — whatever it was — decided that today was the best day to annoy you.

you kicked your legs out with a strange flail and when you came into contact with something large and solid you nearly screamed.

"ow! motherf- oh my god!"

standing on the ground beside your table was a goose. it honked yet again with impatience (geese could do that?) and nipped lightly at your thigh closest to it. looking to the pond nearby, it was nearly an entire gaggle of the damned things.

so here was this goose honking at you and nipping at you like you were supposed to know what the hell it wanted from you.

"i don't have any bread, dumbass. go find someone else to bother." thinking it would leave if you ignored it, you turned away and continued your work.

"HONK! HONK!" it continued to honk and decided to peck you before flapping its wings, landing itself on the table next to your computer.

"get outta here, ya damn goose!" while you were trying to shop it away, it expertly evaded you. "go! shoo! leave me alone!"

it just stayed over on the bench, expertly dodging your attempts to get it to leave.

a few people nearby had heard your altercation with the infernal bird. one of them was an older gentleman that laughed as he sat across from you, the mirth in his eyes glinting as you give him a sarcastic side eye while trying to deal with the current issue.

"that bird won't leave you alone, you know." At his voice, the goose calmed down and waddled a few feet away from your arm's reach.

that was the first time the thing had been seemingly calm since he showed up at your little table.

"what do you mean he won't leave me alone?"

he pauses, part of him enjoying the irritation in your tone. he remembers someone talking to him like he was to you many years ago, and it made his heart smile at the idea of repaying the favor. "have you ever read about soulmate geese?"

"hey we're gonna go for a run, wanna join?" steve’s offer was given with a smirk. ever since reuniting with bucky, the two supersoldiers found so much humor in doing laps around sam every time they went out jogging.

it annoyed the shit out of him, the "on your left" comments from steve and the newer "on your right" jabs from bucky, but it also pushed Sam to work harder during his runs. ultimately he knew his non-enhanced body didn't stand much of a chance beating them, but he enjoyed when he was able to close the gap between their times just a little bit.

"sure, just gimme a few to eat breakfast and I'll join you guys." the blond nodded and turned back to the elevator, having woken up far earlier than sam and therefore already ate.

he hummed otis redding as he laid the bacon flat into the pan, shoulders moving along with his created rhythm while changing the grounds in the coffee filter. this was how he spent most of his mornings, barring the occasional hangovers and missions where he couldn't afford the distraction.

he ate, got dressed, and told FRIDAY to let bucky and steve know he was ready to go. h had his water bottle in hand, giving his body a pep talk in preparation for the run. they met in the common room and soon, the trio was off.

"on your left!"

"on your right!"

"oh, come on!"

he knew it was gonna happen, but for some reason it felt like it happened sooner than normal. either they were trying really hard to mess with him today, or he was off his game. but regardless, he pushed his body harder than he probably should have because when there was something obstructing his path, he didn't pause. no, he charged it straight on through and fell hard.

steve and bucky had seen this from a distance and immediately rushed to get to their friend.

sam rolled onto his back, exhausted and now in terrible pain from the fall. he closed his eyes and just let it all sink in. when he opened his eyes at the sudden foul smell flooding his nostrils, he could feel the palpitations, thinking he was about to have a heart attack.

"holy shit!" sam sat up like a rocket despite the way his body was throbbing from the fall.

the goose stared at him curiously and turned its head toward the pounding footsteps from the approaching brooklynites.

"sam! What happened?" steve was concerned, inspecting sam while bucky noticed the bird. The brunet bent down to meet the goose eye-level and was somewhat surprised that it didn't run away at the close proximity.

"did you trip the dumbass? was it your fault sam landed on his face? Huh, little guy?"

"honk! honk!"

"i thought so. good job, man." bucky pats the animal on the head gently before turning to help steve get sam off the ground.

"nothing’s broken but there's probably a sprain, can't really be sure until we get to cho." sam and bucky lift their friend from the pavement and they have no problem supporting his weight.

they began the walk back to the tower in silence. well, almost silence. there was a faint pitter-patter of tiny, webbed feet behind them that sam and bucky weren't paying attention to.

steve noticed the goose slowly waddling behind the trio and looked at sam with a smile. sam responded to steve’s happy face with a glare, not enjoying any of the situation he found himself in.

"look behind us, guys."

both men took turns looking behind them and see the goose waddling behind them patiently. sam wasn't particularly happy about the culprit from moments before trailing behind him, but bucky thought it was hilarious.

"do you know what this means?"

sam rolled his eyes because he thought the blond was about to make some sort of poetic comment about one thing for another.

bucky had paused to think about the implications of a random goose for a moment before gasping. "dude," bucky nudged sam softly, being conscious of his friend's injuries. "you’re gonna meet your soulmate, man!"

"a soulmate goose. man come on, are you out of your mind?"

"steve got his goose back during the war, i think we know enough about it."

sam had only heard vague reports of soulmate geese throughout his life, but now that he thought about it, it did make sense. the goose showed up randomly in the middle of his routine, completely throwing him off, and was now refusing to leave him alone.

"well if this is my soulmate goose, then somebody’s gotta tell tony about our newest avenger." they laughed at the implication, viciously eager to witness tony’s reaction to the newest resident of avengers hq.

it has been three days of dealing with your goose, and you were now teased at work as “bird brain”, walking into your office to see several loaves of bread covering the desk. your goose, that you had named piper once you got home, was excited at the prospect of more food, but you planned on donating most of the bread to local shelters, only keeping a couple loaves for the house.

the guest host that week was mick jagger, and he had emerged into the room “i dream of jeanie” style, startling both you and piper, who honked at him in irritation.

it was time for you to work on the song for your little sketch with him, and you had only two more days before performance night (it was thursday) to finish writing it. after settling down and getting into the right mindset, the writing process had begun.

"alright let's see," mick murmured. "let’s all go to the picnic, let's all have a drink. what rhymes with 'drink'?"

you thought for a moment and said quietly, "think?"

you weren't prepared for the absurd response you received from the man, his accent making him round mean as he barked out a loud "NO!" with an unnecessary hand gesture.

piper just about lost it. she was honking and flapping around your office in a tizzy (but staying away from mick because the man was seen as a stranger she wasn't comfortable with).

you racked your brain for another solution, something else to rhyme with 'drink' and you eventually found it: "sink?"

mick thought about it for a moment before replying with a much lighter "yes!" also paired with unwarranted pointing.

‘motherfucker, is this how you write songs?!'

thursday and friday came and went, and soon it was time for your piece to be performed by mick. du to an accidental ankle twist someone else suffered, you were forced to perform a skit live for the first time in your career. it would have been great, but there was one teensy problem: piper blatantly refused to leave your side when it was time to perform, and she would honk and bite anyone that tried to keep her from you onstage.

even poor bobby, who she had grown fond of, was taking the brunt of it. she was not allowing you to be more than a couple feet away from her, and it was almost endearing if you weren't being broadcast on national television.

apparently, piper would also be making her debut appearance on saturday night live tonight as well.

saturday had arrived, and it was sam’s day of rest. he spent the day doing the bare minimum, eating junk food and watching almost everything on netflix he could find.

he didn't stray too far from tradition, not really. it was just that now he had a goose accompanying him the entire time, honking at this and that and eating occasional pieces of popcorn that sam didn't want to share.

he didn't mind his feathered companion, he was actually quite fond of his goose at this point. whitewing (not to be confused with redwing) was the most calm goose any of them had seen, no biting or nipping and especially no honking at ungodly hours of the night.

steve was perplexed. "Are you sure whitewing hasn't done anything bad? no waking you up at night or bites when you don't feed him soon enough?"

sam would chuckle and shake his head, proud to have such a calm goose. "why are you so keen to see him misbehave? aren’t all soulmate geese like this?"

"for lack of a better word, most geese are assholes. i don't know how whitewing is so well behaved," steve balked at the very idea of all geese being so mellow and decided it was story time.

steve’s goose from the century before was the most rambunctious animal anyone had ever seen. he recounted the first and several occasions following where his soulmate goose, jimmy, fended off the blond man's alleyway attackers.

sam was extremely grateful that whitewing had less feral and goose-like tendencies. whitewing was extremely well behaved and had an almost human way about him, the way he honked in reply to sam or the rest of the team when they talked to him.

it was late in the evening when clint decided to plop down onto the couch and flick the channel to nbc, where tonight's host was mick jagger.

"why are we watching this?" sam was enjoying his sitcoms before the other bird man had showed up.

"i haven't watched it in ages, plus mick jagger is on tonight."

"alright, whatever you want."

the intro played like usual, and whitewing was perfectly complacent. they laughed in the right places with the occasional honking from the bird, and everything was great.

"hey man, look!" clint interrupted, keeping sam from being able to hear the punchline. "i think that's a goose!"

"why is there a goose? The skit has nothing to with-"

sam and clint seemed to come to the same realization at the same time as whitewing, the goose beginning to honk incessantly. he was going absolutely berserk, flapping his wings and hopping off of sam’s lap and onto the coffee table, occasionally pecking at the tv where he saw the other goose.

he was going absolutely bonkers.

"whitewing! whitewing, no! calm down!" sam scrambled to calm down his goose, but he was having none of it. the whole entire skit, whitewing was honking and flapping and being a general nuisance.

he found his soulmate.

whitewing kept at it until the screen went to a commercial, his soulmate off of the screen.

"y’know," clint spoke around a slice of pizza. when did he get pizza? "if you hurry, you could go to the studio and meet your soulmate. the show is about halfway over."

before sam could think over the proposition, tony’s voice was heard from the corridor. "somebody shut that damned bird up before I pay ramsay to cook it!"

"i’m taking care of it!"

with that, sam heads to the armory with whitewing on his tail to get his wings. once he's equipped, sam heads to the window and jumps, immediately setting his course for studio 8h and his soulmate.

you’re released to go back to your office once you finish the skit alongside mick and piper, the show almost over. you’re gathering your things lazily, knowing that you have no other responsibilities for the night.

just as you lock your office and piper is waddling beside you without a care in the world, you see kyle running towards you with a look of fear in his eyes. that fear seems to only triple when his eyes land on piper beside you.

"kyle! what’s-"

"there’s another goose on the set! no one is safe!"

wait, was he bleeding?!

you were going to try and help your friend but one look at piper sent him off the rails, the lanky man nearly falling on his ass in an attempt to skid the corner. you hoped that someone would help calm your panicked friend, seeing as you were literally the worst person for the job at the moment.

without further incident, you are able to say goodbye to cecily and mikey before you're stopped in your tracks by michael, who gives piper a funny look.

"wait, so the goose that attacked kyle wasn't piper?" You shake your head in confusion. "dude, your soulmate must have come to the set!"

piper must have either understood what your co-worker had said or she could sense a change in the studio, but she began to honk erratically and run away from you. the last thing new york needed was two feral geese running around attacking people, so you did what anyone would do and ran after her.

"piper! piper, come back!" michael laughed as you chased after your goose. while you were running, you nearly died when you heard a honk that you knew wasn't from your piper. hers were carved into your brain, and you were positive that you could pick hers out of an entire gaggle of geese, so there was indeed a second goose in the studio.

to your dismay, piper did not stop and wait, she just kept on honking and flapping and scaring people in pursuit of the other goose, poor old you having to chase her.

there was another voice you assumed was yelling at his goose since you didn't know of anyone naming their kid whitewing. your eyes were not looking straight ahead when you suddenly bumped into someone, immediately stumbling a bit before regaining your balance.

piper had stopped her honking and that scared you. did someone hurt her? was she-

her and another goose were making muted honks to each other. they sounded like affectionate honks, which is one of the weirdest sentences you ever constructed in your head. but it was true! they were cuddling close to each other and making really quiet honking noises at each other, and if that wasn’t affectionate then you didn’t know what would be.

so if piper found her soulmate, that means yours was-

"i hope comin' to your job was okay. whitewing wasn't gonna give up until I left, so here we are." your eyes were dragged from the touching scene of piper and her special goose to a pair of dark brown irises that radiated warmth and a promise of happy days.

you were absolutely dumbstruck. your mouth was unable to form coherent words, so you decided to take in the appearance of your soulmate. he was wearing a soft grey tee and sweatpants, and socks without shoes. did he realize how unsanitary the streets of new york were?

but upon further investigation, you realize that he probably didn't walk to the studio. on his back was what you would normally call a jetpack, but when you recognize the face your mind completes the puzzle: your soulmate is sam wilson, otherwise known as the falcon. holy shit.

"uh yeah of course, i guess you flew here? no sane person in new york would walk around barefoot in the street." did you really just say that?!

sam nodded and then remembered that he was in his pajamas in front of his soulmate without any shoes. "yeah, he wasn't gonna stop attacking the tv once he saw uh…"

you realized he was asking for your goose’s name, and so you hastily gave it to him.

"yeah, once he saw piper, he went wild. caused more chaos in five minutes than he did in five days!"

you laugh, the nervousness falling away as you recount the story of you first meeting with piper.

people are staring at the pajama-clad avenger and his soulmate, their geese finally satisfied. after all, it wasn't every day so many people were able to watch soulmate geese (and their people) meet for the first time.

sam gently took your hand, his thumb smoothing the skin on the back of it, just listening to you talk. you asked him a question about whitewing and he was in the middle of telling you when he cut himself off. "i just realized i don't even know your name!"

in most scenarios you’d be slightly put off by this, but you didn't have an issue because of the specific circumstances. if he weren't an avenger you wouldn't have known his either, and plus, no one really pays attention to the little rat writers. you give him your name and smile when he introduces himself, his voice even helping show off the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.

with impeccable goose timing, piper and whitewing honk at you to hurry your introductions and leave the studio.

"do you want to fly back to your place , or can I drive you?" it was a risk to ask him such a question, but you were genuinely concerned. you hoped he wouldn't think you were trying to jump his bones only minutes after meeting him so you used (terrible) humor to show your intentions. "you shouldn't fly so late at night without headlights, no matter how high up you get."

sam’s laughter was infectious and soon you joined him, your geese about to get more irritated with their humans.

"yeah, I'd like that. lead the way, soulmate." piper and whitewing honk as the two of you head to the lobby hand in hand, the birds waddling behind you just as happy as soulmate geese could be.