#the only thing it doesn have is 'pay me with gift cards'

[answrs]

this “slam the scam!” email reads exactly like the scams it’s theoretically trying to warn people about lmaoooo. like it lists off five descriptions of common scams and this email has four of them straight off the bat

[cinnamonanddean]

Wincestmas - Day 3

Alright, alright, let´s try this again and hope Tumblr is not eating it this time!

Today, I thought I´d try a different kind of Wincest flavor - you mentioned that you didn´t mind a little Daddycest, and my friend, I´m right there with you <3 I´m fairly certain you´ll like this one, but please let know if you´re not comfortable with any aspect of the story and I´ll hurry to write a replacement gift!

Warning: this story contains Dean/Unknown Male Character, underage sex, a bit of dubcon and a healthy dose of John/Dean UST.

(I stole this idea from the SPN Masquerade 2018: "John has a perfect scheme to make money between hunts: he lures men into a compromising position with his teenage son, and then trades the photos for cash." Whoever thought of this: you´re a genius and I love you!).

*************

“You even legal, kid?”

Dean has learned from experience that anyone asking that question, is never even all that interested in hearing a truthful answer.

“Legal enough,” is more information than most of his targets need, and this man is no exception, either.

“Good answer.” Business Guy whispers and cups Dean´s face with one hand, thumb slowly tracing the outline of his lips.

Dean´s chosen prey of the day is unusually young. Young, hot and goddamn loaded, if his expensive business suit is any indication. His shoes alone look like they cost more than the entire Winchester wardrobe combined.

This guy probably wipes his ass with 200 Dollar bills, and Dean is more than a little turned on by the thought of ridding him of some of that wealth. If he plays his cards right, they won´t need to worry about money for the next few months or so.

The hand on his jaw slides forward and Dean opens his mouth without hesitation, groaning when two fingers push in deep enough to make him gag.

They taste like salt and stale smoke and Dean sucks them with unabashed enthusiasm – lots of tongue, just a hint of teeth, point twelve on Cosmo´s “How to drive him wild”-list.

He´s rewarded with a heartfelt curse and a heated look, the faint squeak of leather that means that John is watching from the shadows and most likely already on the brink of losing his shit.

“Jesus, kid, your fucking mouth.”

There´s something akin to awe in the man´s voice, and it makes warmth pool in the pit of Dean´s stomach, makes him grab the stranger´s wrist, shove those fingers even deeper.

His eyes flick down to the man´s crotch, and Dean feels his own dick twitch when he sees the long line of the guy´s cock, thick and hard and all because of him. He idly wonders if watching this is making John hard, too.

“Gonna suck it, sweetheart?”

Business Guy is staring at him, eyes glued to the way Dean´s lips stretch around his fingers, and the steel in his voice makes it clear that this is not a question.

Luckily for him, Dean has always been good at following orders.

He drops to his knees with an eagerness that surprises even himself, hands at the other man´s belt before the pain of his fall even registers.

“Good boy.”

Dean shivers at the praise and his cheeks start to burn, pride and shame mingling in his gut until he can´t distinguish one from the other.

A hand slides into his hair and he lets himself be pulled, his own skinny fingers slipping beneath the expensive fabric of the man´s slacks, and then Dean´s hand closes around the length of him, all hot, sticky skin, thick veins and coarse hair where Dean´s still soft and boy-smooth.

It´s bigger than Dean anticipated, but he´s watched enough porn to know what he´s doing, doesn´t even hesitate before he leans in and flicks his tongue right over the head.

The man grunts in approval and it´s all the encouragements Dean needs. He starts licking it in earnest – long, broad stripes from root to tip, little kitten licks around the head until he guy´s dick is shiny with spit.

Dean pulls back. Licks his lips. Takes another peak at Business Guy from beneath his lashes. The man seems transfixed, all open-mouthed adoration, and Dean smiles up at him and slowly, deliberately sucks the head of the guy´s dick into his pink, eager teenage-mouth.

It´s a bit different from what Dean had expected, the weight of cock against his tongue even more intoxicating when it tastes of man instead of cheap silicone, the stretch a little wider than he´s used to, but not more than he can handle.

Dean pushes deeper, throat fluttering against the intrusion and he nearly gags himself in his eagerness.

He draws back. Swallows. Spreads his legs to give his own leaking dick more room. Jesus fucking Christ.

The next slide is easier, smoother. Almost all the way down. The hands in his hair tighten and the guy above him moans, low and wanton, entirely unashamed, head falling back against the brickwall behind them.

Any minute now, Dean thinks, as he slowly gets a good rhythm going. He knows that the lightning in this alley is shit, that John might have to get closer to get a quality pic or two, but this lack of action is making him nervous.

John never lets things get this far. Usually, he´s be up and at the other guy´s throat before Dean even gets a good grip on the dude´s zipper.

They´re way past that now, and to his own surprise, Dean doesn´t mind that one bit. He´s always been good with his mouth and judging from the shivers that go through the guy when Dean sucks his dick just right, Dean can proudly add “giving head” to his long list of talents.

Seconds pass, minutes, still no sign of John.

Dean knows he´s watching, though. Can feel his skin prickle under his father´s heavy gaze, and Jesus, fuck, he´s going to jerk off to this for weeks.

The moan tearing its way from somewhere deep in his chest is muffled around his mouthful of cock, and Dean feels himself tremble at the answering stream of curses above him.

He draws back, takes a minute to admire the wet, shiny mess he´s made, his fist sliding through spit and precum when he gives the guy a few slow strokes.

“Shit, baby, c´mon.” The man pleads and Dean grins, opens his mouth, prepared to draw him in deep again.

He doesn´t get very far.

The sound the guy makes when he´s slammed up the alley wall is fundamentally different to the ones Dean just pulled out of him.

Surprise, anger, fear. Mostly, shock.

“Get your fucking hands off my son!”

Dean can´t remember the last time John´s voice shook with that much fury. He´s terrifying, looming over the guy like an avenging god straight out of one of Bobby´s books.

Business Guy is trying to say something, but only manages to croak out hurt little sounds, hands grabbing uselessly at John´s forearm that is pressing against his throat and cutting off his air, toes trying and failing to find any purchase on the dirty street below.

It´s ten different kinds of hot and does nothing at all to improve the situation in Dean´s already uncomfortably tight jeans.

“Give me one, one, good reason not to cut off your dick right here and now!” John snarls, not even waiting for an answer before snapping his favorite switchblade wide open, the sharp knife gleaming dangerously in the low light of the alley.

The way the guy´s eyes bulge out at that, Dean´s sure he´s going to pass out any minute now.

“P-please, I - “

“Shut your fucking mouth, you sick little - “ John breaks off, the tense line of his shoulders trembling with barley checked violence. He´s five seconds away from cutting the guys throat, and all three of them know it.

"Dad?" Dean tries, not all that keen on disposing of yet another goddamn body tonight. "It´s okay, you can let him go. He´s not worth the trouble.”

His father doesn´t even twitch, no sign that he even heard him.

They balance right at the edge of disaster for another five seconds, and then John jumps back as if he´s been burned, knife still in his hand, but no longer ready to strike.

Business Guy crumbles to the floor in a mess of limbs, chest heaving with panicked breaths. He looks all kinds of ridiculous, soft cock still hanging out of his jeans, his face somehow both deadly pale and angry red all at once.

Yeah, Dean thinks idly, it probably is kinda difficult to stay hard when John fucking Winchester is at your throat, threatening to cut your balls off.

“Leave.” His father orders, as if on cue, the deadly calm of his voice even more terrifying than the anger from seconds ago. “And if you ever touch another kid, I´m going to come back and make you pay for every. single. one. of them.”

Without waiting for a reply, John turns around to face Dean, stares him down with the full force of his glare, something dark shifting in his gaze.

Suddenly, Dean is only too aware of the state he´s in, how his lips feel swollen and raw, of the way his face is still shiny with both drool and jizz.

He hesitates for a second and then slowly, provocatively, licks his lips. John´s swallows.

“We´ll talk when we get home.” He rasps, eyes glued to Dean´s mouth, the bulge in his jeans unmistakable.

Dean only smiles.

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

Good God, Anon, you tryna kill me? There's so much to love here: teenage Dean getting off on his own power, John so focused that he forgets to pull the plug - did they even get the money? Ah, who cares! Amazing. Thank you!

[taynuz]

Chapter 3, Staff Only Christmas Party

December 1995

The next three months seemed to have flown by. You assisted Pomona during her classes and even got to teach a couple of first years when she had developed a case of Mumblemumps. Calling professors by their first names became much easier every day; you were finally on a first name basis with everyone which made you feel more like an equal. It had taken you the longest to call Professor Snape by his first name and from time to time you still felt it appropriate to keep his title when addressing him.

The new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was an amphibian-like woman who was obsessed with the colour pink and cats, two things that you despised. Sufficed to say you and Dolores Umbridge did not seem to get along well at all. She had questioned your apprenticeship and even threatened to turn you over to the Minister of Magic for being an “illegal instructor” since you hadn’t been out of school for the minimum three years. However, you had something on your side that she didn’t, Dumbledore. Luckily, Dumbledore had given you the proper title of “Student Teacher” apparently there is no rule against how old you have to be to shadow an actual professor. Umbridge didn’t take kindly to not getting her way and would throw you the stink eye and make snide comments whenever she could.

You weren't about to let an irritating colleague ruin your mood because Christmas was fast approaching and you were so excited to have your first break of the school year. Christmas had always been your favorite time at Hogwarts and it wasn’t just the decorations or the feast. Every year, your parents would travel to some obscure country for the holiday and it was the only time that they didn’t mind your absence from a family event.

You were in Sprout’s study, she was helping you learn how to develop lesson plans when two letters slid under the door frame and landed in the middle of the room. The letter inside had fancy gold calligraphy at the top that read,

1,005th Annual Staff Only Christmas Party

December 17th, 1995 8 p.m.

Headmaster’s Study

Inside the envelope, there was a separate slip of paper that had a list of names whizzing around as if it were the end credits of a movie.

“Pomona, what is this exactly?” You held the sheet up to show her.

“Ah, yes, that is the Secret Santa drawing. When you tap it with your wand it stops on a name and that's who you are the Secret Santa for. Every time someone gets a name it is removed from everyone else’s list to prevent duplicates! So you better pick fast or there won't be much left to choose from.”

You pulled out your wand, closed your eyes and tapped the paper. You were excited but nervous about who you would get, you had a few ideas in mind for certain people but you were hoping to get Minerva. She had been talking about needing to resupply her teapots and dinner plates to use in her classes. You slowly opened your eyes, when you saw the name in front of you felt your cheeks go red.

You knew exactly what to buy and headed off to Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade the next day to buy some things for Pomona as well as your Secret Santa gift. You made your stops at Gringotts, Dogweed and Deathcap, Ceridwin’s Cauldrons, and you even stopped for a little treat for yourself at Honeyduke’s before returning to your room to assess your goods.

The students became more and more anxious about the holiday coming up and it had become difficult to maintain focus in class. Professor Sprout tried to keep to a productive lesson plan but found that to be nearly impossible, instead, the students ended up learning about the magical properties of poinsettias and mistletoe. You were just as excited for Christmas as the students were and on the last day of term, you had convinced Pomona to cancel class and let the students have a free period. Once word spread you were the one that had persuaded Professor Sprout to take a day off you instantly became one of the favorite “professors” of many students.  

The day had come, at last, the day of the Staff Only Christmas Party. You, Minerva and Septima Vector (the Arithmancy teacher) had taken a girls day to get your hair done and buy new dresses for the occasion. The first stop was to the hair salon across from Honeyduke’s, after the appointment Minerva had to run into the sweet shop to get a last minute gift for her recipient, which at this point you guessed was Professor Dumbledore. Then you went to Twilfitt and Tatting’s for new dresses. Minerva had picked a beautiful sapphire dress with silver embellishments while Septima had gone with her obvious color of scarlet. You were still oblivious to fashion so they helped you pick out an emerald dress with an elegant golden design going down the back.

As you were leaving the shop you remembered you also needed to make one more stop for a last minute addition to your gift. Minerva and Septima waited outside Wiseacre’s Wizarding Equipment for you before disapparating back to the castle.

There was only an hour left until the party, you decided to start your makeup and wrap the box containing flasks and bottles. When you looked at the time you panicked, you only had 15 minutes to get dressed and up to Dumbledore’s study.

You arrived at the entrance of the Headmasters office five minutes late and was greeted by the gargoyle, who looked festive in a Santa hat and an ugly sweater. It was then you had realized, you hadn’t gone into Dumbledore's office this year and you didn’t know the password.

“Fizzing Whizbee.”

The gravelly voice behind you made you jump. Luckily, Severus had arrived just in time otherwise you were sure you would have missed the entire celebration.

“Thank you, Professor Snape.”

“Feel free to call me by my name seeing as we are equal to a certain extent now and we are in an informal setting.” His voice serious but lighter than usual.

“Thank you, Severus.” Your face felt hot as you climbed the winding staircase to the brightly decorated office. The party was absolutely gorgeous, you had complimented Dumbledore on his excellent choice of decor and music.

The night was full of wonderful small talk and the occasional Christmas carol lead by Albus. Once the party had started to wind down, the time had come to open presents. Pomona opened a new set of trowels, which she had guessed were from Professor Flitwick, Albus was ecstatic to receive a pair of wool socks and packs of peppermint toads and exploding bonbons, and Professor Trelawney nearly cried at the sight of her new handmade tarot card deck. When your turn came you realized you never talked about things you had wanted and were nervous to see if you would like the gift. You opened the small but heavy rectangle and realized it was a book, when you turned to the front you realized it wasn’t just any book. It had been a near mint version of Moste Potente Potions, you wished this was a part of your collection since your sixth year but were unable to find a complete copy. (Most pages in the books you found had been ripped out or illegible due to age).

“I’ve been trying to get a decent copy of this for over a year! Thank you so much!” You didn’t even try to hold back a wide smile.

You were too busy skimming through your new favorite possession to notice almost everyone else opening their gifts, though nobody seemed to care you weren't paying attention.

“Severus,” Dumbledore’s voice startled you out of your daze. “I believe yours is the final box there.”

Severus walked apprehensively over to the giant tree in the corner and grabbed the green and black wrapped present. When he opened the top his face went from doubt to surprise as he pulled out the newest Collapsable, Self-Stirring, Hex-Proof Gold cauldron and placed it on the table looking it over as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.

“This is truly a magnificent cauldron.” He said resorting back to his serious tone as if he had caught himself showing emotion.

“I believe that’s not all,” Dumbledore said as he looked in the box.

Severus check again and pulled out a set of flasks and bottles.

“Thank you. I really appreciate these gifts.” He kept staring at them so as not to make eye contact with anyone.

“Thank you all for participating in the festivities! Another successful year in the books! Feel free to relax and enjoy another drink. Unfortunately, I must retire for the evening; I have some business to attend to immediately. Happy Christmas to you, if you are going home to enjoy the holiday with your families and I will see you in the new year.” With that Dumbledore disapparated.

You took a spot on the couch and began reading through the potions. The staff slowly started saying their goodbyes as they left one by one. An hour later it had just been Minerva, Madam Pomfrey, Severus and yourself left in the room. Madam Pomfrey came over to you with a tipsy McGonagall on her shoulder.

“(Y/N), my dear. Would you mind bringing Minerva's gifts back to her study for me when you get a chance?  I’m going to put her to bed.”

“Of course!” You were happy to help.

Seeing Minerva in this state was funny as she had completely dropped her eloquent tone and replaced it with drunken babble.

“Happy Curshmis to yah (y/n)! You look sssso pretty in your dress! Doesn’ she look sooooo pretty Poppy?” McGonagall garbled.

“Yes dear, very pretty.” Pomfrey agreed, giving you a smile that said ‘Don’t mind her’.

“Isn’ she pretty, Sevrus?” She hiccuped and giggled.

Snape had pretended to not hear her as Madam Pomfrey helped her down the steps.

You finished reading about slow acting venoms when you decided that was enough for tonight. You grabbed Minerva’s teapots and dinner plates and put them in your bag that had an Extension Charm on it.

“Good night, Severus.” You said turning to leave.

“Collapsable, Self-Stirring, Hex-Proof Gold Cauldron. The exact one that I just so happened to save an ad for from The Daily Prophet.” His tone was sarcastic but not rude.

“Well, your Secret Santa must be observant.” You were trying to play it off like it wasn’t you but you were sure that he knew.

“Quite. I do hope you enjoy your book, Ms. (Y/L). You are welcome to come by if you would like to attempt to make any of the potions. I have made them all at least once.”

How could you have been so oblivious?

“Where were you able to find such a near perfect copy? I’ve been searching for ages,” you asked.

“I wouldn’t have guessed a witch like yourself would ever make a trip to Knockturn Alley. A bit dangerous for a young witch to wander the shops alone.”

“I think I can handle myself just fine. It also helps that nearly everyone there knows my father.” You tried to come off as brave even though you were always a little nervous about shopping there and always made sure you went during the day.

“Well, the shopkeep at Ye Olde Curiosity was a siphon of information about someone who came in looking for an old book only to be disappointed at the nature of its condition.” He gave a sly half-grin.

“And how pray tell, did you know about my shop of choice when inquiring about rarities?” You have never told anyone of your adventures down the infamous alley.

“You aren’t the only one that shops in Knockturn Alley, Ms. (L/N).” He finally met your gaze and seemed to have accidentally cracked a smile. He turned back to his cauldron quickly, embarrassed by his moment of vulnerability.

You stepped closer and caught his eye again.

“Happy Christmas, Severus.”

“To you as well, (Y/N)” He gave a nod and began to pack up the gifts you gave him. You walked to the stairs sleepy and merry, his voice made you stop right you before you went down the steps.

“Ms. (L/N)?” He sounded more serious now. “Please let me know the next time you would like to venture to Knockturn Alley. I’d like to see to it that you are protected, you never know what could happen there.”

Your cheeks flushed bright red.

“Of course, Severus.”

Falling asleep had been easy with a belly full of Firewhiskey and Pumpkin Pasties. Unfortunately, your sleep had been interrupted by the sound of someone apparating into your room.

“(Y/L)! Take my hand, we need you at Grimmauld!”

Your eyes hadn’t quite adjusted to the dark but you knew that voice. You took Dumbledore’s hand and disapparated from your bed.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

[firerili1981-blog]

9. NDS libray. There are also great deal of games here, like other Zeldas, Metroid Prime Hunter (fav shooter), various Marios, Osu! (Elite Beat Agents) and etc. He would usually play his PS4 and I could chill in my room and watch tv. I loved it. I loved having our 'own' space and weren't constantly on top of each other. What's better though, selling drugs to feed your family or letting them starve? That's not it though; by imprisoning these people, many kids had to grow up with only one parent, maybe working two jobs. This leads to more desperation and more drugs. This is why there are so many American prisoners. A few products I absolutely love. Their eye makeup remover and their repair line is great. I could use that line of skincare and nothing else but I love to switch around too much and play with other products and brands. So here I would say you would need to think about what other duties you are fulfilling by working for this company. Duties such as to personally develop, to work in a society, to help others (you say this company does help others). Then you need to thing how strong the duty to not support regimes you believe are unethical is and whether this outweighs the others.. I classify any game in which you can spend real world money to have an advantage over those that don Pay to Win. The cards effect gameplay, even grinding playing 16 hours a day it take months to get all the optimal cards for each hero. (More than that if they rebalance the cards in that timeframe.) To be competitive you can just main one person, you will have to change heroes to counter the enemy team comp etc.. The Strange Case of the Alchemist Daughter by Theodora Goss has a cast of women who are all funny and witty and charming in their own ways. It a 19th century adventure story starring some of literature great "monsters" (characters from Jekyll and Hyde, Frankenstein, The Island of Dr. Moreau, and Rappaccini Daughter) as they try to solve the White Chapel Murders and get caught up in a conspiracy. Later on they legit 태백출장안마 had no plan. Like Amon was a villain with great potential. He could have been the villain for 3 seasons. It could be at a Denny The power of the presidency is transferred (willingly or unwillingly on the part of the previous president) with an oath, not a handshake. Trump doesn need to sign something stipulating his agreement. He can take the nuclear football and launch codes away hidden under his tie.. "And they had hardly discovered me, when, as he owned afterwards, he was smitten with a violent love for me, as the manner in which it displayed itself plainly showed. But to shorten the long recital of my woes, I will pass over in silence all the artifices employed by Don Fernando for declaring his passion for me. He bribed all the household, he gave and offered gifts and presents to my parents; every day was like a holiday or a merry making in our street; by night no one could sleep for the music; the love letters that used 태백출장안마 to come to my hand, no one knew how, were innumerable, full of tender pleadings and pledges, containing more promises and oaths than there were letters in them; all which not only did not soften me, but hardened my heart against him, as if he had been my mortal enemy, and as if everything he did to make me yield were done with the opposite intention.

[defbiosutlie1973-blog]

I already pay taxes to fund schools and the tax credits parents get. Childfree people are already paying more. You don hear me bitching about it, because I like the idea of a well educated populous. Hara has injuries, a witness and doctors reports to back up her claims and still people are saying "wait for more." In general a victim of DV having no choice but to prove herself over and over again for the purpose of the court of public opinion is a farce. So my concern doesn at all lay with the guys public reputation who entered a womans home, attacked her in her sleep and beat her so bad she had internal damage. Given all that, I will not be ruling out sexual assault, "until we have all the facts".. We tried keeping it a secret from our daughter because we didn't want to alarm her but she became suspicious because Hannah had lost her smell after going through the hotel's 양주출장샵 commercial washer and dryer. After that she was reluctant to bring them on vacation with us, but after her friend's house burned down, she insisted I lock them up in our fire safe whenever we left town. I checked the college store website and they don't make them anymore. I try not to keep too much cash with me. I also have a long term savings account with an old school bank where you have to physically go to withdraw money. That curbs online and impulsive spending.. I understand that everyone wants a partner, but I hate the mentality that everyone deserves one. I have one single friend in particular who comes to mind She almost 30, and she thinks it okay to "shh" people while they talking if she wants to talk. I sorry, but if I went on a date with a man who "shhh" me, I would leave immediately. Maybe it will help and if not maybe it will when I start again. I usually don want to use it as a coping mechanism anymore but a do it with friends occasionally. I try not to do it too often and I having a break right now. Different kinds of meters are utilized in each stanza. That is why; it is considered as the most flexible and easier one kind of ode. Look at the following stanzas taken from Wordsworth's Ode on the Intimations of Immortality:. Her pulling the book has nothing to do with any of the criticisms you offering, and entirely to do with perceived "problematic" material. 99 percent of the people piling on haven read the book and know fuck all about it. They whipped up into a frothing mass based on a few Tweets from YA 남양주출장샵 influencers, and they total outrage sheep.. "When things are crazy at work and at home it multiplies the feeling of chaos. Keeping things ordered and clean can make you feel in control of the situation." Externally speaking, we stress ourselves out about how others will view our space, and fear that they'll pass judgement on our hygiene and housekeeping skills. So, not only are we our own harshest critics, we think everyone else is, too.. We live in a very beauty conscious world. All of us want to look best all the time. Is a cruel factor, makes us look dull and boring. Get a cheaper deck. The $5 pack only gives you like three M2019 packs and gems for a single sealed event. You have obtained way more packs/cards in the months before I signed up than I did with that little pack. I reading your post however and can help but read it as you trying to buy it as an investment. Don Owning a Rolex is special to me because of what the watch represents, and to others it could be a gift or a milestone or a feeling of success, but there is no watch in that sense. If you buy one to flip later on, then there is nothing to it but a hunk of metal that will be worth same/ more later on.

[actransformer]

Its like every time she thinks about what she wants

“I don’t get it. I mean it’s just mind boggling to me! Its like every time she thinks about what she wants, it appears.” With some emotional exclamation, Mary questioned, “How does she do that?” The question Mary was asking has been asked Toroidal Transformers Manufacturers by so many so often. It just seems that some people have the gift of manifestation. They can imagine what they want and it appears. What they have is not magic or illusion, rather, they understand and use the Law of Attraction.

So what is this – Law of Attraction? Simply put, the Law of Attraction is like the Law of Gravity. It is one of the Universal or Natural Laws of this Universe. Working with mathematical certainty, the Law of Attraction is energy in motion. With a little indignation Mary replied, “O.K., so this energy in motion concept, just how does it work? I understand gravity. You take an egg, drop it on a counter, and it will break (unless it’s hard boiled, of course). But, energy in motion, I just don’t see? Explain please! Cause ‘energy in motion’ doesn’t get it for me.”

The Law of Attraction, much like gravity, works in defined ways – that’s why we call it a Universal or Natural Law. The fundamental principle is: Whatever you are consciously or unconsciously focusing on in your life you will attract. Put another way, what you think about you will receive. The more passionately you think about whatever it is the more of it you will attract. Therefore, your inner world defines your outer physical experience.

Think about your first comments. You stated, “Its like every time she thinks about what she wants, it appears.” That’s the Law of Attraction in action. The person you were thinking of understands, either consciously or unconsciously, how to use this powerful law.

Expectation is a part of this attractive force. What you expect in life, through the Law of Attraction, is drawn to you. If you focus on paying bills, you will always have bills to pay. If you focus on not having enough money, you won’t have enough money. In the example you mentioned at the start, the lady you were referring to must have expected to receive – and she did! The key is to expect the things you truly want, and don’t expect what you don’t want.

An important point to consider – the Law of Attraction doesn’t discriminate. It will give you just what you think about. So if you want better, you must change your thinking. Now, let me share five simple ways to make the Law of Attraction work for you.

1.Think about what you want. See it in your mind’s eye. Be clear about your intent. This is a critical step. All too often, people say they want one thing and then proceed to think another. It is not what you say you want that will be attracted to you…it’s what you actually think about that determines the result. “All we are is a result of what we have thought.” Buddha.

2.Take some time and ask yourself – honestly – how you feel about what you’ve asked for or intended. Go inside yourself and see if you feel it’s possible. Write down your thoughts about it. Talk to a friend and have them listen to you carefully and observe and note what you say. Are you sabotaging your own desire? Do you want what you want, enough to change your behavior? James Ray (jamesray) in the book, The Secret states, “When you look at our current state of affairs and define yourself by that, then you doom yourself to have nothing more than the same for your future.”

3.Create a visual image of your intention. Most of us want what we believe exists, therefore, creating a visual representation of what we desire helps us stay focused on desire. One simple example of this step in action relates to attracting money. Folks at the end of my seminars will often ask how to create the income they desire. The easiest way to create the visual image of what you want is to take your prior year’s earnings statement (in the USA it’s a W-2 form), white out the income numbers there and reinsert those income numbers that you want. Jack Canfield, author of Chicken Soup for the Soul tells the story of using this process of visualization. Needless to say, it worked for him and can for you as well.

4.Take action. The universe knows no time. Everything is now. But in the world we live in (human existence is linear) we must take steps to achieve what we desire. Remember it takes one step at a time to climb a mountain. In my experience, you can’t want something deeply - take no action - and expect it to appear. The first three steps are mental. This step is physical. If I want to run a marathon, and I’m not physically prepared, I must prepare. The act of preparing or taking action, is putting the Law of Attraction into motion. Gravity exists, but to see it demonstrated it requires some action. The same is true with the Law of Attraction – action creates action.

5.Lastly, feel what you want as if it is here. While this is a challenge to many, most highly successful people say that once they’ve made up their mind…they feel the same way they’d feel if they had what they wanted. Whether it’s Esther and Jerry Hicks authors of The Law of Attraction (abraham-hicks) or the many contributors to the book, The Secret by Rhonda Byrne (thesecret.tv), they all say the same thing, picture what you want in your minds eye, feel it and trust that you have it NOW! The feeling of it existing is key to the actual manifestation of what you truly want.

The above five steps, followed consistently, will dramatically improve the power and speed at which you apply the Law of Attraction. Let me share a simple, but profound story. My wife and I participate in a program called “Masterminding”. When two or more people hold in consciousness an outcome or each other’s desire, power increases through “Masterminding.” As the New Year dawned, we looked at our desires and noticed something profound. One thing we had on our Mastermind list was to pay off our credit cards. But, in reading that statement from a different perspective, we both realized that “paying off” meant we had debt and hence we were allowing the Law of Attraction to make sure we had “debt to pay off.”

As you can imagine, we immediately changed that. We replaced our old desire with the following Mastermind statement: “Money and abundance easily and effortlessly flows into our lives.” That evening we did our Mastermind session where we read out loud what we desired. The next day, I received a call from my mother who stated that my wife and I each would receive a check. For estate and tax purposes she needed to make two gifts.

Now attracting money “easily and effortlessly” is a much easier way to reduce debt or attract what you want than holding in consciousness our prior desire. When actions like this happen, it only reinforces the power of the Law of Attraction.

So other than reading this article, how can folks gain a better understanding of the Law of Attraction? My seminar “Make it Happen” focuses almost entirely on the methods and benefit of the Law of Attraction. For information, visit my web site: chuckgallagher and look at the presentations page or feel free to sign up for my free Choices ezine where we often look at the application of the Law of Attraction.

[frugalspoonie-blog]

I just got a check in the mail

$13,480.00 -- that is my student loans after tuition got taken out. This is supposed to last me for the remainder of the semester, so that’s three months of budgeting.

My roommate brought the mail in today and I will not lie -- when I saw the envelope, I shrieked, and when I took the check out and looked at the amount, I literally burst into tears because it is such a weight off my shoulders to be able to plan for the future. 

So what am I doing with this windfall newly acquired debt?

First of all: PAYING MY ROOMMATES BACK FOR RENT, UTILITIES, HOUSEHOLD EXPENSES, AND GROCERIES, HOLY SHIT (and budgeting for the future for those, heh)

Second: Medical expenses. Since I have an out-of-network doctor (specialist) and therapist, and since my dental insurance only covered part of my root canal (jerks), I have a lot of expenses there, not counting my Medicaid-subsidized primary care (free) and prescriptions ($2 each, I believe). I'm budgeting $400 per month to this, and I'm not sure that's enough but we shall see.

Third: Credit Card debt. I have racked up a shameful almost $3000 total in Credit Card debt, so I set myself a goal of paying it all off by Summer 2018. This means a monthly contribution of around $220 to each card. It's a little more than the $300/month that would get it all down by July.

Fourth: Taxes, finally, augh. I have been owing state and federal taxes since I did my taxes back in March. At the time I had no money to pay them with, BUT NOW I DO MWAHAHAHA. I'm going to finally call NY State tomorrow and ask about an installment plan.

Fifth: Other monthly necessities. Restarting my retirement contributions. Transportation (including for Lyfts when I'm spoonless, yes). My monthly trips to NYC that I have committed to for gaming purposes. Software subscriptions. Student loan interest so it doesn't get added to the principal after I graduate.

Sixth: Quality of life things. Dining out money both for special events and for when I'm spoonless. Tattoo fund to finally do more on my back tattoo (color, etc). Holiday and birthday gifts for various people.

How will this jive with the philosophy of frugality? WE SHALL SEE.

For one thing, I'm actually budgeting this windfall and not running out and spending it on all the new gadgets ever. (Although I do need to buy a new toothbrush because mine is on its last legs. DM me if you know of a good one that is made relatively sustainably.)

[blastron01]

Ascendance of a Bookworm – 050

Making Cakes With Freida

The next morning, I leave the bed for the first time and get a look at the rest of the room.

Whoooa, it's like a hotel.

The room is over four meters long on each side. In one corner sits the canopy bed, but there's also a round table, three chairs, and a fireplace. In addition to the simple furnishings, though, the floor is covered in a thick carpet and curtains are swaying in a window whose glass has a rippling, undulating design, as if to stop people outside from looking in. It may be a simple room, but it is very obviously one that a lot of money was spent on.

Also, near a chair by the door, there is already a servant woman waiting for me.

"Good morning. Please, wash your face here. When you are dressed, I will lead you to the dining room." "A... alright."

She briskly prepares a bowl of hot water for me to wash my face in and hands me a clean cloth. I'm a little nervous at being treated so graciously.

"Please, change into these close. This may be rude of me to say, ma'am, but it would be troublesome for you to be seen in this house in your own attire." "I understand."

The clothes that she produces look like Freida's old clothes. At the sight of them, however, my heart jumps for joy, seeing that they aren't extremely worn and constantly patched together like mine are. I quickly comb out my hair as well and do it up with my hairpin. The servant looks at my hairpin curiously, but doesn't say a thing. With that, my preparations are complete.

I'm led to the dining room, where Freida and the guild leader are already waiting for me. I realize that I haven't yet thanked the guild leader for helping me out.

"Good morning, guild leader. I am very grateful for all of your assistance."

The guild leader nods slightly in reply. Freida quickly rushes over to me, then pats me on my forehead and the nape of my neck. I flinch when I feel her slightly cool hands on my skin, but she doesn't seem to care.

"Good morning, Maine! It looks like your fever's gone totally away, doesn't it?" "Good morning, Freida. I doing great! I'm feeling very refreshed."

Ah, was she feeling my temperature? Now that I actually understand the reason behind her sudden action, I give her a cheerful smile. She smiles happily back at me, and we both turn towards the dining table.

The guild leader harrumphs. "It's good to see that you're doing well, but this is all the help you're going to get with the magic tools. I bought these so that they'd be ready if something happens to Frieda, after all." "Grandpa!" objects Freida. "It's just like he says, Freida," I say to her. "They're things he collected for your sake." I turn to the guild leader. "Sir, I am deeply grateful that you sold me such a valuable magic tool. Thank you."

It was an extremely precious thing that he'd had to use his connections and money to their maximum extent to acquire. Even though I'll be paying him back financially, it was amazingly good fortune that he sold it to me in the first place.

"Maine," he says, "think hard about what you'll be doing after this." "Yes, sir," I reply. "Now then, we should send word to your family that you're awake. I'll send a messenger; is there anything you'd like to tell them?"

I'm a little startled when he mentions sending a messenger, but I realize that there's no way that the guild leader would walk to my house himself. Sending a messenger is only normal for him. He calls over a young man, who confirms with me where my house is.

"Umm," I say, "Could you ask them if they could bring some 'simple shampoo and conditioner' with them as a thank-you gift for Freida, please?"

We still call it simple shampoo and conditioner at my house, but it really doesn't seem to the the kind of name that you can immediately remember after hearing it just once. The messenger's face is strained as he tries hard to remember exactly what my message is.

"Sim-pull sham...? Um, I'm terribly sorry, but might I ask you to repeat that for me?" "Ummm, if you tell them to bring the liquid that makes hair shiny, I think they'll understand. I'm sorry to have to trouble you with this, but thank you very much for your effort." "Liquid to make hair shiny. I understand, ma'am."

As I see the messenger off, I notice that the guild leader is looking at me intently, stroking his chin. For some reason, I suddenly feel like he'd had a disturbing sort of smile on his face as he was watching me just a moment ago.

"You certainly do have some interesting things, Maine," he remarks. "That's right, Grandpa," says Freida. "I thought for sure we'd get her in exchange for that magic tool, but now I'm really disappointed we didn't."

With neither Benno nor Lutz here, the thought of getting cornered by these two is terrifying. They'd swallow me whole in the blink of an eye.

"The money for the magic tool!" I exclaim. "Let me pay you for that."

I'd be in trouble if I got overcharged for some reason or another, or if the price suddenly raised on me, so I immediately touch my guild card to the guild leader's, completing the transaction.

"You really did have that much... Benno," he grumbles, vexed.

Somehow, Benno managed to dodge his way through the net the guild leader had laid out to snare him.

Good job, Mister Benno!

"Maine, please eat as much as you like." "Don't mind if I do!"

It's hard to keep my face from shining. I mean, the bread they brought out for breakfast is white bread! Real, white bread, made only with flour! On top of that, I can use as much honey as I like; isn't this too luxurious? After stuffing my face full of sweet, delicious bread, I reach for the soup.

The soup is pleasantly salty, but I feel like all of the savoriness of the vegetables has escaped. It seems that, as expected, once they boiled the vegetables to completion they just threw out the leftover brother. This seems to be a pretty well-established practice in the culinary arts around here. The bacon and eggs are amazingly delicious, and for dessert they bring out a selection of fruits.

I'm deeply moved by this luxurious breakfast. It's like something I could have gotten in Japan. The breakfasts of the rich sure are delicious. As I enthusiastically chow down, the guild leader looks at me with a frown.

"Maine, who taught you your manners?" "I wasn't really taught, I don't think?"

I'm not technically lying: I'd dug out books on manners and gone to family restaurants to practice them, but I was never actually formally taught manners. The guild leader, however, only frowns more deeply, looking at me with naked curiosity written all over his face. I, however, don't pay him any mind as I finish my breakfast. If I let it bother me, I lose.

Shortly after breakfast is finished, the guild leader heads off to work. As Freida and I rest, we're notified that guests have arrived. It seems that my family has stopped by to see me on their way to work.

"Maine!" says my father, leaping into the room with outstretched arms. My mother shoves him aside. "Whargh?!"

"You're awake!" she says. "I'm so glad. When Lutz told me that you'd collapsed in Mister Benno's store and had to be carried to Miss Freida's home, I thought my heart was going to stop." "I'm sorry to make you worry," I reply. "Freida has the same sickness I do, so she knows a lot of things about it that I didn't."

There is no way I could tell her outright that I just spent two small gold and eight large silver coins to use a magic tool. She's faint on the spot.

"Miss Freida," she says, "thank you so very much." "Mommy," I say, "did you bring the 'simple shampoo and conditioner' to thank Freida with?"

I couldn't really think of anything else to thank her with besides money, but since her baptismal ceremony is tomorrow, I think this is excellent timing for making her hair sparklingly clean.

"We did. I don't know whether or not something like this is a good thank-you, though. Tory?" "Thank you for helping Maine, Miss Freida," says Tory, handing Freida a small jar. Freida takes it with a smile, bending slightly at the waste. "You are very welcome." "We really are very grateful," says my father. "Lutz told us that Maine was in a very serious condition. Thank you very much for saving my daughter." He turns to me. "Maine, you seem to be doing better; will you come home today?"

His eyes convey that he wants me to return home immediately. Since my family is already worried, I personally want to return home as soon as it looks like I can, but Freida stands in my way, smiling.

"No, as we discussed earlier, Maine will be staying here until the day of the baptismal ceremonies so that we can keep an eye on her condition. I would be deeply troubled if she suddenly got worse." "...Ah, right," says my father reluctantly. "We're sorry for the trouble," says my mother, turning to face Freida and bending slightly at the waist, "but please take care of Maine."

As I wonder if this is some sort of greeting, I lean a little bit closer to get a better look, but Tory reaches out with both hands and grabs me firmly by the cheeks.

"We're going to work now. Make sure you don't act up like you usually do, okay?" "Alright, Tory. Come pick me up on baptism day! Good luck at work!"

My family rushes out, looking like they're in a bit of a hurry, passing Lutz, who is just arriving, on their way out.

"You're awake! How's your fever? Has it really gone down?"

Just like Freida had done this morning, Lutz pats my forehead and the nape of my neck, checking my temperature. Since he just came in from outside, though, his hands are freezing cold compared to Freida's, and I let out a yelp.

"Wait, Lutz! Your hands are cold!" "Oops, sorry." "Sorry I made you worry. I'm okay now, though." "...You'll be okay for about a year, right?"

Lutz's lips are pursed, silently saying that we can't celebrate just yet. However, the fact that we put this off another year is itself momentous.

"Yeah. ...I'll use that time to think about a lot of things, and try looking to see if there really isn't something we can do about it. First off, I have to make a book." "That's all you ever think about! Well, I'm going to go tell Master Benno that you're awake. He said yesterday that he'd come to check in on you later this afternoon."

When Benno's name comes up, Freida suddenly scowls. She'd taken a step back at some point, but now that she's heard that she steps forward to muscle her way in.

"Oh dear, this afternoon would be a problem. Maine and I promised each other that we'd spend the afternoon making sweets! Isn't that right, Maine?"

Somehow, I get the feeling that it wouldn't be that good an idea to let Benno and Freida meet. I can't help but get an awful premonition that I'd wind up awkwardly sitting between the two of them as they glare at each other, caught between a rock and a hard place.

"So, Lutz, I'm sorry, but if you say you're going to Mister Benno's shop, could you tell him that as well?" "Yeah, sure... but what are you making? Something new?"

Lutz, of course, finds the talk of my promise to make sweets with Freida far more interesting than whatever he has to do with Benno.

I shake my head, chuckling. "I can't decide on what we're making until I've talked with the person who does the cooking here." "Oh my," says Freida, "you haven't decided yet?"

Until I know what kinds of ingredients and tools I can use, I can't really come up with any solid ideas about what we'll make. Also, if the cook is a cooperative sort of person, we'd be able to make something that might take a while to do so. If they're only just putting up with us, though, I'd prefer to make something a little simpler.

"I have no idea what kinds of ingredients or tools we can use, so I can't decide yet." "You could make things with Lutz, though, right?"

Freida purses her lips, looking as if she doesn't understand my explanation. Since Lutz's lifestyle is similar to mine, the tools and ingredients that he has at his house aren't going to be vastly different from those at mine, but since Freida's house is so vastly different, I can't really even compare the two of them together at all.

"I only really tell people how to cook. At Lutz's house, I use his family's ingredients, and he and his brothers help out a lot. Right, Lutz?" "Yeah, since you don't have any strength, and you don't have any endurance, and you still haven't grown up." "I think we'll be done this evening, so I think we can save a bit for you to sample, you know?" "Seriously?! I'm looking forward to it!"

Freida seems to be burning with some sort of sense of rivalry with Lutz, and after she scowlingly watches him walk out the door, she turns to me, cheeks puffed out in the most adorable sulk.

"You're too nice to him." "Oh, no, not at all. It's the opposite. He's way too nice to me."

At those words, Freida only sulks even harder. To be honest, I have absolutely no idea why she might possibly be doing this.

Freida suddenly points directly at my face. "Alright! Then I'm going to be way too nice to you too!" "Huh? Why?" "Well, you're my number one best friend, but I'm not your number one best friend, and that's not okay!"

What an adorable creature. I want to mush up her little cheeks.

"Well, would it make you feel better if we did all the girls-only things I can't do with Lutz, then?" "Girls-only things?"

I start thinking about all the things I enjoy chattering with Tory while doing. Freida's hobby is money. Playing with dolls like a normal girl is probably outside her norm. That might still be fun, but apart from that, there's not whole lot of things we could do to spend time playing.

"Like, taking baths together and wash each other's hair, or just lazing around on the bed and chatting about things, you know, things only girls can do with each other?" "Why, that sounds wonderful! Well, to start, let's go see the cook about making this sweets, okay?"

Freida grabs my hand and pulls me along towards the kitchen. There, I see a slightly chubby older woman who looks to have just finished tidying up after breakfast. She looks to be around the same age as my mother, and her demeanor seems to be much like Lutz's mother, Auntie Carla's.

"Ilse, Ilse," says Freida. "About the sweets we're going to be making today..." "Yes, yes, young lady," she replies. "You're going to make them with your friend? You've told me about this very many times by now." "What kind of ingredients might we be able to use?" I ask. Ilse's raises her eyebrows the tiniest bit. "When you say ingredients, just what are you planning to use?" "Ummm, basically, flour, butter, sugar, and eggs. We don't have sugar at my house, so we use jam or honey, but if I might ask, do you have any here?"

Depending on your tools and ingredients, there's a huge difference in the kinds of sweets that you can make. There's a very good reason behind the fact that all I've been able to make at Lutz's house has been pancakes and french toast.

"Yes, we have sugar." "Really?! Amazing! Um, uh, then, do you have an oven?" "We do. Do you see it over there?"

Ilse shifts slightly to one side, and I can see a large wood-fired oven behind her. My heart quickly fills with ever-increasing expectation. I clasp my hands tightly together in front of my chest, looking eagerly up at Ilse.

"Since you've got an oven, you've got pots and pans that you can use in an oven, right?" "Of course we do." "And scales?" "That's right."

Ilse shrugs her shoulders as if I'm asking the most obvious things in the world; I, however, jump for joy.

"Woohoo! We can bake a 'cake'!"

Recipe after recipe bubbles up through my brain. Of course, these are recipes that I know the various ingredient quantities for.

Huh? But... even though I remember the recipes, I don't actually know how to translate grams into this world's units of weight. What do I do now?2

Since I've been focusing so hard on the thought of making sweets, this completely slipped my mind, but you need more than just ingredients and tools to make sweets. If you don't get the amounts of each ingredient just right, it'll end up a failure.

When I was making parucakes at Lutz's house, I did it all by intuition, which meant that the puffiness and thickness varied every time. Since my audience was boys who didn't actually care about anything except quantity, I managed to pull it off, but if I want to make something in earnest, I need precise measurements.

Isn't there anything I can do? Some sort of sweet that I can make without being able to measure things in grams...

I try to recall any recipes that I can make without knowing the measurements, and come up with something that fits exactly from a book I read on French cuisine.

"Ummm, I think we should make a kind of sweet called a 'pound cake'."

Pound cake, or quatre-quarts in French, is a cake made with equal quantities of flour, eggs, butter, and sugar. If we make pound cake, then it doesn't actually matter what the actual weight of the ingredients are. All we have to do is measure the same amount on the scale.

"I haven't heard of it," says Ilse. "What kind of sweet is that?" "It's a sweet that you put equal amounts of flour, eggs, butter, and sugar into." "You really want to make something like that?"

Ilse looks at me with startled eyes. I flinch a little bit, then walk back my previous remarks.

"...If that's not okay then we can make something else?" "It's not that it's not okay, but do you really know how to make something like that?" "Yes!"

I get her to promise to make sure the oven is ready by the time we're ready to make sweets, and then Freida and I withdraw from the kitchen. After that, we start looking for some aprons for the two of us. Freida, who has never helped around the house in her life, seems to have never worn an apron before. One of the female servants digs some out and offers them to us, asking if they're what we're looking for. We put them on, and then cover our hair with large handkerchiefs folded into triangles.

When the time we promised to start cooking comes around, we head to the kitchen, where Ilse is there. She looks down at us, a mirthful twinkle in her eye.

"Oh my, young lady," she says to Freida. "You look quite fired up!" "That's right. I will be helping make it as well!"

Unfortunately, we don't have a cake pan, so instead we find a small iron pot to use instead. Then, we get to work.

"So, how about you start by explaining how to make this?" asks Ilse. "If I don't understand the process from start to finish I won't be able to make it." "Of course," I reply. "First, we need to measure out the ingredients. Then, we need to warm the eggs up to about body temperature and then whip them together with the sugar." "How should we warm up the eggs?" "Umm, we could fill up a bigger bowl with hot water and put the bowl with the eggs in there." "Ah, a water bath. Then, before we measure the ingredients, we need to heat up the water first."

Unlike with a gas stove, we can't actually boil water immediately. This is really obvious, but since I haven't seriously made a cake before, there are absolutely going to be trivial details that I just won't notice.

"Whipping the eggs and sugar together is the most important part. Once they're whipped until they stand, then we slowly cut in sifted flour. Then, we add melted butter, but very carefully to avoid ruining the eggs." "We'll need to melt the butter too. Once everything's mixed, then we bake it?" "That's right."

Ilse, who seems to have understood the directions, takes out a scale and places it on the prep counter. Then, she starts giving us directions on how to measure out the ingredients, which have already been lined up for me. While Freida instructs us on the use of the scale, Freida and I measure out equal quantities of each ingredient. Meanwhile, Ilse starts heating up the water.

First, we measure out the eggs and the sugar, then warm them up in the hot water. When they get up to body temperature, Ilse devotes herself to whipping them together. How frothy they are will have a big difference on the cake's fluffiness and flavor. As she does this, Freida and I measure out the flour and butter.

"This should be perfect," says Ilse. "Let's coat the inside of the pan with butter now." "Why?" "It's so that we can make sure it's easy to take the cake out of the pan."

We smear butter all around the inside of the pot, then lightly dust it with flour. Since we have neither a cake pan nor anything to use as parchment paper, we don't have a choice.

"Next, should we sift the flour?"

We start sifting the flour, taking care not to send it flying everywhere. We sift it three times in total, since it's really important that it be full of air.

"Oh my," says Freida, "the eggs were yellow, but now they're white, and they've grown quite a bit in size."

As Ilse whips the eggs, her whisk clattering against the bowl, Freida looks at her with some sort of envy. It's really obvious that she wants to help with the whipping, so Ilse laughingly offers the bowl and the whisk to her.

"Want to try?" "I do!"

She happily starts whipping the eggs, but very quickly hands the bowl back. Without a hand mixer, making a cake is a very strenuous process.

"How does this look?" asks Ilse, showing me the bowl of whipped eggs and sugar. "Perfect! Now we add the flour."

We set the sifter once again on top of the bowl and slowly add the flour. Using a wooden spatula, I cut the flour into the eggs and sugar.

"We'll mix it like this. Next will be the butter. Is it melting?" "That's right," says Ilse, "after we warmed up the water I put the butter next to the stove." "Miss Ilse, please switch with me. My arms are really tired..." "Good grief," she laughs. "Neither of you two young ladies has any strength."

Smiling, she switches with me. We add the butter to the dough in much the same way, then mix it together. Freida brings the pot we're using as our cake pan over, then looks on with gleaming eyes.

"While we're pouring it in, we need to hit the pan like this so that we don't have any bubbles."

Since the pot is so heavy, I leave it to Ilse. Ever since the start of this process it seems that she didn't think Freida and I could actually do this, so she helpfully follows along with my instructions.

"Now, once it bakes in the oven, it'll be all finished."

Since I don't really know how to use a wood-fired oven, I think leaving that to Ilse is the best idea. When she opens the oven, a blast of heat roars out. She quickly puts the cake batter inside, then closes the door with a clank.

"I think it'll be done by the time we finish cleaning up," I say.

We try to help Ilse out as she briskly moves through the kitchen, tidying things up, but wind up caught halfway between help and hindrance. Freida, who can't stop expectantly fidgeting, looks very cute.

"Is it done yet, I wonder?" "Not yet," I reply.

Ah, now that I think about it, there aren't any bamboo skewers in this world, are there? How the heck am I going to check to see if it's done?

Translator's notes for this chapter:

1. The room is described as bigger than an 8-tatami mat room, which is approximately 3.6m square. I've rounded up to preserve the feel of the estimate. 2. Recipes in Japan (actually, outside the US) are generally measured in terms of weight and not volume, so instead of a recipe calling for a cup of flour it would call for 120 grams.

prev • next