#this is really funny. also you take a class on horticulture? that is really really cool i hope you’re enjoying it

[werewolfstory]

i will be in my actual like. horticulture class learning about various plants and stuff and then like hollyhock or something will be mentioned and i just have to go "wow like in werewolfstory'' (<has no idea who hollyhock is actually or hollyhock's role in the story)

This is the true werewolfstory experience

[star-anise]

You just posted like ten different things about potatoes in the span of maybe five minutes, and I gotta know your take on "The Martian".

Like, the (fictional) man alone on a planet literally only survives because of potatoes shrink-wrapped in plastic for a Thanksgiving meal. If they weren't slated to be on Mars for Thanksgiving, he would have died.

And Andy Weir (author of the original novel) did such a good job with the science of every other element to the story, I honest-to-god believe that potatoes could actually manage to grow in Martian soil (even if that's not been proven for certain afaik).

Which means..... could potatoes terraform Mars into sustaining life??? Are potatoes the key to the universe???

Haha sorry for going so hard on them! Those were mostly all posts from 2020 when gardening and fantasy worldbuilding were lockdown fixations for me. One of them blew up recently so I wanted to give The People more of the content it seemed they were looking for. I don't actually know a lot about potatoes. I just think they're neat.

I do not want to take apart the concept of "colonizing Mars" as some kind of woke gotcha. I want to take your question seriously and charitably. However, I just am the kind of person who's like "Hmm, 'colonize', we should really stop and unpack that word," so let's do that, without forgetting the potato element.

(What "I don't know a lot" means: Potatoes were a crop my family grew several acres of for a few years on our farm before we switched our focus to sheep. I am about 50% as reliable as a horticultural brochure on various potato diseases and growing condition issues. I have listened to two University lectures and read perhaps four historical journal articles beginning-to-end on how the Columbian Exchange affected early-modern Europe, that and half as much again on medieval and early modern European farming practices and population changes, and perhaps three science/history articles specifically on the domestication and proliferation of the potato. I am a white Canadian who actively seeks out information and training in Indigenous history and culture in the Americas, but that's probably still only equal to like, two Native Studies classes in university. I know more than the average person on this topic, but I am also not an expert compared to people who have devoted serious time to learning about this.)

But I have some intuitions in a couple of ways:

The Martian is probably being wildly over-optimistic about its potatoes. They would probably have been irradiated into sterility before being vacuum-packed, and I don't think you can split and propagate them that quickly or successfully. However, potatoes can definitely grow in all kinds of conditions (including under my sink).

They might not be the world's healthiest or happiest potatoes, tho. Soil quality definitely affects the end product. Presumably Watney, being a botanist studying Mars' soil composition, knew how much he had to ameliorate his soil with latrine compost (which would definitely have needed a LOT of processing, since human waste is generally not good for plants, but maybe he used chemicals to speed that up?) to get good soil. However, we would probably need to add a LOT of shit to Mars' soil (and air, and water) for it to host plant life.

Mark Watney makes a joke about having "colonized Mars" because "colony" is Latin for "farm" and he farmed on Mars so haha, funny joke! And we talk about colonies on Mars partly because that's what science fiction did, and a lot of science fiction has been into that colonialism aesthetic. But colonialism and empires actually aren't great, not just because they necessitate huge amounts of racism, oppression, and genocide—I know, you asked me a fun question about potatoes and did not sign up for this, I'm not here to drag you, hear me out—but because they're also really sucky models for agriculture and successful societies generally.

My British ancestors tried to be colonial farmers in a place that is sometimes colder than Mars (Canada's Treaty Six), and let me tell you: IT SUCKED. Most of the crops and herbs and vegetables and flowers that settlers here brought from home and are used to? DON'T FUCKEM GROW. For the Canadian prairies to become conventional farmland, farmers and scientists had to scramble to find, or produce, cold-hardy varieties of everything from wheat to roses. A lot of flowers and plants that are unkillable invasive zombie perennials in other climates don't survive our winters no matter hard we try. The trees and flowers that hold cultural or sentimental attachments for us often don't grow here. The climate is so harsh and population is spread so thin that we cannot do the 100 mile diet and eat foods we're familiar with, and can hardly even manage the 1000 mile diet. (Not that I try, but, my family did once look into it)

A huge number of colonial homesteads, where the pioneers go out on their little covered wagon and build little houses on the prairie? Failed miserably and got bought up by land speculators. My own family came out to Alberta in the 1880s and moved around from land assignment to land assignment, like, six times before settling at their current place in the early 1900s.

Meanwhile: POTATOES

Potatoes are less than ten thousand years old! I am not any kind of expert on archaeology, please nobody throw things, but humans showed up in the Andes (think: high, cold mountains) of South America roughly 9,000 years ago. There are hundreds of wild potato varieties, but they generally produce fairly tiny tubers. It took active work of Indigenous Andean people around 8,000 years ago around Lake Titicaca to cultivate specific strains of potato, doing oldschool genetic modification to make them bigger, more delicious, and hardier. From that cultivation effort around a single species of wild potatoes, they produced thousands of cultivated potato varieties.

Ancient Andean farmers and botanists also played a big part in cultivating quinoa from wild amaranth, as well as producing modern food crops you probably haven't heard of, like oca, olluco, mashua, and yacon, and also coca, which may get a bad rap because it's what cocaine and coca-cola are made from but you cannot deny it's got kick.

Basically, Indigenous people of the Americas (South, Central, and North) went all in on botany and plant cultivation. Plants that we take for granted now have mostly been developed by Indigenous people in the past few thousand years: Tobacco, sunflowers, marigolds, tomatoes, pumpkins, rubber, vanilla, cocoa, sweetcorn, maize, and most kinds of pepper except peppercorn. These things were not found; they were made, by careful cultivation of the world as it was.

This gives us a vision of the future. Colonization, and industrial agriculture, both lean us towards the vision of a totally uniform end product, with the same potato varieties grown on each farm because we have made every farm the same. Instead we could embrace biodiversity and focus on privileging local knowledge and considering the interactions of environment, plants, microbiota, and people. We could create potatoes that were happy on Mars. We could create Mars that is happy to have us. We could create a society that can accept what Mars has to offer.

A lot of why we dream about colonizing Mars is the idea that the Earth itself is dying, that we are killing it, and we need to abandon this farmstead and seek out a new frontier. I acknowledge that shit is bad, but I don't agree with that framing. I am increasingly persuaded that there is a third path between ecological destruction and mass exodus, and I think we need to reject European colonial mentality that creates the forced choice. I find far more use in privileging the knowledge of people who live on and with land than their landlords and rulers, and I especially find value in Indigenous knowledge of land management practices and food production.

I am absolutely not saying that Indigenous people were or are wonderful magical ~spiritual beings~ who frolicked in an Edenic paradise that only knew death and disease once white people showed up. This isn't noble savage bullshit, nor am I invoking people who existed once but whom I have never met. I am saying that I have Indigenous neighbours, colleagues, relatives, and elected representatives. I have learned about mental health, leatherworking, botany, and ecology from Metis and First Nations elders and knowledge-keepers. And like. They have good and useful shit to say.

This is about culture, not race. It is not that their biological DNA means that they know more than me about how to get food from this landscape. It's about cultural history and what we learn from our heritages. What have our cultures privileged? Like, Europe has historically been super into things like metallurgy, domesticating livestock, and creating dairy products. If I want to smelt iron or choose animals to make cheese from, European society would have a lot of useful information for me! And what Indigenous cultures in the Americas have historically focused on instead of cows and copper* include 1) getting REAL familiar with your local flora and figuring out how to make sure you have lots of the herbs and grains and roots and berries you need, and 2) how to make a human society where people can live and have good lives, but do not damage the environment enough to impair the ability of future generations to have the same sort of life.

*Several indigenous American cultures did practice various forms of metallurgy. It's just one of those proportional things, about what societies really go for

Conclusion

I think we could use the processes that formed the potato to find and foster forms of life that could survive on Mars. It would involve learning to think that botany is a sexy science, and understanding just how rich and complicated the environment is. To oxygenate the atmosphere, we'd have to get super enthusiastic about algae and lichen and wetlands. We would have to learn to care deeply about the microorganisms living in the soil, and whether the potatoes are happy.

We'd have to create an economy that counts oxygen and carbon dioxide production on its balance sheets. To learn how to wait for forests to grow back after a fire, instead of giving up in despair because the seedlings aren't trees yet. To do the work now and be hopeful even though we might not see the payoffs for decades, or our victories might only be witnessed by future generations.

So yes, I think we could totally plant potatoes on Mars

But I also think that if we ever got there, we'd have turned into the kind of people who could also save Earth in the first place.

Which makes it a good enough goal in my opinion.

[commanderfoxdeservesbetter]

Clones in college thoughts? You’re awesome btw

It’s funny cuz I’m in college now skjskjskj so I guess you can say I’m an expert 😏😂 but yesssss I got some thoughts on this (also thank you!! My confidence really going up with these 😭 you’re awesome too!! And I hope you enjoy - also I apologize y’all but I’m American so this will be based on American college types 😬)

Fox is a business major. He hates it more than anything but at the very least, he wants to know the ins and outs of everything so he can take advantage of those who prey on the innocents (cough bring down the corporations cough)

He’s also the type of college student who’s a homebody and prefers to stay in versus going out and drinking

Thorn is also a business major but he’s that one dude who’s in a frat (Chi Sigma) that throws the best parties!! Everyone loves him and he’s chill with almost all the professors

Everyone wonders how they are friends as they are the complete opposite but it works

Quinlan Vos is a one of their professors and he makes deez nuts and that’s what she said jokes but his class is super hard to pass so no matter how chill he is, everyone still has to study for his class 😫

Cody is a horticulture major. He drew a sun on his armor - I can see him definitely being into plants. He gets made fun of by his brothers but he already has a job lined up for him after graduation so who’s laughing now Rex!

Bly is a elementary Ed major. He changed his major because he met a cute girl who was in that major and he wanted to talk to her more. Jokes on him because he ended up falling in love with teaching

Also the girl ended up transferring but he met his fiancé Aayla later that semester so it doesn’t matter

Hound would be an animal science and pre-vet major. He loves animals and knew he wanted to work with them since he was little. Grizzer is his service animal (I’m thinking a Boxer) who is trained to watch out for his epilepsy

Wolffe is a psychology major - he doesn’t exactly know what he wants to do but he knows he wants to help people. He choose it after being discharged from a mental hospital for attempted suicide

Howzer is a political science and pre-law major. He’s really into Social Justice and wanting to make a change. He’s already done internships for law firms and volunteering for getting people signed up to vote. He plans to go to Law School after graduation

Howzer is also in a fraternity but a different one to Thorn’s (Kappa Chi). This frat is more lowkey and chill

Kix is a nursing major. He likes to say he isn’t like other nursing majors but he’s often found in the library surrounded by piles of books and cups of coffee

He’s in the same fraternity as Jesse (Delta Alpha Kappa) and they go partying every Thursday

He somehow still has a GPA of a 4.0 and is in the nursing honor society

Coric is a kinesiology major who often hangs out with Kix at the library. He prefers the country bars over the other bars in Coruscant and is apart of the Rodeo Team

Hardcase is a sports business major and a student athlete. He’s on the football team (American football 🏈) and is the middle Linebacker

He is often times late for class because he sleeps in so often but he also brings an extra coffee with him as penance so most of professors don’t care

Jesse is on the basketball team and in the ROTC program; he is one of the most involved people on campus that almost everyone knows his name from Orientation to Tour Leader to President of his Frat to an officer in another organization ALL WHILE working two jobs

Rex doesn’t know how he does it all but if he’s hanging with Kix, it makes sense

Rex is an digital media major with a minor in photography. He just really loves art however he worries about not finding a job after graduation and have started talking to Fox to help him with getting connected to employers

Fives and Echo are those STEM majors. Fives is a biochemistry and pre-Med major and Echo is a computer science major.

Fives is a total nerd for chemistry and would have chosen that as his sole major but the biology major would better help him for the pre-Med track or so his advisor says

A lot of people have underestimated Echo in his ability to do his job due to his prosthetics however he has created many apps and programs for different companies and hasn’t even graduated college yet

He has a job lined up for a top company after graduation

Tech is his STEM study buddy whom he joins with at the library

Tech is an double engineering and physics major and he creates his own robots for fun. Echo thinks he’s slightly crazy and swears he’s never seen the man sleep

Tech does but only like a maximum of 3 hours a night

Gree is a English major with a focus in literature and creative writing. He wants to publish his own books one day but right now is focusing on trying to get a job at a publishing company

He has won 2 writing competitions and has one short work published in the Coruscant Fiction Journal

This is all I can think of right now but yea

[worminstuff]

mcyts as teachers

in my brain. lol. thisisjustmyopiniondontattakpls

dream smp edition!!!

i got way to carried away HOLY

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Mr.Wastaken - math

he’s that one math teacher dude whos friends with all his students

funky👏tys👏 and👏 button ups👏

somehow teaches everything so everyone understands

the students won’t bully eachother if he bully’s them first.

everyone does their work and then when everyone is done and just chillin, he’ll tell a story or just talk to them

Mr.Blade - english

he’s that english teacher that if you ask the right question they’ll go on a tangent and you’ll get to not do work for like 30 minutes minimum.

Mr.Blade seems mean but is super sweet to his students. (especially the quiet ones)

never makes them do presentations

Mr.Jacobs - history

is 100% best friends with his students.

so many handshakes

Mr.Karl is literally the best dressed teacher there is and is so nice to all his students. he is easy going on grading but is a tad hard on late work.

totally doesn’t sneak off to kiss coach sapnap sometimes

Mr. Quack - spanish

HOLA NIÑOS

gets so hyped with his students.

kahoot kahoot kahoot sm kahoot

Mr.Quacks class is the one everyone hopes they get and constantly looks forward to. thinks like baking spanish food, watching spanish soap operas, and many more fun ways Mr.Quack has thought of to show them different aspects of spanish culture

Mrs. Nihachu - art

the classroom the kids with anxiety sit in during lunch

gives her students hugs whenever they need them

has art her students have made for her all over her classroom walls and desk

drawer full of candy

Coach Sapnap & Coach Punz - PE

LETS GOOOOOOOO

so scary. they are so so scary.

also the sweetest somehow.

the duo is always constantly trying to create new games to keep students active and they work hard to make sure everyone is happy and being included if they want to, or have an alternative if they don’t.

they play in team games like kickball and get HELLA competitive, it makes for a whole lot of fun inside jokes between them and their students.

the smack talk- holy-

Mr.Fundy - furry science- jk. biology

the👏most👏fun👏science👏teacher

every time they have labs he wears a funky lab coat and goggles

his students make fun of him and he loves it

is a tough grader but makes the class easy and makes it a comfy place so kids won’t be scared to ask questions when they need

electives:

Mr.Notfound - engineering

he’s the type of teacher to put up a video on days he’s tired

actually really enjoys bantering with students, and is super lenient with how much they can talk during classes

a lot of his work is hands on so there’s many bits and bobbles around his room and it’s always a mess

“you’ll need the stuff for the soddering machines but i’m not actually sure where they are...”

the students are well aware that class is WAY more fun when Mr.Notfound is in a good mood.

Mr.Wastaken drops by when he has free periods cause he loves to annoy visit Mr.Notfound

Teacher Eret - sociology

his room is the safe space where you go if you need a good hug or a good cry

kids also eat lunch here

memes on da walls and things hanging from the ceiling

talks with his hands and laughs with the students when they mock him and do it when he does

“TEACHER ERET! you will not believe what sarah did!!” “tell me right now!”

Mr.Dude - comp. science

is always asking students how they feel like they’re doing

brings lunches for students he notices not having any

“snack break anyone?” opened drawer full of goldfish

stands in the hallways during passing time so he can watch out for his kiddos and make sure no ones being mean to anyone

high-fives all the time constantly

Mr.Soot - drama

literally so dramatic all the time for no reason

relentless hamilton references

he’s the type of drama teacher to adore his students and have them adore him back. he loves hearing all the unique ideas and loves to watch kids grow into their shell as they take his class

his favorite thing is watching quiet kids learn they love acting and become more confident

students share their own scrips and plays they write and he absolutely melts every time

Mr.Shlatt - political science

the teacher that everyone tries to get mad cause it’s funny

starts arguments between students because he loves to watch kids grow into their opinions and learn to debate with others

teaches them how to win arguments and it blows up in his face cause they start using his tactics against him

Mr. Halo - self defense

no 🚫 swearing 🚫 zone

gives the biggest hugs to kids that seem sad

he teaches in mostly talking ways where he explains everything but he also loves demonstration lessons

he always has kids talking to him about other teachers that may annoy them or have given them a bad grade because Mr.Halo always has their back

Mr.Skeppy - money management

he’s that one teacher that isn’t really close with his students but every once in a while he’ll get a group of kids that he enjoys and it makes the class a lot more fun

pizza party after tests if everyone passes

actually holds meme contests for literally no reason

Mr.H - hospitality

has whiteboard desks in his class cause he is THAT cool

is always asking kids what the drama is atm cause he wants to be in the know

has holiday party’s in class for EVERY holiday. if you have him as a teacher you’ll be celebrating every holiday for however long you have him. he just lives for a good party.

also has a snack drawer

Mr.Frost - horticulture

shelves and shelves of plants. gives his fav students ones to take home

literally the sweetest teacher, every student understands you can not be rude to Mr.Frost it’s just criminal to do so

another huggy teacher. he just loves his kiddos with his whole heart

the least amount of work for a class out of all of them

he’s definitely that teacher thay takes his class outside every chance they get, and the students l o v e it

staff:

Mr.Minecraft -headmaster/principal

he’s the reason the school has like 0 REAL trouble makers.

everyone’s scared of him, but only because they don’t want to disappoint him.

he creates the best rallies and makes school events fantastic

100% dances at school dances sometimes

Mrs.Puffy - councilor

everyone adores her. even other teachers.

she councils Mr.Wastaken when he needs dating advice. *cough cough* Mr.Notfound *cough cough*

literally 3 drawers full of snacks.

is the founder of their schools GCA and it’s the best thing

let’s kids skip class in her office when they have a panic attack or are to anxious to go

had to have a chat with Coach Sapnap because of how many kids were coming from his PE class having panic attacks (he felt really bad, he’s just intense sometimes)

loves to sit in on Mr.Quackitys classes

Teacher callahan - substitute

he subs in sometimes and when students find out Teacher callahan is subbing that day they freak the fuck out

so much kahoot

how can one man start such party’s without speaking a word

terrorizes Mr Wastakens classes when he can and LOVES to pop in on the PE classes especially when they’re doing something wicked fun and he feels like beating sapnap at something

[fountainpenguin]

Aight I had a wack dream I needa share with you. I was in this like cyberpunk dystopian futuristic city, and walking down the street I found out that you were living in one of the city sewer holes. I told you that I was excited to meet you because I got one of my friends to change their birthday to about a month difference so that it would be on Jardine’s birthday, and I showed you a tiny Sanderson figurine on a platform I made 1/2

(2/2) Then you were like oh I have sand to make that even better! And started tossing lots of wet sand out of the sewer hole, and I was like omg thank you!!! and grabbing as much wet sand with my hands as I could. I think it was supposed to be a pun. Now I need to know when Jardine’s birthday is?

—

Wild.

Jardine’s birthday is in September! Probably early September. That’s because I have a doodle in my sketchbook of him that I saw every day of September while taking notes in my horticulture class years ago. I always thought it was a funny doodle because I have a ton of unlabeled pixie drawings, but I can always tell who is who even though they’re supposed to be identical. In his case, it’s because he’s the only one I draw with short sleeves and thick gloves. If I remember correctly, his sunglasses are also brown.

We don’t see Jardine often, but he’s one of my favorite pixies since he’s a good friend of Sanderson’s and Foop’s ex-babysitter. Sometimes I doodle him, but I didn’t think any of you really knew or cared about him so I keep those doodles to myself. Next time I do one I’ll have to show you guys and give him a little love.

I say “Hello” from dreamland!

—

Last night I had a dream that Sanderson was in too! There was some kind of roleplay Sims game where I was in charge of his character, but I basically just built him a house and kept him fed. He had autonomy to do his own stuff.

I wasn’t just a player, but also in the game myself. My parents gifted me a pet parrot - I named him Velvet - and I was very excited because he was a sweetie. A few minutes later, I find Sanderson making jealous social media posts about the parrot. Even in my dreams and towards a pet, he’s jealous for attention!

[cinnbar-bun]

Gakuen Fantasy

A/n: Hi did you know I like making AU’s at 11 PM??? Also this was inspired by me playing too many otomes. 

Edit: thank you Discord for helping me with Siegfriend, Lancey, and Seruel. 

Welcome to Phantagrande High, where people of all shapes, sizes, and powers are invited to hone in their skills and talents. As the new Language Arts teacher recruited to the school, you must adjust to the hectic lifestyle of some of the most insane personalities you have ever met. Although...maybe you could learn a thing or two from those romantic stories you’ve been teaching and spice up your love life? 

Romanceable Options~

The Wise and Calm Principal, Lucifer: The man who started this whole new mess for you. Ever the diplomat, he has a way with words and can seemingly diffuse any situation with one phrase alone. All the faculty and students respect him dearly, and in turn, he respects them as well. But he hasn’t been known to get too close to anyone romantically, perhaps you could change all that? 

The Blunt and Fearless Vice-Principal, Sandalphon: Although he may act like he hates his job, he takes it quite seriously. Many students fear him for the simple fact he has such a short fuse and will blow up on anything. The faculty isn’t all too scared, knowing he’s just a sensitive guy on the inside (and they can’t help but make jabs at him after he took the coffee machine into his office). Ever the hard-head, he’s never experienced love before, and he sure as hell will never admit that aloud (even though it’s quite obvious). But that can change once he softens up with a bit of your love. 

The Sadistic and Ruthless Biology Teacher, Lucilius: This man is one that EVERYONE fears. Even Lucifer has been trying to get him fired. Rumors spread around that he eats children who fail his class or dissects those who chew gum in his class. He has a fascination with the world around him and loves conducting research over everything he can get his hands on. He also gets a bit too excited over dissections. It also doesn’t help that he has a short temper and expects perfection from his students, who all cry at least three times in his class. He takes no shit and hands out insults like greetings, so if he tends to take a jab at you, ignore him. But what’s hiding under that cold front he puts up (answer: an even bigger asshole)

The Raunchy and Suave A&P Teacher, Belial: If shameless was ever a person, it would be Belial. He has no qualms about flirting with everything that breathes (DON’T WORRY HE’S NOT FLIRTING WITH THE CHILDREN!! HE HAS SOME BOUNDARIES OVER HERE!!) but he seems to have taken a liking to you. He’s quite popular with some of the female students (for some inexplicable reason) and he loves messing with the other three men on top. What’s the point of life without taking some risks? But are you prepared to handle this absolute demon of a man? Maybe you’ll find something worthy under the messy persona he plays up? 

The Kind and Sweet Home Ec Teacher, Vane: This man is absolutely perfect, every girl (and guy) will admit. Although he’s not too bright, he makes up for it with his big heart (that really accentuates his chest) and warm smile. He’s very fair and forgiving, and every student that walks in walks out with a better understanding of how to manage day by day activities. He’s eager to become great friends with you, but maybe you could be something more? 

The Bubbly and Clutzy Home Ec Teacher, Beatrix: One of the other Home Ec teachers who seems to have quite the reputation for being an adorable clutz. The male populous tends to take her class for an easy a but can’t help it when she drops things. The students think she’s very funny and sweet, and her food is great (when it actually is cooked). She usually complains about her ‘absolutely boring’ life in the teacher’s lounge and wishes for a day when she’s whisked off into a sweeping romance. You might not be a prince from another country, but you could give her the love she needs, right? 

The Cold and Stern Economics Teacher, Aglovale: No one knows he’s also the CEO of a very popular business, and he knows economics like the back of his hand. The general consensus in him is a very respected one, and he makes sure to always keep a good light on him. He pretends he doesn’t care for the kids, but all the teachers know better. A very good bonus, he has glasses and his voice has been known to be extremely pleasing to the ears. He may act aloof around you, but do you think you have what it takes to melt his cold heart? 

The Fiery and Hotheaded Math Teacher, Percival: The younger brother of Aglovale, who also helps him occasionally with running the business. He’s a lot more open than his brother and tends to give attitude back though. The students love him a lot and go absolutely nuts when he’s roasting a kid who likes to mouth off. He’s exceptionally by the book and has certain expectations he wishes of people. You may have caught his eye, newbie, but can you really keep its hold? 

The Loud and Militaristic PE Teacher, Ilsa: A rather scary lady on the outside who takes her job as a PE teacher a bit too seriously. A lot of people will complain about how hard she is, but the athletes worship her like she’s their goddess. Seriously, they’ve never one as many times as they had until she’s come along. Her form of tough love tends to grate people the wrong way, but deep down, she’s really trying to find someone who will look past the ‘scary’ her.

The Hardworking yet Princely Engineering Teacher, Yurius: A man of many talents regarding creating anything, who tends to be more of a behind the scenes worker. He isn’t too flashy, and makes up for his more quiet behavior with cheeky jokes and genuine concern. Hopefully you make a good impression with him, and learn just how much a goof he really is inside. 

The Thunderstruck and Loyal Physics Teacher, Albert: A man who’s best friends with Yurius, and happens to love teaching about electricity. Physics is practically coursing through his veins and he makes sure his students are all on the same page. Not that much of a surprise, but him and Yurius run the robotics club and they seem to always win. He may look rather cold, but he is a really nice guy and will gladly show you the ropes or give you the best advice on some of the students and faculty. Maybe you two could teach each other a thing or two about love? 

The Seductive and Sweet Horticulture Teacher, Rosetta: This woman is the envy of all. Her sweet words can coax anyone to her beck and call. The greenhouse where she teaches at has become her new home, and many grow to love nature and plants due to her beautiful and poetic lessons and demonstrations. She can get quite flirty and beat around the bush, but know this, every rose has its thorns. If you mess with her, prepare for a life of hell. But otherwise, she’ll be a wonderful companion in your life if you manage to look deep inside and find the true beauty within her. 

The Patient and Inspirational Music Teacher, Caro: A rather young man who has been with the academy since day one. He lives for the creative endeavors of his students and has no problems with helping them step by step. To him, the most beautiful thing ever is not gold or jewels, but the sounds people can create. He was really interested by your presence and wishes to get closer to you, although he is rather shy about doing so. The sound his heart makes when he’s around you makes him absolutely smitten, and he hopes to get closer to experience all of what love has to offer. 

The Curious and Eccentric World Religions Teacher, Shiva: His appearance might startle some, but they quickly learn that he is passionate about his subject. He is always curious about what humans believe and how they go about their faith, and it makes him smile knowing the beauty of humanity. Some might call him a weirdo for being so in love with that, but he pays no mind. He is his own person, and he craves more and more. Although he hates being selfish, for some reason, he can’t help but want to know more about you. You’ve been a peculiar person, and he thinks he’d like to learn more. 

The Lazy and Rowdy Chemistry Teacher, Elmott: A man who is a self proclaimed pyromanic, who takes far too much pleasure in setting things on fire. He is unafraid of speaking his mind and will let everyone know what he’s thinking, whether they’re a student or faculty member. He can get mouthy, but he truly cares about his students and their education, and is the first to defend them if something is wrong. He quickly earns the respect of his students and fellow teachers, even if he pretends he doesn’t know what they’re talking about. Trust us, he isn’t a bad guy, no matter what he says. 

The Mysterious and Unknown Cryptid, Siegfried: A man who does... well know one really knows? Even Lucifer can’t give a straight answer. But it doesn’t matter since he tends to do the odd jobs or the ones no one really wants to do. Some kids claim he lives in a dungeon under the school. Others say the big shadow they saw trimming the bushes is secretly a lizard monster who is trying to infiltrate the government. Again, no one really knows. But the gentle giant who helped you with the copier machine certainly can’t be that bad, right? 

The Helpful and Stressed Counselor, Lancelot: The most reliable counselor the school’s ever seen. The kids absolutely adore him, and his job ranges from settling disputes between the students to helping them with their college applications. This man has connections and could probably hook you up with something wonderful. Because he can never say ‘no’, he stresses himself beyond belief. Of course, his best buddy Vane is always there to help him remember to eat and not drown himself with alcohol. Maybe you could show him that he is capable of taking a break and not dying?

The Smartass and Stoic Librarian, Seruel: A man of culture who really hates noises. He gets a bad reputation for telling the louder kids to be quiet, but really, he’s just trying to do his job. A lot of kids think he’s kinda scary because of his face, but if you ask him for help locating a book or some information on a subject (because he’s a walking encyclopedia) he’d be more than happy to help. He tends to remember frequent library-goers and likes to discuss books with them and what they thought of it. He’s read way too many trashy romance novels recommended to him by some sophomores, but he’s more than ready to start a real romance with you. If you can get past the rude jabs at first. 

A splendid array of options indeed. Are you ready to tackle your new job and try your luck at a love life? 

[vamplifyingdotjpg]

please tell me ALL about your ocs!!! 💕

I am Crying thank u so much thank u for Finally asking abt my ocs I have so many of them and I love them all so much so I’ll just sum up my few main ones and favorites (buckle up and also this whole story takes place in london as of now bc I’m uncreative):

Beckett (full name Beckett James Montgomery) is a happy little man who’s full of love and also a lot of chronic illnesses and other conditions. He just has really rough luck but he’s still pretty content with things. He’s working hard to overcome his shyness to set boundaries with others and he’s becoming a lot more confident in himself!! Of course losing a large portion of your childhood to illness and injury is pretty traumatic but he has a really solid support system. He loves his friends and is also very passionate about horticulture. And some other facts abt Beckett:

his favorite colour is pink (which is why his hair is pink throughout his teens and into his 20s but it’s naturally a mousy brown!)

he’s big gay

he’s a manlet (5'6")

he goes on to open up a plant nursery

he plays piano

his entire life is like 1/8th of a plan and 7/8ths of a prayer

Cherry Nova Griffin is a cool girl who’s super smart and just the raddest ever. She’s the older sister friend despite being the baby of her family bc she really really cares abt her friends and wants the best for them. She’s no square so she’s not gonna harsh anyone’s vibe but she is very sensible so u won’t go fucking yourself up on her watch bc she’s your voice of reason. This doesn’t mean she doesn’t partake in her friends foolishness, she just makes sure the foolishness goes smoothly. She’s super smart and very interested in science. She’s also pretty much always dressed to the nines (heavily influenced by her sister Azalea who’s a fashion icon). And some more facts abt Cherry:

her favorite colour is purple

her and elfie are the co-Just Dance™ wii champions of their friend group

she comes out as a lesbian in her 20s because that Internalized Home Of Phobia Tho

she’s 5 foot nothing she’s Small (she looks nothing like her two tall, rake thin older siblings)

her and Beckett are childhood friends, meeting when Beckett joined her class at school when they were both 7 or so

she’s always trying to prove herself to others but she has enough people around her that know how cool she is

Elfie Pepper (or Elfie Kiyoko Takemago-Pepper) is a fun, spritely Irish girl (her mom and biological father are Japanese but she was born in Ireland and raised there by her mom and now-stepdad). She’s super funny and very much the life of the party like she will always get u to chuckle. She can make any situation better just by being there bc she’s hilarious and rad. Her girlfriend is a super butch buff athlete but Elfie’s more often than not found eating lucky charms straight out of the box on her couch. She does like to skateboard tho and she’s pretty darn good at it. She’s the friend who makes all the playlists for driving/partying/chilling bc her music taste is universally liked (without her everyone would be fighting to play their own tunes she’s the peacemaker). Basically everyone likes Elfie. Now for The Facts:

she’s probably the rowdiest of the bunch. she’s like permanently cranked up to 100

Elfie is Big Lesbian

she’s a decent base player

her mom wanted to name her Kiyoko but let her hippie boyfriend pick the name Elfie for her

she moved to England when she was 12 and joined Beckett and Cherry’s squad then

She’s like 5'3" their whole squad is Tiny

Eleanor Lucille Atwin is the only one tall one in their squad. She’s 5'11" and the definite mom friend of Elfie, Cherry, and Beckett. She’s always got snacks and extra sweaters and pain medication and makeup wipes on her. She’s patient and caring and will have your back no matter what. You could indefinitely count on her in a crisis. Eleanor is also trans and has really been through it and still sometimes struggles with loving herself (not to mention dealing with transphobia) but she receives endless love and support from her friends. She’s good at painting and is always lookin super pretty. And some Eleanor facts:

she’s 20

she was born in Yukon, Canada

she joined the main group when she was 15

she’s prefers painting with watercolours

she marries her high school sweetheart (a ginger soccer/football player who’s like the only cishet guy involved in this story)

she goes on to become an interior designer bc she’s got rly good taste

Kimmo Alric Seppänen (23) is kind of a bitch, but he’s been through a Lot so it’s kind of expected. He had a really rough childhood where he was neglected severely by his parents before he was taken out of their house and placed with his adoptive parents who treated him super well and loved him a lot. He struggled a lot with fitting in and became really edgy in high school where he started dating Fredrik on and off. Then after school he had problems with addiction and did a lot of unhealthy shit but he eventually sorted it out. Now he’s living with Fredrik in London and they play in a band together (he still smokes like a pack a day). Kimmo is grumpy, and prone to lashing out, but he’s also a talented musician, wise beyond his years, and very dryly funny. He’s hard to get through to, but oddly lovable when you get to know him. And some Kimmo facts:

he was born and raised in Jyväskylä, Finland

he’s a killer guitarist and an adequate singer

he has a total of 12 piercings, most of which he got in his teens

he was diagnosed with Klinefelter’s syndrome in his early teens

he uses he/they pronouns and hes bi

his nose is crooked as shit from being broken several times

Fredrik Jeremiias Harmaajärvi is beefy and dumb. He’s the second oldest of 4 brothers. He’s like a big stupid golden retriever: cute and overall friendly, but kinda air-headed. He drinks too much (though he has captain america-level alcohol tolerance) and doesn’t notice many emotional cues from others, especially his emotionally unstable boyfriend Kimmo. When he was 21, he formed a band with some friends and Kimmo (his then ex-boyfriend whom he had newly reunited with). Kimmo and Fredrik moved to London after the band lost its two original members. Fredrik is easygoing and fun, but he has literally no brain cells. Some facts:

he’s a killer singer and an adequate guitar player

He’s also from Jyväskylä

His whole family is absolutely disgustingly beautiful (to his kinda ugly bfs dismay)

pure, unconcentrated himbo

His band is primarily punk/garage rock but Fredrik loves pop music

he’s also pretty into fitness and maintaining his image so he frequently goes to the gym (this is why he’s a big muscly Viking man)

Phoenix Delphinus Griffin is Cherry’s oldest sibling and he’s also a gem and a treasure. He’s a professional dancer and dance instructor. He’s 6'5" and all lanky, wirey muscle. He’s a laid-back, sociable guy who easily builds relationships with others. He acts super chill on the outside but he does struggle with pretty bad anxiety. He’s very fit and health conscious and is always up early to go to the gym or go for a run or drink a smoothie or whatever healthy people do. He has a number of large friend groups and is probably the most “popular” of all my ocs. And some facts abt him:

Phoenix has a phobia of drowning and is very uncomfortable with swimming in large bodies of water

he prefers contemporary ballet, but he’s trained in classical ballet and tap as well

he was once in a local production of cats the musical (he played macavity and plato due to his height and lack of singing required for the roles) and his friends won’t let him live it down

he’s bi

he dated the bassist in kimmo and fredrik’s band for a few months

he’s just a way friendly dude everyone loves him

I seriously needed motivation to make a post like this of all of them so thank u again!!!!!!!!

[needlekirby]

I only have a few minutes before I turn 18 so just in case I've been cursed by a witch or something let's go over some of the highlights of my young life: -survived multiple epileptic episodes as a young un that I apparently brought on purposefully bc I would throw a tantrum, hold my breath, pass out and induce a seizure to get what I wanted -survived all those times me (or my sister) would wake up in the middle of the night feeling like we couldn't breath and have our parents sit us in front of the running shower until we felt better -survived being hit by a car when I was like 3, the tires went over both my legs and midriff so both my legs were broken. -I also burned my knee and ankle on the fuel pipe so there's two fairly big burn scars there. -The doctors removed my appendix "while they were at it." -The radiologist and the surgeon got into a fight over whether I had one broken leg or two, radiologist won. -I was in two casts for a while and couldn't walk so I went back to being in a stroller, I was just young enough to not need physical therapy and relearned how to walk within a day. -had to be brought into court against the guy who hit me where I sat squeezing a stuffed duck that would quack loudly a few times and make everyone in the courtroom giggle. -walked into first day of first grade and after being asked to introduce myself I had the biggest near-meltdown of my life, my vision was spinning and I was scared stiff but I was saved on the spot by another kid who knew me and gave my name for me and let me sit next to them. -became known as 'the witch' in second grade bc i loved hanging out in the bushes near the playground and scaring the boys who would harass other girls. I fucking adored the nickname. -had my first crush on a girl I became friends with later over Kirby games. -my girl crush, me and another friend created a horror and ghost story club bc we loved the scary stories to tell in the dark books so much. -got the attention of the 'gifted students' teacher (basically she led classes for kids she thought were super smart and lead sessions with them where she would ask them questions and gauge how creative or intelligent they were I think) by being a smartass and saying that red was "orange minus yellow". She had my older sister in her classes and she wanted me IQ tested for this response. -my mom was not crazy about me being in these classes bc they would take time away from my regular classes and put me behind which I think was what was happening m my sister. She gave her permission to have me IQ tested tho and I was brought in from class to take it. She explained to me what was going down and I asked if the test was required. She said no, it was an optional test and I said 'well then I don't think I want to take it' and walked tf out. Mic. Drop. Third grader me was relentless. -read the tale of desperaux so many times that book fucking touched my heart it's good I was crazy about it. -in fourth grade I learned pig pen code and I loved it so much I used it all the time. I still use it now and I can write it without needing to look at a cypher. -I correctly solved the second half of a two-part math problem that needed the answer from the first part, but got the first part wrong and my fourth grade teacher brought my mom in for a meeting bc he had no idea how it did it. -On the last day of fifth grade, the really cool science teacher gave me that fancy dragonology book as a gift and it was the most genuine gesture I received from a teacher ever. -the really cool science teacher taught us that skin can grow around physical objects and that rlly stuck w me. -went on to middle school and somehow wound up in a friend group full of goths and punks, was never either of those. -our middle school had no playground so we'd just walk around the bus parking lot and I brought in chalk to draw w and inspired a back and forth conflict between the school and the students about whether chalk was allowed during recess. -a kid from the outer skirts of the goth/punk/emo/art ho gang committed suicide in 7th grade and his parents blamed their OWN KID for his suicide. -one particularly scary guy from the group said that if anyone else in the group died or killed themselves he'd "take everyone and him all with them." -ended up """going out""" this guy, we were friends at the time but I was still too scared to say no. -this boy asked me one day to 'take our relationship to the next level' I was terrified but I asked what that would be and he said 'holding hands' and I burst out laughing. -this boy would also write me love notes on graph paper with scratchy black pen and sign them off as 'the shadow prince' or some bs. -started playing Pokémon in 8th grade. -burned my first personal cd mixtape in freshman year and made playlists for the next three years and got into tons of different kinds of music. -took drivers ed freshman year and drove on the highway only the second day of behind the wheel. -slept in the classroom part of drivers ed everyday. -there was a filing cabinet in the back of the room that had the words "big booty" scrawled on them in shaky black marker and I miss that filing cabinet a lot. -took beginning art freshman year w the art teacher who hated life and watched two seniors smoke a strawberry shortcake scented hookah right in front of me. Teacher put his feet up on the table. It took a while to come back to another art class after that. -that one day in math 2 when that boy was bothering me about why I didn't shave my vag and the teacher failed him for that m&m graph assignment you do like all the time in math which he was supposed to be helping me do and I got all candies we were supposed to split -took health sophomore year where they honestly tried to tell us that sugar was the chemical equivalent of cocaine and wanted to scream so BADLY. -embarrassed myself at the psychiatrists office which will stick w me forever and anytime I ask for even very minor school accommodations FUCK U 15 YR OLD ME YOU IDIOT -took my last Latin class at the end of junior year at the same time my beloved, blessed, angelic Latin teacher was retiring after like 40 years of teaching at our school. She had amazing stories and was super funny and I miss her desperately. -took high school art for the last time. Our teacher told my friend who had done three whole watercolor pieces to branch out and didn't say a word to the kid who only ever did copic marker pieces. - took only bullshit classes all fall semester including horticulture 1 where we had no teacher for about 2 months. Now I'm finishing my senior year with community college classes and I look forward to more highlight moments now that I'm gonna be an 'adult'. Cheers lads✨🎉

[captainswanbigbang]

Final Round-Up

Thank you so much to our incredible authors and artists who participated in the first annual Captain Swan Big Bang! We had some snafus (minor and major), but everyone managed to pull through with flying colors.

Here’s the final round-up of all the stories and artwork! It’s under the cut due to length, but please be sure to check them all out!

Ready To Believe You Emma Swan doesn't believe in ghosts, or magic, and she sure as hell doesn't believe in true love, but when things start going bump in the night it's up to three enterprising (and under-worked) members of Storybrooke's sheriff's department to save the day, and hopefully find a little belief along the way. 1984 Ghostbusters AU Author: @mahstatins Artist: @jemmingart Story: 1 - 2 Artwork

The Darling Affair Ex-military officer Killian Jones has never forgiven the Gold family for what they took from him. But when his path searching for justice (and maybe revenge) leads him straight to Emma Swan, a social worker who’s young charge has just been kidnapped by Malcolm Gold, he might just learn to let go of the past. Author: @icecubelotr44 Artist: @shady-swan-jones Story: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - epilogue Artwork

How Does Your Garden Grow A chance meeting with Mary Margaret Nolan in a juvenile detention floral design class sets Emma Swan on the path to being a florist. A rehabilitation program for disabled veterans gives Killian Jones his start in horticulture. Neither one ever imagined picking those paths, but they’ll lead to each other. But can they keep the harder aspects of life from tearing them apart? Author: @theadventureofhistorygirl Artist: @shady-swan-jones Story Artwork

Anchor Me Finding yourself competing in a house renovation reality show when you can’t even tell a tell a false ceiling from a real one is a pretty dumb thing to do, and doing it with a guy you barely know is probably even worse.  But that’s where Emma has ended up and, despite the fact she prides herself on avoiding doing dumb things at all cost, she’s going to get it done, get her money and get out before anything too disastrous happens. Killian Jones is coming off a string of disasters that has cost him his career and left him with an injury there’s no hiding now.  All he wants is a little distraction, and the woman who wants him to play make-believe for some ridiculous TV show looks like she’ll fulfil that need perfectly.  He’s just not sure he can be what she wants, and he’s even less sure if he should try. And now they’re here, in Storybrooke, Maine, competing for a house they don’t really want in a competition they don’t really understand.  Understanding each other is another matter altogether, and if they can do that, then maybe they’ll both find what they’ve been looking for all along. Author: @ooshka-babooshka Artist: @ugly-duckling-ouat Story Artwork

a place in time Emma’s an agent working to reunite missing people with their families when the biggest missing persons case of all time appears in front of her in a flash of bright, white light. Thousands of missing people from throughout history, including one particular pirate, appear on the shore of a lake in the middle of winter: none have aged a day since their disappearance and, with no memory of their missing time, must venture into a strange and uncertain future. Loosely based on the TV show “the 4400.” Author: @swanslieutenant Artist: @queen-mabs-revenge Story: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 Artwork

Strange Alliances: The Life and Fights of Emma Swan Emma Swan is the only female pirate captain in all the realms. At the helm of her beloved ship, the Tallahassee, she pillages and plunders beside her Quartermaster, and brother, August Booth.

Then one day, Captain Hook climbs aboard the Tallahassee with a flirtatious smirk and a plan to bring down the greatest villain in the realms. Nottingham, no longer content with terrorizing his own domain in Sherwood Forest, has now taken to the high seas. It is up to the combined powers of Captain Swan, Captain Hook and their crews to take him down.

On the way, secrets are reveals, alliances shift and the two captains find themselves drawn to each other in more ways than one.

Meanwhile, Prince Henry receives startling information about his beginnings. Information that sets him on a journey to the deck of that very same pirate ship that Emma calls home. Author: @treluna2 Artist: @hook-and-star-ink Story Artwork

Saving the Savior Unwilling to part with their newborn infant, Snow White and Prince Charming never send Emma through a magical wardrobe on a quest that could save the kingdom. Twenty-eight years later, with no end to the curse in sight, Killian Jones arrives in the small town of Storybrooke Maine, where everything is not as it seems. With few possessions and even fewer memories, Killian must uncover the secrets of the mysterious seaside town before it is too late. Author: @sotheylived Artist: @somethingalltogether Story Artwork

Kings and Queens Emma Swan is struggling as an actress. All seems lost until she manages to swing a spot on Kings and Queens, the most popular Medieval TV Show of all time. But here’s the catch: Emma hates being in love, and acting it is proving more tricky than she first thought. Her whole world is about to change, especially working alongside her new and mysterious co-star Killian Jones. It’s been so long since Emma has opened her heart to anyone. Could she start now? Author: @artandteaandstuff Artist: @lucythemarauder Story: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - more to come Artwork

Lament of the Asphodels Killian Jones is the Keeper of Stagrock Light, the Sole Beacon of Northedge, and he lives a simple life apart from the society he serves. His entire world turns upside-down when a shipwreck leaves him with a stranded woman, the Survivor, or as her parents called her, Emma Swan.

As she recovers from her ordeal, it becomes clear that she's harboring a painful past and may even be a fugitive from the law seeking refuge in the Northmost Lands. What starts out as a simple attempt to aid someone who has fallen on hard times becomes complicated when they both begin to experience a rush of other memories that might just be from another life. Author: @dracox-serdriel Artist: @liamjcnes Story: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - more to come Artwork: 1 - 2

A Lost Boy’s Guide to Hollywood Killian Jones, put-upon Private Investigator, is hired by one Mr Gold to find his missing client, Peter Pan, a Bieber-level teenage sensation. With the reluctant help of the mysterious Emma Swan, Killian must make his way through Peter’s miscreant friends and acquaintances, into the slimy underbelly of LA in search of the missing singer, all before his scheduled appearance at the Hollywood Bowl in four days time. Author: @blessed-but-distressed Artist: @clockadile Story: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - more to come Artwork

Hit Me With Your Best Shot Emma is one of the star players of the Storybrooke Saviours dodgeball team - well, as much of a star player as you can be from a YMCA rec league team. But she loves playing, her team has won years in a row, and it gives her something to do while Henry is at hockey practice. But when the Y on the other end of town closes, it brings some new teams into the league.  Of all the things that could shake up Emma’s world, she never would have guessed it would be the captain of the other Y’s winning dodgeball team. Author: @iminwinnipegthatsincanada Artist: @liamjcnes Story: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 Artwork

Lightning Strikes the Heart Killian Jones and Emma Swan have hated each other since the moment they met. Killian is arrogant, cocky and a womanizer; Emma is standoffish, straight forward, and rude. When David and Mary Margaret ask them to be their respective Maid of Honor and Best Man, their desire to stay as far away from each other as possible, goes awry. The two must work together to make the Nolan-Blanchard wedding as perfect as possible. The best wedding gift the bride and groom could receive is for their closest friends to get along, and if they help their friends achieve their own happy ending, then who’s to stop them? Author: @thebravestprincess Artist: @swankkat Story: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 Artwork

Falling Slowly When Henry is kidnapped by the Evil Queen, Emma rushes to save him. Along the way, she receives the help of a ship’s captain with a shared past, though she has no idea just how deep that shared past really goes. Author: @phiralovesloki Artist: @swankkat Story: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - epilogue Artwork: cover - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - epilogue

Forever is Composed of Nows She’s troubled: Lady Emma Nolan of Misthaven, freshly introduced to society and at the height of her youth, is bored. Family matters and potential suitors worry her, of course, but calling on her friends and having tea with her mother can also be so tedious. But, a random  encounter on a unplanned trip into town changes Emma’s life forever and chance sends her down the path she thought she’d never considered : marriage, by way of motherhood. Author: @accio-ambition Artist: @somethingalltogether Story: 1 - 2 Artwork

Can’t Erase Me so like, i know we broke up and stuff but funny story, i haven’t told my family yet and they just assumed you’d be coming with me for my parent’s anniversary celebration and i really don’t know how to tell them and i know this is really selfish but i can’t break my mother’s heart like that (more like father’s really), they’ll probably have a heart attack- and wait what? you’d do that for me? holy shit, i love you…wait- Author: @icapturedkindness Artist: @captainodonoghue Story: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 Artwork: 1 - 2

Never Say Goodbye They say that True Love can break any curse.  But Emma has always been one to challenge the odds. Determined to save her, Killian is adamant that he’ll find the cure just through the next portal.  But what happens if he can’t? Author: @icecubelotr44 Artist: @cocohook38 Story: 1 - 2 - 3 Artwork: 1 - 2

Guilty, Your Honor “It was a one-time thing,” is definitely one of the last things you want to say to your new boss on your first day at work. For lawyer Emma Swan, this case is open-and-shut. The verdict? Completely hopeless. Author: @shipping-goggles Artist: @captainswanandclintasha Story: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 Artwork

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Hobbies are a fun way to pay your extra time. Many individuals realize that their years as a child pastimes grow into a greater curiosity about chasing a job in the related field. This really is a single reason why pastimes in children should be encouraged. Continue reading for additional details on hobbies and what they need to supply your family.

A fantastic activity to have is paintball. It may be very enjoyable to go out into an open paintball discipline and have a proper fight with your family and friends. All you need to do is purchase the proper gear, like a good paintball firearm as well as the appropriate garments.

Veggie horticulture can be a interest that is not merely soothing, but practical too. Gardening offers an opportunity to be in the fresh oxygen and sun. When harvest time rolls around, you will additionally be rewarded with healthful meals for yourself and your family. Organic growing plants is a activity that gives increase benefits.

Pastimes is able to keep you in good shape when they are personally engaged. Try out keeping energetic if you take up hobbies like bike riding, running, skating, or visiting the health and fitness center. These kinds of activities not just present you with an opportunity to have some fun, nonetheless they may help you remain healthy and appear far better.

A fun pastime to get is always to begin posting your own personal video tutorials on youtube. Lots of people post up their particular video tutorials on youtube, because of money, pleasure, or equally. You don t should be a movie specialist so as to undertake it. You just need a webcam or mobile phone.

Think of the best way to improvement with any interest you take on. After you have been doing pastime for quite a while, it may possibly begin to really feel unexciting if you do not search for techniques for getting better. If you are knitting or sailing, there is certainly always a fresh level you may reach, so strive for it.

Bicycling provides you with an awesome option to get in shape and hang out with your loved ones. Benefit from the wind blowing via your your hair throughout your bike. Bicycling can be carried out sometimes off road on on highway. A lot of people choose to ride their cycles by way of hills, while others like riding on levels terrain.

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[wendyimmiller]

Fear, Loathing, Capitulation, Relapses, A Cry for Help, and Another Empty Promise to Do Better; In a world of unfairness and charlatans, these are the real things!

Déjà vu all over again. In what is apparently becoming an abusive relationship, I again find myself the victim of Marianne Willburn’s poison pen, which, I now believe she nightly wields in her dreams, inflicting dagger-sized wounds on a field of retreating lesser writers in Play Station-like battles. For again, right here on Garden Rant, my home turf, another rebuttal. Actually, a rebuttal to my rebuttal of her rebuttal to my happy, harmless, and humorous little column, “Time for A Grexit,” which appeared in the July/August 2019 Horticulture Magazine. Just a 500-word bit of sophomoric snark I dashed off last summer when I was still sweet and hopeful. It was cute. It was funny. And, despite itself, it did manage to make a surprisingly cohesive case for American gardeners taking all their English gardening books and dumping them into Boston Harbor. I was innocent back then, and my life was so much simpler. Appallingly, it turns out that having a stalker is nowhere near as much fun as you might imagine.

The end of life as I knew it.

The most recent blog site equivalent to being repeatedly chased down the street by your neighbor’s dog.

This most recent rebuttal wasn’t unexpected.  Red flags were up after her first rebuttal, and my family and I worried that Marianne could possibly be a serial-rebuttaler. I could see her in her classy, tastefully appointed, mountain retreat, seething from my jovial retort to her first rebuttal, and working. Working! I cowered, knowing she would soon, on a day of her own choosing, emerge with another 15,000 word tirade. All of it letter perfect and grammatically correct, and crafted to turn all my loved ones against me and laying waste to all I am, all I ever was, all I’ll ever be, and everything I’ve ever loved. Including all my dead pets. And all my dead Stewartia. And, I’ve got to admit, I’ve been a nervous wreck. Pretty much, this has been the worst period of my life, which includes the bout with cancer I mentioned in a previous missive and, in fact, bring up in almost all my conversations.

The rebuttal that came out of the blue.

This is my jovial retort to her first rebuttal. Jovial, yet at the same time devastating.

Here’s the deal. After my last rebuttal, I was out of ammo. I’d used up everything I had. No quotes left in the stockpile. No more references back in the magazine. No last cache of jabs, nudges, innuendo, and implications. Not even a dull, rusty bayonet on the end of my empty rifle/poison pen with which to inflict dagger-sized wounds. So I hunkered down in my ramshackle, mismatched, patched together, horticulturist-class, Midwestern hovel, tried not to notice the leaks in the ceiling and the paint peeling from the walls, and prayed for a miracle.

And, whatya know, I actually got one. Apparently Marianne was out of ammo too. So when the inevitable time came and I looked over and saw the grenade roll into my bunker and blow up, I was pleasantly surprised that it did so with only a soft doink. No blast. No shrapnel. No carnage. What happened was more akin to an uncomfortably loud airing of the “We Are the World” video interrupting your conversation in a bar. Or maybe it’s better described as something like hearing the “I’d Like to Buy the World a Coke” commercial playing on a scratchy transistor radio on a hot day by some kid in line ahead of you at the snack bar at the community pool who walks off with the last French Chew. Or maybe it was more like an overly-affectionate, dripping wet kiss from an older aunt with a weird accent right on the face of your much younger self. Whatever metaphor best describes my response to Marianne’s newest rebuttal–and you get to choose–the fact is that while indeed unpleasant and unwanted, I survived it.

But that doink? Came to find out it was pretty passive-aggressive. One that snuck back up on me after another day and a second look. “Garden Regionally, Get Inspired Globally” was Marianne’s banner, her battle cry and l’appel aux armes. Well, who the hell can argue with that?

Brian at work.

Marianne, you pulled a good one on me. Left me dangling and looking like a real jerk. Reminds me totally of a time when I introduced another friend/nemesis and co-worker named Brian to the audience at one of our symposiums at the Cincinnati Zoo & Botanical Garden. Our ongoing “feud” was pretty well-known to most of the audience, although not all of it, and I decided to deliver the most personally insulting introduction I could imagine, laying it on thick for an awkwardly long time, bringing up typically off-limits things like divorces, and, in my mind, generously setting him up for one of his patented hilarious ripostes. But he said nothing. Just went into his talk. With big sad eyes. Made me look like a complete asshole! A master stroke!

Yep, Marianne, you got me. You got to the reasonable position first and now here I am a rubber ball dangling from a string on your paddle. Well done.

As I’ve made plain, I am but a simple gardener from the heartland forever drawn by the magnetic pull of my next Big Gulp, teetering constantly on the cusp of diabetes, and free of an opioid addiction by reasons no one understands. As such, I too am not without need of nor appreciation for inspiration. So, for you Marianne, yes, if you get that from English writers who for some reason hope to cross how-to manuals with great literature, go for it. It’s kind of weird, but whatever. Just don’t be tricked into trying Meconopsis. It’ll break your heart.

I, on the other hand, I turn to the bottle for inspiration. And, believe it or not, I only discovered that about myself while pondering this. Ironically, it also occurred to me that my method might be even more cosmopolitan than Marianne’s! While plenty of good Kentucky bourbons are close at hand, I sometimes find my inspiration from a single malt Scotch. Or a spicy Caribbean rum. Or a sexy French vodka. Or a hot-tempered Greek Ouzo. Sometimes a warm Japanese sake is just the ticket, but there are times when a smooth Canadian whisky will do just fine. Or a Mexican tequila. Or wines from almost every continent. Even, and I’m gritting my teeth a little as I admit it, an English gin. Fact is, turns out pretty much the whole planet is lousy with spirits ready to light up the masses with inspiration. This whole revelation humbles me. It fills me with wonder. Heck, I’m but a tiny speck in this big Universe. All of us are. And maybe, deep down inside, somehow, we’re all pretty much the same.

I took that idea to bed with me last night. I laid there thinking about people. And Marianne. I pictured her in her home, sitting by the fire with a cat on her lap and a Christopher Lloyd book in hand, sighing at the better passages and finding inspiration. At least between those times when she’s not shrieking abuse towards Ohio and pounding out another manifesto of a rebuttal on her keyboard. Nope. I suppose that when she settles in and watches Monty Don on Netflix that she really isn’t that much different from me when I find my inspiration by stumbling around in the garden at night, a half empty fifth of Jameson in hand, condemning myself to damnation for all the neighbors to hear by way of whatever blaspheme I bellow when I discover brittle, dead branches where my daphne used to be.

A daphne.

Daphnes. My God, how many have I loved? How many I have lost. I feel my mood changing. You know, it just isn’t fair. I just can’t get over the disparity. The disproportionate distribution of the wealth. I’m thinking here in terms of gardening. Those lucky bastards. Those haughty English, PNW, and Japanese gardeners who ply their passion where the soil is rich, the weather is benevolent, and every person who scratches a mountain laurel into the ground gets drunk on their overnight and over-sized success. And they say to themselves, “I’m bloody great. I can grow everything.” And they take a creative writing class on Tuesday nights at the community college and peck out some frilly, freakin’ best seller!  Books that we here in the nether regions see in the windows of the five and dime, which draw us inside just to get out of the cold for a minute. But we slobber all over the pictures and the manager comes and makes us buy it, accepting a chicken and a few eggs as partial payment. Figuring that since we now own it, we might as well read it, we do. And then get all “inspired.” Then on the one half of that one spring day that’s sort of nice, we go out, religiously follow all the advice, and then invariably, inevitably, unsurprisingly experience the kind of catastrophic disaster that can only come when you live here and are daft enough to follow gardening advice from those who live over there. In God’s green Eden. In freakin’ Eden!

Wait. Whoa. What happened? It seems I’ve gone back down that rabbit hole. I apologize.

But, you know, there’s another thing that isn’t fair. Here in the continental part of the country, hard-working, decent, good gardening folk who can write and who really need a break never get brought in from the bullpen. Good writers, people who have willed lush, magnificent oases out of hardpan in weather that kills the people whose central air breaks on all but three or four days a year, never get that call from Timber or any other publisher. Why? Because all of their editors are tied up ushering dozens and dozens of spoiled English and PNW writers through their “masterpieces.” So-called gardeners for whom a daphne could fall off a truck and roll into their ditch and still grow like a Callery pear.

Another daphne.

Dammit. Angry again. Wait. I’ve got an idea.

I’d like to buy the world a home, And furnish it with love, Grow apple trees and honey bees, And…

 Well, that got annoying really quick. Screw it. I’ve got issues. I’m off to the liquor store.

            Fear, Loathing, Capitulation, Relapses, A Cry for Help, and Another Empty Promise to Do Better; In a world of unfairness and charlatans, these are the real things! originally appeared on GardenRant on November 20, 2019.

from Gardening https://www.gardenrant.com/2019/11/fear-loathing-capitulation-relapses-a-cry-for-help-and-another-empty-promise-to-do-better-in-a-world-of-unfairness-and-charlatans-these-are-the-real-things.html via http://www.rssmix.com/

[turfandlawncare]

Fear, Loathing, Capitulation, Relapses, A Cry for Help, and Another Empty Promise to Do Better; In a world of unfairness and charlatans, these are the real things!

Déjà vu all over again. In what is apparently becoming an abusive relationship, I again find myself the victim of Marianne Willburn’s poison pen, which, I now believe she nightly wields in her dreams, inflicting dagger-sized wounds on a field of retreating lesser writers in Play Station-like battles. For again, right here on Garden Rant, my home turf, another rebuttal. Actually, a rebuttal to my rebuttal of her rebuttal to my happy, harmless, and humorous little column, “Time for A Grexit,” which appeared in the July/August 2019 Horticulture Magazine. Just a 500-word bit of sophomoric snark I dashed off last summer when I was still sweet and hopeful. It was cute. It was funny. And, despite itself, it did manage to make a surprisingly cohesive case for American gardeners taking all their English gardening books and dumping them into Boston Harbor. I was innocent back then, and my life was so much simpler. Appallingly, it turns out that having a stalker is nowhere near as much fun as you might imagine.

The end of life as I knew it.

The most recent blog site equivalent to being repeatedly chased down the street by your neighbor’s dog.

This most recent rebuttal wasn’t unexpected.  Red flags were up after her first rebuttal, and my family and I worried that Marianne could possibly be a serial-rebuttaler. I could see her in her classy, tastefully appointed, mountain retreat, seething from my jovial retort to her first rebuttal, and working. Working! I cowered, knowing she would soon, on a day of her own choosing, emerge with another 15,000 word tirade. All of it letter perfect and grammatically correct, and crafted to turn all my loved ones against me and laying waste to all I am, all I ever was, all I’ll ever be, and everything I’ve ever loved. Including all my dead pets. And all my dead Stewartia. And, I’ve got to admit, I’ve been a nervous wreck. Pretty much, this has been the worst period of my life, which includes the bout with cancer I mentioned in a previous missive and, in fact, bring up in almost all my conversations.

The rebuttal that came out of the blue.

This is my jovial retort to her first rebuttal. Jovial, yet at the same time devastating.

Here’s the deal. After my last rebuttal, I was out of ammo. I’d used up everything I had. No quotes left in the stockpile. No more references back in the magazine. No last cache of jabs, nudges, innuendo, and implications. Not even a dull, rusty bayonet on the end of my empty rifle/poison pen with which to inflict dagger-sized wounds. So I hunkered down in my ramshackle, mismatched, patched together, horticulturist-class, Midwestern hovel, tried not to notice the leaks in the ceiling and the paint peeling from the walls, and prayed for a miracle.

And, whatya know, I actually got one. Apparently Marianne was out of ammo too. So when the inevitable time came and I looked over and saw the grenade roll into my bunker and blow up, I was pleasantly surprised that it did so with only a soft doink. No blast. No shrapnel. No carnage. What happened was more akin to an uncomfortably loud airing of the “We Are the World” video interrupting your conversation in a bar. Or maybe it’s better described as something like hearing the “I’d Like to Buy the World a Coke” commercial playing on a scratchy transistor radio on a hot day by some kid in line ahead of you at the snack bar at the community pool who walks off with the last French Chew. Or maybe it was more like an overly-affectionate, dripping wet kiss from an older aunt with a weird accent right on the face of your much younger self. Whatever metaphor best describes my response to Marianne’s newest rebuttal–and you get to choose–the fact is that while indeed unpleasant and unwanted, I survived it.

But that doink? Came to find out it was pretty passive-aggressive. One that snuck back up on me after another day and a second look. “Garden Regionally, Get Inspired Globally” was Marianne’s banner, her battle cry and l’appel aux armes. Well, who the hell can argue with that?

Brian at work.

Marianne, you pulled a good one on me. Left me dangling and looking like a real jerk. Reminds me totally of a time when I introduced another friend/nemesis and co-worker named Brian to the audience at one of our symposiums at the Cincinnati Zoo & Botanical Garden. Our ongoing “feud” was pretty well-known to most of the audience, although not all of it, and I decided to deliver the most personally insulting introduction I could imagine, laying it on thick for an awkwardly long time, bringing up typically off-limits things like divorces, and, in my mind, generously setting him up for one of his patented hilarious ripostes. But he said nothing. Just went into his talk. With big sad eyes. Made me look like a complete asshole! A master stroke!

Yep, Marianne, you got me. You got to the reasonable position first and now here I am a rubber ball dangling from a string on your paddle. Well done.

As I’ve made plain, I am but a simple gardener from the heartland forever drawn by the magnetic pull of my next Big Gulp, teetering constantly on the cusp of diabetes, and free of an opioid addiction by reasons no one understands. As such, I too am not without need of nor appreciation for inspiration. So, for you Marianne, yes, if you get that from English writers who for some reason hope to cross how-to manuals with great literature, go for it. It’s kind of weird, but whatever. Just don’t be tricked into trying Meconopsis. It’ll break your heart.

I, on the other hand, I turn to the bottle for inspiration. And, believe it or not, I only discovered that about myself while pondering this. Ironically, it also occurred to me that my method might be even more cosmopolitan than Marianne’s! While plenty of good Kentucky bourbons are close at hand, I sometimes find my inspiration from a single malt Scotch. Or a spicy Caribbean rum. Or a sexy French vodka. Or a hot-tempered Greek Ouzo. Sometimes a warm Japanese sake is just the ticket, but there are times when a smooth Canadian whisky will do just fine. Or a Mexican tequila. Or wines from almost every continent. Even, and I’m gritting my teeth a little as I admit it, an English gin. Fact is, turns out pretty much the whole planet is lousy with spirits ready to light up the masses with inspiration. This whole revelation humbles me. It fills me with wonder. Heck, I’m but a tiny speck in this big Universe. All of us are. And maybe, deep down inside, somehow, we’re all pretty much the same.

I took that idea to bed with me last night. I laid there thinking about people. And Marianne. I pictured her in her home, sitting by the fire with a cat on her lap and a Christopher Lloyd book in hand, sighing at the better passages and finding inspiration. At least between those times when she’s not shrieking abuse towards Ohio and pounding out another manifesto of a rebuttal on her keyboard. Nope. I suppose that when she settles in and watches Monty Don on Netflix that she really isn’t that much different from me when I find my inspiration by stumbling around in the garden at night, a half empty fifth of Jameson in hand, condemning myself to damnation for all the neighbors to hear by way of whatever blaspheme I bellow when I discover brittle, dead branches where my daphne used to be.

A daphne.

Daphnes. My God, how many have I loved? How many I have lost. I feel my mood changing. You know, it just isn’t fair. I just can’t get over the disparity. The disproportionate distribution of the wealth. I’m thinking here in terms of gardening. Those lucky bastards. Those haughty English, PNW, and Japanese gardeners who ply their passion where the soil is rich, the weather is benevolent, and every person who scratches a mountain laurel into the ground gets drunk on their overnight and over-sized success. And they say to themselves, “I’m bloody great. I can grow everything.” And they take a creative writing class on Tuesday nights at the community college and peck out some frilly, freakin’ best seller!  Books that we here in the nether regions see in the windows of the five and dime, which draw us inside just to get out of the cold for a minute. But we slobber all over the pictures and the manager comes and makes us buy it, accepting a chicken and a few eggs as partial payment. Figuring that since we now own it, we might as well read it, we do. And then get all “inspired.” Then on the one half of that one spring day that’s sort of nice, we go out, religiously follow all the advice, and then invariably, inevitably, unsurprisingly experience the kind of catastrophic disaster that can only come when you live here and are daft enough to follow gardening advice from those who live over there. In God’s green Eden. In freakin’ Eden!

Wait. Whoa. What happened? It seems I’ve gone back down that rabbit hole. I apologize.

But, you know, there’s another thing that isn’t fair. Here in the continental part of the country, hard-working, decent, good gardening folk who can write and who really need a break never get brought in from the bullpen. Good writers, people who have willed lush, magnificent oases out of hardpan in weather that kills the people whose central air breaks on all but three or four days a year, never get that call from Timber or any other publisher. Why? Because all of their editors are tied up ushering dozens and dozens of spoiled English and PNW writers through their “masterpieces.” So-called gardeners for whom a daphne could fall off a truck and roll into their ditch and still grow like a Callery pear.

Another daphne.

Dammit. Angry again. Wait. I’ve got an idea.

I’d like to buy the world a home, And furnish it with love, Grow apple trees and honey bees, And…

 Well, that got annoying really quick. Screw it. I’ve got issues. I’m off to the liquor store.

            Fear, Loathing, Capitulation, Relapses, A Cry for Help, and Another Empty Promise to Do Better; In a world of unfairness and charlatans, these are the real things! originally appeared on GardenRant on November 20, 2019.

from GardenRant https://ift.tt/37s0CpZ

[gyrlversion]

I had a brain tumour the size of a golf ball: Nikki Chapman

TV Presenter Nicki Chapman, 52, is not hosting the BBC’s coverage of The RHS Chelsea Flower Show this year because she is recovering from brain tumour surgery 

TV presenter Nicki Chapman is as much a fixture of the Chelsea Flower Show — that annual extravaganza of horticultural brilliance — as its glorious perennial blooms.

Piloting viewers through the show gardens, interviewing medal winners, chatting to guests; her sunny commentary has brought a dash of down-to-earth charm to the programme for the past 13 years.

But next week, when the show opens, for the first time since 2006, she will not be hosting it. She has kept the reason secret until now, but today I can reveal that she will be absent from the BBC’s presenting team because she is recovering from major surgery to remove a brain tumour.

Just a week-and-a-half after her operation, I visit her at her home in West London.

I expect to find her wan, listless and reclining on a sofa with her head shaved. Actually, she’s standing in her sun-filled garden laughing. She looks as though she’s just returned from a restful holiday — fit and glamorous, her blonde hair sleek — not recuperating from a four-and-a-half hour op to remove a tumour the size of a golf ball from her brain.

‘Yes!’ she agrees brightly, ‘I thought I’d have to wear a comedy bandage round my head and look like a Smurf for two weeks, but they took it off after two days.

‘And I’m flabbergasted at how well I feel and how quickly I’ve recovered. I feel fantastic.

‘Two days after the surgery I was hallucinating slightly. People had funny Disney cartoon noses and there were things like fireworks at the corner of their eyes. It was just my sight re-adjusting. (It had been affected by the tumour.)

Nicki noticed a change in her vision and suffered worrying memory lapses before her diagnosis. She underwent the operation at Charing Cross Hospital in London at the beginning of May

‘Now I’m not even taking pain-killers. I walk a mile every day by the river and hope soon to do some gentle exercise at the gym.

‘The NHS care I’ve had at the Charing Cross Hospital in London has been first class. Amazing. And I’ve found an inner strength. My mum said: “I’m a tough old bird and you’re like me, Nicki.”’ She laughs.

‘But although I feel fine, my lovely surgeon has told me I shouldn’t go back to work for six weeks. You have to give yourself the best possible chance to heal, so I won’t be presenting the Chelsea Flower Show this year.

‘You start at 5am and it’s five 12-hour days, and I don’t think I could manage that yet. I’m devastated. I watched the preview and it made me cry. I’ve done it since 2006 and, of all the shows I present, it’s the one I really regret not being able to do. But I have to follow my doctor’s advice. You don’t get a second chance to recover.’

Everyone warms to Nicki — ‘that nice lady off the telly’, as she’s been known ever since she was a judge on Pop Idol in 2001 and refused to find fault with even the direst amateur contestants on the TV show.

This year will be the first since 2006 that Nicki Chapman is not presenting at the RHS Chelsea Flower Show (she is pictured at the 2015 show with Prince Charles)

And she is lovely: she’s there in the airy kitchen/living room of her glorious Victorian house cutting cakes into bite-sized chunks when I arrive, setting platters of fruit on the counter, cajoling me to eat.

The room is festooned with ‘get well’ flowers and cards, although only a close coterie of trusted friends and family know about her brain tumour. This is the first time she has talked publicly about it. Even her Chelsea Flower Show co-hosts are unaware of why she’ll be absent this year.

‘Joe Swift (the gardener and one of her co-presenters) said: “You’re not on the call sheet this year. Why aren’t you doing the show?” And I just said: “I’ve had an operation.”’

‘The NHS care I’ve had at the Charing Cross Hospital in London has been first class. Amazing. And I’ve found an inner strength,’ Nicki told Frances Hardy

She’s been similarly evasive with others. Announcing an operation to excise a brain tumour is jaw-dropping news. It is difficult both to impart and respond to.

‘But I’m talking about it now because, although I was petrified, I tried to stay positive. It was the worst news I’ve ever had in my life, but I thought: “We’re going to find a way through it.” And I really hope that other people who get a similar diagnosis have the excellent treatment I had, and find the same inner strength.

‘Someone told me: “If you go into an operation crying, you’ll wake up crying.” So my husband, Shacky (record company executive Dave ‘Shack’ Shackleton, 51, who also co-manages the rock band Iron Maiden) and I had a rule: you can only cry for 30 seconds.”

‘And I found a cutting in a magazine about the jockey Frankie Dettori. Before every race he’d say “I remain happy. I banish negative thoughts”, and I put it by on my bedside table in the hospital ward the night before my operation.

‘I just knew I was going to be fine.’

However, the onset of the symptoms of her tumour had been sudden and unnerving. The first sign that all was not well came at the end of March this year. Nicki noticed a change in her vision.

‘I couldn’t seem to move my eyes across a line of words to read them on my computer. And I struggled to type a response to emails. Shacky said I was probably just tired. Then I went for coffee with a girlfriend and asked her: “Do I look funny to you? I’m only looking at you with one eye.” But she said I looked fine.’

Nicki Chapman is pictured with her neuro-surgeon David Peterson two days after her operation to remove a golf ball sized brain tumour 

Nicki, 52, also suffered worrying memory lapses. ‘I went to do a voice-over for Escape To The Country (one of the BBC shows she co-presents) and I couldn’t remember the name of John, the executive producer. I’ve known him for 15 years. I had to look it up on my phone.

‘Then I realised my speech was subtly affected. I was talking about a holiday we’d just had in Dubai. I could see the word Dubai in my mind, but I struggled to say it. I told myself it must be the menopause.

‘I told John about it and he asked if I suffer from migraines — I don’t — because he does and has similar problems. I did the voice-over, went home, did some housework then put on the computer and the words on it were blurred. Really, it all happened in the space of a couple of days.’

The next day Nicki rang her GP. Describing her symptoms — the memory lapses, speech problems and impaired vision — the doctor said she thought Nicki had suffered a stroke and urged her to go directly to A&E at her nearest hospital, Charing Cross in Hammersmith.

Nicki leaving Charing Cross Hospital in central London four days after the operation earlier this month 

‘She asked if my husband was with me and said we should go straightaway, so we raced down. Other than a thumping stress headache, I felt absolutely fine.

‘When we got there they saw me within ten minutes. They asked me why I hadn’t come in the day before, and I explained that I thought my problems were menopause-related.

‘They swung into action, took bloods and scans and I started to think: “This is serious.” Then they called another doctor, a neurosurgeon, and he said: “You haven’t had a stroke. It’s a brain tumour and you’ve had it for years.”

‘I was in a cubicle with Shacky and my first reaction was complete shock. When you hear bad news, it’s like a gush of wind coming towards you. I remember thinking: “Just concentrate on what they’re telling you.”

Nicki Chapman at home in London, less than two weeks after her brain operation

‘Shacky went pale. A big, fat tear was running down my face. I said: “I’m really sorry I’m upset. Just tell me what I need to know,” and the doctor was fantastic. He said I’d need more tests, an MRI scan and surgery.

‘I didn’t think I was going to die. It was just: “Who would have thought it?” It would never have occurred to me.’ By the time Nicki got back home late that afternoon, she knew she had a tumour on the back, left-hand side of her head. She and her husband called it Burt and resolved not to succumb to misery.

But she took the precaution of making sure her will was in order: ‘I owed it to Shacky and my family in the worst-case scenario,’ she says. ‘And it was then, too, that we made the 30-second rule. You couldn’t cry for longer than that, otherwise you’d never stop.’

Nicki, who has no children, called her parents, Carol, 77, and Barry, 78 — divorced and both happily remarried — ‘and I could hear Dad catch his breath when I told him. Mum processed the news in a very logical way. No histrionics, no tears. I knew they’d be supportive and I was amazed at how calm they were.

‘And my sister Shelley’s best friend had come through a similar operation. She was very positive and informed.’

Events then moved quickly. Nine days on, she was seeing neurosurgeon David Peterson. ‘He told me the MRI scan had revealed a tumour the size of a golf ball pressing on my brain, and he said: “We need to operate quite soon. But we won’t be cutting off your hair!”

‘At that point, I told him I loved him.’ She beams. Actually, she says, this was the least of her concerns.

After being told she could suffer a bleed on the brain during the surgery, Nicki said: ‘If anything goes wrong, I don’t want to be resuscitated and come back in a body I can’t use’

‘He said within six to eight weeks I should be carrying on with my life, but there were areas of concern: I might lose the sight in one eye and there could be issues with speech and mobility.

‘I’d already been told I couldn’t drive, because of the risk of seizures, but frightening as these things are, I knew I’d be fine.’

And the best news of all was that it seemed — although they wouldn’t know conclusively until a biopsy was carried out — that the tumour, a meningioma that grows on the membranes that surround the brain, was benign.

‘When Mr Peterson told me this, I felt I’d been given my life back,’ says Nicki. ‘Whatever the final outcome was, I could deal with it and eventually move on.

‘When you know what you’re dealing with, you can face it. It’s the unknown that’s truly terrifying.’

A couple of days later, at the beginning of May, she was called in to Charing Cross Hospital — which, by sheer good fortune, is a centre of excellence for the treatment of brain tumours — for her operation.

Charing Cross Hospital in Hammersmith, London (pictured) is, by sheer good fortune, a centre of excellence for the treatment of brain tumours

She chose not to go privately: ‘I truly believe in the NHS and felt strongly that this option would give me the very best possible treatment and care. Mr Peterson said: “That’s the right decision,” and, through the whole process, everyone was just brilliant.

‘Some of the hospital staff said: “Oh! We know you from the telly!” But everyone was discreet. Not a word leaked out.’

Settled into a six-bed ward — armed with a new dressing gown and a turban bought by friends — on the evening before surgery, she recalls: ‘I had my rosary from my school days with me, a St Christopher my father had given me, and a card from my mum with the meaning of my name — strong and brave. Shacky sat with me and we talked about everything and nothing.

‘They’d said I could suffer a bleed on the brain during the surgery and I’d told him: “If anything goes wrong, I don’t want to be resuscitated and come back in a body I can’t use.”’

Nicki Chapman at the Chelsea Flower Show, in London on May 2016

Her brown eyes brim with tears when she says this: it is the only time her cheerful composure deserts her. We’re sitting on a sofa by doors that open onto her terrace garden — inspired by designs from the Chelsea Flower Show — where palm trees riffle in the breeze. There’s an occasional thwack of tennis balls from the courts behind. Birdsong fills the air. It is a golden afternoon.

She recalls the relief of coming round from surgery and finding the worst had not happened — she could see from both eyes and speak. Her first thought was to contact Shacky, to whom she’s been married for 20 years, and a ‘very kind’ member of staff in the resuscitation room called him.

‘Then Mr Peterson came through and I said: “Is that my handsome consultant?’ and he smiled and said: “We’re all right, Nicki. We’ve got most of it out.” Part of the tumour — which was benign — had grown next to one of the main cerebral veins and they’d left a little bit there because there would have been a risk from removing it.

‘And I know it might come back, but if it does they’ll deal with it before it gets too big. We’ll address that if we need to. I’m quite happy.’

There is no evidence of the surgery save for a neat four-inch scar and eight tiny disc-shaped shaved patches on her head where incisions were made.

By the end of June, she hopes to be filming Escape To The Country again, piloting would-be home buyers round their dream properties in bucolic corners of Britain. Then — as long as she’s allowed to fly — she’ll be off to Oz for a series of Wanted Down Under. She also starts filming a new gardening show, Great Garden Challenge, in July.

‘Oh, and I’m off to Glastonbury for the first time — I’ve always wanted to go!’ she says, smiling.

‘I don’t know about the future,’ she adds, ‘but I’m as optimistic as I possibly can be. I feel I’ve dodged a bullet. I’m really lucky: a week-and-a-half after brain surgery, and just look at me.’

The post I had a brain tumour the size of a golf ball: Nikki Chapman appeared first on Gyrlversion.

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