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#Miel Petite
kittiehill · 1 year
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Bored and was making pompom wreaths and then got an idea...how cute would a Good Omens one be! This is my @mielpetite art peeping out of my good and evil wreath
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copperplatebeech · 1 year
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The ficlet that the comments made me write. Miel Petite’s Feral Fridays regularly feature Crowley inflicting demonic mischief on Aziraphale, only to be unceremoniously yeeted out of the bookshop (even if Aziraphale has to pull him through the phone line first). This installment (go on, look, you know you want to) provoked a comment that provoked a command to write a fic, and I live to serve.
Read and comment on AO3 if you prefer
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“I’m simply saying you could refrain from commentary. I hear enough about my fondness for gross matter from Gabriel, thank you.”
“Didn’t mean anything by it. Just, you know, amazing how fast those caramels disappeared.  Destroying might of Heaven and all.”
“You might try to be a little sensitive.”
“You might go easier on the ballistic expulsion. Reckon I’ve had enough of that.”
“You do keep coming back for more.”
“Glutton for punishment, me. If nothin’ else.”
“The prank phone calls. Pelting me with elasticated bands. Honestly, how juvenile.”
“Just trying to lighten you up.”
“You licked me."
“Well, somethin’ tastes good, you lick it, don’t you?”
“If something tastes good, I enjoy it like a civilised ethereal being.”
“Seen you with an ice lolly.”
“You seem preoccupied with what I eat. Or perhaps with simply goading me.”
“You like it.”
“I do not, as it happens.”
“You dooooo.”
“I have a theory that it’s all performative, Crowley. That you’re trying to disguise the fact that, deep down, you really are a nice person – aaaack!”
“Take that back. Don’t say nice. Nice is a four letter word.”
“You – ah – that was awfully abrupt, Crowley – these are some rather rare first editions you’ve got me pinned against –”
“Little different when the shoe’s on the other foot, ennit?”
“It’s, uh –”
“What is it, angel?”
“It’s – er – nice.”
“Um. Ngk. Is, kinda.”
“You could – perhaps a very little lick. Though, I remind you, that is a word with four letters.”
“Mmm. Good, angel.”
“Isn’t that yet another four-letter word?”
“Lots’ve four letter words I can think of. Let’s try all of ’em.”
“Ah – oh, that’s – am I to conclude, Crowley, that all these puerile provocations were about seeking my attention?”
“Gonna tell me all that smiting was ‘cos you liked me?”
“Yeeting. The panel specifically said yeeting.”
“What panel – wait a blessed minute, who’re you with the sketch pad? Busy here, ‘case y’haven’t noticed.”
“Yeet is also a four-letter word. Allow me to do the honours.”
“Bloody hell, angel, she went a good fifteen feet.”
“I made certain no harm was done. If you would be so kind as to miracle this door stoutly locked?”
“At your service.”
“Mm. I rather like the sound of that. Now, where were we?”
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deathwords334 · 9 days
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Curse you porch pirates!!!
*shakes fist at the empty driveway* I found out recently that a porch pirate not only stole my package of watercolor paints, but also the two Good Omens books Miel made. Miel's been really nice and a trooper about all this, I just hate that they have to deal with a situation like this. Realistically I bet the pirate's gonna either throw the books away or try and sell them online... But there is a part of me that wants to think they'll look at the cover and be all 'Hey I think I heard of this show. Maybe I should check it out.' And then they do and they get hooked and then they enter the stages of grief post season 2.
And then I'll have my revenge! Hahaha take that pirate! Feel the brain rot consume you!!
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yifeiyay · 6 months
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having both laurens and kévin racing here but in different cars is so confusing. luckily they're in different classes i guess or it would be even more confusing
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boflint · 2 years
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Achetez une grande variété de bouteilles de jus de fruits de différentes tailles et formes chez Boflint, une entreprise française.
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mielpetite · 5 months
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Presales for print copies of TWTWP and WBB are open! 🎉 WBB is being redrawn and loaded with new content so it’s even more of what you love ❤️
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coolvieilledentelle · 29 days
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Une entrée originale et gourmande, c’est possible
Courge butternut au miel et au vinaigre balsamique
La courge butternut est très appréciée pour sa chair fondante et sa texture veloutée une fois cuisinée. Elle est parfaite pour une entrée peu calorique et riche en vitamines.
Les ingrédients pour 12 portions :
1 courge butternut d’environ 1,7kg vidée et coupée en cubes de 2 cm de coté
Huile d’olive
½ tasse de pignons de pin
200 g de jeunes pousses d’épinards
Pour l’assaisonnement :
¼ de tasse de miel liquide
2 cuillères à soupe de vinaigre balsamique
1 cuillère à soupe d’huile d’olive
Préparation
Préchauffez le four à 250°C.
Tapissez 2 plaques à pâtisserie avec du papier cuisson.
Placez la courge butternut sur une couche en la répartissant entre les deux plateaux.
Versez l’huile d’olive afin que les cubes de courge butternut soient uniformément recouverts.
Assaisonnez avec du sel et du poivre et enfournez le tout pendant 20 minutes en retournant la courge à mi-cuisson.
Sortez du four et laissez refroidir.
Dans une petite poêle antiadhésive, faites chauffer les pignons de pin pendant 3 minutes, jusqu’à ce qu’ils soient dorés.
Préparez la vinaigrette en mélangeant le miel et le vinaigre balsamique et l’huile dans un shaker et secouez vigoureusement pour obtenir un mélange homogène. Ensuite, retirez le couvercle du shaker et mettez le mélange au four à micro-ondes à intensité élevée pendant 10 secondes. Remettez le couvercle et agitez pour obtenir un mélange homogène.
Placez les jeunes pousses d’épinards et la courge butternut dans un grand bol et saupoudrez le tout avec les pignons de pin. Arrosez de vinaigrette et assaisonnez avec du sel et du poivre puis servez.
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NOTE DE LECTURE : Fenêtre sur terre. Franck Bouysse. 2023
L'auteur que je ne connaissais pas m'accueille dans son intimité avec beaucoup de pudeur et d'authenticité. Par ce petit recueil de poèmes, parfois en prose, et de photos en noir et blanc, Franck Bouysse nous invite au recueillement devant la nature et la poésie. Il s'agit pour lui de dire, avec obstination (très beau poème), la quête de cette poésie qui fait son quotidien, en toute simplicité, celle du temps qui passe et de ceux qui peuplent son environnement, insectes ou bien apiculteurs ; lui en fait son miel, et c'est un délice.
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clarityofclouds · 5 months
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met miel petite today in full Crowley garb! First tumblr mutual ive met irl and it was a complete coincidence. Check out their FABULOUS art and support them on patreon (linked in their bio).
@mielpetite
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empiredesimparte · 8 months
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Napoléon V: Funny, they've even installed a throne room for me here! Charlotte (teasing): You'll have to leave your duties for two weeks, Your Majesty
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Charlotte: It's just you and me Napoléon V: I'll try to remember that : "We're alone, just the two of us, without the butler and …"
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Charlotte: Louis… Napoléon V: Sorry, I'll shut up Charlotte: Come here
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Charlotte: I have a surprise for you Napoléon V: Tell me Charlotte: Let's settle down first, I'm dead tired
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Napoléon V: Do you need anything else? Charlotte: No, it's perfect, I've got everything I need
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Napoléon V: So, what's this all about? Charlotte: Louis… It's a bit abrupt but… I'm expecting our child
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Napoléon V: That's wonderful, darling Charlotte (relieved): I'm so happy Napoléon V: Me too. Are you sure you're not apprehensive? What did the doctor say? Who did you tell? Charlotte: Louis, I've been discreet, don't worry Napoléon V: I'm simply curious, sorry
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Napoléon V (mischievous): Let's hope no one tries to understand the chronology of events Charlotte: I think many will understand, but it'll be too late to argue, darling Napoléon V: You're right. It's not important
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⚜ Le Cabinet Noir | Honeymoon at Bora-Bora, 1 Messidor An 230
Beginning ▬ Previous ▬ Next
The young couple arrived in the evening at their honeymoon destination, Bora-Bora in French Polynesia. The Emperor had reserved a small island and his villa to impress his young wife. After a meal with a chef, Napoléon V and Charlotte rested alone for the first time since Compiègne. Charlotte took advantage of the calm to tell her husband that she was pregnant.
⚜ Traduction française
Le jeune couple est arrivé au soir à sa destination de lune de miel, Bora-Bora en Polynésie française. L'Empereur a réservé une petite île et sa villa pour impressionner sa jeune épouse. Après un repas auprès d'un chef restaurateur, Napoléon V et Charlotte se reposent pour la première fois seuls depuis Compiègne. Charlotte profite de ce calme pour annoncer à Napoléon V qu'elle est enceinte.
Napoléon V : C'est drôle, ils m'ont même installé une salle du trône! Charlotte (taquine) : Il va falloir délaisser vos fonctions pendant deux semaines, Votre Majesté.
Charlotte : Nous ne sommes qu'entre nous Napoléon V : Je vais tâcher de m'en souvenir. Nous sommes seuls, tout les deux, sans le majordome et nos domestiques, ni...
Charlotte : Louis... Napoléon V : Désolé, je me tais Charlotte : Viens là
Charlotte : J'ai une surprise pour toi Napoléon V : Dis moi tout Charlotte : Installons nous d'abord, je suis morte de fatigue
Napoléon V : Te faut-il autre chose? Charlotte : Non c'est parfait, j'ai tout ce qu'il me faut
Napoléon V : Alors, de quoi s'agit-il ? Charlotte : Louis... C'est un peu abrupt mais... J'attends notre enfant
Napoléon V : C'est merveilleux, chérie Charlotte : Je suis si heureuse Napoléon V : Moi aussi Napoléon V : Tu es sûre que tu n'appréhendes pas ? Qu'a dit le docteur ? A qui en as-tu parlé ? Charlotte : Louis, dois-je subir un interrogatoire ? J'ai été discrète, ne t'en fais pas Napoléon V : Je suis simplement trop curieux, désolé
Napoléon V : J'espère que personne ne se doutera de rien Charlotte : A mon avis nombreux comprendront, mais trop tard pour être un débat, chéri Napoléon V : Tu as raison. Ce n'est pas important
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chicinsilk · 5 months
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US Vogue October 15, 1954
Cherry Nelms wears a honey-colored Crompton corduroy coat with alpaca lining, over a matching sleeveless dress. Gloves, and little sweaters, really knitted in cashmere and wool, by Wear-Right. Pink velvet hat, Lilly Daché. Lipstick, just the right amount of honey: “Bendel Berry”.
Cherry Nelms porte un manteau en velours côtelé Crompton couleur miel avec doublure en alpaga, sur robe sans manches assortie. Gants, et petits pulls, vraiment tricotés en cachemire et laine, par Wear-Right. Chapeau en velours rose, Lilly Daché. Rouge à lèvres, juste ce qu'il faut pour le miel : "Bendel Berry".
Photo Erwin Blumenfeld vogue archive
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hellhound5925 · 5 months
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One shot - Sargent Hunter
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Warnings:
I don’t really have any this time, Just a fun romantic evening. 18+ just incase.
Masquerade (Part Two)
Summary:
Lol I’m not putting one here but I’ll link part one incase you are new here! There will be a smutty Part Three because I know some of ya’ll are suckers for it (so am I).
Oh wait I do have something 😂 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis and @cloneloverrrrr your female characters got a lil cameo (I hope you like it).
Reminder: Dance Macabre by Ghost inspired this ☺️
Standing out on the balcony was refreshing for sure. The busy evening life on Coruscant going about their business, humbles me and reminds me that I am one of so many people that live here. The speeders in the sky lanes offer their own chorus of sounds, while the buildings seem to glow by the way their lighting reflects of the foggy city air. The sky was still somewhat bright from the day light but beginning to dim. Coruscant isn't perfect but it has its charm.
"Rough night?" An unfamiliar female voice comes from over my shoulder. Her accent is not one I recognize.
"Something like that" I chuckle before turning to face the source of the voice. A petit woman with long brown hair offers a warm smile. Something about her causes me to open up. "I think I'm being stood up" I confess, tugging at my lacy glove.
"Girl in that dress I'm pretty sure you could have anyone in that room! You're absolutely stunning"
Her words cause me to blush, "You're so very kind." A clone in an aqua blue tux approaches, his silvery hair spiked slightly, making him stand out from the others. He offers me a smile before whispering something to the woman, who then turns back to me.
"It was nice meeting you..."
"Circe"
"I'm Anfisa. Give him a chance, it's still early."
Offer a smile I nod in response. She takes the hand of the clone, he sweeps her off her feet back towards the doors. I can't help the hint of jealousy that creeps into my veins watching her facial expression - one of absolute admiration - when she looked at the Captain. Maybe Hunter really isn't going to show? Rex is still an option...but it wouldn't be fair to him... Being so deep in thought I had not heard the doors opening behind me.
"Circe?"
Spinning around, I'm ready to defend myself - natural reflex of being Mandalorian I guess. The minute I lock eyes with the man that was behind me, my entire body relaxes. At first I'm speechless, I mean just as I was starting to come to terms with the fact that he wasn't going to show? My eyes flick between him and the other members of the Clone Force 99 who are in the door way. Each of them dressed in full suits.
"Look I'm sorry if you thought I wasn't coming. Our mission ran a little longer than expected. I would've tried to contact you but I don't exactly have your code." As he continues he has my undivided attention, it's as if time itself stood still and we were the only two who are aware.
I don't say I word, partially because now I feel horrible for being irritated but partially because...well I'm still taking in the sight of him in a suit. The suit is red and black with gold accents to match me perfectly. It fits him so well, I can't help but wonder if it was a one of a kind, made only for him and exactly for him. His broad shoulders seem even more muscular and his thighs...Don't even get me started on the man's thighs.
Hunter seems to be feeling the same way as his eyes roam over my exposed shoulders and down the length of my dress. The way he studies me is as if he is trying to commit every little detail to memory. He makes his way back to my face, expression is gentle and in awe. Maker I've got it so bad for him, he makes me weak in the knees. If the universe hadn't come to a screeching halt already, it just did.
In a few short steps, he closes the gap between us. Reaching up he gently pulls the mask up off my face. I'm far too lost in the warmth of his brown eyes to protest. He places his free hand on my face and runs the pad of his thumb over my cheek, "I needed to see your face."
"I feel bad for being mad" I let out nervous laugh.
"Don't. You didn't know" his reassures me. When he removes his hand, I immediately crave the warmth of his touch.
Looking down at my mask in his hands he chuckles. The sound is music to my ears, the kind you listen to on repeat all day. It's warmth makes it way to my core, I hold onto the feeling never wanting to let it go. Hunter admires the mask turning it over in his hands as if its a worthy piece. A few strands of his wavy brown locks fall towards his face and only now I realized this is the first time I've seen him without a bandana. His hair looks so thick and soft, it's hard not to imagine what it would be like with my fingers tangled throughout.
He carefully reaches up and ties the black silk band back around my head, securing the mask on my face. His movements are so gentle yet tactical, the combination quite impressive.
"I like it" he admires his work.
I can't help but chuckle, "I thought you might." The only reason I bought this was because of his tattoo.
He offers me his hand, which I take without hesitation. The way our hands fit together is almost as if we were made for one another. Leading me towards the rest of the group who all offer warm smiles, except for Crosshair who just nods. We pass by them and enter the ballroom. The feeling of eyes on us is almost enough to make my skin crawl and I'm not usually the type to get social anxiety.
As if sensing the change, Hunter looks over his shoulder at me and offers a reassuring smile. He leads me through the crowd of dancing couples and pulls me in to him tight. One arm wrapped tightly around me, hand spread across my exposed back while the other still holds my hand. The two of us find our place amongst one another like two puzzle pieces coming together for the first time. My body immediately relaxes, leaning into his as an elegant symphony takes us over.
"I'm sorry...I'm not usually this nervous" I admit, feeling like he wont judge me. He leans in and goosebumps erupt all over my body.
"Let them stare, you're the most beautiful woman here. They're probably jealous" he whispers in my ear.
In that moment, I'm grateful he was holding onto me so tightly because my knees felt as though they might buckle. Ecstasy runs through my veins while we continue to dance. I'm dizzy, but not because of the way Hunter gracefully spins me. The dizziness is caused by the man himself, his entire essence. His gaze piercing into mine, strong arms protecting me from the world, the warmth that radiates from his body. This man knows what he's doing to me and its almost unfair. His protective yet gently nature unwavering, all contributing to the fact that the crush I have for this man...is deepening into the love struck fool.
He lets out another one of those chuckles that heats my core. Instinctively I lean my head into his, drinking in his scent which is gentle and woodsy. I never imagined he would use scented products because they might overwhelm him. A sudden sharp inhale tells me he's doing the same but I worry its too much.
"I'm sorry if its too much" my voice barely above a whisper, I can't find it in me to speak any louder but I know he can hear me.
"No, its not. But its probably my new favorite" he mumbles.
Turning my face towards his, we are so close his nose brushes over my cheek not covered by the mask. Both of us are breathing as if the tension in the air has suddenly made it quite heavy. Even though the music stopped momentarily and likely couples broke apart...we didn't. The two of us stood there, enchanted in the presence of one another.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the moon light coming through the double doors we walked through what felt like minutes ago. Hunter doesn't move but his eyes follow mine. An overwhelming sadness followed by a dull ache in my stomach reminds me that this night is coming to an end soon as much I might will it not to.
He turns to me, but I stare into the rays of moonlight for a moment longer. Slowly I pull my gaze away, turning my attention to Hunter, whose eyes roam my masked face. "What?" I ask rather defensively.
"Should we get out of here?" He asks as if reading my mind.
My stomach does a few flips as a smile makes it way onto my face. Without any hesitation he pulls away from me without letting go of my hand. He leads me through the crowd of people who are going about their own business. Stopping suddenly he turns to me, "Wait here. I'll be right back."
I watch as Hunter disappears into the crowd but I do as I'm told. The whole evening was so surreal, I replay the events over and over in my head.
"You guys make such a lovely couple" a woman with raven hair says from off to my left. She feels familiar to me like maybe I’ve seen her around the Senate before? Maker knows. Her date, the one and only Commander Wolffe offers me a glare which seems cold if you don't know the man. However, he's actually quite nice once you get to know him.
"Thank you" I smile back at her before nodding politely at the Commander.
Before I can even think, Hunter re-emerges from the crowed, grabs my hand, and rushes me out of the building.
Part Three here
Tag list: (Huge thanks to you for the help! My Romance Queen) @lune-de-miel-au-paradis
@idoubleswearimawriter @savebytheodore @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @jediknightjana @techs-goggles9902 @clonethirstingisreal
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auboutdespages · 1 month
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AU BOUT DES PAGES
Hey les papivores 2.0, aujourd’hui nous allons plonger dans un univers mélancolique. Katherine PANCOL célèbre romancière française, est une écrivaine dont le style se caractérise à l’américaine marqué par de nombreux dialogues et ses récits qui décrivent souvent des destins chaotiques de femmes indépendantes.
ROMAN
« Les écureuils de Central Park sont tristes le lundi », Katherine PANCOL.
Le PITCH, d’abord !
Souvent la vie s’amuse.
Elle nous offre un diamant, caché sous un ticket de métro ou le tombé d’un rideau. Embusqué dans un mot, un regard, un sourire un peu nigaud.
Il faut faire attention aux détails. Ils sèment notre vie de petits cailloux et nous guident.
Les gens brutaux, les gens pressés, ceux qui portent des gants de boxe ou font gicler le gravier, ignorent les détails.
Ils veulent du lourd, de l’imposant, du clinquant, ils ne veulent pas perdre une minute à se baisser pour un sou, une paille, la main d’un homme tremblant.
Mais si on se penche, si on arrête le temps, on découvre des diamants dans une main tendue…
Et la vie n’est plus jamais triste. Ni le samedi, ni le dimanche, ni le lundi…
Mon AVIS, humblement !
Belles tranches de vies que nous livre ici, en grand chef, Katherine Pancol, tartinées tantôt de miel, tantôt de pâte à tartiner bon marché, mais toujours accompagnées de son fameux tea time dont elle seule à le secret.
On lui pardonnera sans problème cette éternelle histoire d'amour manquée entre Philippe et Joséphine (mais où va-t-elle chercher les prénoms de ses héroïnes ??), mais on l'attend au détour des traits de cet étonnant Junior, surdoué improbable qui casse quelque peu la véracité des propos.
Bien moins malin celui qui trouvera dans ces pages le fil rouge qui a fait le succès de l'opus précédent (La Valse lente des tortues)... on le cherche mais on ne le trouve point, perdu qu'il est peut-être entre les tourments de cette croqueuse d'Hortence (décidément, les prénoms sont un mystère pour Madame Pancol... ) et les pérégrinations de cette bonne vieille Henriette.
Toujours est-il qu'une unité de ton se propage dans les méandres de cette saga familiale à l'américaine, digne des meilleurs Dallas, un questionnement uniforme sur le rapport étroit entre hommes, à l'image du Petit Jeune Homme, vers de terre amoureux d'une étoile filante, de Gary poursuivant un père fantoche ou de Junior devenant un homme au contact du paternel.
Pancol nous en met plein la vue cette fois, en nous faisant entrer dans de nombreux mondes qui nous sont contemporains : celui des affaires internationales, évocant cette "crise financière" si proche de nous ; celui du "gratin" parisien, celui de l'écriture et de sa longue introspection ; une belle galerie de personnages, connus ou nouveaux, nous est alors donnée en pâture, donnant au livre un beau relief qui explique ses presque 1000 pages. Le lecteur en a pour son argent, il est content, content également de refermer ce troisième opus, dernier d'une longue saga qui menace de tourner en rond s'il propose un quatrième volet.
Bref, un écrin brillant et divertissant comme on les aime aujourd'hui, même s'il souffre de quelques incongruités.
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Les Messagers de la Bonté
Ruche occupée sans repos à la fabrication du miel, nous sommes engagés dans l'urgence de changer en bienveillance tout ce que nous traversons.
Ta main est celle qui a traîné une pierre pour finir un aqueduc, la main qui soigné une blessure sur un champ de bataille, la main qui a sauvé quelqu'un enfermé dans un temple qui était en feu, la main qui a tenu la tête gémissante d'un moribond.
Et c'est notre façon d'être gentil : aider les choses à grandir. L'arrosage des graines peut changer le monde, mais la chance d'arroser peut changer notre vie, puisque le noyau de la gratitude est de donner et de recevoir. Ce sont les vraies relations qui nous maintiennent en bonne santé.
Je vous encourage donc à créer votre propre pratique d'arrosage des graines. Je vous encourage à arroser la fleur dont vous rêver et que vous réveiller dans votre main. Je vous encourage à être là pour les autres afin que vous puissiez découvrir ensemble ce que signifie donner et recevoir.
Je vous encourage à raconter des histoires sur le don et la réception, en particulier aux jeunes, afin qu'ils puissent témoigner de leur gentillesse, tout en réparant le monde à leur tour.
Le seul code moral qui dure est celui de l'entraide. De la Bonté. Sous tous nos rêves et destinations, nous nous précipitons simplement les uns vers les autres lorsque nous tombons, de la même manière que les globules blancs se précipitent sur une blessure. C'est élémentaire.
La santé du monde et de nos coeurs dépend de ce simple réflexe d'arrêter ce que nous faisons et d'aider.
Mark Nepo
Quelle grandeur d'âme se devine dans ce texte, c'est divin !
J'offre toutes mes prières pour que la Bonté soit toujours en haute bienveillance et que les "Grands"si petits par leur esprit, puissent s'approprier ce texte pour un monde nouveau, meilleur, à faire ensemble !
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Tu prends et poses ma main
entre mes cuisses
et murmures
fais danser pour moi ces jolis petits doigts
- numéro en solo
rupi kaur - lait et miel
Dessin : éclorencore
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🍯 Chaque cuillerée de miel, un petit miracle de la nature! 🐝✨
Saviez-vous qu'une simple cuillerée de miel que nous savourons en un instant est le fruit d'un travail colossal? Voici quelques faits étonnants :
- Pour produire cette petite quantité, les abeilles butinent entre 300 000 fleurs. 🌸
- Cela représente 500 à 1000 voyages de travail acharné pour nos amies les abeilles. 🌍🐝
- Chaque voyage est une aventure, un acte de pollinisation qui soutient nos écosystèmes.
La prochaine fois que vous dégustez du miel, pensez à ce petit exploit de la nature et à l'importance vitale des abeilles dans notre monde. Protégeons ces incroyables ouvrières pour maintenir l'équilibre de notre environnement! 🌿🐝
#SauvonsLesAbeilles #MerveillesDuMiel #PollinisateursEnAction #NatureMerveilleuse #PetitsGestesGrandsEffets
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