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resbangmod · 2 years

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Resbang 2021 Promo #21

How to draw the line between wrath and mercy

presented by author: @victoriapyrrhi [AO3] [Twitter]

with artist: @Not-So-Scandalous

and artist: @rogha

and artist: @marshofsleep

Pairings: Soul/Maka, main Spartoi cast Rating: R Warnings: rich people snobbery, piratical activities, mentions of child harm, themes of eat the rich, robin hood-style robbery, minor character death (Maka's mom), atrocities committed by a mega corporation, basically-but-not-really-a-Firefly AU

Summary: Soul's always had the best that money can offer - schooling, technology, every opportunity you could wish for - thanks to the Company and the fact that his parents are the Directors of Corvus Sector. He doesn't think a lot about why he lives the life he does, about who creates the wealth that the Evans family and their cohort enjoy. Up until he can't ignore it anymore. Protests and violence and hundreds of stories of corruption, pollution, exploitation...

Soul takes his insider knowledge and runs on the hope that he can break the Company's strangle hold on his sector and his family.

Captain Maka Albarn and her crew do what they can to make ends meet in the wilds of space, even if it isn't all strictly legal. But more than that, they've all got an ax to grind against the Company that's taken from all of them - family, money, livelihoods, futures. They fight back when they can, but nothing really makes a dent in the stranglehold the Company has over their galaxy.

When Maka agrees to smuggle Soul off the planet, they form an unlikely alliance. Together, they just might be able to make a change.

Please enjoy the story and art previews below the cut!

The dust is thick enough that it nearly obscures the entirety of the Grigori as she settles into her landing, engines slowly cycling down. The left side touches down first, bumps up suddenly, sending the gear on the right side thudding into the chalky dirt. A moment later, the left side settles back down and the ship comes to her rest. There’s already a thick coating of reddish clay dust sticking to the landing gear and creeping up the hull.

Inside, Captain Maka Albarn subtly peels white-knuckled fingers off the back of the pilot’s chair. “Not bad, Liz,” she says, and despite the rocky, rocking landing, she does mean it. It’s only the third time Liz has piloted the Grigori solo, and it had Maka much longer before she managed a landing half as smooth. Still, it’s hard to let go of the chair.

“Could have been better,” Liz frowns. She flicks her long blonde hair back over her shoulder and unsnaps her safety harness.

Maka resists the urge for platitudes. The Thompson sisters have been part of the Grigori’’s crew long enough now that Maka knows that, despite her outwardly frivolous, careless persona, Liz has an uncanny ability when it comes to machinery and electronics. It’s been a long time since it’s taken more than a few days to master something. Usually, it’s only a matter of hours. Maka has found that it’s a fine line between being encouraging and supportive to Liz as she learns to pilot their little S-class ship and just coming across as patronizing instead.

Tsubaki had learned that particular lesson the hard way, and upon observing the whole explosive conversation from behind her cup of coffee in the galley, Maka had quickly adjusted her own tactics.

She claps her hand on Liz’s shoulder. “A couple more drops and I’ll be sleeping like a baby when you bring her down.”

Liz rolls her eyes, but grins. “Yah, yah, whatever you say, Cap.”

“Damn right whatever I say.” She punches the comms button and calls down, “Suits on and ready to deploy - let’s see if there’s anything left we can salvage. Kidd, you’re on door and comms duty.”

Next to her, Liz snorts. “Like he’d be on anything else.”

“Can you imagine him in this kind of dust?” They make their way down to the cargo bay, grabbing their helmets and latching them up. “I think his programming might self-destruct.”

“Aw, come on, Cap, he’s not that bad.”

“You can’t even say that with a straight face,” Maka admonishes. Once they’re in the bay, she calls up to Kidd again. “Lock her down and open her up, please.”

“You know I can hear you when you have the helmets on.”

“You’re just mad cause you know we’re right,” Liz says, and makes a kissy noise.

“Like I’d want to be out there. Have fun, savages. If you die, I will not be retrieving your bodies.”

#resbang #resbang 2021 #soul eater #how to draw the line between wrath and mercy

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maddie-grove · 4 years

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My Vision for the Ominous Babysitters Club

Based on this post.

Kristy Thomas makes a decisive move in founding the Babysitters Club, then continues to amass power, assets, and allies for most of the series (as well as sworn enemies). In #100: Kristy’s Downfall, she overplays her hand and is toppled from her position of power. She spends the last thirty-one books clawing her way back to the top, embittered and more tyrannical than ever.

Mary Anne Spier is a sensitive soul, more vulnerable than the rest of the club to demonic possession, life-changing encounters with eldritch beings, and the accidental acquisition of psychic abilities. Her false lover, low-level wizard Logan Bruno, senses her potential powers and jealously tries to keep her down through gaslighting. (Notable examples include his kidnapping of her cat, Tigger, and an incident where he swapped out two of her babysitting charges with eggs enchanted to look like real children.) After she gains confidence by getting a cute new haircut, she gets the upper hand in their relationship. She soon sees through his small-minded manipulations, but decides to keep him around...for now. She grows equally weary of Kristy’s authoritarian ways, leading her to mount an explosive counter-attack in #131: The Fire at Mary Anne’s House.

Claudia Kishi seems like a carefree, creative, junk-food-loving teenager, but in reality she’s a hostage to terrifying forces beyond her control. Her parents sometimes coldly refer to her as “the subject,” her older sister Janine is a sorceress of astounding talent and uncertain morals, and her old friend Kristy Thomas has threatened her into joining the BSC and letting the club meet in her room three times a week. Her only true friend is her grandmother, Mimi...until jaded city girl Stacey McGill arrives in Stoneybrook. Claudia tends to bury her head in the sand about the more uncanny aspects of her life, instead focusing on her art and more immediate threats, such as serial killers and murderous children. She’s forced to reckon with the supernatural, though, when she descends into hell in #106: Claudia, Queen of the Underworld. With the help of Janine, her eventual ally, she soon rejoins the living and embraces hedonism.

Stacey McGill flees a troubled past in New York City, only to become enmeshed in the byzantine schemes of the BSC in an attempt to help her new friend Claudia. As the series progresses, Stacey becomes more and more convinced that Kristy must be taken down, but her moral misgivings (as well as her string of dysfunctional romances, troubled relationship with her divorced parents, and struggles to manage her Type 1 diabetes) keep her from ever making a decisive move. In #83: Stacey Defects, she openly speaks out against Kristy and leaves the BSC. When life on the outside proves cold and purposeless, she hatches a scheme to ingratiate herself with Kristy again and bring her down for good. Her arc ends on an ambiguous scene in which she quietly enjoys some “cookies sweetened with fruit juice,” leading some readers to speculate that Kristy had her assassinated.

Dawn Schafer was originally conceived as a horror-movie Final Girl, a stalwart everyteen who defended her charges from Stoneybrook’s more prosaic villains (kidnappers, obscene phone callers, and a couple of masked murderers); she was meant to serve as a contrast to her eventual stepsister, the ethereal and insecure Mary Anne. As the series progressed, though, Ominous Ann M. Martin and her spooky ghostwriters ended up using Dawn whenever they wanted to try out cool new ideas. Although the results are often fascinating, the consistency of Dawn’s character suffers; however, some readers argue that Dawn’s unstable characterization is a deliberate choice that contributes to the uncanniness of the series. Her books can be split into roughly four types: straightforward slashers (#5: Where Are the Children, Dawn?); psychological horror with strong feminist/environmental/political themes (#84: Dawn on the Blacklist); creepy California-set stories with lots of drug imagery, macabre Hollywood history, and cameos from serial killers (#23: Dawn and the False Promise of the Golden West); and books that are completely dominated by Mary Anne (#31: Dawn’s Eldritch Stepsister). In one of the most optimistic books in the series, Dawn finally moves to California for good to escape Kristy’s influence and live that Francesca Lia Block life; less satisfyingly, she temporarily returns several books later, in an obvious attempt to get readers to check out the Ominous California Diaries, in which Dawn becomes an amateur sleuth who focuses on serial murders.

Mallory Pike is a combination Byronic-Kafkaesque heroine, simultaneously convinced that she is too brilliantly unconventional for normal society and that God personally despises her. She constantly rails against her cruel fate, which includes constant drudgery as the eldest of eight children, intermittent money troubles, the vicious snobbery and contempt of her peers, debilitating illness, encounters with the surveillance state, and the suspicion that she’s a talentless hack. Even when dealing with malevolent clones or a cursed book, the true horror of a Mallory book is always being Mallory. In #126: Never Look Back, Mallory, however, she breaks away from the oppressive environs of Stoneybrook to attend boarding school. Although she is terrorized and vilified by a duplicitous roommate, her problems are solved fairly quickly with the help of sympathetic classmates and reasonable adults. In her final scene, Mallory sits on her bed, beginning to question her long-held assumption that she is both destined for greatness and bound for hell.

Jessi Ramsey is a Faustian figure, always thirsting after glory and forbidden knowledge. Already a talented ballet dancer, she makes deals with various gods, demons, and other supernatural creatures to learn how to decipher runes, talk to animals, turn base metals into gold, commune with spirits, revenge herself upon her enemies, and fly. Her powers come in handy at her dance school in New York City, which is extremely cursed and haunted. Despite her towering ambitions, she is fairly easygoing, even managing to make friends with her sinister doppelgänger Jenni in #68: Jessi and the Shadow-Self. Towards the end of the series, she is faced with the choice of becoming a professional ballet dancer or obtaining the ability to turn herself into a beautiful Arabian horse at will (she is also a horse girl). She makes the mature decision to turn down both opportunities for the time being, instead opting to be a kid and experiment with necromancy, time-travel, fun doppelgänger pranks, and discussing equine literature with her best friend Mallory. In the short-lived Ominous Friends Forever series, though, she becomes a ballerina and (it is heavily implied) a were-horse, in part due to Mallory’s defection.

Abby Stevenson was introduced as an eleventh-hour interloper who switches between unhinged, corny-joke-filled attempts to turn Kristy’s life into chaos (much like the Joker in The Dark Knight) and unhinged, corny-joke-filled attempts to charm Kristy into being her girlfriend so they can be a terrifying power couple. Unlike with Dawn, her dual nature was a deliberate narrative choice; many later Ominous BSC books contain subplots that are just other club members wondering aloud what Abby’s deal is. Abby’s own books don’t shed much light on her motivations; she seems more preoccupied with ordinary adolescent concerns, like her upcoming bat mitzvah and her fraught relationship with her cryptic twin Anna (who only speaks in palindrome). Her last book, #127: The Twilight of Abby Stevenson, is a surprisingly sweet coming-of-age romance in which she and Kristy drop their hostilities and go to the movies on Valentine’s Day. Their relationship ultimately falls apart, though, thanks to Kristy’s unquenchable thirst for revenge on her enemies. Abby breaks up with her and gets really into David Lynch.

Logan Bruno is a low-level wizard who comes from the swamp and hates his father. As an alternate officer for the club, he sometimes babysits.

Shannon Kilbourne, the other alternate officer, is something of a blank, but she’s heavily implied to be a lost Dollanganger of some sort.

#babysitters club #horror (kind of)

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sugarqvills · 4 years

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links: pinterest, bio

BASICS

FULL NAME: Emmeline Asteria Vance PRONUNCIATION: Emmeline Asteria Vance MEANING: Emmeline ( Germanic - Work; French - Industrious, Hardworking; Latin - Little Rival ), Asteria ( Latin - Star ), Vance ( English - Fen, Marsh ) REASONING: Emmeline’s given name comes from her her paternal grandmother. Her middle name sprung from her mother’s once-great love for Greek mythology. NICKNAME(S): Emme, Vance. BIRTH DATE: 24 December - 12:32 PM AGE: Nineteen ZODIAC: Capricorn Sun, Libra Moon, Aries Rising

Capricorn is the tenth sign of the zodiac and governs the bones, joints, and knees. Positive traits include pragmatism, maturity, patience, determination, awareness, a strong work ethic, realism, discipline, money management, the willingness to overcome hard luck, leadership, initiative, opportunism, prudence, and cunning. Negative traits include pessimism, melancholy, emotional coldness, manipulation, obsession with work and ambitions to the detriment of personal development, remoteness, and materialistic snobbery.

The traits emphasized here will be ambition, determination, discipline, and pragmatism. You can’t make that castle in the sky if you don’t build a solid foundation under it, and Capricorns excel at building foundations. (Actually, they excel at planning the foundations and directing others to do the grunt labour. It’s not that they’re afraid to get their hands dirty, but large work usually requires delegation and a staff, and Capricorns are managers more often than not.) While not flamboyant or showy about it, Capricorns still tend to be obsessive overachievers, a common trait in House Slytherin. Too, wizards born under the sign of Capricorn are good at being discreet, secretive, and diplomatic; whereas the Libra’s diplomacy is based on charm and a desire for harmony, the Capricorn’s diplomacy is based on the knowledge that being on good terms with people is extremely useful in getting one’s way or finding out sensitive information. These also are traits commonly associated with House Slytherin. They might not be sexy traits, but they’re very handy.

GENDER: Cisgender Female PRONOUNS: She/Her ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Panromantic. SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Demisexual. NATIONALITY: Irish ETHNICITY: White

BACKGROUND

BIRTH PLACE: Athenry, Ireland HOMETOWN: Athenry, Ireland SOCIAL CLASS: Upper Class EDUCATION LEVEL: Hogwarts, sixth year HOUSE: Slytherin FATHER: Oliver Vance, 56, Former Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office ( DECEASED ) MOTHER: Rosalyn Vance neé Rowle, 54, Former Member of the Wizengamot ( DECEASED ) SIBLING(S): None. EXTENDED FAMILY: Constance Vance, 86 ( paternal grandmother ) BIRTH ORDER: Only child. PET(S): Pawcrates - six year old black cat.

SKILLS & ABILITIES

PHYSICAL STRENGTH: 6/10 OFFENSE: 8.5/10 DEFENSE: 9/10 SPEED: 8/10 INTELLIGENCE: 9/10 ACCURACY: 9/10 AGILITY: 8/10 STAMINA: 8/10 TEAMWORK: While Emmeline is capable of doing well with a group, she prefers to work on her own. She’ll help where she can, but would far prefer if she were left to her own devices. TALENTS: Dueling. Critical thinking. Planning. Drinking at least one entire bottle of wine by herself in a single sitting. SHORTCOMINGS: Unhealthy coping mechanisms. Emotionally repressive. Doesn’t let others in easily. Negative thinking. LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: English, Irish Gaelic, Latin. DRIVE?: No. JUMP-STAR A CAR?: No. CHANGE A FLAT TIRE?: No. RIDE A BICYCLE?: Yes. SWIM?: Yes. PLAY AN INSTRUMENT?: The piano, thanks to Gran. PLAY CHESS?: Yes, though she would prefer to spend her free time doing other things. TIE A TIE?: Yes. PICK A LOCK?: No.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

FACE CLAIM: Alycia Debnam-Carey. EYE COLOR: Green. HAIR COLOR: Brown. HAIR TYPE/STYLE: Normally, Emmeline leaves her hair down, allowing it to fall however it likes. Frequently, she’s been known to throw her hair into a ponytail or loose, messy bun while working, cleaning, or even knitting. GLASSES/CONTACTS?: No. DOMINANT HAND: Right. Emmeline is ambidextrous, but tends to favour her right hand more often than her left. HEIGHT: 165 cm ( 5′5″ ) WEIGHT: 55 kg ( 121 pounds ) BUILD: Slender. EXERCISE HABITS: Despite knowing that she should do more, Emmeline more often than not spends time at home knitting and drinking, rather than running or doing other exercises. SKIN TONE: Fair. TATTOOS: At present, Emmeline has none. PIERCINGS: Just a single hole in each ear. MARKS/SCARS: Emmeline has a few small scars from her childhood, most notable is the one on her right hand, near the thumb. Most don’t even notice it, unless they know precisely what they’re looking for. USUAL EXPRESSION: Emmeline’s typical expression is one without a smile. To many, she could come across as cold or uncaring; it’s not that she actively tries to dissuade people talking to her, it’s just what happens, especially when she’s focused. Once put around friends, however, the demeanour changes and there are more smile than one might otherwise find. CLOTHING STYLE: Emmeline is a big fan of loose, simple tops or button-ups with more fitted trousers. On very rare or special occasions, she may wear a dress, though it is never anything more than a sold colour with simple accents. In addition to her comfortable tops, Emmeline is also a fan of flannel shirts and heavier, knitted jumpers when it starts to get cold. JEWELRY: Simple silver studs for earrings in her daily life, a small silver music note pendant on a thin silver chain that she got from Gran for her thirteenth birthday. Otherwise, Emmeline isn’t one for jewelry. ALLERGIES: None, as far as she knows.

QUESTIONS

How does your character behave around people they like? Emmeline is more relaxed around those she likes. Though she isn’t the most easy-going person in the world, she is more inclined to make jokes, laugh, and not stress as much as she normally does. How quick is your character to suspect someone else? Does this change if they are close with that person? As a rule, Emmeline is very hesitant to trust others. However, once you have her trust, there are very few things you could do to lose it and have her suspect you of something terrible. How quick or slow is your character to resort to physical violence in a confrontation? Words are typically Emmeline’s go-to in a confrontational situation. There have been many instances where she’s eventually just walked away from someone rather than allow things to progress. In extreme instances, hexes and jinxes have been thrown, but as far as she can remember, there has never been anything more than a slap. What is/was your character’s relationship with their father like? It was a very strained relationship, if it could be called a relationship at all. She knew very little about the man he was in his later years, and what she knew of his formative years had only been the result of stories her Gran told her over the years. Is your character more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others? Though it generally tends to vary from person to person, she would probably tell you that she admires ambition more often than not. What does your character like in other people? There are a host of things she likes in others, but the first few that come to mind are: the ability to learn from their mistakes, forgiveness, a desire to learn in general, whether or not they are capable of growing as a person, honesty. Compassion for other people. Is your character more likely to keep trying a solution/method that didn’t work the first time, or immediately move on to a different solution/method? A bit of both. Just because her first attempt didn’t work the way she wanted it to, doesn’t mean she’ll abandon it in its entirety. With each failed attempt, an adjustment is made. It’s only once she has exhausted every possible method that she can think of that she will move on to a different one. How easy or difficult is it for your character to say “I love you?” Can they say it without meaning it? Saying “I love you” is one of, if not the most, difficult things for Emmeline to do. She has a problem letting herself love other people; there is a constant fear of abandonment, of not being enough, of disappointing them. She struggles to let those she truly cares for know just how much they mean to her. If she can say it to you, then there’s no chance it’s meaningless. She doesn’t have it in her to force something of that magnitude and not mean it. The only person Emmeline has never struggled with those words over is her Gran. The woman who spent so much of her life trying to instill certain values into her granddaughter. The person who raised Emmeline, who wanted nothing but the best for her. The one person Emmeline always thought would be her only constant, the only person she would be willing to die to protect. When she wasn’t in school or working, Emmeline tried to make it a priority to tell the older woman how much she loved her and appreciated all that she had done over the years

INSPIRATIONS & TRAITS

CHARACTER INSPIRATIONS: prudence halliwell ( charmed ), sally owens ( practical magic ), jessica jones ( jessica jones ), amy santiago ( brooklyn nine nine ), laurel castillo ( how to get away with murder ), wynona earp ( wynona earp ), cristina yang ( grey’s anatomy ), rosa diaz ( brooklyn nine nine ), caitlin snow ( the flash ), rosita espinosa ( the walking dead ), laurel lance ( arrow ), raymond holt ( brooklyn nine nine ), rory gilmore ( gilmore girls ), lucy preston ( timeless ), peyton sawyer ( one tree hill )

AESTHETIC: piano notes softly filling an empty room, storms raging outside while you sit in the comfort of your home, books towering so high you can’t see over them, hot tea in a chipped mug, freshly baked red velvet cake cooling on the counter, four cups of coffee in the morning just to feel like you’re somewhat there, the faintest whiff of whisky lingering in the air after an especially trying night, the deafening silence that slowly envelops you when the numbness sets in, unfinished knitting projects lying lazily over chair arms by the fireplace

SONGS: made of stone - daughter / cherry wine - hozier / that i would be good - alanis morissette / please don't say you love me - gabrielle aplin / breathe me - sia / you say - lauren daigle / hard times ( ballad ) - halocene / dear happy - gabrielle aplin / lovely - lauren babic and seraphim POSITIVE TRAITS: assiduous, strong-willed, intelligent, dedicated, tidy NEGATIVE TRAITS: melancholic, self-blaming, stubborn, inflexible NEUTRAL TRAITS: ambitious, sarcastic, quiet, restrained

#( flecked with ash. )

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cooltrailblazer · 4 years

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Your money may be enough to last you a lifetime if you follow this

The real measure of your wealth is how much you would be worth if you lost all your money.

-Bernard Meltzer

Money matters!! Let me guess… One big worry that keeps raking your senses probably everyday is,have you made enough money to last you a lifetime? Are you doing enough to sail you through these tough times where Covid led recession has overwhelmed the future and your financial planning has caved in. Life is limping and prospects are not so cheery either.

So long as I worked I often lost hold of my calculations and combinations as my finances and planning were always desperate to spin out of control no matter how carefully I went about reigning them in. Heart burns, dry throat and a palpitations all conspired and left me worried stiff. Frustration raged inside me,every time I rummaged the pages from my personal diary.

Am I earning enough? Have I saved enough to last me a lifetime?What more could I do to ramp up my coffers?…. It was painful… obnoxious… stressful.You name it .. I too have braved the same pangs. Worst still, lungful of disapproval will squarely hit me whenever I chose to parade my financial planning before my family.

But then, the time changed and so did I and believe me it was only after months altogether before I could realize that good things always await to happen!!.. All you need is to reach out to them .I realized that nobody was going to help me and I alone can gift myself a free life … a life build more on happiness than loads of money. Spiritual snobbery..eh? You may say so.. but then opinions differ.

Ask yourself….When was the last time you questioned your wisdom in money matters? Can you really draw a financial plan that will outlive in these troubled times? Are you ready to cross swords with scarier times that will follow the pandemic? And who knows how things will take shape in times to come. We are yet to ascertain the extent of damage done, remember. What the life will be like is anybody’s guess.

The fracas is deceptive and the arguments are enormous….

It pains me to know that somehow everything that relates to money has been painted dark and we have been scared out of our wits by a handful few who so often tell us that world will be left with very thin to lean on, that we have underestimated the perils of not having any income or at best very little of it and that we may lose all that we possess now, if we are not careful.

Is it that dreadful? Is it really all about money and its adequacy?

Let’s find out…

In every stage of our lives as we grow up, we all develop that uncanny lustful fancy to money, worthy of its value for what it buys for us and what changes it could bring to our lives. See….this mindless fascination has an enchanting grip. Our day begins and end with greenbacks hammering out every other thought from our minds all the time … struggling all day long for more and more of it, even changing ourselves, sometimes for good but often for worse.

What did I do to salvage myself ?

It’s hard to prescribe one bitter pill that will last you a life time !! .. but what the heck!! Let’s give it a try. Perspectives die hard but have tendency to change …and change fast.

Make a smart beginning; just look back at your years of work and see if you could smell some satisfaction and happiness. ‘I think I could have done better’, many of you would argue. Possibly yes .But see, you earn only what you yearn for. Nothing comes cheap. Be contented with what you always thought was enough to be useful and gainful to you .

Find peace with yourself, make truce with your worries, failures and that gut wrenching feeling of utter disgust, and you have already taken the first step towards a great planning.

In the years I grew up and went to school and then to college, nobody bothered to ask what I liked to study or what I could become. Maybe times were like that or maybe I chose what came my way and hastened to get a job that paid. That’s all that mattered then . Rest….the life kept spinning in circles around that.

But then, I never regretted myself. I never toyed with the idea that I shall remain what I did for a profession for the rest of my life. That I will guard all those years of knowledge and experience and keep on shoving to the world till I live,that if it happens and my ideas on money matters are jinxed, I won’t regret it.

I could never get a hang of these trappings of the job I pursued. The world outside appeared a much bigger and important place than the job I held. I could never come to terms with that puffed up importance of what I did, the post and the power that followed. So, I looked around and knew better things were awaiting to happen.

And so should you … shun the pressures of work you do, stop pushing yourself to please your boss, be a passive presence to mindless meetings and refrain from networking with people you do not like.

Believe me you will not fall short of what you get in return… a true freedom of sorts. You can be anything and anybody you ever want. Rejoice the ordinariness of things and you will discover the pursuits that bring joy and happiness free of conscious or pretentious efforts.

Once you step into the world of simplicity ,amazing things will begin to happen to you . Three sets of clothing and perhaps two sets of footwear. No more…and the change has already begun.Those ,who work from home these days shall comprehend better what being simple is all about. To be frugal but not a miser has an overwhelming sense of being free . But then, don’t break your heart either , if it cries out for your favorite pajamas or blue suit. Go for it..Remember you are not settling scores with yourself.

How you dress up does not mean the end of the circle of people around you. Your charisma, power and position carry you better. Simplicity merely soothes the soul and discourages the irrelevant. If you have just begun, may be you should take a break once in a while and let the heart rule a little. You will figure out what it means to let things happen to you without you being in the driver’s seat all the time.

What you must do though are three things in that order.

Three wonderful ways to discover your true self

To begin with, start living simple and simplify everything you own .. from assets to investments to strategies. Make a beginning and you will be amazed how all that you have will last you out… if you draw a little and use a little . It’s all about striking a balance between what you need, if it is necessary and how much you need.

Once you have learned the ease of use, simplicity of need and willingness to draw,you will be astonished to find yourself free of money worries in no time . Of course, this does not mean that you should pussyfoot around selling your house, car ,gadgets and stuff like that, merely because you are trying to live simple. You really need not push yourself to a wall only because you think you need to kick the ball harder to hit the goalpost ASAP.!!

Second, be useful and include the world around you the way you see it. Be purposeful and find ways to engage and contribute. Work wherever and whatever matters. The impact and influence that it will have on other’s lives will bring your abilities and skills to table besides leaving you thrilled with joy.

Last but not the least, find out what you need most. Laughing your heart out, strolling in golden beaches laced with crimson sunsets, soul stirring music and heaps of comfort food, or cars, gadgets , mindless assortment of clothes and jewelry. Choice rests with you and remember lure of consumption is an entrapment of sorts. Search yourself , and you will find that things that really matter do not need much money anyways.

I reckon you could be anything but reckless or lazy if you have searched yourself truly with all honesty and rejigged yourself to be the one you ever wanted to be the in the first place.

Once you learn to learn, engage ,contribute and participate your life will change for good.

So, where does this all lands us? Doesn’t money really matter or does it makes things worse? I wouldn’t argue but if your everyday life is simple and desires are less, how much of it would you need anyway.

If you worry that this will turn you into a someone, who fears that he would be walking around alone, sharing food at rundown restaurants with strangers, hastily gulping down those drinks without tossing since no familiar faces are around and sleeping in night shelters or worse still under the stars, it’s time to reshape your life. reinvent your strategies and revisit your wallet.

Just do it right this one time.

….And remember money is merely a consequence of success and not a means to happiness

#moneymatters

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jemarmeau-blog · 7 years

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The Banality of Suburbia

2/1/17 "Pretty places make me realize how ugly Cary is." This is the caption of an Instagram post on my friend's sister's account, featured under a picture of her posing candidly at a beach in Charleston, South Carolina. It was upon seeing this post when I came to an epiphany: I'm not crazy. I'm not the only person who sees our "perfect town" as a bland, vanilla suburbia filled with social-climbing housewives and chemical lawns. I'm not the only person who sees my town as a mecca for upper-middle class Yankees, coming down for warmer weather, cheaper square footage, and a highly-regarded public education system. Let's dive in: Before I start the rest of this post, I want people to understand something; I know I'm privileged. I'm fortunate enough to be white and living in America; I'm fortunate enough to be able to write this blog. While I wouldn't consider myself upper-middle class like the rest of my town, I understand that my family has it tremendously better than most people in the world. Even in this seemingly-despotic presidency, I know that not much will change in my personal life. While all white people weren't avaricious colonists in the 1700s who monopolized off of Native Americans (which I'll expand on in later posts), I understand my place. Let me say it again: I AM PRIVILEGED. While I'm about to complain about the town I live in, don't get the assumption that I'm pitying myself or my living situation. Don't say I didn't' tell you. Now, onto the meat of this post. I'll you some background knowledge on the area. The Raleigh-Durham community of North Carolina is the second-largest metro in the state and is one of the fastest-growing areas in the U.S. The region has experienced very recent, prolific growth with the construction of Research Triangle Park. This attracted several immigrants from the North, and from farther places like Southeast Asia. Most of the homes here have been constructed in the past twenty years, as well as several of the schools and shopping areas. There's no real history in the town except for our "downtown" (which is barely a street) and Cary High School, the institution in which we pride ourselves enormously in having. A majority of people weren't born here, and most people only live, eat and sleep in Cary; you get the point. It's the epitome of a bedroom town. With all of this new growth comes several problems. One of the more prominent issues surrounding the area is the lack of any real entertainment. While suburbs are often characterized as the "best of both worlds," I and several of my compadres find them to be quite the contrary. We don't have the freedom or sense of community of small towns in the country, nor do we have the actually interesting events of cities. For the youth of Cary, we're stuck in an inescapable catch-22. Our big "town events" are silly little parades and outdoor matinees that are commonplace in most small towns. The only problem with this is what was stated before; we have no real sense of community. Cary is simply a place to eat and sleep. New England snobbery has taken hold of the suburbs, drowning out camaraderie in the area. It is not uncommon is to see a pair of tuft-hunting homemakers power-walking down our streets with a Fitbit on the right wrist, drinking a wickedly green kale smoothie with almond butter with their free hand. What's even worse with this competition is that it's so fake. The suburban moms who rank Cary in one of the "top ten best places to live" are the same women who drive their ankle weights into the ground on strolls through Cary's streets. We're trying to be something that we're not. We hold all of the superficiality of Fairfield, Connecticut (a town not far from my parents' homesteads) without any of the money or establishment. We surround ourselves with country clubs and golf communities without having any real passion for recreation or golfing. We're no Princeton, New Jersey; we're no Westchester, New York. We're just one small, pretentious town with an attitude outweighing its sad, young history. This juvenile pomp feeds into more than just the fakeness of the town, or the plethora of insipid elementary school plays. We're literally killing ourselves. When my brother and I went on a walk the other day to a stream that we frequent, we couldn't help but notice the poignant stench of dead, rotting fish. Their lifelessness pervaded the river, and we followed it upstream to nothing of our surprise. The water was fed by a lake, surrounded by a field of neon green lawns. We filed a complaint to the town the next day, to no avail. This is the Cary I've come to despise. And yes, I know I'm not a refugee from Syria. I know I'm not sixteen-and-pregnant living in the slums of Detroit. But I do know this: Cary has become the legitimate scapegoat of many of my personal problems, and I find the area to be the source of a lot of my issues--angsty teenager or not. I'm tired of going to Downtown Raleigh in search of genuinely interesting events. I'm tired of going to the backwoods of Wake County for nature walks and exploration. I'm tired of being shown the faces of plastic people, a town of walking Barbies. I'm tired of being surrounded by a hub of McMansions and ugly condos, ones which any architect would deem unpalatable. I'm tired of watching PTA moms run with false vitality into the depths of our streets, protein smoothies hand in hand. I'm tired of being told that "every kid hates their hometown," or that "Cary's a great place to raise a family." The town's fine if you want to raise your kid to be an unexposed teacup on the verge of breaking 24/7. It's not a good place if you want to raise your child with a sense of bona fide community. With all this being said, I have nothing against Cary. I just have a problem with me living in Cary. It's hard to explain on paper without looking too spoiled, although I might've already accomplished that. While I understand that I'm fortunate to live in a "safe" (and paranoid) community, I also lack the organic sense of origin that surrounds most American communities. Yes; that's the word. Organic. I want an organic life. With real people and real character. I want to make my mark in a world that isn't afraid of being fat or having dull lawns. I want to make a name for myself with genuine people in my life. Take a break from the pesticides, Cary. You're killing all the fish, and you need to start caring. Try to be more . . . organic. -JM

#blog #blogger #high school #freshman #writing

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mmsmusings · 3 years

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The Lure of Academia, and Why We Can’t Let it Go

I never truly learned what a love/hate relationship was like until I began my journey in academia.

Let me explain.

I would say that this journey truly began when I started working towards earning a master's degree in art history. While I was an undergraduate, I never questioned that I would get a master's degree; indeed, the only question was: where? After applying to a number of schools, I was thrilled to head off to the University of Edinburgh. It was there that I truly fell in love with academia while also discovering many things I disliked about it. Let me add this disclaimer: I had marvelous experiences at Edinburgh. The conclusions I have reached are entirely general and based on personal observations.

The Positive Side of Academia

What is it that keeps tempting me to return to academia? Why am I still browsing PhD programs? I've narrowed down my answer to the following points.

Conversations

I learned that I loved seminars. Having everyone read selected texts and then discuss those texts for hours was absolutely wonderful to me. I met some like-minded individuals with whom I became close academically, but I was also excited to be challenged by those with whom I disagreed. I highlighted and re-read the texts, thought of questions, and finally became the student I'd aspired to be for years: a talkative one. When asked about something of interest to me, I could (and still can) go on for hours and hours. Ask anyone I know! There are few things I love more than a good conversation!

Reading

Speaking of reading, I thrived in the text-heavy environment of the program of which I was a part. Not only did I read what was required, but I found related texts and perused those, as well. Additionally, researching was, to me, like solving mysteries by asking just the right questions and re-formulating the way in which I thought to produce a wide variety of resources on a given subject. I loved browsing the fascinating selection available to me at the library and checking books out. This was something I did almost every week. As a lover of reading, the concept of getting credit for reading was wonderful. Not only that, but having a built-in community of people with whom to discuss the texts was a magical experience for me. When I finished my master's degree, I even started a book club because this was a part of life as an academic that I never wanted to let go.

Community

Having people around who know what you're talking about (most of the time, anyway), or who are at least vaguely interested in similar things, is really what I found to be the greatest enticement to academia. This is something that I still miss every single day.

The Negative Side of Academia

Clearly, in many ways, I had a wonderful time in graduate school. However, there are some negative aspects to academia that apply to many schools, and I can say this with confidence, as I am in graduate school...again (I know, I'm hopeless).

Expense

First of all, it is so, so incredibly expensive. Even if you are lucky enough to secure great scholarships and/or grants, you probably won't have much time to work. If you do manage to find time to work, you'll be spreading yourself so thinly that you will get to the point that you won't even be able to function (ask me how I know). Scraping money together is no fun, and it is even less fun when it seems impossible to do so. Depending on the degree, you may have to make all sorts of time, money, mental, and emotional sacrifices for 1-7 years (yes, 7! No, I'm not referencing medical school - this is in reference to some doctoral programs for art history). This means that you will, inevitably face burnout in pretty much every possible way while trying to figure out how to live with limited funds.

Burnout

Let's talk a little bit more about burnout. I think it's important because it's difficult to know just what it's like, unless you experience it in the academic context.

Imagine you are tired in every possible way while also feeling like you are worthless and will never finish the work that is required of you. This is how I define and explain academic burnout.

The stress of trying to get work done when your heart is just not in it anymore is only exacerbated by the mental acuity that is not present that you had at the beginning of the semester or project.

When I was working on my thesis, I had a pile of books as tall as I was checked out from the library. I had so many PDFs downloaded onto my computer and so many tabs open on my browser that it felt like my head was spinning.

What is the cure? Quitting altogether or simply not caring anymore. In my experience, it is nearly impossible to just "not care."

Snobbery

Academia is, inherently, incredibly snobby. There, I said it. You've all been thinking it, I'm sure!

It's really frustrating to me that this is the case. In my opinion, learning should be for everyone. I am a teacher, after all.

People in academia think they're something special. I can say this because I've been there. I don't think I'm any better than the next person for having extensive knowledge about John Singer Sargent and art of Europe in the late 19th - early 20th centuries. The same should be the case for any academic. To be fair, I've met some truly lovely people in academia. I've met an equal number of snobs, though. I'm sorry (well, no, I'm actually not), but being an academic does not give you the license to be rude to others. I will certainly treat you with respect, but you should return that respect with basic dignity.

Some of the e-mails I received from faculty at universities when considering a PhD a couple of years ago would make you fall out of your chair and then become very angry indeed.

One of my favorite TV shows, Endeavour, regularly tackles this aspect of academia. If you haven't seen the show, it is a mystery series that takes place in the late 1960s - early 1970s in Oxford, England. The protagonist for whom the show is named works in the police after dropping out of school at Oxford, but he stays in Oxford. Despite never finishing a degree in higher education, Endeavour Morse is one of the most intelligent characters that I have encountered in fiction, ever. Due to his position in the police force, however, he is treated as though he is not only unintelligent, but also of lesser status than those either in school or on staff in Oxford. I love his witty comebacks, of which there are many. I also thoroughly appreciate how he continues to educate himself and enjoy intellectual pursuits, all apart from an academic context. If you want to see more clearly what I mean in this point, watch the show. You should just watch the show, anyway. It's just so good!

Results

What do we do all of this work for? I asked myself this pretty regularly towards the end of my degree. Later, as I searched and searched and searched some more for a job, I continuously asked myself this same question. Why?

There's one obvious reason: employment. I really wanted to become a professor. I did become one. That being said, I still don't teach as a professor full-time. Finding a job in academia would be daunting to anyone, I assure you. Sadly, getting a master's degree isn't always helpful when looking for a good job - or any job, for that matter.

Apart from employment, though, why?

Answering the question isn't a simple task - it's such a nuanced issue. It really depends on the person. I think a lot of it has to do with a love of learning that is difficult to satiate. Anyway, that's what I've found. Missing a built-in community is another reason.

At the end of the day (I can never say or write that without thinking of Les Mis...), I have recognized something important. My favorite parts of academia are not restricted to the university setting. Sure, it may be easier to find community, have conversations, and focus on purposeful reading there, but - and I can't stress this enough - it isn't necessary.

Over the past few years, I've really learned a lot about how I can connect with others and continue learning, all on my own. Not only has it been extremely rewarding, but I haven't faced burnout, haven't had to pay exorbitant fees, and I rarely encounter snobbery.

I did go back to graduate school last year for entirely practical reasons. To be entirely honest, I find my other learning endeavors and outlets to be far more fulfilling.

Maybe, one day, I will work towards a PhD. I don't feel the need to now, though.

Basically, what I'm trying to say is that you don't need brick and mortar schools to experience and enjoy the perks of academia. You can have the good without the bad!

I'm not trying to talk you out of pursuing higher education. I am all for it! I just think it's important to pursue it for the right reasons, and it's even more important to be aware of the pros and cons before you commit.

If you, too, have thoughts about academia, I'd love to know!

I'll end my thoughts on academia with this zinger from one of my favorite books, Gaudy Night, by Dorothy L. Sayers (whom I adore). If you know, you know:

“A facility for quotation covers the absence of original thought.”

This long, long initial post on my new blog is my roundabout way of saying that this blog is a place where I hope to write about my intellectual pursuits. Please join me in the conversation and help me make a fun learning community!

#education #academia

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wendyimmiller · 5 years

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Garden regionally. Get inspired globally.

Guest Rant by Marianne Willburn

Somewhere near the bottom of every writer’s artistic license, a clever wordsmith will find the following recommendation:

Monty Don

“Comically exaggerating the position of one’s opponent is encouraged in the defense of one’s argument.”[i]

Thus, after verbally sparring with Scott Beuerlein over the curiously inflammatory subject of whether to openly read British garden writers, or to do so under the covers by flashlight – all the while pledging fidelity to the American values of Weed & Feed; a tortured Scott is wrestling with the inadequacies of a Midwestern accent late into a Cincinnati evening, and I am apparently one step away from a sexting relationship with Monty Don.

Yet, beyond the slings and the arrows and the thoroughly base attempt to play cards as sneaky as cancer and a dead, beloved dog (I see you one dog and raise you a dad, Scott), the rebuttal beautifully illustrates the constant niggling suspicion American gardeners have that the British are looking down their noses at us, feeding us advice to help us fail, sniggering with intent, and securing all the fat Timber contracts in order to render our garden gurus speechless upon their own soil.[ii]

Rubbish.

Or if you prefer, horseshit.

And when social media gets involved, the comments reveal our innate prejudices and (I believe) underlying insecurities as Americans.

For the record:

I am not a self-righteous Brit who ignores and disparages American garden writers because I am so enchanted with the idea of tea at four and ha-has across the south lawn that I can’t remember my USDA zone. I AM an American garden writer with dual citizenship who has lived most of her life in America, reads authors on both sides of the Atlantic and writes for American publications on American soil. I married a Marine. And not as a war bride.

And neither is Scott a Trumpian angry ethnocentrist (as one commenter lamented) because he has a beef with the relevance of British garden writing to American gardeners. He was clearly just having a bad day.

Perhaps it was a work-related trauma. Spring is a cold and busy season at the Cincinnati Zoo. The last thing the Manager of Botanical Garden Outreach needs to have shoved down his throat is a picture of Fergus Garrett standing under a fruiting Musa basjoo.

Perhaps someone left a copy of George Plumptre’s The English Country House Garden in the men’s toilets. We can only speculate.

Nevertheless, something primal snapped in the man. I get it. But to throw out the cherubic baby with the bath water? That’s when I objected.

It’s just so damned predictable.

Though a strong stance, Scott took a safe one. An American audience is not going to object to giving the Brits a tongue-lashing for what we immediately assume to be their propensity towards snobbery, condescension and arrogance. And, any written defense of such a reprehensible population will be met with equal certainty that the author [obviously bewitched] eats her eggs soft-boiled.

An autumn tapestry at the newly opened Delaware Botanic Gardens, designed by Dutch Wave guru Piet Oudouf, and providing 25 acres of forage, habitat and outstanding beauty for wildlife & visitors.

Except.

Americans are not innocent in this game. Far from it. From my American pine cradle, I’ve grown up in both worlds. My mother is a California rancher’s daughter, my father, a public-schooled Brit. After a lifetime of lively conversations around their dining room table with friends from far and wide, I can attest to the fact that the two cultures take great delight in a strong sense of superiority over one other. I’ve seen my share of sparring. Subtle and not so.

All these decades after the American Revolution, there is still the spirit of rebellion in your average American heart and we’re deeply (and rightly) proud of it. We object to being told what to do – whether it’s what to do for a living, what to wear to a funeral, or what to plant in our gardens. We expect the luxury of space, and claim it when we can – from 4200 square foot homes for two people to insisting on a wide berth when standing at an ATM.

We’re pioneers, explorers and dreamers. But we’re also pragmatists. A great many of us feel strongly that we don’t need a two thousand year-old language to refer to a plant our daddies always called Ramps. And if we want to spell it with a capital R, that’s our business. We sure as hell don’t need people with a perfect climate telling us how to grow it.

Even though they probably weren’t.

In their less generous moments, the Brits look upon us as spoilt children who think the world revolves around us. (Scott, your original essay didn’t help with this.) They write for their own as surely as we write for ours; and if it’s American money that’s buying a gardening book, they credit that money with the good sense to recognize that it doesn’t live in Cornwall – and to adapt accordingly.

They’ve got their own issues and insecurities certainly. In a country with an average population density of 720 people per square mile (the USA is 87)[iii], space is a luxury many never dream of attaining, no matter how quickly they get on the property ladder or how upwardly mobile their lifestyle.

This means that they can be a little prickly about American ideas of personal space. But they are an exceptionally self-reliant people – particularly those who live rurally – making do with very little to create lives that most Americans would find inconvenient.

Sparked by the blight that is decimating boxwood, RHS Wisley has created a knot garden composed of alternate shrubs to inspire depressed gardeners. I can’t grow several of these species, but it doesn’t stop me taking what I can from this fantastic, educational display. (Though not perhaps cuttings.)

When it comes to gardening, they know what they’ve got: the Gulf Stream and hundreds of years of exploiting it to create some of the best gardens in the world; and a culture that gardens more than it doesn’t. But they also know what they don’t have. Besides the obvious (colonies in the Americas & room to swing a cat), they don’t have the guarantee of a decent summer every year.

So, here we are. They, envious of our wide open spaces and [mostly] abundant sunshine. Us, fascinated by their walled kitchen gardens and high streets clothed in annuals. We may admit to a little jealousy – joke about it perhaps – right up until the moment we start feeling the slightest bit insecure.

Then, Americans tend to lash out in righteous fury….

“I don’t need to know the [insert expletive] “proper” [voice dripping with sarcasm] name for this [long pause] blue poppy, to grow it!”

…while the Brits rely on cold condescension.

“But you’re not growing it particularly well, are you?”

And the resentments build.

Now, no one with an ounce (or a gram) of sense thinks that we shouldn’t garden regionally in America, or for that matter, anywhere else in this world. That we shouldn’t find garden writers who live where we live and garden where we garden in order to help us to gain knowledge and experience relevant to our climate.

Influences from all over the world come together in the wildly beautiful gravel garden at Chanticleer Garden, PA.

But to dream, and perhaps more importantly, to innovate, we should inspire ourselves globally: Paradise gardens of Andalusia, potagers in Normandy, xeriscapes in San Diego, shambas in East Africa. People working with their specific environments to create life-giving works of art that other gardeners can observe, absorb and adapt to their own climates and their own environments. Thus:

Half of Europe is embracing naturalistic pollinator and wildlife-friendly designs inspired in part by the prairies and open spaces of the Americas, and led by top designers. Hell, even Hyde Park is letting the grass grow. Do they loathe their own traditions?

A nearby grower friend is showcasing & selling Mediterranean look-alike plants (in a cruel and chilly Mid-Atlantic 6b) as Cali-faux-nian. The customers love it. Did she throw out her summer stock of petunias & calibrachoa?

Monty Don is inspiring his slavering audience to create restful Moorish gardens within the limitations of urban garden flats and boring, but respectable suburban neighborhoods. Does he thus despise boring, but respectable suburban neighborhoods? Well, probably, but we can all agree upon that.

Therefore, I plead with gardeners, garden educators, and Scott on a chilly spring day, who wish to make a full retreat into the safe space of regional gardening advice delivered by regional gardening experts:

Garden regionally. Inspire yourself globally.

Cutting ourselves off from other influences is short-sighted, possibly pig-headed, and will not lead to innovative, exciting design movements of the future. And for those now racing to the captcha to virtuously proclaim how few damns they give for “exciting design movements of the future” (I’m talking to you mom): it’s the Dutch Wave/New Perennial Movement you can thank for inspiring a new generation of gardeners – and non-gardeners – to create pollinator-friendly landscapes in an increasingly urbanized world.

Tom Stuart-Smith’s innovative design within the walled garden at Broughton Grange encourages gardeners all over the world to move beyond traditional borders and contrast formal architectural elements on a relaxed, perennial canvas.

This isn’t a zero sum game. The rest of the world does some things better than we do, and vice versa. Know what you know about where you garden, and know it well. Take time to know more. Look for alternative opinions. Read footnotes. Whether British or American, pens deftly wielded as daggers can be a great deal more effective than those used to spoon-feed.

Doing all this doesn’t make you a snob – it makes you smart. And it just might put you at the top of your regional game.

Marianne Willburn is an American garden columnist and author of the book Big Dreams, Small Garden. Read more at www.smalltowngardener.com

Photo credit for Monty Don. All other photos by the author.

[i]Neither the license nor the sentence actually exist, although they should.

[ii] C’mon Timber, seriously. What if Bloomsbury snaps us up?

[iii] Countries By Density Population. (2019-10-01). Retrieved 2019-10-09, from http://worldpopulationreview.com/countries/countries-by-density/

Garden regionally. Get inspired globally. originally appeared on GardenRant on October 16, 2019.

from Gardening https://www.gardenrant.com/2019/10/garden-regionally-get-inspired-globally.html via http://www.rssmix.com/

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turfandlawncare · 5 years

Text

Garden regionally. Get inspired globally.

Guest Rant by Marianne Willburn

Somewhere near the bottom of every writer’s artistic license, a clever wordsmith will find the following recommendation:

Monty Don

“Comically exaggerating the position of one’s opponent is encouraged in the defense of one’s argument.”[i]

Rubbish.

Or if you prefer, horseshit.

And when social media gets involved, the comments reveal our innate prejudices and (I believe) underlying insecurities as Americans.

For the record:

Perhaps someone left a copy of George Plumptre’s The English Country House Garden in the men’s toilets. We can only speculate.

Nevertheless, something primal snapped in the man. I get it. But to throw out the cherubic baby with the bath water? That’s when I objected.

It’s just so damned predictable.

An autumn tapestry at the newly opened Delaware Botanic Gardens, designed by Dutch Wave guru Piet Oudouf, and providing 25 acres of forage, habitat and outstanding beauty for wildlife & visitors.

Except.

Even though they probably weren’t.

Then, Americans tend to lash out in righteous fury….

“I don’t need to know the [insert expletive] “proper” [voice dripping with sarcasm] name for this [long pause] blue poppy, to grow it!”

…while the Brits rely on cold condescension.

“But you’re not growing it particularly well, are you?”

And the resentments build.

Influences from all over the world come together in the wildly beautiful gravel garden at Chanticleer Garden, PA.

Garden regionally. Inspire yourself globally.

Doing all this doesn’t make you a snob – it makes you smart. And it just might put you at the top of your regional game.

Marianne Willburn is an American garden columnist and author of the book Big Dreams, Small Garden. Read more at www.smalltowngardener.com

Photo credit for Monty Don. All other photos by the author.

[i]Neither the license nor the sentence actually exist, although they should.

[ii] C’mon Timber, seriously. What if Bloomsbury snaps us up?

[iii] Countries By Density Population. (2019-10-01). Retrieved 2019-10-09, from https://ift.tt/2BoQmQI

Garden regionally. Get inspired globally. originally appeared on GardenRant on October 16, 2019.

from GardenRant https://ift.tt/2VSx4fX

#GardenRant

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christina-mitchell · 5 years

Text

Average people think MONEY is the root of all evil