#red sails lettuce
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Sending y’all peace, fresh veggies and blessings in 2023 and beyond.
#tuscan kale#red sails lettuce#romaine lettuce#healthy soil#vermicomposting#compost#food security#atlanta urban ag#soil biodiversity#permaculture#biodynamic#food access
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Aphrodite And Venus deep dive, straight to the point
Herbs • anemone, daffodil, myrtle, lettuce , pomegranate, apple, rosemary fresh roses, vanilla, cinnamon, cypress, jasmine, the olive tree, narcissus, honeysuckle, the apple tree, the lime tree, Strawberries, Oranges, Pears, lotus
Animals• hare, turtle-dove, sparrow, goose, swan, horses, hummingbirds, cats, butterflies, bees, fish, hare.
Symbols• Hearts, Seashells, Mirror, Girdles, Dolphins, Doves, Swans, Sparrows, Bees, Sea Foam, Pomegranates, Apples, Strawberries, Oranges, Pears
Colors • pink & red, rose gold , blue, green, white, gold, baby blue, pastel colors, Seafoam green, Aqua
Appearance in astral or general • many ancient artworks of her, depicted her with traditionally male features, like beards, along with traditionally female features, she can change looks many times, but no matter her looks she is the most beautiful alive.
Crystal• rose quarts, garnet, pearls, diamond, sapphire, aquamarine, opal, sea glass, silver, emerald, rhodonite, rhodochrosite, ocean jasper, morganite
Jewelry • pearls, rose gold, promise rings, diamonds
epithets of Aphrodite•
Psytiros - whispering Aphrodite, epithet also is attributed to Eros, Euploia - a marine epithet to Aphrodite of easy sailing, fair voyage, Leaina -the Lioness, an epithet given to the Goddess by Athenian orator Democha, Praxis - Aphrodite of action, a statue to whom stood in the city of Megara, Peitho - as an epithet to Aphrodite, it describes Her a persuasive, Epiodoros - Aphrodite of bountiful gifts as She was titled by Greek poet Stesichoru, Argounis - shining Aphrodite, worshiped in Boeotia and likely associated with Dawn, Philomedes - Aphrodite of a lovely smile or smiling Aphrodite, Helikoblepharos - quick-glancing, or Aphrodite with an ever-moving eye, Polychrisou - rich in gold, rich in many golden gifts, Chrisopeplos - gold-clad, Aphrodite dressed in gold, Chrisostephanos - Aphrodite wearing a golden wreath, Chrisanios - Aphrodite holding golden rein as Her chariot was often said to be fully made of gold, Nikêphoros- She is the Warlike, Areia- She is the averter of unlawful desires and actions, Apostrophia- She is one who blessed marriage and unions, Migôntis- She is the one who turns to love, Ourania- Heavenly, Divine Love, Pandêmos- Common To All, Epistrophia - She who Turns to Love, Nympthia Hêrê - Of Hera of Marriage, Symmakhia- Ally in Love, Pontia - Of the Sea, Kypria - Of Cyprus, Pothon Mater - Mother of Desire, Chrysea- Golden, Aphrodite Urania (also spelt Ourania), Aphrodite Pandemos, Venus Genatrix, Peitho, - meaning persuasion, Philommeidḗs - "smile-loving", Cypris and Cythereia - for her association of Cyprus and Cythera, Eleemon, In Athens, she was known as Aphrodite in kopois ("Aphrodite of the Gardens”, At Cape Clias, a town along the Attic coast, she was venerated as Genetyllis "Mother", Aphrodite Euploia - of the fair voyage, Anaduomenê - The Goddess Who Arose From The Sea, Ambologêra - The Ons Who Delays Old Age, Antheia - The Blooming One / Friend Of Flowers , Apotrophia - The Expeller ( Of Shameful and Sinful Desire), Areia - The Warlike, Kupria/Kuprigeneia - The One Born in The Island Of Cyprus, Despoina - The Rulling Goddess/ The Mistress , Genetullis - The Protectress Of Births , Nikêphoros - Bringer Of Victory
Cult epithets • Ourania (heavenly) , Pandémos (common to all) , areia (of ares, warlike) , hòplismené (armed) , Symmakhia (ally in love)
Poetic epithets • Kypris ( of Cyprus) , philomeidês (laughter loving) , aphrogenia (foam born) khryseé (golden) Pothón Mêtêr (mother of desire)
Names• Venus, Aphrodite, Harthor, Astare, Priyah, inanna, isis, Freaya,
Mortal or immortal • immortal
Zodiac • Libra, taruas
How to get closer • sign her hymms or dance in her honor
Number• 5
Courting• Ares, she is no longer married.
Past lovers and flings • Anchises (a mortal in the past she dated), Adonis ( handsome young man killed by a boar (Ares in disguise), Dionysus, Zues (maybe), Hermes, Phaethon, Posideon, Butes, Apollon
Devine children • Phobos, Deimos, Harmonia, Eros, Anteros, pothos, hermaphrodios, (From the mortal Anchuses), Aeneas a mythical hero of Troy and Rome, and Lyrus/Lyrnus (From Butes), eryxs, Meligounis and several more unnamed daughters, Hymenajks, lacchus, priapus, the Charites, (graces: Aglaea, Euphrosyne, Thalia) (From Dionysus) Phobos, Deimos, Harmonia, The Erotes (Eros) , Anteros, Himeros , Pothos, from Ares, Hermaphroditos, Priapus, from Hermes, Rhodos from Posideon, Beroe, Golgos, Priapus (rarely) (from Adonis), Astynous from Phaethon, Priapus (from Zeus)
Attendees • The erotes, Harmonia, Hebe, peithos, the kharites , Naiades
Regions• Cyprus; Kytherea, Corinth, Eryx in Sicly
Holiest shrine• Paphos, island of Cyprus, (her birth place & seat of her mysteria)
Other shrines • Temples throughout Greece and Asia Minor and ur moms house. Some places, most notably Sparta, Thebes, and Cyprus honored her as a goddess of war.
Parents • Ouranos Sometimes it’s said that she is the daughter of Zeus and Dione. And born from the severed genitals of the primordial god Ouranos.
Siblings • Aeacus, Angelos, Apollo, Ares, Artemis, Athena, Dionysus, Eileithyia, Enyo, Eris, Ersa, Hebe, Helen of Troy, Hephaestus, Heracles, Hermes, Minos, Pandia, Persephone, Perseus, Rhadamanthus, the Graces, the Horae, the Litae, the Muses and the Moirai.
personality• she isn’t intimidating at first, she likes not having already used products on her alter if possible, a clean, nice smelling alter.
dislikes• She does not like Medusa, she wants nothing to do with her for some reason, just what I’ve heard from people who worshiped Aphrodite and Medusa in close timelines
Diety of • Sex, libido, self-image, self-love, relationships, friendships, parent love and pet love, crushes, lust, procreation, seduction, pleasure, happiness, sadness, passion, stalking, ports, port homes
Home• Olympus and was living in the sea before Olympus
Hate• Boars, pigs.
Likes• Faries, unicorns, butterflies, lacy & frilly things, music boxes, ballet, cars.
Roots• Greek, born near Paphos, on the island of Cyprus
Offerings • pastries, cakes, , olive branches, dark chocolate, wine, apples, perfume, makeup, Pomegranate: said to be first planted by Aphrodite herself, Strawberries, Raspberries, Blackberries, Figs, Watermelon, Sea shells, handheld mirrors/ beautifully ornate mirrors, makeup products, perfumes (sweet/sensual/seductive ones), skin/body care products, fruits, apples, lettuce, pomegranates, chocolates, sugar and cream, honey, wine (rosé or sweet-scented), sweetened rose tea, rose quartz, pearls, jewelry, roses, flower bouquets, statues of her sacred animals (ex- swans) , myrtle or myrrh incense, pink/gold/white candles, seawater, the artwork of her, devotional poems, self-care routines, ritual baths, have a rose garden that you can take care of in her name if possible, be supportive of women and the LGBTQ+ community. • olive oil, fruit, honey, chocolate, dark chocolate (she loves it) , Apples/golden apples, Mermaids, Jewelry, Cherries, Dolphins imagery, Perfumes, Cologne, Makeup, Combs, Affirmations/Affirmation Cards, Beach Sand, Sea imagery, Water, Love poems, Oyster shells, Pink Salt, Driftwood, Sea glass, Amenome/Roses/Carnations, Other flowers, Valentine's Day gifts, Teddy bears, Rose water, Eros/Cupid imagery, Cakes, (Dress up) Dolls, Chapstick/lipstick, Fishnets, Honey cakes, Undergarments, Hearts, Handheld fans, Pictures of loved ones, Condoms/lube(18+), Lingerie(18+), Undergarments(18+), Sex toys(18+), NSFW magazines/books/movie(18+) (AND I MEAN IT WHEN I SAY 18+, OR ASK HER!!), roses, Myrtles, Apples, Pomegranates, Honey, Chocolates, Cookies or cakes made to look like one of Her symbols (ex- hearts), Strawberries, Oranges, Pears, Bath Salts, Bath oils, Bubble bath soap, Scented lotions or fancy soaps
Devotional• light your favorite candle, put on your favorite lotion or perfume, put on your favorite piece of jewelry, put on your favorite article of clothing, enjoy a sweet treat, Sex magic, Glamour spells, Dressing up, acts of self care and acts of self- love, Caring for mental & physical health, Take a bubble bath,Spend time at the sea, Collect sea shells, Read Sappho poetry, Donate to LBGTQ+, Support sex workers, Have safe sex and learn about it, Stand up for yourself and what you believe in, Donate to woman programs and shelters, Do stuff to make ur self feel empowered and beautiful, Honor her kids and ares, watch a romcom, watch a regular romantic movie or show or read your favorite romantic story, Make plans with loved ones and friends or your lover in her honor, Treat yourself to something you enjoy, if you have a pet and they like to snuggle, snuggle or lay with them. Talk to them and tell them how much you love them (If able take them for a walk or a ride), listen to ocean/sea soundscapes, read up on all the many kinds of love, engage in an act of self-care, listen to love songs, listen to a devotional playlist for her, make a Pinterest board or playlist, or journal all of your favorite things and things that you love, learn about the different kinds of love, do things that boost your self esteem, be gentle with yourself, take it easy, etc, watch a ballet, read love poems, Dress up and selfies, Keep menstrual products on you (even if you don't bleed), Advocate for pro-choice, Give/accept compliments, Advocate for SA victims, Go on a date, Take yourself on a date, Do something nice for your partner, get a Manicure/pedicure, Flirt, Affirmations in the mirror, Drink wine, Advocate for proper sex ed (Including queer sex ed), Experiment with your style, Mirror scrying, Listen to sleep affirmations, Love letter to self/her/partner, Take a bath/shower,Go to the ocean/water, Finally give into that one kink (You know the one, 18+), do Masturbation in her honor (only 18+, I heard she’s not comfortable with minors doing it, but that’s between y’all, just ask her beforehand.), Practice safe sex (18+), Educate yourself on the porn industry, Support sex workers (TIP THEM, 18+), Have sex (18+), Get educated on consent/safe sex, Take nude/lewds (18+)
Holiday • on March 18, goddess of fertility day
Season• spring
Status• Olympian, major goddess
Music • Harry styles, Classical music, old love songs (50s & 60s)
Day• Friday
Planet• Venus
Tarot• High priestess, the lovers, the empress, the star
Rituals • honored and invoked for love and fertility and beauty
Festivals • Aphrodisa, kinyrades ( summer festival) adonia ( mourning for Adonis, woman only)
Fact• She was most worshiped during times of politics, Many people offered her Opiates, or did Opiates in her honor. opium-burners were often found at her shrines in ancient times, please do not do opium.
Prayer•
1• sing, sing, oh i sing to aphrodite who is most beautiful! she who stirs the passionof men & god alike! o, to she — i sing! golden goddess with soft lashes, golden goddess withsoft arms, i spin and sing and delight in the bright rose that is you. may i dance with your grace, lifted up as the foam from the sea as you were — may my smile be blessed with delight. golden-haired goddess, bless my tongue to be sweet as honey, bless my fingers to be delicate and swift, bless my steps so they may bound forth in soft beauty. glory to she — praise to she! goddess of ever golden smiles, of fierce beauty, of spilling laughter and delight. o! may i love as you love — may i delight as you delight! goddess, fill me with your beauty — may i shine & rise above the wrathful waters of those around me and delight, delight, delight in the glory that you have given to me!
2•Golden Aphrodite
Lady of beauty and grace, Please give me the power to appreciate my body, Grant me confidence in my masculinity, Help me to feel your love within myself, and to express it outwardly as well, Lady Aphrodite, please hear my prayer, I sing your praises and offer you this incense
3•Aphrodite, guide me towards love. Help me discover it, receive it, embrace it, give it, celebrate it, honor it, teach it, and live it. Let love be the mark I leave, as your devotee, as a human being.
4• Antheia
Hear to me my call for spring to have sprung,Oh, sweet one scented of honey and nectar. Hear my call Aphrodite Antheia,As I harken a need for the sweet bloom. I crave the beauty of the opening flower, The sweet taste of its nectar upon my lips. Ah Aphrodite Antheia, Bring to me the joy of the fresh blooms. Let the petals cascade upon my body, Allow me the joy of the sunshine. Oh sweet one, Oh Aphrodite Antheia. Bestow upon me and mine, The gifts of the flowers fair.
5•daughter of seafoam, goddess of beauty, aphrodite please hear my cries. please listen as i describe all the parts of me that are shattered & torn, please understand as i tell my stories of pain. aphrodite accept me please. aphrodite pick me up & help me mend myself for i am yours, thank you so much & so mote it be
6• Aphrodite rivals the beauty of the sun setting over an ocean's horizon as you stand on the shore, the water tickling your feet as it pulled in and pushed back out repeatedly by the waves.
Scents/Inscene • Rose, wine, fresh roses, Frankincesne, Myrrth, vanilla, cinnamon, cypress, jasmine, cherry blossom, lavender.
Other• images of things she’s associated with, jewelry, perfume, bath salts , scented lotion, seawater, seashells, sand, makeup, feathers, self care essentials.
Links/websites/sources
@khaire-traveler
ephemeral-cryptid.tumblr.com
@mars-and-the-theoi graffitiphilosopher.tumblr.com teawiththegods.tumblr.com
@seleniangnosis
@melitheoidevotion
@seafoamsister
evilios.tumblr.com hearthcreation.tumblr.com orsialos.tumblr.com
@hisfluer
Aphrodite is the goddess of our hearts, we all love her, and she has a great personality, and is beautiful in looks and soul.
#hellenic devotion#the gods#hellenic polytheism#doing the research for you#hellenic worship#aphrodite deity#aphrodite#greek pantheon#greek gods#hellenism#greek goddess#aphrodite speaks#aphrodite worship#aphrodite devotee#aphrodite goddess#Aphrodite#venus#ancient rome#roman empire#roman goddess#roman mythology#info#information#greek myths#greek posts#greek tumblr#greek mythology#ancient greek#percy jackson#The gods
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Sakana stepped off his bus, looking towards Mad’s gallery. It was once again time for him to do his least favorite part of being an artist. There was paperwork to be done. And Mad was very clear on doing it in person with him because after all, he couldn’t trust his own self to pore over details and mistakes without her.
He peered down the street, and sure enough, he could see the same cherry blossom girl with brown skin and coif in heart shaped pigtails reaching the sky sitting on the steps of Mad’s gallery. He asked Mad about her before, and she told him to leave her alone. She stated that this young girl was allowed to linger as long as she’d like, and she left it at that.
Sakana wasn’t a very good listener, however. He walked right up to her.
“Hey, it’s you again”
The younger floro looked up and down at the older one, twisting her face.
“Yeah, I guess. I’m here every day.”
“I think I figured that.” Sakana sat himself on the concrete step next to her, pulling a plastic bag out of his large purse. He produced from it a ham sandwich wrapped in yet more plastic. From its edges, tomato, lettuce, cheese, mayo, and slices of olives could be seen lining the insides of the fluffy white bread. “Wanna sandwich?” Sakana asked, waving it out of the bag.
“Huh?” Her face crinkled even more. “But that’s yours. I’ll be okay, thanks.”
“No, it’s yours. This is mine.” His left hand rummaged the plastic bag once more to reveal a second identical sandwich, just as appetizing as the last. Despite her refusal, the sight of both in one place had her stomach ebbing for them.
She wasn’t quite sold, however.
“You had one made just for me? Okay, so how do I know it’s not poisoned?”
Sakana scoffed and laughed at the same time, taken aback by the very idea. “Poisoned? Now why the hell would I poison some kid off the street, that’s fucked up!”
The girl turned her nose. “I’m 18. And I don’t know! What if you were trying to drug me and take me away some place, huh? How can I be sure you’re not actually plotting something with that sandwich?”
“Umm, honey, first of all, I wouldn’t lay a finger on you, mkay? You’re too precious and I’m too gay.”
She eyed him up and down, from his perfectly pruned and styled pink coif curling around his face and out off his head, sharp cat eyed and pollinated lashes, and the fragrance of his sweet, clean cherry musk perfume down to his designer blouse peeking from underneath the long coat he wore trimmed with iconic red and green stripes, cinched in the middle with a matching belt and branded buckle, all the way down to his shining green high heel pumps to finish the look.
“Clearly,” she remarked.
“Hey… Anyways, I thought I’d share with you. Take it, I know the streets aren’t making any sandwiches for you, kiddo.” Sakana handed her the sandwich in his right hand, picking at the plastic edges on the one left in his.
“It’s Pinku. And thanks, but how do I KNOW you didn’t do anything to this? Not that I don’t trust you, but… yeah I don’t know you.”
“Oh I know, I catch more flies with honey with how sweet I am. I made both of these the exact same way, side by side like twins. Actually, here. There’s only one way that I know of that will settle this.”
He motioned for her to give him the wrapped sandwich back to him, grabbing an orange from his bag. She did as he gestured, and he stood up, legs apart and arms to each side of his chest.
“Watch this!”
He tossed the orange up in the air, then the sandwiches, juggling all three with ease. Now THAT put a smile on Pinku’s face.
It was such a sight to see their lunch sailing through the air effortlessly, defying and abiding the forces of gravity, yet leaving the food unharmed through the show.
“Woah! You can do that?”
“There’s a lot of shit I can do, Pinku! Just watch!”
He tossed all three up into the air, catching them again and continuing to juggle them.
Sakana laughed, “Hey, I know I’m not supposed to play with my food, but you made me do it!”
Pinku couldn’t help but giggle. Was that joke even all that funny? She was certainly amused.
“Okay now, can you tell which sandwich was which anymore?”
She shook her head and cried out “No! I have no idea!”
Sakana caught all three items and handed her one sandwich, taking a bow as he did so.
“Then I say we have lunch, my lady.”
He sat back down to her right hand side, peeling the orange in a line down the middle as she worked the plastic off her sandwich, taking a big well earned bite.
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Have It What Way?
In the latest episode of “Why are they doing this?” we find yet another large corporation leveraging a tool just because they can. There is always so much danger in doing something just for the sake of doing it, as if being the first in your small company of peers will somehow set you apart. And in that blind ambition, it is easy to lose focus on what is really the most important part: the product itself.
Starring in this episode is Burger King, which was started in 1953 in Jacksonville Florida. Actually, it was originally called Instant Burger King, and the founders took their inspiration from McDonald’s and their original walk-up location in San Bernardino California. In a true case of burger envy, they set sail on the choppy waters of fast food with little more than a plan to sell burgers. It has not exactly been clear sailing since.
While the chain did try valiantly in the 70s to set itself apart from McDonald’s by allowing customization, something that always confuses the folks under the arches, it has never been enough to hold a candle to McDonald’s sales. Recent data report that BK sales were $10.278 billion in 2022 and good enough for third-place in the burger wars, while rival Wendy’s—which also allows for customization—held on to second with $11.694 billion. Together, though, the two are not even half of what McDonald’s sold, which was $48.734 billion.
“Have It Your Way” may have been catchy jingle back in 1974, but they’re still waiting for that ship to come in.
That fact alone tells me that customization, while it can lead to niche leadership, is not what the majority of fast food customers want. They actually crave the standardization that McDonald’s offers, and presumably fast. Customization automatically implies this might take a bit longer.
But never being one to allow reality to stop them, Burger King is launching the Million Dollar Whopper Contest, leaning on AI—this is the part I was alluding to at the beginning—and customer imagination to create three new limited edition Whoppers. One of those lucky three finalists will walk away with the money.
Here’s how it works. Using their app or a microsite accessed on a computer, users can hypothetically create a new Whopper variant using up to eight ingredients. The algorithm they are employing will generate imagery as well as a jingle that illustrate this concoction. There are some limitations—allergens, profanity, and inedible items—but otherwise the sky is the limit. The allergens part concerns me, though, because there are nine allergens the FDA considers worthy of all CPG firms being required to list on packages. So no peanuts on Whoppers, OK?
Bear in mind that these are all imaginary Whoppers, not something you can actually walk up and order. Imagine the difficulty each store would face trying to anticipate all the craziness a person might dream up. If a person wanted Hatch chiles, Vidalia onions, butter lettuce, and alfalfa sprouts (and this is only four of a possible eight ingredients) it would be tough to have these items on hand.
Basically, Burger King is crowdsourcing new Whopper varietals, under the guise of letting AI run and play with it, because—well—because AI. It’s shiny and buzzy. Why not? Everybody else is doing it, and so can they, even if it might not make a bit of difference.
While BK reports that about half of its customers do customize with the existing array of toppers, that means the other half are good with standardization as well. In my mind, I see a very small crowd wanting to actually make their own burger, at least at a fast food joint. If you want to get the full-on custom experience, you go to Shake Shack, Red Robin, or any of the other fast casual chains where sitting down to dine is part of the experience, not takeaway.
Perhaps instead of trying to be one of the cool kids on the block, or even the coolest, Burger King should focus on just making a good Whopper, for those who like fast food. I know from reading the socials here in Canyon that customers loathe our local BK, which often cannot round up enough staff to open on some days, much less serve lunch and dinner. When they do, the burgers are soulless and tasteless.
I don’t dine at fast food, but once upon a time, I did. I even remember being in a BK in 1963 when the manager came out and told us that John F. Kennedy had been shot. I also remember eating about 60 Whoppers in a competition with a pal my freshman year at university, which probably helps explain the “Freshman 20” I put on.
Burger King ownership has been passed around like a hot potato for many years, while its closest rivals Wendy’s and McDonald’s are owned by their shareholders. Fourth-place competitor Sonic is now part of Inspire Brands (think: Arby’s, Buffalo Wild Wings, Dunkin, Basking Robbins, and Jimmy Johns), but even it was with its founder for decades.
BK is the problem child that never quite figured out how to grow up, and using AI isn’t going to help it find its way.
Dr “Hold The Whopper, Please” Gerlich
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AeroGarden Salad Bar Seed Pod Kit (24-pod)
AeroGarden Salad Bar Seed Pod Kit (24-pod)
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PLANT TO PLATE – Harvest herbs…
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Chapter - 24
(Percy's POV)
I’d finally found something I was really good at.
The Queen Anne’s Revenge responded to my every command. I knew which ropes to hoist, which sails to raise, which direction to steer.
We plowed through the waves at what I figured was about ten knots.
I even understood how fast that was. For a sailing ship, pretty darn fast.
It all felt perfect-the wind in my face, the waves breaking over the prow.
But now that we were out of danger, all I could think about was how much I missed Tyson, & how worried I was about Grover.
I couldn’t get over how badly I’d messed up on Circe’s Island. If it hadn’t been for Annabeth, I’d still be a rodent, hiding in a hutch with a bunch of cute furry pirates. I thought about what Circe had said: See, Percy? You’ve unlocked your true self!
I still felt changed. Not just because I had a sudden desire to eat lettuce. I felt jumpy, like the instinct to be a scared little animal was now a part of me.
Or maybe it had always been there. That’s what really worried me.
We sailed through the night.
Annabeth tried to help me keep look out, but sailing didn’t agree with her.
After a few hours rocking back & forth, her face turned the color of guacamole & she went below to lie in a hammock, while Nora stayed sitting on the floor across from where I was, seemingly lost in thought.
I watched the horizon. More than once I spotted monsters. A plume of water as tall as a skyscraper spewed into the moonlight. A row of green spines slithered across the waves-something maybe a hundred feet long, reptilian.
I didn’t really want to know.
Once I saw Nereids, the glowing lady spirits of the sea. I tried to wave at them, but they disappeared into the depths, leaving me unsure whether they’d seen me or not.
Sometime after midnight, Annabeth came up on deck. We were passing a smoking volcano island.
The sea bubbled & steamed around the shore.
“One of the forges of Hephaestus,” Nora said suddenly. “Where he makes his metal monsters.”
“Like the bronze bulls?” I asked.
She nodded. “Go around. Far around.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. We steered clear of the island, & soon it was just a red patch of haze behind us.
I looked over at Annabeth. “The reason you hate Cyclopes so much...the story about how Thalia really died. What happened?”
It was hard to see her expression in the dark. I notice Nora looking over at us but she quickly looked away without saying anything.
“I guess you deserve to know,” Annabeth said finally. “The night Grover was escorting us to camp, he got confused, took some wrong turns. You remember he told you that once?”
I nodded.
“Well, the worst wrong turn was into a Cyclops’s lair in Brooklyn.”
“They’ve got Cyclopes in Brooklyn?” I asked.
“You wouldn’t believe how many, but that’s not the point. This Cyclops, he tricked us. He managed to split us up inside this maze of corridors in an old house in Flatbush. And he could sound like anyone, Percy. Just the way Tyson did aboard the Princess Andromeda. He lured us, one at a time. Thalia thought she was running to save Luke. Luke thought he heard me scream for help. And me...I was alone in the dark. I was seven years old. I couldn’t even find the exit.”
She brushed the hair out of her face.
“I remember finding the main room. There were bones all over the floor. And there were Thalia, Luke & Grover, tied up & gagged, hanging from the ceiling like smoked hams. The Cyclops was starting a fire in the middle of the floor. I drew my knife, but he heard me. He turned & smiled. He spoke, & somehow he knew my dad’s voice. I guess he just plucked it out of my mind. He said, ‘Now, Annabeth, don’t you worry. I love you. You can stay here with me. Forever.’”
I shivered. The way she told it-even now, six years later-freaked me out worse than any ghost story I’d ever heard.
“What did you do?”
“I stabbed him in the foot.”
I stared at her. “Are you kidding? You were seven years old and you stabbed a grown Cyclops in the foot?”
“Oh, he would’ve killed me. But I surprised him. It gave me just enough time to run to Thalia & cut the ropes on her hands. She took it from there.”
“Yeah, but still...that was pretty brave, Annabeth.”
She shook her head. “We barely got out alive. I still have nightmares, Percy. The way that Cyclops talked in my father’s voice. It was his fault we took so long getting to camp. All the monsters who’d been chasing us had time to catch up. That’s really why Thalia died. If it hadn’t been for that Cyclops, she’d still be alive today.”
We sat on the deck, watching the Hercules constellation rise in the night sky.
“Go below,” Annabeth told me at last. “You need some rest.”
I nodded. My eyes were heavy. But when I got below & found a hammock, it took me a long time to fall asleep.
I kept thinking about Annabeth’s story. I wondered, if I were her, would I have had enough courage to go on this quest, to sail straight toward the lair of another Cyclops?
I also wondered how horrible it must've been for Nora. Coming to camp a few months later only to find out that her sister was dead...
I didn’t dream about Grover.
Instead I found myself back in Luke’s stateroom aboard the Princess Andromeda. The curtains were open. It was nighttime outside.
The air swirled with shadows. Voices whispered all around me-spirits of the dead.
Beware, they whispered. Traps. Trickery.
Kronos’s golden sarcophagus glowed faintly-the only source of light in the room.
A cold laugh startled me. It seemed to come from miles below the ship. You don’t have the courage, young one. You can’t stop me.
I knew what I had to do. I had to open that coffin.
I uncapped Riptide. Ghosts whirled around me like a tornado. Beware!
My heart pounded. I couldn’t make my feet move, but I had to stop Kronos.
I had to destroy whatever was in that box.
Then a girl spoke right next to me: “Well, Seaweed Brain?”
I looked over, expecting to see Annabeth, but the girl wasn’t Annabeth.
She wore punk-style clothes with silver chains on her wrists. She had spiky black hair, dark eyeliner around her stormy blue eyes which looked strangely similar to Nora's & a spray of freckles across her nose. She looked familiar, but I wasn’t sure why.
“Well?” she asked. “Are we going to stop him or not?”
I couldn’t answer. I couldn’t move.
The girl rolled her eyes. “Fine. Leave it to me & Aegis.”
She tapped her wrist & her silver chains transformed-flattening & expanding into a huge shield.
It was silver & bronze, with the monstrous face of Medusa protruding from the center.
It looked like a death mask, as if the gorgon’s real head had been pressed into the metal.
I didn’t know if that was true, or if the shield could really petrify me, but I looked away. Just being near it made me cold with fear.
I got a feeling that in a real fight, the bearer of that shield would be almost impossible to beat.
Any sane enemy would turn & run.
The girl drew her sword & advanced on the sarcophagus. The shadowy ghosts parted for her, scattering before the terrible aura of her shield.
“No,” I tried to warn her.
But she didn’t listen. She marched straight up to the sarcophagus & pushed aside the golden lid.
For a moment she stood there, gazing down at whatever was in the box.
The coffin began to glow.
“No.” The girl’s voice trembled. “It can’t be.”
From the depths of the ocean, Kronos laughed so loudly the whole ship trembled.
“No!” The girl screamed as the sarcophagus engulfed her in a blast of a golden light.
🙂...no words needed here..
Link to the next chapter is here.
Link to the prev chapter is here.
Comment, like & share.
Take care my lovely readers.❤️
Alice signing off.
XOXO.
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Hello, it’s been a while! So let me bring you up to date. I spent 4 weeks in the hospital and was allowed home on 2 June, I was so relieved to be going home but all wasn’t plain sailing. Being a Friday mid morning when it was confirmed, there were no taxis available to collect me. I was asked if a friend could pick me up but a 70 mile round trip wasn’t something I would have liked to do, however, when I rang a friend she straight away said she would pick me up. Then I was being badgered, what time would I be leaving my room……. for heavens sake I had no idea what time my friend had left home! Anyway when she appeared I just burst into tears. That was over a week ago and I would like to say that I have been well since I got back……. I was for three days but after an injection on Monday I suffered for the next three plus days, honestly it’s only today that I feel anywhere near better and guess what …….. another injection is due tomorrow 😩. Then I am back into hospital on the 13th possibly for three or four nights for my next round of treatment 😊.
So to yesterday, “The Trainee Solicitor” arrived with his girlfriend. Although I won’t have a huge amount of time with them it is lovely for them to be here. We have all enjoyed being in the garden today (although I was clearing dead flowers for the composter). They are looking forward to a relaxing time (and as we are all either absorbed in books (or me typing this) it is great.
It has been a hectic and stressful time for them both, as “ The Trainee Solicitor” was best man at his friends wedding on Wednesday, he was back at work on Friday then on an early flight to me on Saturday.
I haven’t driven my car (no good if you need to be near home all the time) but this morning I drove it out of the garage. Was confused because I couldn’t really see through the rear view mirror and I felt as if I just had my nose above the steering wheel, now why was that I asked my son and his reply really surprised me “ it’s because you have lost so much weight Mum and it’s gone from your buttocks too” well that would explain it I suppose.
We are now experiencing an orage, we are battened down but wow it’s exciting. Something has toppled onto the patio but at the moment we are not investigating.
“The Daddy” has been to the Lake District for an overnight stay in his “tent box”. It has proven to be a very useful addition to his car and it means that he can be “free as a bird” just for a night if he wants to be which is a great feeling.
Life throws us lots of curved balls, as my sons and I have experienced this year, but you just have to “square those shoulders “ and get on with it. Nobody said life would be easy and we understand that.
So no poem today mainly because I haven’t looked for one. With any luck “normal service” will resume next week.
Oh I forgot to mention my garden, pea pods aplenty are on the pea plants and the broad beans are getting pods on. I had bolted radish and rocket (not tasty), lettuce has grown well and the beetroot is coming on. The three tomato plants were looking a bit “sad “ but I have been talking to them and with any luck we will have lovely juicy red tomatoes later in the year. I missed my garden and am just so happy to have been home and seen how well the produce has done without me. My strawberry plants yielded 6 strawberries the other day, they were delicious.
Have a great week until next week.
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Picture this…you’re sitting relaxing in a little outdoors taverna somewhere on a sundrenched Greek island overlooking the glinting Aegean, surrounded by whitewashed houses and their cobalt blue roofs, with a lutist strumming faintly in the background. Sounds quite lovely, right? While we can’t guarantee you a seat on the next flight to Athens, we can recommend the perfect summer dish that will at least transport your taste buds to this magical setting and provide you with the bulk of its ingredients!
A traditional Greek salad (or “horiatiki” salad which means village or peasant salad in Greek) is the ideal combination of summer ingredients that could practically stand alone as its own food group given its nutrient-dense content. Unlike many Americanized versions, Greek salad does not contain any lettuce, as lettuce only grows during the winter months in Greece. Rather, authentically seasonal Greek salad is a mixture of roughly cut tomato, cucumber, green bell pepper, onion and Kalamata olives tossed in red wine vinegar and olive oil, sprinkled with a little sea salt and oregano and topped with feta cheese.
While many assume that Greeks have been consuming their eponymous salad since ancient times, it is actually a relatively modern creation. Tomatoes, which are native to the Americas, were only introduced to the shores of Southern Europe back in the early 16th century when Spanish conquistadores sailed home with some tomato seeds onboard. It’s hard to think of Mediterranean cuisine without its stalwart tomato, but it was not an integral part of the food culture until only a few centuries ago!
The Greek salad as we know it today was born during the country’s tourism boom of the 1960s and 70s. During that period, business-savvy taverna owners circumvented the government’s fixed prices on ‘simple salads’ by putting a block of feta on top which allowed them to charge whatever they wanted. Given its simple preparation requirements and ease of access to its ingredients, the Greek salad has since become a widespread and familiar household staple both at home and abroad.
My first encounter with a true Greek salad was as a student traveling across Europe on spring break during a study-abroad semester in the south of France. A group of American friends and I used our Eurorail passes to trek down to the southern Italian port of Brindisi, where we hopped onto a crowded overnight ferry and sailed over to Patras on the Greek mainland. We then caught another ferry headed to the island of Santorini. The latter leg of our journey deposited us onto a beach in the wee evening hours where, in a famished state, we sought out the nearest open taverna.
The Greek salad that I ordered for dinner that night was truly transformational. It was unceremoniously plopped in front of me alongside a stack of warmed pita bread and came topped with an enormous slab of fresh feta. I couldn’t believe the size of the feta block, but once I broke it up into the salad with my fork, it added just the right amount of salty, creamy goodness. I’ve had a love affair with Greek salads ever since that first encounter, and they are something I eagerly anticipate come the arrival of mid-summer.
Not only do Greek salads make the ideal healthy, light summer meal, they are simple, quick and easy to prepare. As we enter peak tomato season towards the end of this month, you’ll be able to find the majority of necessary ingredients at many Down to Earth Farmers Markets. Our larger markets usually feature revolving small-batch Greek (and Californian!) olive oil and vinegar producers, and our pickle vendors typically carry an array of olives. Some of our local cheese purveyors sell fresh feta, and, by August, our farmstalls are brimming with sun-ripened tomatoes, cucumbers, onions and peppers. And be sure to pick up some bread to sop up the delicious juices with while you’re in the market – it’s one of the best parts of the Greek salad experience!
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Here is an example of the importance of succession cropping. Keep a steady supply of produce by planting something every 14 days...
#red sails#romaine lettuce#red sails lettuce#lettuce#compost#soil food web#atlanta urban ag#succession cropping#steady supply#continual harvest#the simple life#biodiversity#biodynamics#permaculture#food sovereignty#food systems#soil health#soil moisture#soil creation#Aglanta Grown
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Set
Egyptian god of chaos, mischief, storms, deserts, battle, danger, virility, and foreign lands
Set (or Sutekh), though often called a “god of evil” was not always viewed that way and actually played quite a benevolent role despite his chaotic nature. He was one of the sons of Nuit and Geb and was thought to have several wives, including the goddesses Nephthys, Neith, Taweret, Anat, and Astarte (with the latter two being taken from Canaan). Set was usually depicted as a man with the head of an unidentified jackal-like animal with square ears. Although there are many theories of what the animal could possibly be, it is also likely that the animal is meant to be unknown, as Set’s domain includes aspects of the strange and terrifying.
Associations: Some of Set’s associated animals include: the hippopotamus, crocodiles, scorpions, snapping turtles, wild pigs, and donkeys – all of which were considered dangerous. In his hands, he holds an ankh (symbol of life) and his scepter. He may also be portrayed as a man with red hair and wearing a red mantle. The colour red is significant due to it representing some of the many qualities of Set. In Ancient Egypt, red was the colour of life, strength, victory, hostility, and chaos. He was said to reside in the Great Bear constellation in the northern sky – an area which symbolized death and darkness. Despite his benevolence, he is a very complex god who can be terrifying, especially to those who anger him. He represents the chaotic sides of nature that brings change, including storms (as well as sandstorms), drought, battle, and the unknown.
Epithets: Set was known to be a fierce protector, especially in battle where he was often invoked as a vanguard. Some of this god’s known epithets include: “Great of Strength”, “The Inebriated One”, “Lord of the Northern Sky”, “The Red Lord”, “He Before Whom the Sky Trembles”, “The Defender”, and “Lord of the Desert”.
Set’s Roles: Among the roles of Set besides protecting his people in battle was an even greater role: the protection of Ra and all of humanity. As the Sun god Ra would sail his course across the sky on his golden ship, Set would accompany him and was the one to fight off Apep, the serpent of evil. Apep was shown as a spirit in the form of a giant red snake and was the embodiment of all corruption. According to myth, Apep would hypnotize Ra and all of his followers, except for Set, who was chaotic and powerful enough to combat him. In order to defend all of creation and ma’at (order), Set would vanquish Apep each day. Set was also known to be a friend of the dead, helping their souls to ascend the ladder to the heavens. He even held the role of preserving the oases in the desert, which were essential for life in Egypt. So not only would Set represent the chaotic forces of the desert, but he would also protect people and their oases from them; holding back the sandstorms and droughts from civilization. From this, we can see that Set was a powerful ally to all, including the gods.
Myths: Despite Set being a protective god, political battles in Ancient Egypt caused him to eventually be portrayed differently. When a war broke out between Upper and Lower Egypt, the two patrons of the lands (Horus and Set) were depicted in a myth which represented the battle. This was the myth of Horus and Set both fighting for the throne. With Lower Egypt being the victor, Set was gradually cast away and held in contempt; many relics of his benevolence were eventually destroyed. Set also plays a role in the well-known myth of tricking and slaying his brother Osiris, in order to usurp his throne. However, Isis managed to resurrect Osiris and conceived a child with him, the god Horus. While in most versions of the myth, the story follows that Horus grows up to be a mighty warrior and defeats Set in battle, after which he banishes him to the desert. But in another version, the majority of the nine gods (the Ennead) decided that Horus was the rightful King due to being the son of Osiris. But Ra believed that Horus was too inexperienced to rule, and claimed that Set would make a more capable King. This trial went on for nearly one hundred years while the people of Egypt suffered under Set's chaotic reign.
Isis was worried for the well-being of Egypt’s people, and so came up with a plan. She took on the guise of a young woman and sat down outside of Set's palace, where she wept terribly. Eventually Set passed by and stopped to ask her what was wrong. The disguised Isis told him of a cruel man, her husband’s own brother, who had murdered him and stolen away her family’s land and cattle, taken away her son’s inheritance, and that now the man sought to kill her son. Not knowing that the man described was himself, Set became deeply moved by the story and was furious. He swore to the young woman that he would seek out the cruel man who had done such things and would kill him, allowing her to regain her land. With this promise, Isis revealed herself to Set before the gods who were secretly listening, and so Set was cast away into the desert, allowing Horus to reign as King.
In a separate myth describing a battle between Horus and Set, the two gods are wrestling naked in a swamp, where Set eventually appears to have a “mighty erection”. This causes Horus to fall face forward into the waters, causing Set to begin having intercourse with him, which they both greatly seem to enjoy. In another attempt to seduce Horus, Set invites him over to his place to eat and sleep together. The two gods get drunk on wine late that night and caress one another, then have sex once again. Horus manages to catch Set’s seed in his hands, which he keeps until he is able to throw it into the Nile. Unaware of this, the drunken Set falls asleep. Horus lets Isis know of what had happened and she is furious, she then has Horus hide his own seed within the lettuce that Set grows so that he will consume it. Due to this, Horus gains the upper-hand over Set.
Personality: Set is a very ancient god who can be called upon for things such as granting strength, courage, protection, vengeance, victory, and confidence. In my experiences with Set, he is very outgoing, flamboyant, generous, protective, and fun-loving. He loves high-energy environments, pranks, and sex (especially sex). Though in times of battle, Set is a very powerful warrior and wields a mace made of meteorites. He is not cruel like how his later myths portrayed him, for in truth, Set is a very strong and loyal ally. Especially when fighting against Apep, the god of evil. Set is also one of the close allies to Lucifer, and fights alongside him to defend others and end corruptions. Though other than battling, Set usually can be found seducing women or just enjoying himself in general. He has a wonderful sense of humour and is a great amount of fun to be around. As he is a ruler of discord, he is able to calm such matters in your life as well and help you to confront them. In my experiences, Set appears as a young man with red hair and green eyes. He also states that the animal he is depicted as in Egypt is indeed an otherworldly creature, as that suits him best.
Every god has a Shadow aspect, which portrays all of their darker natures. For Set, this aspect is named Sutekh, and it is his chaotic destructive side. While Set is normally friendly with others, he as Sutekh is more intimidating and unpredictable. When angered, Set becomes as Sutekh, and is capable of creating great turmoil and madness in the lives of those who offend him.
| Offerings |
Stout beer, whiskey, frothing wine, champagne, sweet red wine, spicy foods, red meats, lettuce wraps, burgers, tacos, lobsters, crabs, shrimp, arrowheads, maces (his favourite weapons), knives and daggers, red rust, spinach, courgetti, cucumbers, coyote pelts, red carnelian, rubies, dried scorpions, star anise, black peppercorns, black silk, bird eggs, red thorns, sour cherries, red grapefruits, red grapes, dark chocolate, sweets, and brightly-coloured sex toys. He also tends to loves shiny and obnoxious sorts of things.
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honesty and promise me part 6 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]
Ah, the age old question: what to get for the guy who has everything and also when you’re trying make up for the fact that you actually missed his birthday entirely while spending as little money as possible?
“Where the hell are you taking me?” Percy asks as they wait their turn to disembark. “I haven’t been to Staten Island in ages.”
Annabeth has never been at all. She knows there’s a handful of Greek revival buildings in the Historic District, but she’s never had a car to get there, or the stomach to get on the ferry. Percy had practically climbed onto the bow, his own personal reenactment of Titanic, arms thrown out to the wind, while Annabeth attempted to keep her breakfast down.
Having spectacularly flamed out last week in Philadelphia, she can’t let Percy’s birthday go without some sort of commemoration. The Staten Island Ferry is just part one. “All in due time,” she says, checking her phone for directions. They still have a bus they need to board, and Annabeth is getting sweaty in her leather jacket. Thank God Percy volunteered to carry the backpack with all their gear; otherwise, when this jacket comes off, it’s going to smell worse than his tights at the end of a long day.
Like a magnet, his gaze is glued to the strips of the bay he can spot through the bus windows, his head resting on his chin, a soft, serene smile lifting his lips. All the tightness, all the stress he’s held in his shoulders the last few times she’s seen him, it melts away at the sharp, salty tang of rust and sea air which suffuses every corner. She doesn’t even mind that he isn’t looking at her.
Hand in hand, finally, they get off the bus, and walk to the overlook. Slinging the backpack off his shoulder, he sets it down at his feet, eyes fixed on the strip of shoreline which can be seen, even all the way over here. “What is that?” he breathes, shielding his eyes against the glint of the sun on the water.
“That,” says Annabeth, “is the Staten Island ship graveyard.”
Still stewing in her guilt over how she missed his birthday--despite the fact that he didn’t even tell her--Annabeth decided to swallow her pride and ask for help. It took an inordinate number of coffee orders and one instance of her actually getting down on her knees and begging, pleading to their long friendship together and swearing that Annabeth would never use this information for evil, but she had finally wheedled the secret out of Thalia: Percy’s greatest love, after the ballet, was sailing. Ship construction, naval battles, maritime history, they were, according to Thalia, the only things which could entice Percy to actually set down the tights and “get some frickin’ sunshine for once in his life.” Annabeth hadn’t believed her, until Thalia had dug up an old photo which had never been posted to his socials--and Annabeth had certainly scoured them for long enough, she would have recognized it had she seen it before--of Percy, on a glittering, jewel-like sea, a rope wrapped around his fist as he leaned over the side of a sailboat, eyes squeezed shut, mouth wide in a graceless, unrestrained joy.
“Back in the eighties, there used to be over four hundred ships down there,” Annabeth says, coming up beside him. “A lot of it’s been scrapped or sold, but there are still maybe a hundred or so boats, including the USS PC-1264, one of the--”
“One of the two predominantly African American crewed Navy ships from World War II,” he interrupts, eyes light. “No way!”
“Yes way,” Annabeth grins, unzipping her jacket. The midday sun beats down on them, the air sticky and heavy, and she needs this thing off, pronto. “And, there’s a ship that was supposedly the command post for the General Slocum disaster.” Not that she really knows what that is.
He whirls around. “The Abram S. Hewitt is there? Holy sh--”
His jaw drops. His eyes bug out.
Part two of his present was the ship graveyard. Part three is the outfit.
Annabeth, one hand on her hip, slings her jacket over her shoulder with the other, the leather hot against her bare skin. She has chosen to forgo a shirt entirely, wearing nothing but her nicest pair of black jeans with the thick suspenders and a shiny, red bra. And yes, she had Thalia touch up her hair, five inches of curls lopped off on one side, undercut sharp and severe.
“I thought we could have a picnic here,” she says, a smile curling her lips without her permission. “Then, if you want, we could do some light trespassing? See the ships up close?”
Percy swallows. He breathes in through his nose, shuddering. “Sure,” he whispers, hoarse. “Sounds good.”
Dropping to the ground like a rock, studiously not checking her out, Percy unpacks their picnic, laying out the blanket, something blue, old, but soft Annabeth had knitted in a fit of pre-finals’ anxiety in college. Annabeth had hinted the night before that he should make them some food, as no one could make a grilled cheese like Percy, and she sure as shit wasn’t going to buy them some prepackaged, tasteless garbage.
Percy’s sandwiches, just like the man himself, are stacked: thick, sourdough slices (which she suspects he made himself), bacon, turkey, apple, tomato, lettuce, avocado, mayo for her but none for him. She’d always been under the impression that dancers needed to watch what they ate, endlessly in pursuit of some unattainable ideal of beauty. Nope. Percy eats everything and anything he can get his hands on, high carb and high protein and high everything else. It makes sense, she guesses, for someone who basically has to bench their own body weight daily. Every inch of him is tailored for power and velocity, to propel him out of the grasp of gravity--rabbit food just isn’t going to cut it here.
Munching down, he maneuvers himself into a number of splits and stretches, unable to give up his routine for a single day. “When I was probably thirteen or fourteen,” he says, halfway through a tirade of reminiscence, “my dad took me and Triton and Kym to Cyprus, for some family bonding time.” He rolls his eyes. “You can probably imagine how well that went. Most of that trip was… well, Cyprus was definitely the best part. We went to Kyrenia Castle, which has this amazing museum that holds one of the oldest known ships in the world. Like, this thing was operational during the lifetime of Alexander the Great, and it sank about a mile away from the harbor.” He takes a heroic bite, chewing with his lips firmly shut.
“Cool.”
He swallows. “Very cool. I love really old ships, but you can imagine how few of those are still left, and not just because we haven’t found them.”
Annabeth feels her neck heating up, despite the shade they sit in. “Well, I hope these ones are old enough for you.”
“Oh, these are incredible--don’t get me wrong! I had no idea there was anything like this so close to home. Who needs Cyprus when you have Staten Island?” He grins, placing his sandwich down, throwing his arms in a stretch.
“I know it isn’t Tokyo or Moscow or anything…” she trails off, self-conscious even as she doesn’t actually ask the question that’s on her mind.
Shamefully, she has found that she still thinks about what Will had said at his apartment over a month ago at this point: Percy Jackson, boy toy of the rich and famous. But if she actually asks, it will make her look like some totally jealous girlfriend or something, like she honestly cares about Percy’s past sexual conquests.
She doesn’t care. She doesn’t.
He’s just led a really interesting life, and she wishes she could relate. That’s all.
“It’s not,” he agrees, bending his back with an audible pop. “It’s better.”
“Really? A little ship graveyard is better than the sites of Tokyo?”
“I didn’t see any sites in Tokyo,” he said. “Mostly just Mittie’s hotel room.”
“Mittie?”
Percy looks at his sandwich, suddenly very interested in the crust.
“She’s someone important, then?”
Silence.
Annabeth laughs to break the tension. “Okay, I'll bite--who’s Mittie? Another model?”
Taking a small bite of sandwich, he chews, methodical and deliberate. He swallows, clearing his throat. “Margherita Savoy.”
The name doesn’t ring a bell. “Who?”
“Princess Margherita Elisabetta of Sardinia.”
Her mouth drops open a little. “A princess?”
Percy shrugs. “Technically. The throne of Sardinia doesn’t exist anymore, obviously, but she’s big into the money and the titles and stuff.”
A princess. A fucking princess. “But she lets you call her Mittie.”
He looks a little constipated. “She didn’t… until she took me to Tokyo.”
“Oh,” she says. Because what else is there to say? She’s certainly no princess.
“She was nice,” Percy says, softly. “You know, eventually. Once we got to know each other.”
Her phone is hot in her pocket, like it’s preemptively searching Google for pictures of Margherita Elisabetta of Sardinia, downloading them all so Annabeth can scribble all over her face like a bad high school movie. “A pretender?” She scoffs, exaggeratedly, her fists tight against the grass. “Talk to me when you get a real princess.”
His ears go red. “Um…”
No way. “No fucking way.”
“Look, Eugenie was just kinda pissed when Triton broke up with her, and so she just thought that we’d have some fun.”
“Oh my god.” She says, looking at him in something like horror. And telling herself at least it wasn’t her distant cousin Madeleine.
“It was only for like a week or two,” Percy protests. “We went to a club in Berlin she knew Triton liked to go to so he would see us and get annoyed.”
“A princess dated you because she was pissed at your brother?”
“Only twice,” he says, casual, like any of this is normal and not absolutely insane. “Eleonore is one of Kym’s friends. And she’s technically, like, an archduchess, not a princess. But I don’t know. A couple of his other girlfriends wanted to get back at him, and I was in Europe and available, so we just…” He trails off. She can hear the ellipsis, hanging hot and heavy over them, each dot dropping like a stone. What is this, fucking Mamma Mia?
“When was the last time this happened?” she asks, not really wanting to hear the answer.
He rubs a hand over his mouth, gaze unfocused as he thinks. “Um… not since the week after Frank left, I think. Mittie wanted to go to Bora Bora but she didn’t want to go alone, you know?”
“No, I meant,” she pushes through as her stomach flutters, tight and uncomfortable, “girls using you to get back at your brother.”
His face falls, just a bit. “Oh. Last year, I guess.”
“Who was she?” And where is she so Annabeth can punt her off a building?
“Calypso Atlas.” He sighs, wistful, with more reverence than he had given any of the princesses, and Annabeth’s stomach flops, different from the flutter. Painful this time. “She actually liked me.”
“Everyone likes you,” she says, faintly. Maybe wearing the leather jacket is giving her heatstroke.
“You know, they really don’t. Not how it counts, anyway.” He picks at a blade of grass, rubbing it between his fingers. “Most of the girls who wanted to use me to get back at Triton only did it because they knew how much he liked to bitch about me--the ‘half-breed bastard.’” He rolls his eyes, huffs a laugh. “And even Kym’s friends didn’t actually like me. Like, yeah, they’d fly me all over with them, but they didn’t want to be seen with me. Mittie and I were on and off for years, and she gets photographed constantly. I’m not in any of them.”
Annabeth thinks she might actually be sick.
But he doesn’t stop. “It wasn’t so bad when they went around saying that I was a dancer with the Paris Opera, because I was, and I was proud of it. But it wasn’t… I don’t know. It wasn’t like with Frank, whose family does have a ton of money, but who only ever dated me because he liked me.” He picks another blade of grass, tearing it between his fingers. “Calypso, though. She was different.” And he smiles, a little.
“How?”
That smile grows wider. “She just called me one day, out of the blue, and very publicly asked me to be her date to Milan Fashion Week after she and Triton broke up and he immediately turned around and got engaged. She was super up front about it, didn’t try to sleep with me or anything, even though I know she was friends with some people and probably heard about my various talents.”
She knows exactly which talents he means. He winks at Annabeth, ironic and self-conscious, and she forces out a little laugh, as though the idea of him going down on someone else is charming.
“But then we actually had a good time together, and a few weeks later, she called me up again, and again, and again, until eventually she introduced me to her father--which was a hell of an experience, let me tell you. The Atlas family puts the Olympianides family to shame as far as dysfunction goes. But it was nice, in its own way; if I’d ever asked Mittie to introduce me to her dad, she’d have laughed in my face.”
“Sounds like you were pretty serious,” Annabeth manages.
“That was the problem.” He looks away, towards the sea. Always towards the sea. “She wanted to leave Paris, travel the world. And she wanted me to go with her.”
“To leave the Paris Opera?”
“To leave ballet entirely. I just…” He holds the silence for a moment, lost in the fog of reminiscence, the mist of possible futures long since dissipated. Sighing, he shakes his head. “I couldn’t do it. So, in March, she went to Dubai, and I started making calls back to New York.”
“You broke up with her this year?”
“She broke up with me,” he clarifies, turning back to her. “It was all very romantic. I always left my comp at the box office for her. She didn’t come to my show, but she showed up at the stage door the day before she was set to leave, telling me that she had an extra ticket with my name on it. I turned her down.” And then he looks her in the eye as he says, “I don’t regret it at all.”
She swallows, her face flushing, tongue numb as she searches desperately for something to say to that. “Atlas, you said her family was? It sounds familiar.”
“Oh, you’re probably thinking of Zoe Atlas,” Percy says, easing off for the moment. “You probably know about her because she and Thalia were archenemies in boarding school. Or maybe girlfriends? I have yet to get a straight answer.” Annabeth’s eyes nearly bug out of her head. Thalia, in boarding school? What? “But I like Zoe. She’s an activist, and absolutely hates her father. Like I said, there’s a lot of dysfunction. And she came to my first show way back when, and she wasn’t even weird when I dated her sister when we ran into each other in Paris. So that was nice.”
“She went to your first show?” What in God’s name is up with these one-percenter families? It’s like they all overlap in one big incestuous slurry. And as the daughter of the Chases and the Pallases, she tries not to think where she might fit into that.
“Thalia brought her. Her first not-date. It was Thalia’s first ballet ever, too. It… it meant a lot.”
“What show was it?”
He smiles, wistful. “The Nutcracker. I was one of the kids at Clara’s party. Most scared I’ve ever been. When I got out backstage after intermission, Thalia was waiting for me with my mom. She punched my shoulder, called me ‘Kelp Head,’ and told me I did great. Then I hugged her,” he says, snickering. “She punched me again.”
Annabeth laughs, huffing through her nose. “Good to see some things never change.”
“That’s our Thalia for you--looking out for everyone, even when it kills her inside.” He glances at her pointedly.
It’s her turn to share.
Annabeth’s mouth is dry, like sandpaper.
She grabs her backpack, pulling out a sketchbook and a pencil. Beside her, Percy sighs, deflating a little.
Annabeth flips open a new page, and starts drawing.
Each sketch delivers a challenge: bringing order to the whole through design, composition, tension, balance, light and harmony. Sometimes, buildings spring to life on the page, fully formed. Sometimes the page stays blank, an empty pencil.
Pencil to paper. Letting whatever wants to come out, come out. “My mom invited me to lunch one day,” she says. Her eyes follow the line of her pencil, ninety degree angles and symmetrical shapes. “I had moved to New York like six months before. Single girl, in the big city, to follow her dreams.” She’d gone to boarding school in New York before that, but it wasn’t the same as picking out her apartment and taking the train to the Manhattan skyscraper her office was held in. Sometimes she’d walk down the street, feeling like she was smack dab in the middle of Sex and the City, which she and Piper use to watch in secret, huddled under the covers in the dorms at Miss Minerva’s. “Unfortunately, my mom didn’t love my dreams.”
“She didn’t approve of anarchist architecture?”
Annabeth’s laugh is hollow. “She thought I should have been charting some new path in business for a woman. But not in a feminist way. In, like, a capitalist way. But architecture was not really negotiable for me. And once that became clear, she had her own expectations about that, too.”
Annabeth has always been a prideful know-it-all. If all her mother had wanted from her was ambition, they probably could have made it work. Annabeth wanted to reshape the skyline, she wanted her name on buildings that would last and impress.
But even Annabeth couldn’t do that in six months.
“She wanted the best schools, the best companies, the best projects.” She sighs. “I was lucky to find a job in New York that wasn’t just carrying coffee.” She had gotten a bigger offer from a more well-known firm where she had interned one summer, but it had been for an assistantship, heavy on the assistant. Her eventual Junior Architect label hadn’t been great, but it had been something, being a rising star at a smaller firm. It seemed like a good fit. “I did not make my mother proud. I… she lived in New York, and I lived with my dad all over.”
Percy frowns. “Your mom didn’t have custody of you?”
“My mom didn’t want custody of me,” she laughs, bitter. God, it feels weird to tell someone else this. Piper and Leo and Luke knew, obviously, but they had witnessed it all firsthand. Telling someone else, out of the blue… Well, Percy had divulged his tragic backstory without complaint. It’s only fair that she does as well. “I mean, my dad didn’t either. But when it became clear my mom wasn’t an option, well, there we were. He stepped up as best he could. That wasn’t always a lot, but when compared to my mother, he seems like a perfectly involved parent.”
“Are you trying to make my parental situation seem more reasonable?”
“Is it working?”
“If you ever meet my dad, we can compare notes.” He shudders at the thought, playfully. “So, what happened with your mom?”
“She made her displeasure known.” Annabeth sighs again, shading a corner. “I mean, she’s always made her displeasure known. I wasn’t getting good enough grades, I wasn’t in the right activities, I wasn’t going to get into the right school, yadda yadda yadda. But for a long time… I don’t know, it at least seemed like she was worried about me.” She thinks of the Eta party, of the man in the brown suit, tutting about Athena Pallas’s druggie daughter, and scowls. “My mother has always had an all or nothing outlook. If I wasn’t the best, I might as well be nothing. But the thing was, this time I thought I was making real progress. And when she invited me to lunch after six months in the same city, I thought she would see that.”
She had not. Because to Athena Pallas, having a daughter who was an architect instead of an executive Vice-President on her way to CEO, having a daughter at a small but growing architecture firm instead of the best one in the country, was like having a daughter who was drunk in a gutter somewhere.
And Annabeth had realized as much that lunch.
All her work was never going to earn her mother’s love.
And suddenly, she wasn’t sure what work had been her’s and what had been her mother’s ambitions.
She’d started crying. In the cafe and right now, on Staten Island, with Percy. “I’m sorry,” she sniffs, wiping her nose on her arm. “Wow, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He reaches over and wraps an arm around her, gently, rubbing her shoulder, and she more or less crumples into his side. “It’s fine. Take your time.”
Her arm, still free, keeps moving. The drawing takes a shape that she can’t quite name yet. A tree, maybe, in a box. A window to another world, possibly. She spills tears on the paper.
“She disowned me.” Her thin line trembles, before righting itself. “I ran out of there. I stumbled into the first tattoo parlor that didn’t smell like piss, and got my owl done.” She brandishes her left arm, the grey shape blurry and faded against her elbow. She had had a stuffed owl as a little girl, her protector against the spiders in the closet. “I cut off my hair, got my eyebrow pierced, found a club, and just… had a rough couple of days. Got really really drunk that night.” Like, too drunk. Crying on the floor of a filthy bathroom drunk. “Thalia found me under the bathroom sink, took me back to her place, helped me kick the hangover the next day, and that was that.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not,” Annabeth says. And most of the time, she isn’t. She wipes her eyes, smudged makeup getting smudger.
“Your mom sounds like she sucks.”
“She does.”
“What about your dad?”
She sniffs. “What about him?”
“You just haven’t really mentioned him. What’s he like?”
Shrugging, she wipes a tear from her cheek. “He’s a history professor.”
“And?”
“That’s about it.”
“I mean, do you like him?”
She shrugs again. “Sure.” There was a lot to like about Frederick Chase. “I haven’t really spoken to him in a while.”
Mouth in a sympathetic twist, he brushes the curls from her eyes, a gesture so sweet it makes her heart pound. “You should call him,” he says. “I’m sure he misses you.”
Her phone burns in her pocket, heavy with the weight of unread texts. “Maybe.”
“Do you want to change the subject?” he asks.
“Please,” she blurts out, digging the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. “God, please. Let’s go back to your cute backstory. Tell me more about your first ballet. I want to hear all about the time you were in the Nutcracker.”
Percy fishes out a napkin from somewhere, handing it to her. Grateful, she blows her nose into it, wet and disgusting. “I hate to tell you this,” he says, “But I have been in the Nutcracker, like, fifteen times.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously,” he nods, “It's the big moneymaker. Have you ever seen it?”
“It's a holiday classic,” she scoffs, a little wetly. “Of course I’ve seen it.”
He snorts. “Like, for real, or the recorded one they play on Netflix with Macaulay Culkin?”
“I've seen it live! My dad lived in San Francisco when I was in high school. They have a fancy ballet there.” She’d seen it as a little kid in NYC, she thought, too. Maybe when her parents were still married, or her mother was still willing to take her for Christmas.
“Would you be willing to see it again?”
“Like, for real,” she parrots back at him, “or the recorded one they play on Netflix?”
“Ha ha. I mean for real.”
“I mean… maybe if they switched things up a bit.”
“It's a classic!” He protests. “I mean, it isn’t like we do the Balanchine everywhere, every time. But… it's a classic.”
“I’m sure the dancing is fine.” Annabeth says. She remembers going with Luke in Boston and thinking it was nice, but also hoping Luke would kiss her at the end of the night, so she hadn’t really paid attention. “But they get to design a land of magic and sweets and fairies, and every time the costumes and the sets are just, like, pink glitter and white gauze mixed with weird racial stereotypes. There’s no imagination.”
“Well, okay then.” There’s something in his smile, in the turn of his head that she can’t quite identify. “What would you do?” he challenges.
She holds his gaze for a moment, looking into those eyes that almost reflect the color of the sea around them. Her eyes feel a little puffy still, but he doesn’t look away. Then, without breaking away, she flips open a new page in her sketchbook.
“Space,” she says. “It needs space.”
“Outer?”
“Negative. Lots of space for dancers to move around.” Her pencil scratches over the paper, familiar blocky shapes springing to life. Doric fluted columns split the wings, because of course. “It’s Christmas, so we want color: no sterile, snowy landscape. We know it’s all frozen over--we don’t need to see it again. Obligatory Christmas tree here,” she sketches a crude triangle off to one side, approximately along the golden ratio, “and a big fireplace in the center, preferably a functional one.”
“You know there was this dancer in the nineteenth century that died because her costume caught fire, yeah?”
Annabeth tilts her head, capitulating. “Fair point. We’ll raise it up on a pedestal, keep it out of the way.” She draws a little platform beneath it. “But color is key.” Up above, she draws a pediment crowning the proscenium. She scribbles in the empty space, a placeholder. “Everyone knows the story, so you lay it out up here, episodes merging into each other from start to finish.”
Percy peers down at her page, his chin perilously close to resting on her shoulder. She can’t draw like that. “Kind of reminds me of the Parthenon.”
“You’ve been?”
He nods, his hair tickling the side of her face. “Couple of times. I thought you said you wanted color, though. The Parthenon’s all white, isn’t it?”
“Not originally,” she says. “Do they not explain that on the tours?”
“Um…” Sheepish, he looks away. “I, uh, I’m not always great at listening.”
God. It’s so endearing. What the hell. She kisses him on the cheek, enjoying the way he flushes lightly. “Me either.” He is so fucking handsome. “But no, the original Parthenon, all those white statues, they were painted. Ergo, color.”
He blinks, momentarily stunned. “Wouldn’t--uh, wouldn’t that distract from the dancers? People would just be staring at the ceiling.”
“Then… it’s only lit up before and after the show. During the show, you turn the lights down, bring the focus back down onto the stage.” She considered it. Something she’d worked on for a production once, a fashion show Piper had done at Pratt. “Or, you set it up so the colors are mostly lights. Lights that shine through during the snowflake dance and when Clara rides off with the prince. But then you also get the white for the frosted look. But, they’re still too pink, so I don’t think some color variety is bad.”
“So, not to kill your vibe,” Percy says, pulling back a bit, “but I gotta say, I don’t see how this is that different from the billion other Nutcrackers out there.”
She glares, lips pursed. He’s trying so hard not to laugh. Dick. “The set is only half the problem,” she says. “You'd need to redesign the costumes, too.”
“Tell you what. Why don’t you come see my show in December, and then you can tell me all about how you’d fix it.”
“Me and every tourist in New York at Christmas time?”
He nods, like he was expecting it. “Then come to my current one. September isn’t Christmas, so it’ll be a lot less crowded.”
“I don’t know,” she grimaces, sketching a star in the corner of the page. “I don’t really think I’d fit--'' Fit in with those people like the ones from the Eta awards, who thought not being her mother’s lackey was the same as being in rehab.
“Annabeth.” Percy takes her drawing hand, lifting it off the page entirely. The pencil is caught between them, an ineffectual barrier to the sweet, rubbing thumb on the mound of her palm. “I want you to come to my show. I’ll leave you a ticket. No one will care what you look like, I promise.” He stares at her, baby seal eyes in full effect.
Fuck.
“As long as you leave me a ticket,” she says, weakly. “I mean, I wouldn’t be able to afford a good seat.” The lie slips out, easy as anything. She can’t help it.
He smiles, soft and warm and way too inviting. “And in the meantime,” he says, softly,
you can come with me tonight.”
“Tonight?”
“I’m going to my parents’ for dinner. It’ll be just my mom, Paul, and my sister. They’d love to meet you.”
“I can’t,” she replies, immediately, almost without thinking. “I’ve got--I’ve got work to do.”
She doesn’t. But boys don’t bring girls like Annabeth home anymore. She isn’t meant to settle down. She’s meant for grimy bars and ship yards. She'll leave it to the princesses to be brought home.
He deflates, just the slightest bit. If she hadn’t had so much up and personal time with his naked chest and the movement of his shoulders, she probably would have missed it. “Maybe next time, then?”
“Yeah,” she agrees, not entirely certain if she means to follow through. “Maybe next time.”
#ballet au#percabeth#pjo#the rivalry ends here#darkmagyk#perseannabeth#byima#uhhh whoever else#my fic#pjo fic#look at them having a real conversation and then immediately blowing it
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The Nose Kiss (Ahkmenrah x Reader)
Description: A dinner and offerings to the Gods devolves into something much quieter.
Notes: yesterday was the last day of my fast so today is the feast! i thought it might be fun to write something relating to that and my kemeticism thing, which is definitely there
edit: i just realized all my fics lately have been about ahk im sorry lmao
WC: 1.3k
+
The first thing on the list was obvious––you didn't even need to get them, as they were a common staple in your diet, especially around the festival of Opet. Dates, specifically medjool, and though you already had a box at home the thought of pitted dates came to you. If you got a couple nuts and coconut sugar you could stuff them, which was always a nice treat.
Number two and three on the list were a vegetable mix and olives.
Ahk mentioned liking olives.
You paused in the middle of the grocery store, staring at the list on your phone. Ahk would like all of this, actually––why hadn't you thought of that before? How many years have you celebrated this festival in a row and never thought of your friend?
Despite knowing exactly how the museum came to life every night, you'd never met anyone besides him. It was one of those evenings (or midnights, really) where restless wanderlust had you roaming the streets, looking for buildings to scale and the tallest places you could get to. The museum ended up being one of them, and that was where he saw and accosted you, a scared look in his eye that held you petrified.
That was a while ago now, though. It had to be... two? maybe three? years since you first met him, and considering the state of his existence he was a wonderful friend. And a very nice man to dream about.
One time he mentioned being a vegetarian, which happened right around the time he told you Teddy, a man also from the museum, recently became vegetarian as well. You wouldn't mind planning the feast around that. Thus you continued your shopping, a faint smile on your face as you imagined Ahk's upcoming look of surprise.
His hand in yours, you led him down the hallway, watching as he trailed behind you with a vacant but confused smile.
"I, the child of Khonsu," you began as you walked, starting a recitation of a prayer that you and Ahk had long since memorized. It would act as a sort of hint.
"I, the son of Ra," he returned.
"I will live and have power beneath the branches of the tree of Hathor. There Re appears in his horizon, his Ennead following him. Raise yourself, Re who are in your shrine, that you may lap up the breezes. May you swallow the northern wind, may you entrap the day, may you kiss Ma'at, may you sail the Sacred Bark to the Lower Sky, may you reckon up your bones and turn your face to the beautiful West."
In chanting unison you recited the prayer, the image of your shrine flashing behind your eyes. By now you remembered every detail of it, how it looked when you fell to your knees and prayed, soft utterances falling from your lips.
Your shrine at home was much prettier, much better managed than your portable one, but the smaller worked fine for your spot on the museum roof. Ahk never needed a jacket, but you did––for that you brought several thick blankets, wrapping up around the shrine and your pillow seats. Candlight surrounded the mobile shrine, illuminating the small painting of Khonsu in the back. For Ahk you brought an image of Ra, painted in faux gold, and gifted to him a couple months back.
His eyes drew first to the food. Plates of well-seasoned peas, turnips, lettuce, garlic, and onion––stacks of honey cakes and bowls of stuffed dates. In the middle lay the offering dish, one made of carved and stained wood and lined with flowers.
"How did you...?"
"Tied it all up in a big blanket and hauled it up the side," you said with a laugh, eyes set intently upon him, gauging his reaction. Thus far he looked delighted––beyond delighted. Almost... blushy.
"This.. this is –"
"Unwarranted?" You finished for him, raising a single brow.
He nodded.
"Don't worry," you said, once more taking his hand and leading him to sit down on his pillow seat. "It's the festival of Nehebkau today. Perfectly good reason."
"I suppose so," he said softly, attention drifting between the different plates.
"Offerings first?" You asked, and he nodded.
For the proceeding five minutes you stacked a fair amount of food onto the offering plate, lighting an incense whose smoke drifted high into the night sky. Without a roof above you, the scent remained distant, which suited you just perfectly for the meal you began to eat. An interesting yet uninvolved conversation flowed between you two, your attentions divided between the food and one another.
While Ahk finished up the remaining bites on his plate, you dug into your bag in search of your lute. You didn't play it often, more suited to guitar, but on the go it was a much lighter and smaller instrument.
"I lov–"
"Do you want to –"
You spoke at the same time, stammering and chuckling when you both recoiled your statements.
"You go first," you said, hands falling into your lap as you fidgeted.
"No, it's alright. What were you saying?"
"I just – wanted to know if you wanted to make some music," you said as you raised the lute into his line of sight.
"Sounds wonderful," he said with a happy, but dissatisfied, smile.
He taught you this one. The words. Together you translated it into English, though you rarely sung such songs in that language. Still, as you sung, you turned the words into English in your head, following along with the beat of your own voice.
But I, I am excited by your love alone
My heart is in balance with yours
and may I never be far from your beauty.
Yet I have departed from you now,
and when I think of your love,
my heart stands still within me.
The taste of sweetcake
Turns bitter on my tongue
The scent of your nose
is what revives my heart.
I have obtained,
forever and ever
What Amun has granted me.
"You sing that song well," he commented as you finished, quiet so as to not break the spell of music. "It becomes you."
Before you could answer he leant forward, eyes concentrated deeply into yours as his fingers raised to brush the hair off your face. Your heart skipped a beat as his skin touched yours. The two of you had never been all that touchy with each other––the furthest thing you'd done was a quick hug, leaving you clueless as to the sudden affection.
"You asked me about that one line in there, the one about the noses. When was that?" He asked, his head quirking to the side.
"Um.. a couple months ago maybe? You never gave me a direct answer. Why do you ask?"
He paused before opening his mouth, eyes straying to the side as a blush overtook him.
"It's called a nose kiss," he said, though apparently still couldn't bear to meet your gaze. "When a couple rubs their noses together and take in each others' scent."
You leaned forward the two inches it took to reach his face, closing your eyes as you bumped his nose with yours. At last his eyes turned to you, wide as he tried to comprehend what had just happened. Once he did so he laughed––blushed a deeper red, and looked bashfully to the floor.
"Not quite that short," he mumbled through the soft laughter wracking his shoulders.
So you tried again; leaned forward with a gentler touch, brushing your noses together instead of bonking. Still your eyelids fluttered shut, focusing on the scent of him, the feel of his warmth, the rush of your heart at every grace. He sucked in a sharp breath, shoulders tensing until your hand came up to cup his jaw. Then he relaxed, moved into you, slotted his nose beside yours and landed the softest kiss right above your lips.
"Better?" You asked.
He kissed you again, this time on your lips.
#ahkmenrah x reader#Ahkmenrah#Night at the Museum#rami malek#rami malek character#ahkmenrah x female reader#ahkmenrah x male reader
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Garden Report: 21.07.29
I was going to incorporate pictures to try to extend the post but just haven’t really had the strength to do it and go out. I’ve been under the weather -- figuratively and literally. I’ve given up being upset by waking at midnight to beating rain against my window or the scratching of the elderberry bush on the side of the house as its whipped by wind. I’ve also given up forcing my body to go. I know that movement will help with the treatment and healing but some days is just brutal. I do manage to take care of the chickens in the morning, see if the wild birds need water, and if any seedling beds are dry. Later I send the kids out to pick the assortment of ripe berries and plums. Any water logged plants that are rotting from damp go to the chickens. Some nights I’ve got to beg a kid to put up the chickens but I try to do it so they go to bed drier. Even on non-rain days the fog is heavy and damp.
It has been so sodden that I may not get a tomato crop at all because the pollen is just too damp. Even days with sun, humidity is outrageous. The chickens don’t like thunderstorms and are putting off the few eggs we were getting. I imagine they will maybe get back to business, if the buzzard (hawk) would get off the rose arbor. The red eyed bugger has taken up sunning itself (or looking for sparrow snacks) there for several afternoons and the girls are literally petrified ... board stiff, eyes bulging, mouths open wide and screaming. Not that I blame them ... I sort of feel like that anyway without a predator starring at me.
Seeded to tray: french lavender.
Seeded to soil: snap peas, snow peas, shinkuroda carrots, mixed beets, giant prague celeriac, malaga (polish purple) radish, hickok bush beans
Harvest: blue berry, raspberry tays, lettuce (ruby, red sails, simpson, speckled trout), french sorrel, pea pods, spinach, end of artichokes, rhubarb, santa rosa var. plums, salade burnette, nettles, mint, motherwort, last of the bulb onions from sets, chives, alpine strawberries, few yellow crookneck squash.
#catholic gardener#garden#gardening#urban homestead#permaculture#summer#harvest#herbs#fruit#berries#chickens#vegetables
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You should try growing some red sails lettuce in a pot, it tastes good, looks beautiful, and if you set a fan on it to increase transpiration it'll have that satisfying crunch.
Here I found a pic of it:
Isn't she beautiful....
OHHH I LIKW THIS 💖
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aesthetic.
what are your muse’s aesthetics? bold any which apply to your muse!
remember to REPOST! feel free to add to the list!
[ COLORS ] ~ burgundy. red. crimson. scarlet. maroon. mahogany. copper. amber. chocolate. brown. tawny. tan. bronze. brass. orange. gold. saffron. yellow. chartreuse. spring green. lime. mint. green. olive. forest. turquoise. teal. cerulean. blue. navy. cobalt. periwinkle. indigo. pewter. plum. purple. magenta. fuchsia. lilac. lavender. pink. coral. peach. ivory. cream. white. silver. grey. smoke. charcoal. ebony. black. pastels. vibrant. matte. metallic. muted. dark. light.
[ BODY ] ~ mutations. claws. fangs. wings. tails. feathers. webs. spikes. scales. fur. stripes. spots. freckles. acne. bruises. scars. scratches. gashes. lashes. wounds. amputations. burns. brands. teeth. gums. tongues. lips. beards. mustaches. cheeks. noses. ears. eyes. eyelashes. eyebrows. hair. heads. neck. shoulders. collar bones. arms. elbows. wrists. hands. fingers. breast. back. ribs. abs. belly. hips. curves. butts. legs. thighs. knees. shins. ankles. feet. toes. nails. sweat. spit. tears. blood. heart. stomach. lungs. liver. veins. guts. bones. spine. muscle. skin. feline. canine. masculine. feminine.
[ WEAPONS ] ~ bites. fists. kicks. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. bow. crossbow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud balls. bombs. missiles. boomerangs. lethal pets. lasers. canons.
[ MATERIALS ] ~ metal. gold. silver. platinum. pewter. titanium. iron. steel. copper. bronze. brass. tin. bismuth. diamonds. pearls. rubies. garnets. sapphires. emeralds. jade. peridots. alexandrite. opal. topaz. jasper. quartz. rose quartz. smoky quartz. amethyst. citrine. fluorite. amber. malachite. turquoise. lapis lazuli. sodalite. pyrite. labradorite. moonstone. petrified wood. wood. paper. parchment. hemp. canvas. burlap. oils skin. muslin. rayon. faux. wool. fur. lace. leather. skins. suede. corduroy. silk. satin. chiffon. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. rocks. flint. asphalt. brick. granite. marble. dust. rust. glitter. sand. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. nylon. polyester. plastic. glass. porcelain. bone. shells. coral.
[ NATURE ] ~ grass. leaves. trees. bark. flowers. roses. daisies. forget me nots. tulips. lavender. sunflowers. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. roots. ocean. pond. river. stream. waterfall. creek. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rain forest. tropical. jungle. marsh. moors. swamp. plains. hills. highlands. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. fire. lava. ice. frost. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops. shadow. tornado. hurricane. water spout. thunder. hail. twisters. humidity. dryness.
[ ANIMALS ] ~ birds. penguins. eagles. owls. falcons. vultures. hawks. swans. parrots. parakeets. doves. pigeons. ducks. robins. cardinals. blue jays. bluebirds. blackbirds. crows. ravens. magpies. mockingbirds. flamingos. ostriches. seagulls. albatross. peacocks. condors. finches. pelicans. chickens. geese. quail. bats. sheep. cows. buffalo. deer. hedgehogs. elephants. horses. giraffes. cats. lions. tigers. pumas. cheetahs. jaguars. foxes. dogs. wolves. coyotes. bunnies. mice. rats. monkeys. apes. bears. pandas. polar bears. snakes. iguanas. chameleons. alligators. crocodiles. turtles. lizards. frogs. toads. whales.dolphins. fish. sharks. stingrays. octopus. lobsters. crabs. bugs. spiders. moths. butterflies. flies. maggots. roaches. ladybugs. beetles. cicadas. dragonflies. fleas. termites. leeches. worms. snails. mosquitoes. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. dinosaurs.
[ FOODS/DRINKS ] ~ pepper. salt. sugar. honey. syrup. caramel. candy. bubblegum. mints. candy canes. gumdrops. lollipops. chocolate. vanilla. cinnamon. ice cream. cake. cookies. brownies. biscuits. pie. tarts. lemonade. soda. champagne. wine. brandy. rum. whiskey. vodka. tequila. sake. beer. soju. gin. crema de cacao. cocoa. latte. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. fruit. apples. oranges. lemons. cherries. strawberries. blueberries. raspberries. cranberries. watermelons. cantaloupes. bananas. coconuts. grapes. kiwi. pomegranates. tomatoes. vegetables. potatoes. cucumbers. carrots. turnips. onions. leeks. celery. broccoli. cabbages. lettuces. roots. nuts. white meat. red meat. raw meat. veal. pork. chicken. beef. venison. fish. lobster. oysters. pizza. ambrosia. pasta. sandwiches. soup.
[ HOBBIES ] ~ music. piano. flute. woodwinds. whistles. drums. guitar. cello. synthesizer. violin. lute. harp. fiddle. harmonica. trumpet. brass. singing. composing. folk. classical. bluegrass. blues. jazz. big band. pop. country. rock. punk. metal. electronica. hip hop. reggae. ska. rap. vinyl records. cassettes. cds. soundcloud. itunes. spotify. art. sculpting. pottery. painting. watercolour. drawing. pastels. charcoal. sketching. graffiti. printing. inking. collecting. fighting. martial arts. self-defense. boxing. fencing. sumo. wrestling. jousting. paintball. lazer tag. duelling. hunting. fishing. climbing. weight lifting. training. sports. football. football (usa). rugby. baseball. cricket. lacrosse. volleyball. basketball. tennis. badminton. skating. cycling. sailing. swimming. rowing. hiking. running. gymnastics. dancing. ice skating. hockey. reading. writing. cooking. sewing. acting. photography. video games. horseback riding. gardening. smithing. shopping. traveling. movies. theatre, libraries. books. magazines. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. science.
[ STYLE ] ~ nudism. perfume. cologne. piercings. tattoos. henna. body paint. war paint. make up. lipstick. mascara. eyeliner. eye shadow. powder. beauty marks. blush. nail polish. lingerie. fishnet. pantie-hoes. socks. stockings. leggings. long johns. under armor. corsets. sports bras. bustles. camisoles. blouses. button ups. tunics. vests. waistcoats. leather jackets. ponchos. sweaters/jumpers. hoodies. skirts. jeans. kilts. breeches. scarfs. cravats. ascots. belts. sashes. gloves. heels. sandals. platforms. tennis shoes. penny loafers. jordans. slippers. boots. cowboy boots. rain boots. army boots. armor. justaucorps. trench coats. capes. cloaks. burqa. suits. tuxedos. kimonos. saris. sun dresses. gowns. jewelry. earrings. nose rings. lip rings. tongue piercings. belly rings. gauges. eyebrow rings. necklaces. pearl strings. leis. bracelets. bangles. cuffs. watches. friendship bracelets. rings. pendants. lockets. broaches. boutonnieres. pocket watches. cuff links. hats. crowns. circlets. flower crowns. helmets. hijabs. turbans. baseball caps. cowboy hats. brocade. doublet. gorget. bracers. masks. cowls. braces. glasses. sun glasses. eye contacts. pajamas.
[ MISC ] ~ balloons. bubbles. candles. battle. war. diplomacy. peace. money. power. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. sex. hugs. duality. sin. lust. greed. wrath. envy. sloth. gluttony. pride. virtue. chivalry. honor. piety. charity. diligence. chastity. gentleness. aggression. romance. hatred. grief. pity. success. bitterness. sorrow. joy. fear. anger. good. evil. relativity. vampirism. sapphism. life. birth. time. death. illusion. silence.
Tagged stole from: @ababwa
Tagging: @direbcrn @sunsreign & anyone else who wants to do iiit
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Gratitude
This week, the news of the world is bleak, another war
grinding on, and all these friends down with cancer,
or worse, a little something long term that they won’t die of
for twenty or thirty miserable years—
And here I live in a house of weathered brick, where a man
with silver hair still thinks I’m beautiful. How many times
have I forgotten to give thanks? The late day sun shines
through the pink wisteria with its green and white leaves
as if it were stained glass, there's an old cherry tree
that one lucky Sunday bloomed with a rainbow:
cardinals, orioles, goldfinches, blue jays, indigo buntings,
and my garden has tiny lettuces just coming up,
so perfect they could make you cry: Green Towers,
Red Sails, Oak Leaf. For this is May, and the whole world
sings, gleams, as if it were basted in butter, and the air's
sweet enough to send a diabetic into shock—
And at least today, all the parts of my body are working,
the sky’s clear as a china bowl, leaves murmur their leafy chatter,
finches percolate along. I'm doodling around this page,
know sorrow’s somewhere beyond the horizon, but still, I'm riffing
on the warm air, the wingbeats of my lungs that can take this all in,
flush the heart's red peony, then send it back without effort or thought.
And the trees breathe in what we exhale, clap their green hands
in gratitude, bend to the sky.
-Barbara Crooker from Line Dance (Word Press, 2008)
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