Rb This Post To Give The Person U Rbed It From A Pretty Fall Leaf :]

I am so proud of Kanga for weaponizing Roo.

With Winnie-the-Pooh and The Battle of Hastings sharing an anniversary today, did you know that E. H. Shepard once drew this amazing scene for an exclusive book bag?

“It never gets easier. It’s always wonderful.”

This is the great tragedy about being alive and finding love. But it’s always wonderful.

hi Mr. Gaiman. My cat died two days ago and I really miss him. I’ve seen pictures of your dogs so I think you might be a dog person so I don’t know if you’ll get this but, I not only miss my cat (Kittywitty), but I also miss the the unconditional love that he gave. I’m scared that I won’t experience that kind of love again and it makes me very lonely. I’m scared of forgetting him, he deserves the world. He wandered into our farm one day and never left and I’m so grateful. He reminds me of you a lot, he carries this wonderful, otherworldly magic. I’ve known him since I was three. Life got less magical, but he never did. You could have the worst day, but then you’d see him and it was suddenly the best day. Anyways, I hope you have a wonderful day. You’re truly amazing and your writing enraptures me.

I'm so sorry about your cat.

I don't believe that there are cat people and dog people. I had so many cats from 1992 on -- they would turn up at our house and never leave. I wrote a story about them, and about one in particular, called "The Price".

This is Zoe, who was blind, and died in 2010:

This is Princess, who turned up (with kittens, and pregnant with more) in 1992 or 1993 and died in 2013...

One day, maybe, I'll be ready to have a house full of cats once more. It took me ten years after my dog first died to get another dog though. It never gets easier. It's always wonderful.

“X bodily fluid is just filtered blood!” buddy I hate to break it to you but ALL of the fluids in your body are filtered blood. Your circulatory system is how water gets around your body. It all comes out of the blood (or lymph, which is just filtered blood).

Your body is an ancestor. Your body is an altar to your ancestors. Every one of your cells holds an ancient and anarchic love story. Around 2.7 billion years ago free-living prokaryotes melted into one another to form the mitochondria and organelles of the cells that build our bodies today. All you need to do to honor your ancestors is to roll up like a pill bug, into the innate shape of safety: the fetal position. The curl of your body, then, is an altar not just to the womb that grew you, but to the retroviruses that, 200 million years ago taught mammals how to develop the protein syncytin that creates the synctrophoblast layer of the placenta. Breathe in, slowly, knowing that your breath loops you into the biome of your ecosystem. Every seven to ten years your cells will have turned over, rearticulated by your inhales and exhales, your appetites and proclivity for certain flavors. If you live in a valley, chances are the ancient glacial moraine, the fossils crushed underfoot, the spores from grandmotherly honey fungi, have all entered into and rebuilt the very molecular make up of your bones, your lungs, and even your eyes. Even your lungfuls of exhaust churn you into an ancestor altar for Mesozoic ferns pressurized into the fossil fuels. You are threaded through with fossils. Your microbiome is an ode to bacterial legacies you would not be able to trace with birth certificates and blood lineages. You are the ongoing-ness of the dead. The alembic where they are given breath again. Every decision, every idea, every poem you breathe and live is a resurrection of elements that date back to the birth of this universe itself. Today I realize that due to the miracle of metabolic recycling, it is even possible that my body, somehow, holds the cells of my great-great grandmother. Or your great-great grandmother. Or that I am built from carbon that once intimately orchestrated the flight of a hummingbird or a pterodactyl. Your body is an ecosystem of ancestors. An outcome born not of a single human thread, but a web of relations that ripples outwards into the intimate ocean of deep time.

Your Body is an Ancestor, Sophie Strand

these three emojis are brothers 🤔🤨🧐

Yes, this is a weird layout! I wish I could see more of this house to give the basement staircase more context. It’s similar to the basement entrance in my (formerly) grandmother’s gorgeous house. For reference her house was in Taylorsville, Utah. I would guess it was built in the mid 1960’s. Very open plan concept. Home entrance at street level. Walk up 4 stone stairs to the main house. To the right is the sunken main living room if you walk down 2 steps. Enjoy the windows or the stone fireplace, and there is a half-wall behind the sofa, gorgeous, very open. At the home entrance to your left is the dining room. Big sliding glass door at the back leads to the fully landscaped backyard. Incorporated seamlessly as a divider between the living and dining rooms is the basement staircase (basically straight across from the house entrance).

Very demure.

This one makes me wonder if this originally had a sunken living room and the “sunken” was remodeled away. The result would be a very out of place staircase.

mysteries 🌜 happy autumn equinox!

TIL so much thanks 👆👆👆👆👆

Link for full article below.

My least favorite things about anti- UBI discourse is always the techbros whining that "nobody is going to work anymore! People will just watch Netflix all day!" and I have 2 responses:

1) Who the fuck cares. Who the fuck cares what people do with their time! That's kind of the fucking point!

2) People aren't going to stop laboring. Housework (look, it's right there in the word!) will still need to be done. So will maintenance on our homes and personal spaces. Children will still need carers, as will the elderly and disabled. There are millions of examples of ~work~ that we do all the time, uncompensated, that won't suddenly stop because we aren't forced to sell our labor to provide corporation's profits.

I'm not surprised that what is traditionally women's work is invisible to these dipshits, but it never fails to anger me.

Anyway. Join the IWW.

classic