Major Shout-out To Men That Craft. Dudes That Knit. Fellows That Felt. Bros That Bind Books. Cobbers

Original post x

the man who owns and runs the thai restaurant in my town knows me by name. he is one of the kindest and most thoughtful men i know. i started ordering from his place back in january, which was when i got my fibromyalgia diagnosis. back then i was using a walker, had limited mobility in my entire body but especially my hands, and was very visibly in pain. i always ordered the same thing: yellow curry with no meat, potatoes and carrots only (i have texture and other dietary issues). he always made it a point to make sure i could get out the door and carry the food safely. he had his workers package the food so that it was easier for me to open. as i kept coming back and i told him a little bit about my health status, he would always encourage me to keep going. he told me about how the spices he used were good for inflammation and began to edit the recipe just for me so that spices that were even better for fighting inflammation were used. he’d give me extra portions and despite the fact that i would tip every time, i realized later that he never charged my card for them. as time went on and my condition began to get better, especially with the help of a physical therapist, he would make encouraging remarks and tell me how happy he was for me. the day i came in without my walker, he practically jumped for joy, and despite my insistence, he gave me my meal for free that day. i continue to make progress with my conditions and i continue to go to the thai place. this man who does not know me personally and who i hardly know anything about is one of my favorite people. it’s interactions with humans like these that make loving life easier. and his curry really does help my chronic condition. it’s comfort food taken to the next level.

Genuine question (I don't have Helldivers 2 Q~Q) what do you mean "We saved the kids again"? Was there another hospital that needed rescued?

Message from Arrowhead Game Studios:

“Today we updated our backend and we have encountered an error that is affecting planet liberation rates, causing them to skyrocket. While we know this is fun, we also know that it is breaking the Galactic War mechanic itself.

In short, this is harming the game experience and will have detrimental effects on the war mechanic in the future.

We have made the decision to pause the Galactic War temporarily until this is fixed. We’re already starting the process, but we do not yet have an ETA for this fix. You will still be able to play Helldivers 2, but you cannot make any contributions to liberating planets or advancing the War.

This is our mistake and we own it. We are not going to revert any of the damage done by this error, however, so your major order victory is still secure.

We will keep you updated as soon as we have more information!

As always, thank you for being patient and understanding, Helldivers. 💛”

🐌 Need a tiny snail to brighten your day? We suggest the black gloss snail (Zonitoides nitidus). Found across most of the Northern Hemisphere, the shell of this diminutive gastropod typically reaches only 0.2 in (.5 cm) in diameter—less than the size of a penny. This snail is herbivorous, feeding on decaying leaves, fruit, and mushrooms.

Photo: origamilevi, CC BY-NC 4.0, iNaturalist

boop

When I was 3 years old I went to a preschool that had this little green crocheted crocodile finger puppet that was my absolute favorite toy to play with of all time. I named her Chelsea, because Chelsea starts with C and crocodile starts with C and more often than not wild animals in fiction aimed at kids have names that start with the same first letter as their species. I played with Chelsea every day, because she was my favorite toy, and because the other kids weren't really interested in her, and also because I eventually started to hide her in a special secret spot in the room so no one else would find her before I did. She was so beloved by me that when I graduated from preschool, my teachers gave Chelsea to me permanently, because it was clear no one else would ever love that little crochet crocodile as much as me anyway (in part because I hid her). They waited a few weeks after I graduated before doing it, too, and sent Chelsea with some post cards as if the crocodile had been on a whirlwind "travel the world" vacation before deciding to come live with me.

And Chelsea remained my favorite toy all through my childhood. There were others I loved nearly as much, like my Imperial Godzilla and the big red T.rex from the first Jurassic Park toy line and my tiny knockoff plush Charmander, but Chelsea always held the place of honor in my heart. She was my absolute favorite toy.

I kept a lot of my favorite toys through adolescence, even if social pressure eventually got me to give away a lot of them (and some, y'know, broke). That's obviously not surprising to you if you've followed my blog, since I still collect toys into my adulthood. But it's important to note because while I know I made a conscious effort to never throw out Chelsea every time I pared down my collection... at some point, she went missing.

I became aware of it when I graduated from high school. I was feeling really emotional about leaving that stage of my life and, y'know, becoming an adult and shit, and in that state I decided to find Chelsea to reassure myself that I hadn't entirely left childhood behind. But Chelsea wasn't there. No matter how hard I looked, I could not find Chelsea anyway.

And that was, like, devastating, because the only explanation was that somehow, at some point, I had accidentally tossed her out with some other "childhood junk" while trying to grow up and be responsible in my teen years. I had literally thrown away my childhood in a careless attempt to be more grown up.

Of course I knew she was just a toy - nothing more than some yarn twisted together in the loose shape of a crocodile, lifeless and soul-less and more or less worthless in the objective light of day. But she was also Chelsea, my best friend since i was three, my stalwart little pal, a source of comfort for most of my life at that point, and I had just... tossed her out! Like garbage! What kind of person was I becoming if I could do that to my best friend?

I was very visibly distraught, and my mom noticed. Being very crafty, she tried to find the pattern for Chelsea so she could knit me a new one. The problem is, she had no idea where to find said pattern. She checked all her books of crochet patterns, and when that failed she tried the internet, but no matter how hard she looked, she found nothing.

So my mom found the next best thing.

The original Chelsea was a tiny finger puppet, and I had "met" her when I was three. Well, I was eighteen now - shouldn't Chelsea have grown too? And as has been established, this crocodile was fond of whirlwind vacations. My mom found a pattern that looked as much like Chelsea as possible while also being a much bigger crocodile, and gifted her to me before I left for college - to show that while we can't stop the flow of time or how it changes us, that doesn't mean we have to leave it behind.

And yeah, I decided to believe it. That's Chelsea now. Yeah, I know that in reality it's a completely different set of yarn made by my mom rather than... whoever it was that crocheted the original Chelsea, but then, Chelsea was never really the yarn. She was the feelings I put into the yarn, you know? So that's Chelsea, all grown up, and still my most prized toy.

...

Flash forward... Jesus, eighteen years, holy shit. A few weeks ago I saw a post trying to identify a different crochet crocodile pattern, and thinking it was cute, I decided to try and look for it on ebay and etsy, just to see if maybe I could find it. I didn't, but do you know what I found instead?

A very familiar crochet crocodile finger puppet. An intensely familiar one, you might say. Of course I bought it. And of course I asked the seller if, perhaps, they might have the pattern for it or know where it came from (they did not, alas). And after a few days, she showed up at my house.

She's not Chelsea, obviously. For one thing, she's far too clean and fresh looking - Chelsea was very well loved, and looked the part, while this crocodile finger puppet has definitely not endured years upon years of a child's affection. And, more importantly, she's not Chelsea because we've already established that Chelsea grew up into a bigger crochet crocodile. This has to be Chelsea's younger sister, Cici.

And if I could find another of Chelsea's kind after all these years, then maybe, with a bit of luck, I might find the pattern for her, and be able to make more of them. Fill the world with Chelseas.

I really enjoyed the boopening. :)

Give-away shops

I'd like to tell you all the story of Jan's give-away shop.

The story:

Jan was a guy who lived in my hometown. Financially speaking, he was well-off: he owned the house in which he lived alone, and had gathered a lot of stuff throughout the years.

One day, Jan realised all of this stuff wasn't making him happy. He decided to move to a small apartment and to get rid of most of his possessions.

Jan also realised the privileged life he led: he owned much more than he needed, and was able to move on the fly just because he felt like it.

All of this made Jan decide to open up a give-away shop. He moved everything he didn't need to his living room, simply opened up his front door, and told everyone they could come and pick up whatever they wanted for free.

His friends declared him an idiot: humans are selfish, they said, and would just take his valuables and sell everything they'd gotten from him. They were wrong. Sure, some people did this, but they were only a small part of those who came.

Those who had less than Jan (including yours truly) came by and found things they needed but had been postponing to buy because they couldn't afford to. Others came to pick up things they could use for their charities, or for the classrooms they had to teach on a too low budget.

The biggest surprise was how Jan never ran out of things to give away: rather than taking things, a lot of people started donating items they didn't need anymore!

Objects weren't the only thing people donated: Jan quickly amassed a team of dedicated volunteers to run the shop for him whenever he was absent.

And that's the story of how my town got its first give-away shop. Unfortunately, the shop doesn't exist anymore: they closed down after about five years because Jan eventually had to sell his house.

His shop has left an important impact on my town: inspired by his shop, we now have a thriving freecycle community, town hall frequently hosts give-away markets (flee markets where everything's free), and individuals have been putting up give-away cabinets, fridges, and libraries all over where people can leave their unused goods, leftover food, and unread books for others to enjoy.

The take-away:

Not all of us are as privileged as Jan: if we were, we wouldn't have much need for projects like these. However, we can still learn from his story!

If you've got an unused cabinet lying around, why not turn it into your own give-away corner? If you work in event planning, maybe consider hosting a give-away market some time. Do you work at a library or a community centre? Those are the perfect spots to put a give-away library or a leftovers fridge: just make sure to keep an eye on anything food-related and to clean out expired goods when necessary.

Another popular variation on this idea are plant cuttings corners and seed banks. These are a great way to share native plants with fellow gardeners to improve the biodiversity in your neighbourhood.

If this post has inspired you, try petitioning your town for projects like these: they're often welcomed because they don't cost much to set up and can have a big positive impact on both your community and the environment.

(Image source) [ID: a small outdoors wooden construction with a see-through plastic roof containing a cupboard with toys, cookwares, and shoes, a hanging rail with clothes, a shelf with books, a bulletin board, and a box and a bag. The text "Give Box: sharing is caring" is painted at the top of the shed, and purple flowers and red hearts are painted on its sides.]

FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DO NOT KNOW

THIS IS A TRUMPET

THIS IS A TROMBONE

THIS IS A TUBA

AND THIS IS A FRENCH HORN

THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME