Tiffany couldn't quite work out how Miss Level got paid. Certainly the basket she carried filled up more than it emptied. They'd walk past a cottage and a woman would come scurrying out with a fresh-baked loaf or a jar of pickles, even though Miss Level hadn't stopped there. But they'd spend an hour somewhere else, stitching up the leg of a farmer who'd been careless with an axe, and get a cup of tea and a stale biscuit.
It didn't seem fair.
“Oh, it evens out,” said Miss Level, as they walked on through the woods.
“You do what you can. People give what they can, when they can. Old Slapwick there, with the leg, he's as mean as a cat, but there'll be a big cut of beef on my doorstep before the week's end, you can bet on it. His wife will see to it. And pretty soon people will be killing their pigs for the winter, and I'll get more brawn, ham, bacon and sausages turning up than a family could eat in a year.”
“You do? What do you do with all that food?”
“Store it,” said Miss Level.
“But you-”
“I store it in other people. It's amazing what you can store in other people.” Miss Level laughed at Tiffany's expression. “I mean, I take what I don't need round to those who don't have a pig, or who're going through a bad patch, or who don't have anyone to remember them.”
“But that means they'll owe you a favour!”
“Right! And so it just keeps on going round. It all works out.”
“I bet some people are too mean to pay-”
“Not pay,” said Miss Level, severely. “A witch never expects payment and never asks for it and just hopes she never needs to. But, sadly, you are right.”
“And then what happens?"
“What do you mean?”
“You stop helping them, do you?”
“Oh, no,” said Miss Level, genuinely shocked. “You can't not help people just because they're stupid or forgetful or unpleasant. Everyone's poor round here. If I don't help them, who will?”
"A Hat full of Sky" - Terry Pratchett
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If Pandolf is being a good dog and you endorse this by telling him “You’re a good dog!” he will go all squinty-eyed with happiness in a way that clearly says “Yes! I thought I was! thank you”
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Fanfic writers are like crows. If you give them treats (comments) they will bring you shiny things (fanfic)
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Seeing these two posts back to back makes me wonder how long it'll be before Brennan attacks Sam with a halberd
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reblog if you enjoy napping, being cozy, being conked out, snoozing, wrapping up in blankets, sipping a hot drink, catching some z's, hugging a plushie, or otherwise relaxing and resting
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Cast off one baby blanket and finally wove in the ends and washed another! It's amazing how productive one can be when one is avoiding something even more tedious.
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First carriage ride of the year 🐶🌼
For anyone new, Holly Mop is a rescue dog who spent the first few years of her life in a cage. When we first got her she was terrified of being outside and would become ill with stress when we tried to take her on walks. We got her a stroller to see if that would help and it became her favorite thing. Three years later she’s able to walk on leash in quiet spaces, but still loves the elevated view from her carriage.
The flowers are left over from renfaire last year:
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