#Grape Vines That Grow In Shade

[rinrinlovee]

victorian girl autumn

#We could listen to studio ghibli soundtracks and pick flowers from the garden #I could make you german chamomile tea with honey and bake you apple pies with the Granny Smiths from my fruit trees #Fun fact! My backyard is absolutely enormous #With multiple apple and fig trees #blackberry brambles #a persimmon loquat and cherry tree #in my front I have a lemon bush #and I think a grape vine and pecan tree? Though I haven’t seen either of them produce yet #Most if the yard gets sun too #So it’s optimal for growing gardens #There’s a good few yards of brush between the fence and usable yard #So that’s great for shade gardens and little tunnel havens #Oh! And I have a yellow grapefruit bush #Still trying to convince my mum for chickens #Though we live next to a river and attract enough predator animals as is #I’ll be working on tilling up some ground beds for a couple flower/vegetable gardens this winter #And currently drafting out some plans for a small propagation greenhouse #Trying so hard to make my studio ghibli film dream come true

[definegodliness]

Growth

At last, the apples Grow; I thought They would stay small, Like the pears, They got burnt By a callous June Sun. Only those Who arrived too late Or arose in the shade Get a chance To develop. The trees, now, Soak up the plentiful rainfall, Quenching their thirst, While the nigh Ripe plums Burst, To rot Where they hang; They thrived, and now wither At their Moment suprême. The pup Dug out The raspberry shrub, But there's always next year. The brambles branch out Into uncharted territories. I look at the vine Stripped from its grapes To prevent wasps, Now Knowing Their queens have drowned; They would not have caused A nuisance. I look, and I think nothing of this all; It's a game Of loss and gain. Simply, life, Under changing conditions. I walk on — one last glance At the Star Magnolia, I planted to commemorate Love. After all these Hapless years It finally has given up, And perished; The soil I impulsively put it in Proved to be Malnutritious. I think nothing of this. I walk on, Thinking nothing of this all. It is what it is. It all, Simply Is.

--- 3-8-2023, M.A. Tempels ©

#poetry #spilled ink #writing #romanticism #dark academia #poem #alt lit #spilled thoughts #poets on tumblr #tumblr poetry #creative writing #free verse #writings #writeblr

[apollomes-supremacy]

LO Dionysus design 🍇🎭

| Apollo | Persephone | Hermes | Ares | Artemis | Ganymede | Aphrodite | Eros | Zeus |

This will be a long post since Dionysus isn’t a character yet so I had to create him from 0.

The beginning of Dionysus’ introduction started on EP 93 (with Semele, Dionysus’ mother), but it has been more than 100 episodes and we got absolutely nothing from that plot, which is bad considering that other gods get involved in the og myth (Zeus, Hera and Hermes, mainly), but none of them (before and after the time skip) display any knowledge or memory of the event, especially Zeus, who is the one who accidentally kills Semele in the first place.

I already talked about it here, but im 100% sure that the child mentioned in episode 218 is Dionysus. He should be 10 yo right now and he’s the only character (vaguely) introduced who is around that age. Not to mention, Dionysus does have some connections with the Underworld. My main theory is that he will be adopted by HxP and will remain a child for the rest of the series (probably skipping the majority of Dionysus’ myths). And that’s honestly such a waste of potential. So I decided to give my take on him if he was in LO, like the redesigns I did with many other characters.

Design

My main inspo was 60′s and 70′s Hippie fashion, with a lot of patterns, accessories (crystals, evil eyes, beads, rings, etc), loose clothes and a more lazy/cozy look. He’s two shades of purple that split his face, which is meant to represent his duality as the god of parties and joy & god of wrathful madness. Hermes gave him nymph ears to use as a disguise when he was young, but he doesnt want to change them back because he grew up and feels comfortable with them. He has a very androgynous/feminine look, which leads to a lot of people thinking he’s an actual nymph.

In his true form (which can come out voluntarily, but usually happens when the god gets so mad that they are unable to control themselves) he can get really big. Leafs and grapes sprout everywhere, he gets another pair of arms made of plants’ stems and his eyes go full neon green.

Story

His story is very similar to the og myths, with just some small differences. He is born from Zeus’ thighs and goes to live with Demeter and Persephone as one of their nymphs to escape Hera’s wrath. There he starts to question a lot about himself, like his gender and his origins (he doesn’t know he is not an actual nymph), and when puberty hits, his body and his powers go crazy. Its also around that time when he meets and falls in love with Ampelos (and you know how that story ends).

When the wine he creates starts growing in popularity and Dionysus starts getting worshipped by some cities, Zeus decides that there’s no reason to hide him from Hera anymore, so he brings Dionysus to Olympus and reveals the truth, inviting him to become an Olympian. Dionysus says yes without thinking twice, so he moves in and starts to get prepared for his ceremony and his new life.

But there’s a problem. The Olympus lifestyle is way too different from Dionysus’. People are sophisticated, modern and even mean-spirited, while he is the complete opposite. It’s hard for him to fit in and he just wants to go home with the nymphs and satyrs, and he eventually does... illegally.

Personality & relationships

Dionysus is very outgoing and funny. He’s kind to everyone around him (not discriminating against nymphs, satyrs or mortals), but he can get very emotional very fast. He gets easily annoyed, which will prob just result in some unwanted vines around the house and a grumpy look, but the moment he gets mad is when everything falls apart (wrath form). Anger issues + no control over powers = no good.

He sees Demeter as a mother and Persephone and the nymphs as older sisters, while Silenus and the other satyrs served as fathers. His favorite brother is Hermes who kept an eye on him during his entire childhood and still cares deeply for him. He also has an interesting relationship with Apollo, he is very scared and intimidated by him (I understand why lol) but wants to start a friendship. Except for the fact that Apollo already has a soft spot for him, Dionysus is just oblivious to it. Ares is also scary and kinda mean, but he likes Dionysus and cares for him. He’s very indifferent towards Zeus, Hera hates him (he hates her too) and everyone else is pretty neutral, considering he doesnt know a lot of people outside of the nymphs and satyrs.

Powers

Dionysus is a fertility god (which in this universe doesnt mean that much), this means he has powers over vegetation (like Demeter) and mortals’ desires (like Aphrodite). Being the god of madness also means that he can make people so mad to the point of committing atrocities and completely losing their minds. In his true form, simply looking at him can lower your sanity. He also has the powers all the other gods have, like changing forms, cursing and blessing people, being summoned by mortals, etc. 

That’s all I have the energy to write rn. I tried to replicate the LO art style, and honestly I really liked the result! Hope you guys liked it too <3

(Also, Dionysus would be around his 20′s when the story takes place. He is Pansexual and is still confused about his gender but he’s fine with any pronouns).

#lo #lore olympus #anti lo #anti lore olympus #anti lo art #anti lore olympus art #lore olympus redesign #loresona #lo loresona #lo oc #lo redesign #lo dionysus #my art #art #digital art #character design #oc #original character #anti lo stories #anti rs #mine

[turtlesandfrogs]

So one of the Things I'm Trying To Do is to develop a less adversarial approach to dealing with invasive species.

Partially because losing to a plant is kinda embarrassing.

But also because of the readings and talks from people with a different perspective, which ends up making a lot of sense (especially the part where you ask why is this species thriving here instead of a native species? Or what can we learn from this species, which has been a pain in our behinds?)

And also because even with only a quarter acre to take care of, since I have more than full-time employment, I'm losing the war on hedge bindweed (see how silly that sounds?).

And bindweed is the major problem left- I've gotten Himalayan blackberries, English Ivy, and Vinca all subdued. So anyway, I was doing some more reading, and some more observations,

So here's what I've put together:

Bindweed excels at taking over disturbed areas (like when I dug out all the Himalayan blackberry crowns...)

Bindweed loves full sun.

Bindweed does not thrive in deep shade, and in fact in a Doug Fir forest I was recently weeding (yes, really. Mostly taking out Vinca minor and some non-native grasses), it was barely holding on. Weak, flimsy little vines that were a mere two feet long.

Add to this that our region has been getting heatwave after heatwave, and I would like to have a shady-ass yard to help mitigate that, and I've got an idea.

What if, in the areas that don't already have trees planted, I build a hexagonal grid of trellises to grow hardy kiwis, fuzzy kiwis, and grapes on? What if I just make my entire yard be extremely shady, while only doing what disturbance is necessary to keep the kiwis and grapes free from bindweed? Or rather, ensure that the kiwis and grapes will eventually win the race?

On top of that, some of my favorite native species do very well in deep shade, so I could have this ceiling of fruiting vines with a carpet of wood sorrel, false lily of the valley, bleeding hearts, etc below. That just sounds lovely.

[fullmetaldevil-blog]

BEHOLD!! MY GARDEN (or at least a part of it lol)

My "California Dreaming" rose, one of two I bought for Mother's Day. The other being "Cherry Parfait" which is not shown here.

White peach (Snow Queen)

This tree is about 9 feet tall and currently has about 200+ peaches. If they all come to term, I'm gonna be shoving them in everyones face cause there's no way I can eat that many.

Jakaranda tree with a hummingbird enjoying the flowers. This tree turns a portion of my yard purple from the quantity of flowers it produces.

Yellow peach (Red Baron)

This is the 2nd time this tree has offered fruit since we bought it. The first year we got the tree it and several others were hit by the stone fruit beetle. A type of boring beetle that is hard to detect until it's too late. I lost 2 trees and nearly lost this one. It was cut down to a mere 7 inch stuml that wasn't infected. Since then it has recovered to a 6 foot tall (and growing) tree and is starting to produce fruits.

Blackberry

This pot has 3 blackberry bushes, and they are losing their minds. They are loaded with berries that are very sweet. Right behind them is my Boysenberry which is physically about 7-8 feet long and is loaded with berries as well. My raspberries (both red and golden) are slower this year which is fine.

Grape (variety unknown for now)

I used to have 17 grape vines of various sizes but when the drought kicked in and the harsh heart wave struck back to back I lost all but one. This lone survivor was under my ash tree which sheltered it from the weather. Now I have 3 grape vines as I recently acquired 2 Concord grapes (not shown here).

Golden Nugget

My newest addition to my citrus collection. A very sweet, easy peel tangerine that we carry at my job. I was shocked to see one for sale at my local nursery and immediately had to get one. It's a baby at only a foot and a half tall but will one day be up to 7 feet to match my Murcott and Dancy tangerines.

Strawberries~

I have 3 varieties of strawberries and about 140 plants in clusters of 4-10. They are in both hanging pots and a massive bed and produce about a pound of strawberries at a time. They have such rich flavor and super sweet.

All my berry plants except for my blackberry are in shade houses I built that have bird netting surrounding them to keep the birds and squirrels from eating them. Shade houses are a must now due to the summer heat and I plan on building more as my ankle allows.

#my garden #roses #tangerine #grapes #flowers #strawberry #blackberry #white peach #yellow peach

[imperiuswrecked]

Favourite cultural food? Any memories tied to it?

Stuffed grape leaves. I learned to make them with my mother and grandmother, in my grandmother's village she had a neighbor who had the most beautiful grape vines, and like to paint a picture their backyard was all tiled, smooth decorative white tiles that were always clean, every few feet there was a small stone wall around uncovered earth where the trees would grow out of the ground and the vines were attached to wire sheets above your head, you could walk under them, sit under them, and the grapes would be growing right above your head. The leaves were so thick that you'd get lots of shade from the sun and I spent a lot of time playing there with their grandkids. Whenever the adults were sitting around chatting the neighbor would just pick off ripe grapes from the vines, wash them and serve them. The grape leaves were given for Dawali (stuffed grape leaves).

#imp answers #havent thought about that in years

[leebrontide]

I haven't made a garden update in a while.

The last frost was super late this year, and it's been very dry for several weeks, so there hasn't been a ton to report. But there are a few things.

The yellow primrose lilacs have more than doubled in size. They are SO happy in their new location and I'm so proud of them.

Lots of things have sprouted in the tea garden. I...hope they are the things I planted and not a bunch of random invasive weeds or something, but it's hard to tell.

I got my rose for the tea garden in the mail! It's like 5 inches tall. It's a heirloom variety from Germany called Goldbusch that's supposed to be great for fragrance, bushiness and hips.

I got a bunch of cool but not fussy iron trellises on craigslist for next to nothing. I've planted a non-invasive native wisteria on it, and immediately concluded that if I don't want to be staring at the solar panel control box all the time I'm gonna need at least 1 more wisteria. It's planted in a bit of shade but still growing strong!

All the old grape vines survived! It looked for weeks like only 2 of the 4 made it, but 1) I was feeling lazy and 2) I was feeling hopeful, so I left them alone and the two we thought were dead all have sprouted a LOT of new shoots. The horrible free grape vine adventure will all be worth it!

The native grasses border just did not sprout. I tried to keep them watered enough they wouldn't dry out but it's a very sunny spot and as dry and hot as it's been I think all my seeds just roasted. Ty is buying very tall blueberries instead, and I'm going to think about other places to put a bunch of native grasses.

The rabbits ate all the branches off my plum tree and one of my cherry trees AGAIN so now my garden is a very un cute obstacle course of chicken wire tubes. Sorry bunnies but you've got to let some things actually establish if there's gonna be a proper ecosystem here. Eat the clover I have loads.

I've discovered that dahlias are a food crop? Apparently the tubers are like potatoes? I never fuck around with non self-seeding annuals BUT if it's gonna be pretty flowers AND I can dig em up and eat them...I might have to consider that.

Will post pictures when I have something other than weedy sprouts, chicken wire tubes, and sticks to show.

#rhombus house garden #Rhombus garden #gardening #cottage gardening #gardenblr

[eggtrolls]

Spent my morning pruning hour at work on this groundsel bush (a native salt marsh species also known as Baccharis halimifolia) that was covered in porcelainberry (Ampelopsis glandulosa var. brevipedunculata), an invasive species of grape. Cherished mutual (of nine years! wow!) @islenskur mentioned not knowing much about the invasive species I work on so here's a little primer for anyone interested.

Porcelainberry is from eastern Asia and was imported to the United States in the late 19th century as an ornamental landscaping plant - it has since gone rogue and is all over the East Coast and has been found as far west as Iowa. The good people of the Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden in Virginia said porcelainberry is "the most pervasive of all invasive plants" they are dealing with. It's a woody vine that can grow as tall as 20 ft, can grow in just about any environment include damp and shaded areas, and has a massive root system so it's also incredibly difficult to eradicate. It grows so quickly and so prolifically that it can easily shade out other plants in the understory and it will also easily cover an entire tree and engulf it -- if you find an undisturbed thicket of porcelainberry, it is probably a monoculture as it has killed or outcompeted everything in the area. Furthermore, since it can regrow from root fragments, it cannot be composted. As high risk of an invasive species as it is, porcelainberry is still sold in the horticulture trade, although it has since been banned in Delaware.

Porcelainberry seeds are spread by birds and small mammals like squirrels that eat the small, marble-like berries that form in the summer; they're actually really beautiful and vary in colour from a robin's egg blue to a deep midnight purple. While they are edible, they taste nasty, so if you like bland berries with a somewhat stinging aftertaste and a slimy texture, these are a perfect snack. The leaves are also edible and not disgusting (I've actually used them to make dolmades aka stuffed grapes leaves and the texture was no different than cultivated grape leaves) and they look quite lovely on a cast iron fence -- zoom in on the little tendrils that it uses to cling to itself and other objects to make a lattice and quickly grow upwards. These tendrils are a big tell for identifying porcelainberry in the winter when there are no leaves, as other clinging/climbing vines like Asian bittersweet, English ivy, and poison ivy have different ways of attaching to the trees.

As much as I hate dealing with it, I have to admit that this plant is incredibly good at thriving in adverse conditions.

Bonus: it can be hard to see how much is removed just from before-after pictures so here’s the cleanup result:

#dispatches from the park #invasive species 101 #Ampelopsis glandulosa

[stumblngrumbl]

So the previous owner of our land loved chain link fence. Probably because he lived in LA before here, and probably also because it at least used to be really cheap to set up. Kept his dog in; we removed much of it early on in our tenure here, though there are still a few runs that are marked for demolition (and sale to someone on craigslist hopefully).

This one section had tasty grapes growing on it, so we kept it; but every time I've seen in the last few years I've been like "damn I hate chain link".

I don't have any views really showing how ugly it was, but these will have to do (the wood posts are new):

So last year I started talking about replacing it, but though the vines are really funky shaped, I didn't want to destroy them at the same time. Last week, I solidified plans to do it, and then Saturday morning finalized them, put in the upright posts and yesterday set up the crossbars and the wiring:

The general idea is that the vines will spread across the wires, and fruit 🍇 will hang down for the picking; all the while providing convenient shade and shelter for the chickens, who will madly jump up and try to eat the grapes (usually there's a few growing down low, but with this new trellis there may not be but I won't be surprised to see them fly up halfway and perch to snack)

Now there's room for two or three new vines, especially after I hack back some of this stuff after they go dormant this coming fall.

Timing is everything - I considered doing this earlier but we had too many higher priority projects to do and it was good to see what's actually alive and what's dead on this, as it was too much of a mess to move off the chain link without some cutting back, but we didn't want to massacre live stuff when it was just walking up.

Another view -

All of the wire connections can be tightened against expected settling and seasonal temperature-induced slack/contract cycles.

We're going to plant roses at either end.

#scenes from the yard #grape vines #trellis #gardening

[dwellordream]

"The House on a Back Street."

By Mary Abbott Hand, Ladies' Home Journal, 1885, transcribed by myself, 2024

The Skittles family lived in a tidy, little box of a house, on a back street in the city. But though small, it was as pretty and pleasant as possible. There was a little parlor, dear to Mrs. Skittles' mournful heart, where funeral wreaths and hair bouquets and a portrait or two hung in the shade and never a wanton sunbeam was allowed to disturb the colors of the carpet and upholstery.

Then, there was a bright sitting-room, where geraniums smiled and fuchsias swung their crimson bells and a canary sung from morning until night. An open fire vied with the bay window for cheerfulness. There was a low bookcase filled with pleasant volumes, a lounge heaped with gay pillows, easy chairs at tempting angles, an old organ that for sweetness far exceeded the smart, new piano in the dark parlor. In fact, that pleasant sitting-room contained a wide range of delights for a contented mind.

In front of the house, a blossoming linden perfumed the air in May; and, later, spread its broad green sunshades so that Mr. and Mrs. Skittles and their little girl could sit under the pleasant arbor it made. And then, the leaves were no sooner on than they began to fall and she must keep the broom wagging till December if she would have her door-steps tidy.

The kitchen windows looked out upon what Mr. Skittles called "the garden." With Mrs. Skittles it was only "a back yard," though a grape vine trailed its graceful leaves and hung its purple pendants right before her eyes. Beds of verbenas and pansies made rich mosaics beneath the windows and the boundary fence was all overhung with morning glories that made the place look like fairyland the moment the sun was up.

But it was the prospect beyond that spoiled the garden for Mrs. Skittles. This was the beautiful home and gardens of their landlord, Charles Meliss, Esq. His mansion fronted on Main Street, but the terraced garden with its fountain, its exotics, its velvet sward and rare shrubs, reached quite to the Skittles; morning glories.

Mr. Skittles rejoiced in his neighbor's possessions was thankful, every day of his life for the sight of so much freshness and beauty. But, to Mrs. Skittle, as she expressed it "was a constant aggravation." Fortunately, the Skittles' only child was like the father. She had, to be sure, the shell-pink complexion, the dimples, the lovely blue eyes and wavy golden hair that had won for Mrs. Skittles long ago the title of belle.

But all these external beauties were made radiant by a sunny disposition. No wonder strangers would turn their heads on the street to look at the charming girl. It was the great disappointment of Mrs. Skittles' life that her child was a girl. It had been her dream to have a boy--to name him Robert Dalrymple for her father. But the best she could do was to name the baby Roberta Dalrymple and insist on having her called by the second name. But of course it became shortened to "Dallie" by her father and playmates, but Mrs. Skittles always called the child Dalrymple. She was such a beauty that Mrs. Skittles was sure she would never live to grow up and was fond of quoting--"Death loves a shining mark."

Nevertheless Dalrymple weathered all the children's diseases and at sixteen was a specimen of perfect health. And now began another worry. Mrs. Skittles did not forget that at sixteen she had a lover and in two short years from that time was married. The idea of Dalrymple and a lover! That would be a drop too much for Mrs. Skittles. So the girl was restricted like a prisoner of war. She could not go to a prayer-meeting or a party unless her father was her escort. She was forbidden to associate with her boy school-mate--was not allowed to speak to a boy on the street, or to acknowledge the bow and lifted cap of the most innocent acquaintance.

Even Tom Butterfield, their next door neighbor, never but once ventured to say "How do you do, Dallie?" when Mrs. Skittles was with her. All the boys could get by way of recognition was a deeper tint of pink in the cheeks and a conscious drooping of the eye-lids when they met the pretty girl. To do Dalrymple justice, she was as dutiful as she was modest and earnestly meant to please her fretful mother, whom she loved in spite of everything.

Dalrymple was untold comfort to both parents,--a perfect sunbeam in the home,--a model scholar, excelling in all her studies, particularly in mathematics, and by the time she was fifteen, the entire business of family accounts, marketing, settling of rent, etc., was entrusted to her. The landlord, young Squire Meliss always collected his own rents, and Mrs. Skittles had formerly met him herself, but, she declared, nothing so stirred her up as to meet that man who had everything in the world below, while she--

"But, mother!" interposed Mr. Skittles, using the name that reconciled him to his lot more than any other he could call his wife. "Just think, he is a love-lorn bachelor, and nobody to speak to in all that great house but servants. I wouldn't give our Dallie for all he is worth."

"He isn't an old bachelor," replied Mrs. Skittles. "Not over twenty-eight I am sure. Plenty of time yet for him to put the fine name of Mellis alongside some Smith or Murphy he may wish he hadn't. Moreover, it's because we have got Dalrymple that we ought to have the riches. That man has no use for half he owns. It fairly aggravates me, the very sight of him."

And so it came to pass that the unpleasant duty of paying the rent money devolved finally upon Dalrymple. If it were a trying thing for her, she never complained, but always answered promptly the ring announcing Mr. Mellis' call the first Saturday in each month, and returned from the brief interview with no other sign of disturbance than the heightened color in her cheeks.

Surely, there was never a more agreeable landlord than Mr. Mellis. He was as courteous as he was fine looking, and he was quite as neighborly as Mrs. Skittles would permit. As it was, many choice baskets of fruits or early vegetables found their way over the morning glories with "Mr. Mellis' compliments for Mrs. Skittles." The lady however did not allow herself to taste the luxuries in the presence of her family, though she might just "try what they were like" in secret. Openly, she avowed that the very sight of them made her sick.

Mrs. Skittles was one of those ladies possessed of such delicate nerves that the slightest ruffle of the waves would stir the very depths of the ocean. The wrong shade of trimming on a new dress had been known to give her a bilious headache; a trifling omission in the grocer's orders would send her in tears from the table, and it would be hard to estimate the hysterical attacks brought on by dear Mr. Skittles' blunders.

He was a man that dearly loved his home, and all through the busy day, looked forward to the bright supper time when, Dallie on his right hand and his orphan nephew, Jakey Billings, on his left, and his wife opposite him, his idea of earthly bliss was realized. That is, when she was opposite him. But he was never quite sure that he should see her. Slight causes and no causes at all were sufficient to keep her in state in her shaded room upstairs.

What was a serious matter to the elders in the family, however was great fun for the children. Dallie, dear child, was sorry for her hungry papa, no doubt, but she, as well as Jake enjoyed the freedom that Mrs. Skittles; absence afforded and they would not have been "young Folks" had they not, smiled at one another gleefully across the table, while Cressy, the girl, scolded because the stewed oysters were turning cold.

The more sharply she scolded, the more gently oblivious became the weary master of the house, till he nodded an unconscious assent to Cressy's remarks. He had a happy faculty of going to sleep when the wind blew, and had wisely learned to receive a woman's gusty temper with the same philosophic treatment.

Jake was never quite so happy as one these occasions when his aunt was absent. She viewed him with the sternest disapproval because he was a boy, and tortured herself with many a distressing vision of Dallie's falling in love with him one of these days. But I will say, here and now, before Jake has outgrown his jackets, that Dallie never did fall in love with him. He was "only cousin Jake" to her--the one boyish companion of a brotherless girlhood, remembered with a smile as she recalled his merry face across the tea-table; and thought of with a sigh in later years for poor Jake ran away to sea and was lost on the first voyage.

As for Jake, however great his admiration for his cousin Dallie, he declared he liked his uncle the best of the family, "because he was all Skittles." Jake had a wholesome disgust for the "Westcott Dalrymples,"--the "Wedgewood Chinas" he would say when speaking of Dallie's maternal ancestors. Light-hearted children they were, Jake and Dallie, and lucky for them that the pitiful spectacle of an ill-mated couple looked to them at that time only like a comedy.

But with Mrs. Skittles, life though hardly tragic, was not worth the living. The little comforts of their own humble home and the luxuries forts of their landlord alike irritated her discontented mind. What is to be done with such naughty, grown-up children? We can't stand them in a corner till they come out pleasant, and so they go on till they drive all love and comfort out of the home and fret themselves into chronic invalidism or an insane asylum.

God pity those nervous sufferers who can't behave, and pity the friends of those who can, but won't. With every year, the kindly relations between landlord and tenants increased, always excepting Mrs. Skittles. One would suppose she believed that Mr. Mellis cultivated hyacinths and sweetwater grapes for the sole purpose of tormenting her. Once, when Mr. Mellis made his usual business call, she brought a choice handful of Jacqueminot roses for "the lady of the house." "If your mother does not care for them," said the landlord pleasantly, "please keep them for yourself, Miss Dimple."

She placed the roses in her pet vase and set it, thoughtlessly perhaps, on the window-sill, not noticing that the morning sun was glaring in there and would soon wither the crimson petals. But Squire Mellis was glad to observe them there, and exclaimed, as he turned from his window to go to his office,--"I'm glad Dimple got the roses." After that, every rent bill was sweetened with a bouquet.

One Saturday morning, some months later, Dalrymple had just attended to her usual duty of receiving the landlord at the door and came in with her hands full of lilies. Perhaps it was the contrast that gave her such an unusual color her mother thought. Dalrymple drew a low stool beside her mother and said, with much hesitancy. "Do--you--suppose--mother--you--could--ever--bring--your--mind--to--such--a--thing--as--my--being--engaged?"

"Engaged! Why Robert Dalrymple Skittles! You are not acquainted with a single boy in town!"

"I know it mother. But this is a man."

The truth flashed, at once, upon Mrs. Skittles. "I told your father, years ago, when we talked of hiring this house that it never worked well to live under the landlord's eye, and now see what has come of it! To think, after all we have done for you that you should disregard our wishes at the first temptation. Ready to leave your poor papa, and no matter anything about your poor mother,--I won't mention her. Ready to leave home and school and go over and keep house for Mr. Mellis! You can sit up there in your fine drawing-room and see your mother washing dishes by the kitchen window."

"Oh mother, mother!" cried Dalrymple. "Don't go on so. I only asked about being engaged. I had not thought of all the dreadful things you are talking about."

"What ails my pet?" interrupted Mr. Skittles, coming into the room, his honest face troubled at the sight of the unusual tears in Dallie's sunny eyes. "Don't say anything about it, mother," whispered Dallie. "This is the last of it. Of course, it is all out of the question and I could not leave you."

A smile of satisfaction came over the mother's face. "Oh, Dalrymple is alright, father," said she. "She was crying, silly child, at the thought of leaving home supposing she should ever be married. I tell her soon enough to cry when the time comes."

The next morning, Mrs. Skittles and Dollie could not help noticing the unusual expression of Mr. Skittles' face after the carrier had left the morning mail. He did not look unhappy, but evidently, something serious was on his mind. At last, it came out.

"I have just had a letter from our landlord, Dallie," said her father tenderly. "You can guess what it is about, I suppose. Well, child, I'm not the one to hender ye. You've been a good child and the light of the house, and I've looked for this question to be put to me by somebody sooner or later. Your mother has tried to prevent anything or the sort, but even if she had kept you in her pocket-book--and dear knows how hard it is to get that open!--somebody would have spied my girl."

"Don't talk like a fool, Mr. Skittles," exclaimed his wife, fairly crying. "Dalrymple knows it is silly for a child like her to think of such things; and, in my state of health, how am I ever going to spare her, I would like to know? She wouldn't want to leave home herself, either, would you, Dalrymple? Wild horses wouldn't drag you, would they?"

"No, no," sobbed the girl, thoroughly humiliated. This new, sudden vision of love and marriage was as startling as it was delightful, and was naturally regarded by her as forbidden fruit when thus dragged into the dazzling light and ridiculed by her mother. Silly or not, most girls of seventeen and eighteen have their heroes. Perhaps the admiration may be at most a distant sentiment for somebody they do not know even to speak to. In this case Dallie's landlord had ever been in her estimation like a prince in an enchanted castle.

She had far too humble an opinion of herself to suppose he cared in the least for her, but she loved to look out upon his beautiful grounds and at the fine mansion she could see from her chamber windows and try to fancy how the beautiful rooms she had never seen were furnished. Secretly, she thought him the finest-looking person she had ever seen, and, though she always dreaded to answer the bell when he came for the rent, she cherished every tone of his voice and every word he spoke from one month to another.

As for Mr. Mellis, he had not lived to the age of twenty-eight without an affaire du coeur or two of his own, but those had resulted unfortunately. Both ladies in these cases proved unworthy. For a couple of years he had turned his back on society and devoted himself to business. The little time he had spent at home was generally in his own room and, from its windows he could not only see his own lovely garden but the humble home of his tenant, Mr. Skittles. It was a pretty picture that often met his eyes;--this dazzlingly beautiful girl, as modest as she was beautiful, tripping about the kitchen, carrying dishes from the sink to the pantry; or, on baking says with bib apron and sleeves rolled up, cooking as deftly as her mother.

Prettier still was it to see her helping her father in the garden, for then she seemed the happiest, and her light laugh rang out as joyously as a bird's song. Mr. Mellis' proposal however, was almost as unexpected to himself as it was to Dallie. A sudden impulse prompted him to say what he did, but it was an impulse seconded by sober afterthought. "I should have spoken to her father first," he reflected, and made the amende honorable by writing a most respectful request to Mr. Skittles that he would favorably consider him as a suitor for his daughter's hand.

As we have seen, Mr. Skittles was willing to forget his own comfort for the sake of his daughter's good, but Mrs. Skittles, though secretly flattered that their landlord admired Dalrymple could not bring her mind for an instant to think of giving up her daughter, and Dallie was in such subjection to her mother's will that she did not presume to question it. The result was that Mrs. Skittles carried the day. She persuaded her husband that Dalrymple was distressed and alarmed at the idea of marrying anybody.

Mr. Mellis received a respectful letter from Mr. Skittles conveying the reply that his daughter was yet too much of a child to know her own mind and that both she and her mother did not favor the marriage. "I kinder hated to send that letter, Dallie," he remarked, that evening after the decisive missive had been forwarded. "I don't never want to get red of you Dallie, as far as that goes, but Mr. Mellis is a fine man, and one of these days, ef you and he make it up, I am not the one to say no. You can't keep your father and mother always with you, my child."

Dallie, distressed now beyond measure, fled from the table to her own little chamber. She glanced out upon the "enchanted castle," but the sight only gave her pain. She seemed forever shut out from the right to admire and enjoy the beautiful flowers and terraced slopes again. In a few days Mr. Skittles received a brief business note from Mr. Mellis announcing that he was about to leave town to travel abroad for an indefinite absence and that Mr. Skittles could hand the rent money to his agent, giving the address. Mr. Mellis closed with a regret that his late proposal had been unwelcome and trusted that Mr. S's daughter would ultimately gain the happiness in life she deserved.

The mansion in sight of the Skittles' windows was closed within a week. Beggar boys stole the pears and grapes and trampled down the rare flowers with no one to molest unless a policeman chanced to be in sight. And no tidings of their landlord came to the family in the house on the backstreet.

Dallie's father was a painter, a house painter, I mean, not an artist. Among Mrs. Skittles numerous woes, not the slightest was this that she must always breathe an atmosphere of oil and turpentine. If she chanced to pass a freshly-painted house, the Dalrymple nose would become perceptibly elevated and she would exclaim "Dear me! Mr. Skittles! How that brings you to mind!" Poor Mr. Skittles did his best to keep his business from annoying his wife. He had established an impromptu dressing-room behind the woodshed door, where an unspotted suit hung by day and a painter's blouse and overalls by night.

He was careful not to appear in this last regalia in the presence of his wife. But he was always welcome to Dallie, whether he wore the tidy, well-kept suit of brown or was covered with as many paint samples as an artist's pallet. She had a childish fashion of talking to the familiar brown suit when her father was away. Mr. Skittles had few holidays. He was always striving to procure some luxury his wife was whining for and it was necessary to keep steadily at work to supply both luxuries and necessities.

The Westcott Dalrymples had, it is true, an aristocratic reputation, but very little money, and the fact was, though she would never own it--Matilda Dalrymple had really never been so comfortable in wordly goods as since she married the industrious painter, Hiram Skittles. There was to be a union picnic of the Sunday schools a few weeks after Mr. Mellis set forth on his travels.

"I think it is my duty to go and take Dalrymple," whined Mrs. Skittles at the breakfast table. "Though I feel such a care always when she is with me. She does get stared at so, and then some of those superintendents think it is their duty to shake hands with everybody and introduce everybody. I am afraid that a chance acquaintance made at such a time might make trouble with Dalrymple."

"Oh mother, mother!" exclaimed Dalrymple impatiently for her, "If you would only let me alone!"

"That is the way!" wailed Mrs. Skittles. "That is all the thanks we poor mothers have for our solicitude." Dallie was swift with apologies and comforting words, but there was deeper regret when she spoke to her father. "Oh, papa dear! If only you were going too I should be so glad!"

"I know it, pet, and so should I. But Mr. Bingham is in a tearing hurry to get his house painted. He just stands below and bosses us men until we are nearly crazy. I couldn't get off before afternoon, no how. I'll try to then, if it is a possible thing. Look out for me by the 1 o'clock train, dear."

"What's that?" piped Mrs. Skittles from the kitchen door. She held her handkerchief to her face, for her husband was arrayed in his working clothes and she fancied she could already detect the obnoxious odor of turpentine. "What's that?" she repeated. "You going to the picnic! Well, I only hope you'll allow time to get off all trace of paint, or the day will be spoiled for me." The long suffering husband repressed a sharp reply which might justly enough have been flung back, and with one more good-by to Dallie, he was off.

Mrs. Skittles, with a martyr air dressed for the picnic. In her heart she was glad to go and Dallie well knew it. There was little of the belle now in the face of the nervous and faded woman, but she still cherished the belief that she was uncommonly good-looking, and claimed for herself at least half the admiring glances bestowed upon her beautiful daughter.

The morning passed gaily as mornings generally do at picnics. Fresh toilets are as yet unstained, babies have not become tired and cross, children are not overloaded with lemonade and ice cream, rash boys have not tumbled out of swings nor drowned themselves in the lakes, lovers have not yet quarreled;--in fact everything is just in that perfect state where anticipation has just met realization.

There was a pleasant confusion of table spreading. Some of the party were walking to the station to meet the incoming train which would bring an accession of picnicers. Dallie was one of these. She had established her mother comfortably upon a bench under the shady trees, for Mrs. Skittles was never one of the active workers on such occasions. Her constitution would not permit it, she said.

As Dallie drew near the station, the train had arrived and laughing groups were hurrying up to the picnic grounds. Dallie looked intently for her father, but was disappointed;--the good, honest face she had hoped to see was nowhere among the passengers. She turned about and was wearily retracing her steps when a boy accosted her. He had shot from the train the first one and had already made the tour of the grove, not finding the one he sought. Now, he put a yellow enveloped message in Dallie's trembling hand.

Dallie's was one of those natures that cannot faint and burden others in awful extremities. Before she opened the envelope, she experienced that fearful strangling in the throat that accompany the hearing of shocking news. She realized that the saddest thing that could happen to her was about to happen. This swift premonition prepared her somewhat for his brief message from her family physician. "Your father fell from a staging--dangerously hurt. Come a once." A.F. THORNE, M.D.

Grief and anxiety were now at their height, and now torture added its sting, for it was simply torture to tell Mrs. Skittles what had happened and endure the selfish plaints she uttered. Strongest of Dallie's sensations was the unbroken prayer--"Oh, spare him till we get home!" That prayer was answered. The poor girl was in time,--only in time to hear his good-by. "God bless you, my little Dallie! I wouldn't a shocked your mother in this way if I could a helped it. It was the staging give way--not I. The men will tell you so. God take care of you both and He'll comfort you yet, Dallie, after many days."

"He did not address any special remarks to me," moaned the widow to a neighbor a few days later. "It was all Dallie with him, first and last."

"Lucky your husband had his life insured," observed the neighbor, changing the subject pleasantly.

"Yes--for my benefit," sighed the widow complacently. Dallie would have none of this "blood money" as she felt it to be. For once in her life, she would have her own way. She insisted upon earning her own living. She applied for a vacancy as a book-keeper, but, before engaging in the place, a position as teacher was offered her in the primary school. Dallie loved little children, and on assuming the role of teacher, she blossomed into a dignity and enthusiasm that left nothing to be desired in the opinion of both scholar and supervisor.

But though happy when busy in the school-room, her heart sank like lead when she came in sight of her own dear home. Sometimes, she would linger in the wood-shed and whisper fondly to the brown suit that still hung in its accustomed place behind the door. "Poor, blamed, banished papa!" she would cry, and put the empty sleeves around her neck and dry her hot tears against them. Then she would suppress her emotion and go in to cheer up who mother who always saved for Dalrymple a list of the domestic discomforts of the day,--all of her own unhappy moods and tenses--all the failings of long suffering Cressy, the maid-of-all-work. And then as a finale she would moan the refrain of all her grief,--"If your poor papa had only lived!"

Friends and neighbors often reiterated a part of this regret--"If Mr. Skittles had only lived," with the additional remark, "and if Mrs. Skittles had only been taken." It is a mystery indeed that generally the brightest, the best, and most useful members of a family are first allowed entrance to the Better Home.

Dallie grew only the lovelier under the trying discipline. True, the old, glad expression had gone--the pink in her cheeks was fainter and the droop of her shoulders and her languid walk showed she was overworking and lacked the inspiration of love. Months grew to years. Changes came to other homes. Many of Dallie's old school-mates went to homes of their own. It was rumored that Mr. Mellis had given up his law business entirely and would devote himself to mining interests in a distant land. Subsequently, the report came that he had lost everything. One confirmation of this report was that Mrs. Skittles was notified to pay the rent money into the hands of a new agent.

Strangers soon took possession of the neighboring mansion which held poor Dallie's vain dreams. The familiar garden was speedily transformed into a very different looking spot. Most of the old shrubs were uprooted,--the terrace graded into one velvet slope; and, on its bank, the skillful gardener, before many weeks had formed in rich mosaic of foliage plants,--a brilliant cross. It seemed to Dallie that it rested on her heart rather than on the green earth. The mansion was lively with voices, young and old, but the children were seldom permitted in the grounds where the old English gardener held sway. When they went out for an airing, they were too elaborately dressed to play, and a capped and aproned nurse walked beside them to see that their toilettes were not disarranged.

On one of the rare occasions when the little ones walked in the garden, with the nurse saying "shoo" on this side and the gardener saying "shoo" on the other, as if they were so many trespassing chickens, Mrs. Skittles sat by Dallie's chamber window, mournfully gazing out upon the scene. "Look here a minute, Dalrymple!" said she. "Don't you think Squire Mellis would have let his children play there? He liked those old-fashioned snowball bushes and lilacs and the roses--what a master hand he was for roses! Oh, Dalrymple, I'm afraid I made a mistake. But you see I wanted you all to myself. Will you forgive me, child?"

"Don't speak of it, poor mother!" said Dallie, "It can't be helped now."

"But, Dalrymple," persisted her mother. "I must say something. Did you ever have any other beau but him? Oh, Dalrymple, what if you should be an old maid!"

A look of scorn that was strange to Dallie's sweet face contracted her lips for an instant, but it gave place instantly to her usual, noble expression. "Don't worry about that, mother," she said. "There could never be but one love for me, any more than there could be more than one papa."

"As to that," said the widow, with a silly smile, "I may say that you have had more than one chance of another papa and I have not decided what answer I shall give to old Dr. Thorne on the subject. Don't be foolish, Dalrymple."

Oh, the bitterness of having a mother so unlike in every respect that there could be no sympathy! Yet before the sacred name of mother, Dallie could check an indignant reply. "It is not pleasant to speak of anything so unpleasant and unlikely, mamma," said she gently and walked out of the room, lest she should say more. From this time, Mrs. Skittles' thoughts centered upon a new worry,--"What if Dalrymple should be an old maid."

The poor girl had cause to blush more than once because of her mother's attempts at matchmaking. When the new minister, in his round of pastoral invitation, called at "the house on the back street," Mrs. Skittles astonished him with her remark,--"What do you think, Mr. Ballard! I was engaged at sixteen, and married at eighteen, and here's my daughter, still in the market at twenty-eight!" Of course, the minister was disgusted with the widow's evident angling, but he observed the closer and with increasing admiration the daughter in question.

In fact, he gave Dallie the trouble of refusing him as she had refused many suitors before. Mrs. Skittles was none the wiser, though it might have soothed her troubled soul had she known that Dallie was appreciated. By the time Dallie was thirty a new trial came to her. She was obliged to give up her congenial occupation of teaching and devote herself entirely to her mother. The nervous tendencies which Mrs. Skittles had shown for years, now developed in alarming proportions and were pronounced as insanity.

"You are wrong," urged a friendly neighbor, as Dallie declared her intention to take care of her mother herself. "You have given up your whole life to her, already. Now, she does not know one person from another. She would kill you in one minute, when her raving moods are upon her. Why will you do it?"

"She is my mother," said Dallie simply, "and she is all I have in the world to care for." And care for she did till the tortured, raving spirit slept in heavenly rest, its disease forever cured,--its sins forgiven, and, let us hope, its power of tormenting taken away by Him who of old cast the devils out of women, and men as well. The day she died, Mrs. Skittles' reason returned for one brief glimmer. "Poor Dalrymple!" she sighed. "God will make it up to you after so many days."

Shortly after her mother died, Dallie received a notification from the agent to whom she was accustomed to hand the rent, that the house she occupied had again been sold and that she must look for a new home, as the present owner wished to take possession as soon as possible. Poor Dallie! How she loved the little home where all her life had been spent. How could she give it up! She fairly broke down as she never had done before, and all her woes seemed dissolving into tears that would have their way.

As she was thus overcome with this last grief, Dr. Thorne happened to call and of course she had to explain her trouble. After a few moments' consideration, the good man said: "Don't be so down-hearted about it, Miss Dallie. I have an idea. Maybe this man that has bought the house would let you retain a room or two. I know,--he hasn't much of a family and he is kind-hearted and accommodating, I promise you. I suppose you don't feel much like meeting strangers, but I shall ask him to call round here this very evening and we will have this matter attended to without delay."

"Oh, I don't dare to hope!" smiled Dallie through her tears, but it was plain she did hope very strongly, for she had known Dr. Thorne so many years and he was not a man to offer unlikely encouragement. After tea, when Cressy had washed the dishes and gone out, Dallie went about the dear old home, from room to room, talking to each familiar spot as if it were a cognizant spirit.

"Oh, I hope I shan't have to give you up! Dr. Thorne says perhaps I may stay." The door-bell startled her. "The new owner!" she exclaimed. It chanced that Cressy had carelessly left the front door ajar, and immediately after ringing, the new owner saw this opportunity of entering which he improved and took possession at once. Took possession not only of the dear home itself but of its mistress' trembling little hands, as she was coming from the bright sitting-room into the shaded hall.

"Oh, Dimple!" he cried, glad to notice that the alarm in her face was giving place to utter joy--"After so many, many days!" We can imagine what long and interesting stories each had to tell the other--stories of over fifteen hard years. At last, they both felt that dying prayers had been answered and that God had, indeed made it up to them "After many days." They felt so truly, but the less sanctified neighbors sometimes remarked that Mrs. Skittles surely had took more than belonged to her when, without other reason than her unwillingness to part from her daughter she forced her to give up a lover, in every way desirable, so that the brightest days of youth were lost to them both.

However there is not now a happier pair in ----- than Mr. and Mrs. Mellis,--though early youth is gone and wealth is gone. They even looked serenely and without envy on the English gardener's floral abomination on the velvet slope that they can see from their kitchen windows. They are happy that they can spend their lives together in "the little house on the back street." THE END.

#ladies home journal #victorian literature #victorian #literature #american #1880s #1885 #19th century

[theapprenticeofthanatos]

TAoT: Chapter 18: Lakeside Conversations

Danny trudged out of the woods and towards the Big House. From the position of the sun in the sky, he guessed that it was mid-afternoon. There were a few campers milling about; some of them were saddling up horses at the stables, and as he passed by the archery range Danny saw Sunny and Aurora practicing with their bows. There was no sign of Annabeth, for which Danny was honestly grateful; he needed a long nap before dealing with anything else.

So, of course, when Danny opened the front door to the Big House, he was greeted by Mr. D. The god was sitting at the round table again, but there were no cards this time. Instead, he held an open can of Diet Coke in his hands. He watched Danny as he entered the parlor.

“Ah, a pity.” Mr. D drawled. “I was hoping you wouldn’t come back.”

Danny groaned; Of course he’s here. “Me too, pal.” He glared at the god. “But here we are.”

Mr. D’s stare turned icy. “I suggest you watch your tone, young man.”

Yeah, Danny definitely wasn’t dealing with this. Since Mr. D already knew that Danny could turn invisible, Danny decided that it wouldn’t be a problem if he used that to his advantage now; so, he went invisible.

Mr. D’s eyes widened; Danny would even say that he looked freaked out. The god stood up, his Diet Coke forgotten on the table. He looked around the room from where he stood, searching for Danny. Finally, his eyes settled on the ceiling and his hands balled into fists. “Kataraméno paidí (‘cursed child’), come back here this instant!”

Danny rolled his eyes. I haven’t even moved, stupid. He took a step towards the stairs, trying to sneak silently past Mr. D, but the floor betrayed him and creaked under his foot.

Mr. D’s gaze snapped towards Danny, his eyes glowing a furious purple. Grape vines sprouted from the floorboards and slithered across the floor, as if they were searching for something to strangle. Danny stepped back nervously. Mr. D’s face was a deep shade of purple, similar to a grape.

“Turn visible right now,” Mr. D hissed. “Or so help me-”

The front door suddenly swung open and Chiron walked inside. His expression was rather calm, but it quickly turned to a look of alarm. “Mr. D, what are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m just having a polite conversation with Mr. Fenton, the little-”

“Dionysus, please.” Chiron interrupted sternly. “You made a promise. An oath.” Chiron glanced around the room as if he was searching for someone. “Danny, if you’re still here, please go to bed.”

Danny scowled. That's what he had been trying to do, but someone had prevented him from doing so. He stepped cautiously over the grape vines, growing more and more annoyed with each creak and groan of the squeaky old floorboards. Frustrated, Danny went ghost—still invisible, though the flash of light from his transformation gave away his location—and flew out of the room.

Mr. D’s angry voice echoed after him as he flew up the stairs: “Chiron, I’ve had it. He is not staying here…”

Danny could no longer hear Mr. D's voice by the time he reached the fourth floor. Landing in front of his bedroom door, Danny transformed back to his human form. He reached for the doorknob, but paused when he noticed a piece of paper with his name on it taped to the door. He pulled it down, unfolded it, and saw that it was a handwritten note.

Dear Danny,

I am very sorry for how I behaved earlier. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, and I didn’t mean to make you feel unsafe, or like you needed to run away. I know that I’ve been acting kind of strange, like when we were talking by the cabins yesterday, and at capture the flag last night, as well as at our sparring session this morning—I guess I should’ve asked you about your tattoo calmly instead of freaking out like that. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but I was hoping we could talk and I could at least explain my actions.

I hope you come back, and I hope that you can forgive me. If you want to, please meet me by the canoe lake before breakfast tomorrow.

—Annabeth

Danny sighed; he really didn’t know what to do about Annabeth, and he felt anxiety gnaw at him as he remembered Thanatos’ warning yet again. Did Annabeth know what his mark meant? Did she know anything about apprentices? Would she try and get him to use his powers against his will? No… He argued with himself. I may not know her well, but I can tell she’s not like that…

He sighed again and thumped his head against the door. He just… he just needed sleep before doing or thinking about anything else. Danny entered his room and kicked the door shut behind him, before flopping onto the bed and promptly falling asleep.

When Danny awoke, he heard birds chirping outside his window. The clock on the wall read 6 A.M. His sleep had been restful, but boring; no dreams, only the darkness behind his eyelids. He did feel way better than yesterday, though.

Danny groaned as he rolled out of bed and reached into his duffel bag. He couldn’t sleep any longer, so he decided that he would call his friends and family and tell them about his camp experience thus far (well, he would tell his friends. As for his family… he’d come up with something.)

When he couldn’t find his phone, Danny pulled the bag up onto the bed to look inside. Digging through the bag yielded no new results. He turned the bag upside down, dumping the contents onto the bed. Sorting through the mess did no good, either; same with rummaging around the empty interior.

Finding nothing, Danny looked through his clothes and toiletries again, hoping his phone just got caught on a shirt or something. “Aw, come on…” He grumbled. “Where’d it go?” He searched through his hoodie pockets, again finding nothing. Did I even pack the dumb thing?

Danny thought back to when he was packing his duffel two days ago. He remembered plugging his phone in to charge overnight, and he remembered unplugging it when he woke Friday morning, but… he did not remember grabbing it before leaving with Thanatos. “Crap.”

Danny sighed in resignation and shoved his belongings back into his duffel bag, before getting ready for the day. He knew his parents would be upset at him for leaving his phone at home, but there was nothing he could do about it now. After pulling on a clean t-shirt and jeans and making sure the elastic bandage was wrapped securely around his arm, Danny headed downstairs.

As Danny reached the first floor, he was relieved to find that Mr. D was nowhere in sight; he really didn’t want to deal with the god after yesterday. He paused at the base of the stairs, listening for any signs of life.

The lights were off in most of the house. Down the hallway, Danny could see light and hear opera music coming from an open door; he guessed that Chiron was awake and doing office work, or something boring like that. Danny decided to head outside before anything happened, like Mr. D showing up again.

The sun was rising over the crest of the hill as Danny stepped out onto the porch, its rays glittering off the scales of the dragon wrapped around the base of the large pine tree. There were no other campers outside, and the silence was almost eerie; luckily, Danny was used to eerie, and he decided to enjoy the peace and quiet with a nice walk.

He strolled lazily through the strawberry fields, enjoying the coolness of the dawn before the sun warmed the valley. He wondered what his schedule for camp was today. He didn’t really have an idea, since he… hadn’t really stuck around the day before.

Now that I think about it, I should probably go talk to Annabeth… He thought. I wonder if she’s even awake yet. Danny reached into the pocket of his jeans, feeling the note Annabeth had left him. He hadn’t even really noticed that he had folded it up and put it in his pocket; maybe that was his mind’s way of telling him to go talk with her. I may as well try and sort this out… He decided. It’s not like I can make things any worse.

And with that, Danny headed off towards the canoe lake.

As Danny neared the lake, he saw Annabeth sitting on the end of the dock, looking out over the still water. She looked up when he stopped next to her, and he saw that her eyes were bloodshot, as if she hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep last night.

“Hey,” Danny greeted awkwardly.

“Hi.” Annabeth replied as she looked back across the lake. Danny sat down next to her, and she spoke again after a moment. “I’m really sorry about how I acted yesterday. And… the day before.”

Danny nodded. “I… I dunno if I’d say, ‘it’s okay,’ but I get why you responded like that.” He held his bandaged arm out in front of him. “I guess this is pretty weird.”

Annabeth looked at the bandage warily. “Why do you even have that? I mean, you don’t have to tell me,” She added hurriedly. “But…”

“It’s… not something I can really talk about.” Danny mumbled. “A-and it’s not that I don’t want to, but…” He trailed off, unsure of what to say.

Annabeth looked like she wanted to say something herself, but she didn’t, so they continued to look out over the water in awkward silence.

Danny broke the silence after a few minutes. “So, uhh… you said that you wanted to talk?”

Annabeth nodded and looked down at her hands as she began to fidget. “Yeah. I… I wanted to try and explain why I’ve been acting strange. There… used to be this kid at camp. You remind me a lot of him. He… he didn’t feel welcome at camp, and he left.” She had a faraway look in her eyes, as if she were remembering something.

“We looked for him for weeks, but… we never found him. I guess it’s just that… you remind me so much of him, that I don’t…” She trailed off. “I’m afraid of scaring you off, too.” She turned towards Danny. “Camp is supposed to be a safe haven for kids like us. No one should feel unwelcome here.”

Danny took a moment to process her words. It was obvious that she regretted something about the kid she spoke about. I wonder who the kid was. Danny thought. What happened that made him feel like he had to leave? Where is he now?

Maybe… Another thought came to his mind. Maybe there was nowhere for him to stay. Danny thought back to the other day, when he had noticed the lack of a certain cabin. “Then why isn’t there a Hades cabin?” He asked.

Annabeth turned to him, surprise clear on her face.

“Earlier, when I said I’d never met a child of Hades…” Should I really tell her about this? “… I lied.” He admitted. He didn’t really know how to explain anymore without telling her about Nico…

“You shouldn’t tell others about that.” Annabeth said quietly. “That’s why I… acted strange when you mentioned Hades having children the other day. Do you know about the Pact of the Big Three?”

Danny blinked. No, he did not know about that. “No? What’s that?”

Annabeth nodded, as if she had expected that answer. “The Pact was a promise made by the Big Three—Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades—where they promised to never have any more mortal children.”

“Why’d they do that?” Danny asked.

“Children of the gods are powerful.” Annabeth explained. “Children of the Big Three? Even more so. Back during World War 2, their children were on opposing sides, and the effects were devastating. They made the pact afterwards, so that something like that wouldn’t happen again.”

“Okay…” Danny nodded; that made sense. But it still didn’t answer his first question. “Why doesn’t Hades have a cabin?”

“Because he doesn't have a throne on Olympus.” Annabeth answered. “Each cabin corresponds with a throne on Olympus. That’s why Hera and Artemis have cabins, even though they don’t have mortal children. Hades is only welcome there at the winter solstice.”

The winter solstice? Where have I… Danny froze as he remembered exactly where he had heard of that before; it was when Thanatos had told him about Zeus: “And get him to agree not to do anything to you until the winter solstice.”

What would Zeus have done to Danny if Thanatos hadn’t intervened? What would he still do to him at the solstice?

Danny decided that he didn’t want to think about that at the moment. “So, how do things work around here?” He asked, quickly changing the subject. “I mean, there’s a lot of kids here, but I’m guessing they didn’t all come just for spring break like I did.”

“Camp Half-Blood is year round for quite a few of the people here.” Annabeth explained. If she noticed the abrupt subject change, she didn’t comment on it. “Demigods of major gods and goddesses attract more monsters, so they usually stay at camp where it’s safe.”

Danny nodded. “So, what about you? I mean, are you a year round camper?”

“No.” Annabeth replied. “I mean, I used to be, but I decided to try living with my dad for the school year. I’m just here for… a project I’m working on with Clarisse.”

“What kind of project?” Danny asked.

“I… can’t talk about it.”

Danny eyed Annabeth; that… sounded suspicious. Not that he was one to talk. Danny decided to change the subject again. “So, who’s your godly parent?” He faltered. “I mean, not to be rude. Is that rude to ask?”

Annabeth smiled at Danny. “It’s fine. I’m a daughter of Athena, goddess of wisdom. My cabin is number six, the gray one over there.” She pointed towards the cabins.

“Wow, that’s…” Danny ran a hand through his hair as he tried to process what Annabeth had said. “That’s just… so crazy to think about. I mean, like, I’ve known about all this for months now, but… it’s still so unbelievable.”

Annabeth frowned. “Known about camp? Or all the ‘Greek legends being real’?”

“Uhhh…” I mean, both, but she’d be more suspicious if I knew about the camp and didn’t show up sooner. Danny thought. “The Greek stuff.”

“How were you able to survive out there for so long?” Annabeth asked, sounding surprised. “The monsters should have sensed you and hunted you down long ago.”

“I guess monsters don’t like Amity Park.” Danny mused.

Annabeth did a double take. “Wait. Amity Park, Minnesota? As in, the most haunted place in America?”

“Uhh… yeah?” Danny didn’t see what Annabeth was getting at.

“No wonder no satyrs came for you!” Annabeth said in amazement. “The scent of the Underworld likely covered your scent and scared off any satyrs or monsters within a hundred mile radius!”

“Huh,” Danny put a hand to his chin thoughtfully. “I guess that makes sense.”

“What’s it like living there?” Annabeth asked excitedly. “I couldn’t imagine living around so many ghosts. Speaking of, have you ever met that one ghost kid?”

Danny paled. This was not a turn that he wanted the conversation to take. “Uhh, you’ve… heard about him?”

“Yeah, I read about him while researching for one of my projects. He seems… strange.” Annabeth looked thoughtful. “I mean, from what I know of ghosts, they’re not usually seen as friendly. I’ve only met one, myself, and he was… not very nice. But that ghost guy—what’s his name, anyway?”

“Uhh, Phantom.” Danny said hesitantly. “Just Phantom. Not Inviso-Bill.”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow at that, but continued. “Anyway, he’s… weird. I didn’t read much, but what I did was pretty divided. It either said he was a hero, or a public nuisance. Personally, I just found it strange that a ghost would be protecting a town where most of the inhabitants fear him.”

Danny’s gaze turned distant as he looked out over the water. “Yeah, but… maybe he really cares about the people around him, and wants to keep them safe.”

Annabeth looked at Danny with an odd expression. “You say that like you know him personally.”

Danny glanced back at her from the corner of his eye. “… I like to think I do.”

Annabeth regarded him curiously for a moment longer, before changing the subject. “Tell me about life in Amity Park.”

Danny was happy to tell Annabeth about that. He told her about his friends and the fun things they did together (excluding the ghost hunting.) Annabeth laughed when Danny mentioned Tucker’s failed attempt at creating his own body spray, and smiled when he said that Sam was an avid animal rights activist; she said that her friend, Grover, would probably get along well with Sam. Annabeth listened attentively as Danny told her about the constant ghost attacks, and how Phantom always saved the day. She was especially surprised when she heard some of the things that ghosts had done to the residents of Danny’s hometown, such as being pulled into the Ghost Zone that one time with Pariah Dark.

“Sounds like Amity Park is an interesting place to live.” Annabeth said once Danny was finished speaking.

“Yeah, it is.” Danny said with a smile. “So, what’s your life like?”

Annabeth tilted her head. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve told you about my friends,” Danny turned towards her, resting an elbow on his knee and his chin on his hand. “Tell me about yours.”

Annabeth looked up at the sky as she thought for a moment. “Well, I’ve made many friends since I arrived at camp years ago. Some have left, others… died.”

Danny noticed her pause. “What about the ones who are still here?” He asked quietly.

Annabeth smiled fondly as she listed several people; campers, satyrs, and a tree nymph. “Oh, and then there’s Percy. He’s at school right now.”

Danny thought back to when he first arrived at camp. “Is he the one that you mistook me for?”

Annabeth nodded. “Yeah. From a distance, you two look very similar. Though, he has sea-green eyes and is a bit taller than you. And he’s pretty tan.”

Danny saw the faint blush that dusted Annabeth’s cheeks as she spoke about Percy. “Do you have a crush on him?” He asked with a smirk.

“What? No!” Annabeth said quickly, her face quickly turning red.

Danny gasped playfully. “You do!”

Annabeth’s blush deepened. “Do not!” Before Danny could tease her anymore, Annabeth placed her hand firmly on his shoulder. “I will shove you into this lake if you say another word.”

Danny raised his hands in surrender, a grin on his face. “Okay, okay. My lips are sealed.”

“Good!”

Without either of them realizing, a good amount of time had passed as they talked. The sun had risen in the sky, and campers were now up and about, cleaning their cabins and getting ready for the day.

Annabeth stood up and dusted herself off. “Thanks for meeting with me, Danny. It was nice talking to you. I’ve gotta go help my cabin with morning duties, but I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah, later.” Danny waved as Annabeth walked back to the cabins. He turned back to the lake and smiled to himself; it had been a bit of a rough start to his stay, but maybe camp wouldn’t be so bad after all.

First: Prologue

Previous: Chapter 17

Next: Chapter 19

#danny phantom #danny fenton #mr d #dionysus #chiron #annabeth chase #taot #the apprentice of thanatos #lotu #legacy of the underworld #percy jackson and the olympians #fanfiction #crossover fanfiction

[earthselement]

2024's Top Backyard Landscaping Design Trends

Hello, fellow green thumbs! As we gear up for 2024, we at Earth’s Element are buzzing with excitement about the future of landscape design. The Pacific Northwest is a playground for us, with its unique climate and diverse ecosystems. So, let’s dive into some of the top trends that are set to shape our backyard landscaping and hardscape in the coming year.

First up, we’ve got Hortifuturism. Think bold, bright colors and elements that seem straight out of a sci-fi movie. It’s all about pushing the boundaries of what’s possible in a garden, creating spaces that are not only beautiful but also sustainable and forward-thinking.

Next, we’re seeing a rise in Low Carbon Landscaping. This trend is all about using local plant varieties and investing time and effort into growing herbs, veggies, and fruit in your own garden to reduce carbon footprint. It’s all about creating landscapes that are not only beautiful but also kind to our planet.

One of our favorites is the concept of Backyard Retreats. This trend involves transforming your backyard into a luxurious oasis, complete with comfortable seating areas, outdoor kitchens, and even water features. It’s about creating a space where you can relax, entertain, and enjoy the beauty of the outdoors.

We’re also loving the trend of Incorporating Metals into landscape design. Whether it’s in shade structures, artistic panels, water features, or planter boxes, metal elements add a modern touch to any landscape.

A trend that’s particularly relevant to the Pacific Northwest is the use of Native Plants. Native plants not only add natural diversity to your garden but are also beneficial for local wildlife. Some great options for the Pacific Northwest include Douglas fir, sword fern, salmonberry, Oregon grape, and red flowering currant.

Hanging Gardens are growing in popularity. They maximize vertical space, add beauty, grow food and create privacy. Plants with draping forms often require less maintenance due to increased airflow, preventing rotting. It also allows plants to naturally spill and trail as their vines grow.

Last but not least, Edible Gardens are becoming increasingly popular as people seek to combine functionality with aesthetics. Mixing edible plants with the rest of your landscape rather than containing them in raised beds adds an element of surprise and practicality to your garden.

As we move into 2024, these trends offer exciting opportunities to transform our landscapes into spaces that are not only visually stunning but also sustainable and in harmony with our local environment. Whether you’re planning a complete landscape overhaul or just looking to make a few updates, these trends provide plenty of inspiration.

Want to learn more? Check out our full article on 2024’s Landscape Trends over at Earth’s Element

Home | Article

#hardscaping #landscape design #earthselement

[shadowqueen402]

Here is the fifth fruit I colored in!

The name of this fruit is called 'Midnight Slumbers'. It gets its name due to its capabilities.

This fruit is seen growing in Chapter 3, Chapter 5, Chapter 8, and Chapter 9. Like the grapes in the real world, it is grown on vines.

The fruit has an exterior of varying shades of blue to resemble the night sky. On the inside, it is silvery-white to resemble the moon.

The taste is described as similar to fruit punch flavored juice. So it is a mixture of sweet and tart at the same time. The texture is rather chewy.

It is used primarily for tea and is best suited for Visitors that suffer from insomnia.

Anyone that consumes this fruit will fall asleep for seven to eight hours. It's highly recommended that this fruit is only eaten at night.

#balan wonderworld #color #fresh fruit

[bumblebeeappletree]

In a garden there are different types of shade - you can make the most of it by clever plant selection. Subscribe 🔔 http://ab.co/GA-subscribe

At the height of summer, plants can soon become stressed in full sun but shade needs to be considered all year round as all plants, to some degree, need light to grow.

Deciduous trees provide seasonal shade - filtered light in summer and more sun in winter. Under the canopy there are also areas that get angled morning and afternoon sun, which can be intense, so you need to choose plants that can tolerate those extremes.

Josh has succulents – Aloe and Pig’s Ear – in this position under his Gleditsia tree and they are tough enough to cope. Other options are Lomandra and Neoregelia Bromeliads, although different varieties have different sun tolerance; if the leaves are bleaching that’s a sure sign a bromeliad is getting too much sun, but Josh’s are doing well so he adds another for colour contrast.

Evergreen Sugar Gums provide dappled light on the eastern side of Josh’s house. They provide year-round dry shade and a number of native grasses thrive in this: lomandra, sword-sedge and dianellas.

A bare patch at the back will be filled with other tried-and-tested species: Correa ‘Bicheno Bells’, Acacia cognata ‘Limelight’ and Dianella ‘Cassa Blue’.

Using small plants means you only need to dig small holes, which minimizes disturbance to the tree roots.

Controllable Shade such as removable shade sails are good for areas near the house where you want summer protection but winter light. Another option is to grow a deciduous tree or vine. Josh has trained a grapevine over his pergola, which provides summer shade, autumn colour, fruit and still allows in winter sun! It can be trimmed to provide exactly the right level of shade to grow a range of productive plants underneath, such as herbs, a makrut lime and blueberry. These will take full sun but thrive in light shade and need less watering in the hotter months.

Featured Plants:

HONEY LOCUST - Gleditsia triacanthos *

ALOE - Aloe ‘Gemini’

PIG’S EAR - Cotyledon orbiculata ‘Silver Waves’ *

SPINY-HEADED MAT-RUSH - Lomandra longifolia cv.

BROMELIAD - Neoregelia cv.

DWARF SUGAR GUM - Eucalyptus cladocalyx ‘Nana’

COASTAL SWORD-SEDGE - Lepidosperma gladiatum

BLACK-ANTHER FLAX-LILY - Dianella revoluta

NATIVE FUCHSIA - Correa pulchella‘Bicheno Bells’

- Acacia cognata ‘Limelight’

BLUE FLAX-LILY - Dianella caerulea ‘Cassa Blue’

GRAPE ‘PERLETTE’ - Vitis vinifera cv.

MAKRUT LIME - Citrus hystrix

* Check before planting: this may be an environmental weed in your area

Filmed on Whadjuk Country | Perth, WA

#gardening australia #Australia #Solarpunk #gardening #garden #shade #light #plants #flowers #garden design #garden planning #fruit #berries #herbs #trees #Perth #WA #Whadjuk #Whadjuk Country #Youtube

[emblematicemblazer]

World building and theories of Engage

The environment of Lythos and The Somniel

'It's a peaceful area, where refreshing winds blow in the plateaus, and light and grass interweave.' That is the description of Lythos. The light and grass interweave is a reference to the mountainous environment the holy buildings are built upon. The Holy Land of Lythos and The Somniel are based upon the Meteora Monasteries complex. Meteora means 'between earth and god', I believe the description of Lythos is a reference to this. 

It is mentioned in Vander's support with Alfred that Queen Lumera grew and gifted windflowers. The conditions needed to grow wildflowers successfully are: rich, free draining soil and exposure to full sun or dappled shade. The 'light and grass interweave' part of the description suggests that Out his has the necessary condition. The map of Elyios shows lush greenery as well.

There are no beaches around the perimeter. The environment serves as natural protection from sea based invasion. To enter Lythos would require flying creatures, rock climbing or a rope and pulley system like the  monk's and nun's of the Meteora Monasteries complex used to transport people and goods up into the complex. There may have been winding pathways and stairways to assist as well.

Lythos is based on lithos which means white stone. All of the cliff and rock faces contain white stone which is used in the architecture.

I spied many different species of trees around the place; olive trees, manna ash trees, heliotrope, pine trees and myrtle. Olive could have been used for furniture and carving. Olives are used in cooking and beauty. The heliotrope fits in nicely with the dun theme. The flowers of the tree turn to face the sun. 

Using the items found around the Somniel and the Cafe Terrace menu as clues I would suggest that various fruit trees grow such as oranges, apples and peaches. Nut bearing trees such as almond and walnut could also grow as well as grape vines. 

In the garden of Lythos castle there are thick green laurel hedges,a plant associated with the Greek sun god Apollo.  

Gardenia flowers and violets grow near the gazebo and bears breech grows around the columns in the Somniel 

#fire emblem engage #fe engage #The Holy land of lythos #the land of lythos #lythos #fe lumera #queen lumera #fe vander #the somniel

[plantanarchy]

The isn't the issue with invasive species is that they often overtake and negatively impact existing species or am I just misunderstanding what you mean with your post? /gen

I've made several so idk what post you're referencing or what you mean, but an invasive species is what you're saying, basically a non-native/alien species that has some kind of wide scale negative effect on the environment, unable to be controlled by local predators and that outcompetes natives.

Garlic mustard in the US is one most people know, which is considered invasive because it is allelopathic, meaning while growing it releases substances that do not allow other plants to grow. Japanese honeysuckle, Japanese knotweed, and multiflora rose are all invasive in my area because they take over and choke out ecosystems.

BUT native species can also do this in certain circumstances. Native wild grape can be very aggressive and choke out trees and so can Virginia Creeper and Poison Ivy in the right circumstances. All three are vines adapted to shaded woodlands that scale trees to find sunlight above.. so when allowed in open sunny areas, they can take over.