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Stuck in this paradigm
Don't believe in paradise
This must be what Hell is like
There's got to be more, got to be more
Sick of this head of mine
Intrusive thoughts, they paralyze
Nirvana's not as advertised 🎵
SZA - Saturn

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senmut

AO3 Link | The Right Bait: Vierna's Tale (3352 words) by Merfilly
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Forgotten Realms, The Legend of Drizzt Series - R. A. Salvatore
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Vierna Do'Urden, Jarlaxle Baenre, Drizzt Do'Urden, Original Drow Character(s)
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Summary:

A priestess vanished before Do'Urden fell...

The Right Bait: Vierna's Tale

Vierna Do'Urden, saved from the death of her House by her questioning that had brought her to Vhaeraun's closer attention, was still in the process of regaining her abilities — in divine spell-craft.

Her physical capabilities remained sharp, now that Lolth's Sickness had been purged from her for abandoning the Church of her childhood. Jarlaxle saw that now, as she reacted to something she had placed as wrong about him, despite him having adopted the local clothes and the lack of his distinctive hat.

The eye patch was still in place, which clicked for her as she settled back from facing him with her dagger in hand, just off the main thoroughfare with markets and vendor carts.

"Far from your usual grounds?" Vierna questioned, the dagger disappearing once more. Jarlaxle had no doubt that she was more than ready to defend herself even yet, a true tribute to the legacy of the man he was here to converse with her over.

"They're a bit messy right now, what with the chaos of two upper Houses dying in such recent years," he said gamely enough. "I am quite pleased to see you were as smart as the Weapon Master intimated over the years, and got out ahead of time."

She scowled… but was it over the mention of his lost lover, or the other news?

"Oh do settle, priestess," he said, managing to inflect the tone just as Zak always had when referring to her, and then Jarlaxle knew, because the anger was riding high. "After all, he spoke of you quite fondly, up until the night your former Matron took the Tenth position in the city."

It was a calculated risk… and the anger shifted briefly to regret before masking into polite interest only.

"Why are you here? If you'd been sent to fetch me back, this is not the approach your people would have taken," she reasoned.

"I had a chat with Dinin, the night that those who went with Briza and Tsinda Duskrym into the wilds returned — empty handed, and minus both clerics. It seems your wean-son is truly as elusive as the Ghost that sired him.

"And you."

Vierna took a very slow breath, and Jarlaxle wondered just what she thought of the boy, let alone her complicated feelings about Zaknafein.

"And?" she drawled, hinting at impatience with him.

"He purchased his way into my merry little band of mercenaries by retrieving a certain body from your ancestral crypt. Unfortunately for me, I do not currently possess a cleric of high enough standing that I could trust with the small matter of breathing life into that corpse."

Her eyes searched him fiercely over that.

"I have not — yet — attained that proficiency with my new place," she admitted.

"But you will." Jarlaxle smiled at her. "Care to commit to the deed now, or should I fish for another?"

"I do not know that he would even listen to me," Vierna admitted. "As I did not listen to him for far too long, despite his attempts to show me better."

Jarlaxle nodded. "He will listen, if you speak the right words. Do we have a deal?"

Vierna set her jaw and spine in a way that was all the best of Zaknafein and the unlamented Malice in one. "Yes."

"You can send to me, when you feel you have the mastery of the ritual again." He gave her a short bow, mocking in some ways, before turning off to go his own way. He rather doubted it would take her long to rise to the occasion. A decade, at most, if he had to wager on it.

While Vierna had initially been guided to Rilauven, her need for experience had been a factor in sending her to one of Vhaeraun's enclaves above the faerzress line, in a city that held two very different factions of His followers. His belief that her cunning, honed by keeping herself alive in that spider hole for so long despite having a zealot for a sister and a very dangerous Matron would serve Him well was strong.

She proved Him correct, when she managed to have the city powers bring down the head of the rival faction, keeping drow hands clean.

None of them expected the choice to move her there to have personal complications, even with her now able to freely communicate with the mercenaries of Menzoberranzan, to keep Jarlaxle aware of her progress in skill and acquiring the offerings necessary.

Drizzt, a full half decade after settling into the rhythm of life among goodly drow, had gotten to where he was willing to leave his son with Rylla and accompany Shana on her trade runs, finally. The pair of women had adopted them into their household, once Shana realized that Drizzt eagerly wanted to properly parent… and had no idea how. The trader had minded young ones frequently over the decades, always willing to foster without any urge to have one of her own.

Rylla appreciated that approach to family, and accepted it as part of her wife's ways.

This was the first run they had made to Skullport since he began going with them, and Drizzt had found the trip here exhilarating in some ways, using his skills to end threats in the passages of Undermountain.

His trip above, wearing a ring of glamour had not, in any way, prepared him for Skullport. This city was in perpetual shadow, rising up within its cavern, everything from well-buttressed (magical) dwellings to stick-built shanties looking forever on the verge of crumbling apart. There was a distinctly present sense of furtiveness and evil-doing that crackled along Drizzt's senses, but he betrayed none of his distaste for it.

The party of four drow swaggering their way, clothing and weapons gaudy with poor taste and too many coins, caught his attention immediately. He stayed loose and easy in his skin, not even shifting his body language to make the swords more visible.

Behind him, the rest of their people were staying just as relaxed, confident in the youngest fighter to ever hold Rylla to a draw, repeatedly.

"Gotta pay the toll if you want to do the trade," the foremost one said, leering at Drizzt in a way that struck fire along Drizzt's memories of graduation.

"No." Drizzt said the one word casually. When it led to the quartet blustering, he steadily walked toward the first speaker, eyes boring into that one with a promise of danger.

"You think you can bring your goodly little prats in here and not pay for the privilege?" the speaker snapped as his nerves led to a bit of sweat on his brow.

"I do not think it. I know it." Drizzt stopped at what would be easy lunging distance for himself… or them, if they knew how to use the gaudy basket hilt cutlasses.

It wasn't the talker that tried first, playing directly into Drizzt's hands. The clumsy lunge, with a dirk, had Drizzt spin away, catch the back of tunic and breeches in the man's passing, and then redirect his momentum into the other three.

The bullies didn't take the hint that this was no ordinary drow they were trying to intimidate.

Drizzt handed each one a cut across their dominant hand, a barely there poke in the wrist of their off hands, and in two cases, a punch with a hilt to the face.

The four took off running, yelling invectives back at them, but retreating nonetheless.

"Cousin," Shana said with amusement, "you had too much fun doing that."

"We'll need to keep a solid watch, for retaliation, but yes," he answered her unrepentantly.

"Silk Cutter," one of the guards said, facing Vierna with more respect than she'd seen on first arriving here. Something about applying her craft to removing a dangerous target had definitely changed attitudes. "You asked to be told when the Dancers returned to the marketplace."

Vierna nodded to that. "Thank you, Chaurah."

Her use of the woman's name gave her another psychological edge, and the guard actually meant the inclined head her way before going off to her post. That let Vierna go and change into robes that would afford her some protections from the threats outside the Temple, to go learn if the ridiculously good followers of Eilistraee were trading a specific component at less costly a price than most who traded in Waterdeep wanted.

The High Cleric had suggested that they were more fair in dealings with the drow of the Temple… while avoiding Nisstyre's Dragon Hoard company most of the time.

She had her mask on beneath the hood of her cloak, obscuring more of who she was on the off-chance someone of the Dragon Hoard came seeking revenge. They would not, in fact, find that too simple a task to accomplish, she swore in her soul. She had found a mission, in the chance to restore her father to life, and a purpose, in helping the Temple here rise to be the dominant faction for the god she had accepted.

It did not take her long to reach the marketplace, and make out where the Dancers had set their wares. She still found it strange that there were more drow who were soft and kind like her wean-son/little brother had been.

That thought was high in her mind as she came to the stall being run by … Shana. That was the name she had been given for the drow woman that ran trade for the Dancers. It was as she looked over the assembled band, six in total, that her entire world narrowed down to a singular focus, because resting against the wagon behind this stall, keeping it from being open to both alleys, was a young drow fighter with his hair unbound.

Two swords hung from the belt, on either side of the stool he was perched on, and Vierna knew that face like she knew her own.

Only her long experience at never betraying her emotion (despite Drizzt being one who could, sometimes, push her past that) kept her from doing more than flicking her eyes back to the wares on display.

"No storax resin?" she finally asked, forcing her voice to be slightly higher than usual, and mimicking the dialect of Rilauven instead of Menzoberranzan.

"Not this trip, Priestess, but if I know there's a guaranteed sale, we could have it on the next run," Shana said, polite and honest in her words.

"I am running low, and prefer it for the incense I make." Vierna made a considering noise. "Bring a full crock, and I would be willing to trade you a painter's cup of pure ormu powder. I hear your community makes numerous pieces of art."

Shana did some conversions, and then settled to haggle, treating the Masked God's cleric as she would any other customer. Vierna wondered at that on one level. No adherent of Lloth would ever do business with a 'heretic' after all. She had to work at maintaining the vocal pretense, and a careful look toward her brother indicated that he was… apparently… remaining at rest while the other four kept watch.

When she had finished her deal, with the resin slated to come to her the next trading trip down in three months, Vierna made herself walk away, pondering just how to approach the fact her brother was in the same city as she was.

Drizzt waited several long minutes before moving to just behind Shana.

"Did you know her?"

"No. Last trip here we heard rumor that the temple had gotten a priestess, but we hadn't verified." Shana kept her voice at the same level his was.

"I'll be away; please stay close to the wagon and no one wander off," Drizzt said, in that tone of protective concern he was far too young to have mastered. The other fighters nodded at him, and Shana didn't say anything else, before he vanished into the city. Even being unfamiliar with the layout, he could calculate where the best pathways were, having been told the rough placement of Vhaeraun's temple in regards to the marketplace.

He stepped out on the walkway ahead of the priestess several blocks from the temple itself.

She stopped, hood up, robes masking her body, and that mask hiding her face.

"Sister."

"How?!" she demanded, having been certain she had cloaked her voice well enough.

"Height, way you move, the ease of using both hands as you touched the merchandise, and the pronunciation of certain words."

"I was trying for Rilauven's dialect," she grumbled, but she did take a step toward him.

He did not flinch or move.

"Drizzt."

"Vierna."

He tipped his chin up after he said her name, and she reached up to take the mask off, slipping it into a secure pocket. They stood that way a long moment before he sighed.

"At least you're with the reasonable half of His people here, from all the tales I've heard. But I am very curious, and the streets are no place to talk. Given I humiliated the others, I do not want to be far from the wagon. If I come in two weeks, will you be willing to meet with me under truce at the place they call the Dimmed Lantern?"

"I would almost return with you to that stall to talk now, but I too have humiliated the Dragon Hoard recently," Vierna admitted. "Two weeks, my wean-son, my brother… son of our father."

His chest felt tight to hear her admit the truth of their ties, and he inclined his head, stepping aside so she could pass. She paused in his space, hands finding his to squeeze tightly.

"Keep yourself alive, little brother!" she said fiercely.

"It is what I excel in," he promised her, squeezing back, before they parted, so many questions hanging between them that would have to wait for the next time.

Vierna entered the Dimmed Lantern without any guards, her mask put away, even her hood down from her robes. She made eye contact with her little brother by the staircase, having just been standing there, waiting.

At least her informants had been prompt, if he was being that obtrusive still.

She joined him, and in silence, they went up the stairs, both having had too many days and nights to think about what should be shared now that each knew the other was still alive.

In the room, with the door shut and locked, Vierna didn't hesitate to just reach for and pull Drizzt into her arms, despite his initial resistance. He did relax, though, and that settled her nerves further.

"The leader of Bregan D'aerthe said you eluded the Matron's attempt to find you, but I was already gone from the House by then," she said at last, pulling back, holding onto his shoulders to study him. "You look well, and those clothes are surface-made, but well-worn. Is that how you escaped? Going above so young?"

He half-smiled, shaking his head, then drew her with him to the couch.

"I was still in the wilds, when Briza led a party to find me," he said. "They baited me… and I killed her, the cleric with her, some of the soldiers. After that, I had reason to turn to Blingdenstone, and eventually, with their aid, I did go above."

Baited. What kind of baiting would have made Drizzt turn so violent? She knew there was more, but did not press.

"I grew sick of the attrition," Vierna said, lacing her fingers with his, "as the two Houses warred for so long. I had begun to question, that night you left, because it hurt to not have the Weapon Master there, or to know how you fared when I had seen you were injured in that confrontation."

His eyes sparked for the memory, but he stayed silent, letting her continue.

"My questions found answers from Vhaeraun… and I crafted my disappearance not long after, so He could help me reach His people before the illness of that Spider Bitch abandoning me could make it impossible to travel. A small enclave in Mantol-Derith, who passed me along their routes to Rilauven."

"The city under the Neverwinter Wood," Drizzt said. "I know a cleric from there, among Eilistraee's people."

"Not yours?" Vierna questioned, curious, and concerned, because being godless was sometimes a difficult thing.

He shook his head. "I will aid Her people, but I only live among them for necessity, at this point. I prefer the freedom of the surface."

He was still so very strange.

She would chase down 'necessity' in a moment, as he obviously had freedom of movement, so he wasn't enslaved.

"The leader of Bregan D'aerthe found me there," she continued. "He'd suborned Dinin, giving him freedom to live in the mercenaries for one small task." Vierna met Drizzt's eyes then. "He has Father's body. I accepted the posting here to learn faster, become stronger, so that I may perform the resurrection. I am not yet… there. But I will get there."

Drizzt's eyes had blown wide open, then narrowed… and finally accepted this as fact. "If he has the body, is he planning on producing the diamonds needed?"

"I am not leaving it to his vagaries," she told him firmly.

"Then I will bring you what treasure they insist I keep, from my forays into Undermountain and the ruins above that I keep finding when I scout for them."

Unasked. He just… unasked! Offered her a faster way to accrue the material cost!

"You could come here to stay, my word that you would be left alone by the others, and aid me more directly?" Vierna probed, wanting him closer, wanting to forge an actual bond with this man she had cared for and nurtured.

"No." He shook his head, and his free hand came up to her cheek to gentle the refusal. "I cannot leave the ones I aid now, not for some time, not at length."

"Why?" she demanded, her heart pricked with anger and sadness alike at his answer.

He shifted, then let go entirely of her to rise and pace the room a bit.

"The other cleric was the woman from graduation," he said at last, his back to her. "The bait was the son she bore."

Vierna rose, and went to press along his back, as understanding clicked into place. He'd been so badly wounded in his attitude after that night, and she'd never understood why.

"You're certain the boy is yours, I take it?"

"Two handed, questions everything, could hear the call of Eilistraee his whole life, something I'd been blocked from by Her… he is very much my son, and starting to favor our father in his jawline.

"He's only fourteen, maybe fifteen years old now? I don't like to leave him for more than a handful of days at a time, even with the help I have to raise him."

She slipped her arms around him and held him, pleased when he relaxed back into her, his head on her shoulder.

"Then… I will accept what aid you can give, and the visits you manage. In time, I would like to meet him, but he is still young. He should not be risking the passage between there and here, just to meet me."

"His name is Kastan, and I do want you to know him, for him to know we have more family," Drizzt agreed. "When he's older."

Vierna had understood, when Drizzt only stayed the two days. Before he returned, she intended to have sending stones readied, to let one of the temple wizards attune for them. She had even more reason to grow stronger in this place, though, to have her brother, and nephew, so close.

They might well get Zaknafein back before the boy was of an age to travel, but in time, they would be a family of three generations, despite their morality and end goals.

Somehow, she thought this suited her god even more than just her concern for her father had.

halfshellvenus

We got back from San Diego on Tuesday night. It was a great trip overall, and wonderful to spend so much time with our daughter. But it got off to a rocky start.

There's a lesson in here about touching bases with your hotel early, though I don't think it would have helped us. When we got to our hotel at 10:00 on Friday night, the desk clerk informed me that they had cancelled our reservation. This was because they had overbooked by 6 rooms, and the manager told her to cancel anything that wasn't pre-paid. Late at night in a strange city is not the time to find yourself without a hotel! The clerk suggested the next hotel over, which fortunately had a room. But ugh. More than the price of my carefully arranged lodging, and we were hit with the smell of mildew smell as soon as we opened the door to our room. By 11:30pm, I was searching for another place to stay for the remaining 3 nights of our trip.

I found one, which was listed as having breakfast and a fitness room. Yay! But no. When we got there on Saturday, a sign noted that they no longer served breakfast and the desk clerk informed me that the fitness room was being renovated. I could not win for losing. Also? More mildew smell when we entered THAT room.

Friday night was also when I realized that I had somehow forgotten to pack my meds. They were all in the 7-day organizer, ready to go, but it was still sitting on the bathroom shelf at home. /o\ It wasn't worth it to hunt down replacements for just 4 days, so I went without instead, but what a stupid mistake. I was also envisioning being ragingly hungry for the duration, since one of the meds and a supplement both suppress appetite and I am otherwise always hungry, so I was dreading that.

Surprise! That didn't happen. Instead, I spent each day feeling swimmy between the ears (vague-headed and with a sensation almost like having my ears randomly pop), getting sudden hot flashes, and riding the border between nausea and hunger. My blood pressure was also low for 3-4 hours each morning, and it was like I couldn't fully wake up. I wondered what I was taking that normally addressed that-- thyroid meds? Antidepressants? It wasn't until a couple of days in that it occurred to me that those might be withdrawal symptoms, rather than part of my base unmedicated state. IDK. But the lack of hotel breakfast also meant I had no coffee! I had to make up the difference with caffeinated diet soda, which... Ullllhhhh. On the plus side, we got to try Blackberry Dr. Pepper! On the minus side, I also stopped enjoying it by the second day.

More on the actual trip in a separate post. I've been busy with work and trying to get caught up with my friends-list now that we're back.

ysabetwordsmith

Ancient bees found nesting inside fossil bones in rare cave discovery

Ancient bees pulled off a bizarre survival trick—turning fossilized bones in a cave into their own ready-made homes.

Thousands of years ago in a cave on Hispaniola, an unusual chain of events left behind a rare scientific treasure: bees nesting inside fossilized bones. After giant barn owls repeatedly brought prey like hutias into the cave, their remains accumulated in silt-rich chambers—creating a strange underground environment. Later, burrowing bees took advantage of the soft sediment and even reused tiny cavities in fossilized jaws and bones as ready-made nests, coating them with a smooth, waterproof lining.

Current Mood: busy

silvercat17 posting in

justcreate

What are you working on? What have you finished? What do you need encouragement on?

Are there any cool events or challenges happening that you want to hype?

What do you just want to talk about?

What have you been watching or reading?

Chores and other not-fun things count!

Remember to encourage other commenters and we have a discord where we can do work-alongs and chat, linked in the sticky.

redwolf posting in

dw100

Welcome to

dw100! Challenges are posted approximately once a week.

Challenge 1085 is fetch.

The rules:

All stories must be 100 words long
Please place your story behind a cut if it contains spoilers for the current season
You don't have to use the challenge word or phrase in your story; it's just there for inspiration
Please include the challenge word or phrase in the subject line of your post
Please use the challenge tag 1085: fetch on any story posted to this challenge

Good luck!

Current Location: sydney, australia

bluapapilio

( You're about to view content that the journal owner has marked as possibly inappropriate for anyone under the age of 18. )

Current Mood: hot

whamod posting in

fandom_on_dw

( You're about to view content that a community administrator has advised should be viewed with discretion. )

starandrea

Pictures!

♥ Whinnie, Queen
Reported Breed ID: Cairn Terrier
What I told people she was: Cairn Terrier
How I licensed her: Cairn Terrier

( Queen Whinnie )

♥ Mimi, Angel
Reported Breed ID: Cairn Terrier
DNA Breed ID: Chow Chow/Shetland Sheepdog/Shih Tzu
What I told people she was: Cairn/Pomeranian/Chihuahua
How I licensed her: Terrier Mix

( Angel Mimi )

♥ Daphne, Princess
Reported Breed ID: Cairn/Chihuahua
DNA Breed ID: TBD
What I tell people she is: Border Terrier
What other people tell me she is: Brussels Griffon
How I license her: Terrier Mix

( Princess Daphne )

soemand

rivkat

Michael Sfard, The Wall and the Gate: Israel, Palestine, and the Legal Battle for Human Rights. ( yikes )

Daniel A. Bell, The Dean of Shandong: Confessions of a Minor Bureaucrat at a Chinese University:( Who goes Party? )

Fashion and Intellectual Property, ed. David Tan, Jeanne C. Fromer, & Dev S. Gangjee: ( around the world )

Rebecca Solnit, The Beginning Comes After the End: Notes on a World of Change: ( hope in the ashes )

Nicholas Buccola, One Man’s Freedom: Goldwater, King, and the Struggle over an American Ideal: ( one of them was right )
Blake Scott Ball, Charlie Brown’s America: ( Peanuts )
John J. Sullivan, Midnight in Moscow: A Memoir from the Front Lines of Russia’s War Against the West: ( we lost )

Greg Grandin, America, América: A New History of the New World: ( recommended )

Srdja Popovic with Sophia A. McClennen, Pranksters vs. Autocrats: Why Dilemma Actions Advance Nonviolent Activism: ( thinking about resistance )

soemand

Cold weekends have their own kind of permission slip. While the wind does its thing outside, I’m finally tackling a job that’s been quietly judging me for years: replacing the rails that hold the companionway hatch. The originals have earned their retirement—they’re tired, cracked, and more “vintage charm” than functional hardware.

The new rails have been a slow‑burn project, carved and shaped over the past few seasons, always waiting for that perfect stretch of indoor time. Now I’m in the home stretch: epoxy coats, careful sanding, and the slow, meditative climb toward that glossy, yacht‑worthy varnish finish.

It’s not fast work. It’s not meant to be. There’s something satisfying about watching raw wood turn into something that looks like it belongs on a proper boat. One coat at a time, the rails—and maybe the sailor—are getting a little shine back.

starandrea

I was wrong about the Embark Breed & Health DNA test. There is a place on their website that addresses the question, "Why did my sample fail?" which says the two most likely reasons are 1) insufficient DNA on the swab (this might be us, we'll know in a few weeks) and 2) contamination, usually with DNA from another pet via shared food or drink. Embark says if either of these is the case they'll know right away and they can send a free replacement kit by request. So that's nice.

In researching this I learned more about how the test works, and according to reddit (source of all wisdom), Embark acknowledges that breeds are not a science, but rather (like human race or the definition of a continent*) something that a bunch of people agree is true without consistently delineable and replicable evidence. Therefore, Embark asks the people in charge of gatekeeping breeds to provide DNA from animals those people agree are representative, and Embark uses that as their standard.

So now I'm much more interested in what Embark thinks about Daphne's DNA, because apparently it's really based on something. (Does the something matter? Only as much as you want it to. I appreciate it when people trying to convince me of something (in this case by offering their service in exchange for money) acknowledge this and are straightforward about limitations as well as strengths.)

Also, reportedly people with purebred dogs often get a "100%" result on DNA tests, which I was skeptical of prior to my reddit investigation. I don't have a DNA test for Whinnie (supposedly a purebred Cairn despite her size and color), but I have one for Mimi and it looks like this: Chow, Shetland Sheepdog, Shih Tzu, Mixed Breed, Mixed Breed, Mixed Breed, Mixed Breed, Mixed Breed. I mean, fair, right? But in her lifetime I met two other dogs who looked very similar like her and heard of a third, unlike Whinnie, who remains entirely unique in my experience. (I get that you can't tell by looking. But I hear phenotype is still a 20-30% indicator, which isn't much but it isn't nothing either.)

...This was going to be like a three-sentence post, so that's typical.

*The continent thing is really funny though; if you're bored you should definitely google "why isn't Greenland a continent?" (Don't ask AI; the synthesized LLM answer is boring. This is a great discussion, though: Why Greenland is an Island and Australia is a Continent, by Emily Upton, which includes a variety of post-scripts with comments including, "The truest part of the article is the implication that the whole concept of continents is borderline incoherent.")

Anyway, as I was about to say, almost half of the winter sowing containers have germinated seeds! Here they are on the porch, getting some air. (Just the containers, the seeds are basically invisible. You might have to take my word that sprouts exist. The lupines are big though, and the gay feathers are red, so it's neat to see some variety even when they're tiny.)

( pictures )

And down the hill by the dogwood garden, we have: dogs! Sometimes you decide to clean out a garden and dogs show up; it's so great. Especially when they entertain your dog and keep her from wandering off.

( pictures )

twistedchick

The top levels of US government are shredding, fraying -- but who stands to benefit from this? And where will the country be when he does?

ysabetwordsmith

Today is cloudy, cool, breezy, and wet. It rained again this morning.

I fed the birds. I've seen a few sparrows and house finches.

I put out water for the birds.

EDIT 4/4/26 -- I've seen a fox squirrel at the hopper feeder.

EDIT 4/4/26 -- I raked a section of the east path, so that I can sow grass seed later.

EDIT 4/4/26 -- I started sowing grass and clover seed along the east path.

EDIT 4/4/26 -- I finished sowing grass and clover seed along the east path. But the new grass seed is bad, so covered in chemicals that it's blue. >_< Local selection is poor, but we'll have to try to find something different when this runs out.

EDIT 4/4/26 -- I did a bit of work around the patio.

EDIT 4/4/26 -- I checked the new picnic table garden. Peas, carrots, bok choy, and lettuce are sprouting. I replaced a few peas that didn't show up.

I am done for the night.

Current Mood: busy

ysabetwordsmith posting in

gardening

April 2026 is National Native Plant Month

Please help to spread the word that the month of April is Native Plant Month and plan activities in your community to make a real difference by planting native plants, removing invasive plants, and teaching others about the importance of native plants as a source of food and habitat for wildlife.

( Read more... )

Current Mood: busy

ysabetwordsmith

Current Mood: busy

petra

https://www.signupgenius.com/go/10C0448A8A62BA6FBC34-63233152-nys/196228856#/ -- Via zoom, 4/12, 1pm EDT. Sign up to speak or attend.

Current Mood: heartachy
Current Music: We live our lives one breath at a time

susandennis

People around here are really into Easter. About half are religiously into it and the other half are Easter dinner into it. I am so not into it. I like the spring pastel colors but that's as close as I get.

We had to cut volleyball short today - only by 30 minutes - because Wally had to go to his great grandson's baseball game. I took a poll this morning at Elbow coffee. "How many of you every met one of your great grand parents? Joan's last great died when she was 3. Same with Bonny. I had one that lasted until I was 6. And that was it. But, more than half have great grandchildren. And some are teenagers. Wally's oldest great grandson is 15. I just think that is all fascinating. And a bitch at Christmas.

Last night I was borrowing into my comforter when my finger slid into a hole! What?? It's a dark cotton fabric in a very busy pattern so I had not seen a hole and turns out there are several. I'm thinking cat claws. The good news is they are easy to mend and you can't even see the fixes. I like the comforter and I cannot find one that I like better so I need it to last.

Another Google fail - if I search for 100% cotton comforters twin size brightly colored print - I get a vast range of microfiber quilts for queen size beds in ugly muted colors. It's pretty hilarious. Also many many stores label their goods cotton but when you click on contents, it's like 4% cotton. So I patch.

Elbow coffee was good and volleyball was good and now I have nothing on my calendar until 6:30 when the baseball game starts.

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