BibliomancerKay

Colour Painting Tips by slawekfedorczuk

(via bsky)

In case anyone hasn't heard, the cyclospora outbreak affecting tons of people in the US right now is coming from Taylor Farms produce. Best to stay away from bagged lettuce and prepared salads completely right now, but especially the ones mentioned in the screenshot:

Taylor Farms Earthbound Farms Little Salad Bar (Aldi) Marketside (Walmart) Kroger House Brand Target private label greens Costco salads and greens etc Trader Joe's chopped salad kits and fresh produce Fast food: McDonalds, Taco Bell, (Yum! Brands), Chipotle, Subway, Pizza Hut, KFC, Olive Garden, Top Golf, Red Lobster, Burger King, etc.

This is not the first time I've heard about a Taylor Farms foodborne illness outbreak. I stopped eating their salads after reading a description of the conditions in their facilities. Doesn't sound like they've improved anything.

TAYLOR FARMS WAS OUR BIGGEST CUSTOMER

(By like...a lot. Probably 85% of the jobs I ran were Taylor Farms.)

Outbreak is considered to have started 1 May, I was laid off on the 27th. That would do it.

HEB-branded greens also come from Taylor. Simple Truth Organic is also a Taylor brand sold exclusively through the Kroger conglomerate.

LIVE WALLPAPER: wallpaper engine. only thing on here that costs any money (its like 5 bucks on steam). im sure theres free alternatives but this one has a lot of presets and stuff so its less hassle and its what i use. might be a bad idea for lower end pcs tho

CUSTOM TASKBAR: retrobar on github (lots of different options)

CUSTOM CURSOR: theres a lot of places to find these, but rw-designer open cursor library is a good place to start

DISCORD: betterdiscord, im using the clearvision v7 theme with a custom background

EXTENSIONS (these are for firefox, might or might not exist on other browsers):

tabliss for the new tab theme

stylus for tumblr -> specifically the 'tumblr - custom dashboard pallette' theme for colors + bg, and this for the pre-twitterifcation layout

enhancer for youtube for custom youtube colors

ALT

View on Twitter

https://archive.org/details/vhsinstructionals

the NSA agent who can hear everything through my phone:

✨Yeto’s Superb Soup✨

I had posted a recipe in the comments last year, but I decided to make a better version

Ingredients:

one 2lb kabocha (you can use an equal-sized pie pumpkin, but in my opinion kabocha has a much butterier texture and nuttier flavor. Also the yeti uses kabocha in the game so it gets points for accuracy)

1-3 carrots (last year the store had the fattest carrot I had ever seen. This year I needed 3 carrots to match that volume. Listen to your heart)

2-3 celery stalks (equal to the amount of carrot)

1/2 white onion

6 garlic cloves

(optional) 2 habanero peppers

mirin/cooking wine

1 box of fish stock (if you want it vegetarian, use kelp dashi stock)

1 box of vegetable stock

4oz goat cheese. I’ve tried making this with cream cheese and feta, but the flavor really doesn’t land right without the goat cheese.

1 cup? (<- it was eyeballed) heavy cream

.7lb filet of salmon

??tbsp olive oil

6 tbsp butter

a few pinches of flour

thyme, paprika, nutmeg, red pepper flakes salt & pepper

(optional) gronions to garnish

Step 1) Preheat oven to 400°F/204°C. Slice and deseed kabocha

Step 2) coat the pumpkin in a thin layer of olive oil. Season with thyme (I like dried thyme but fresh is better!), ground nutmeg, paprika, red pepper flakes, salt & pepper.

Bake for 30-50 minutes until it’s soft enough to scoop off the rind with a spoon. Thinner kabocha might only take 30 minutes, and thicker kabocha (like below) or a cake pumpkin may take 40+ minutes.

note: if your kabocha/pumpkin is especially thick, your soup may end up tasting sweeter. If you want it more umami, use less of your chosen gourd or maybe add a splash of soy sauce to the broth? Haven’t tried that but it’d probably work

Step 3) Prep all your other veggies while you’re waiting for the pumpkin to bake. Dice the onion and set it aside. Chop the celery & carrots into Chunks and mince the garlique

Step 4) Wait until the timer for the pumpkin has 20 minutes or less left. Heat up your pot/dutch oven on high/med-high heat, melt 2 tbsp of butter, and add the onions. After about 6 minutes, add the garlic. After another few minutes, sprinkle flour and stir, and keep frying until it browns.

Step 5) Add the rest of the butter, the rest of the veggies, and stir. Deglaze the pan with a splash of mirin/cooking wine.

If you timed it right, the pumpkin should be about done. Using a spoon, scoop the rind off the pumpkin. While you do that, periodically check on the veggies, adding another sprinkle of flour and a some of the fish stock as it gets dry. It’ll create a sort of paste and the onions will be pretty browned at this point.

Step 6) Chop the pumpkin & add it to the pot. Add the rest of the stock. If you’re using habanero, slice it and add it now. Add any other seasonings (it may need more salt) to taste. Once the soup boils, turn the heat to low and cover.

Personally, I prefer soups with Chunks in them + I think it’s more authentic to what the yeti made, but if you REALLY feel compelled to blend your soup, do it now.

Step 7) While the soup is heating up, get out a frying pan and add a tablespoon or two of some olive oil/butter on med-high heat. Add the salmon filet to the pan (scale side down) and just let it sit there. Don’t touch it. When it turns opaque halfway up, flip it until it’s fully cooked.

Once it’s cooked, remove it from the pan, remove the skin, and shred it into bite size pieces. If your salmon was really thick like mine was, and some parts of it are still pink, then toss the pink parts back in the pan to let them cook a little longer.

Add the salmon to the soup.

Step 8) Once the soup has been simmering for a few minutes and you’re too impatient to keep waiting, remove it from heat, add the goat cheese & heavy cream, garnish with gronions or whatever herb of choice, and enjoy!

In the game, this soup restores eight hearts, and it truly does feel that replenishing. This soup could cure any disease.

start wanting rice. (or, if you are traditional, simply recognize your constant desire for rice.)

measure out two cups of rice. then one more. then two more. then another. this seems fine. you love rice. there is no way that this will backfire on you.

remember that your great-great-uncle’s recipe says it should be soaked overnight.

become consumed with despair.

decide to soak it for half an hour instead, acknowledging that the final product will be inferior and anger your ancestors but will still satisfy your now almost-overwhelming need for rice to be inside your body much faster.

remember that you should have set the water to boil when you soaked the rice. goddammit. 

once the water boils, put the rice in until it is half-cooked. the eyeballing or intuitive method is less effective than a timer but that’s how your aunt does it so you feel compelled to meet her standards.

now that the rice has fluffed up, realize how much rice six dry cups really is. holy shit. you’ve fucked up immeasurably. 

take a minute to dwell upon your failings.

grease a baking dish with butter. this will never be as elegant as you want it to and your fingers will get greasy, but the slightly shameful, self-indulgent joy of licking your fingers afterwards will make up for it.

pour the rice into the dish. wonder immediately if you actually buttered the dish beforehand and if you’ve just fucked up. 

melt approximately one thousand pounds of butter in the microwave and pour it over the rice, pondering your imminent death from rapid-onset arterial clogging. put a small pat of butter on the top to properly gild the lily.

put your pan into the oven, which you have absolutely preheated after your previous lack of foresight. shake the rice once or twice while it bakes to make sure the butter is well distributed. resist the impulse to climb into the oven with the rice. for the last ten minutes, sit next to the oven and count the seconds until it’s done.

remove the dish from the oven. shed a tear or two at the perfection laid before you. if you are dining with others, this is the time to serve the rice while making passive-aggressive statements about how oh no, you don’t need any help, you just made dinner all by yourself, you can serve everyone as well. (this is still fun if done alone, but optional.)

CONSUME THE RICE.

realize that you have eaten half of the dish in one sitting. no matter how much rice you made, this will always happen. 

put the leftovers away, if there are any, and enjoy a cup of chai while marveling at the amount of food you have just eaten. if possible, fall asleep in an armchair, sitting up, head tilted slightly back, like a grandpa.

1lb / approx. 2 ⅓ cups basmati rice (any long-grain rice will do)

3 tbsp salt

8 tbsp / 1 stick butter (you can reduce this if you don’t want to have a heart attack)

Put the rice in a pot and cover it in cold water and salt. Let it soak overnight. (If you don’t have the time to soak it, rinse the rice with cold water until it runs clear.)

Edit: The reason you want to soak basmati and other aromatic rice before cooking is to preserve more acetylpyrroline, the compound that gives aromatic rice its characteristic scent and flavor. Soaking rice allows the grains to absorb water, which reduces the cooking time, which means less time for the acetylpyrroline to cook off. It’ll still taste pretty good if you can’t do this, but you don’t want “pretty good”, you want mind-blowing, so for that perfect flavor you’ll want to soak your rice overnight. The soaking process also washes away the layer of starch on the outside of the rice, which allows the grains to separate rather than sticking together; this is why you want to rinse your rice thoroughly if you don’t have time to soak it.

Preheat your oven to 325°.

Boil three quarts of water in a separate pot. Once it’s at a fast boil, drain the rice and add it to the water. Boil for 5-7min or until one grain tastes half-cooked, but not soft. Pour the rice into a colander and rinse with cold water.

Edit: This step also helps get rid of any remaining starch on your grains, for perfectly separated rice. If your colander or strainer has large holes, you can put a paper towel/cheesecloth/clean dishcloth on the inside in order to drain your rice. Pour carefully if you’re using a paper towel, though, and put a bowl underneath your colander; I once lost a heartbreaking amount of rice when my paper towel got oversaturated and tore open.

Liberally grease the bottom of your baking pan with some of your butter. Pour the rice on top. Melt the rest of the butter in the microwave and pour on top of the rice.

Bake for 45min. (If you like, cover the rice for part or all of the baking time, but I find it gets less crispy on top if you do this.) Shake the pan a couple times during baking to ensure that the butter distributes throughout the entire dish.

Eat.

Serves four. Can easily be scaled up if needed (or down, but why would you do that?). Best enjoyed with a nice cup of chai.

To Bind Our Echoes That We May Be Whole

The apocalypse has come and gone, and against all odds, Pharloom remains standing. The time has come for Hornet to return to Hallownest, accompanied by friends and allies: Shakra hopes to explore the mythical land beyond the wastes, and properly lay to rest a member of her own tribe; Lace fears unraveling without the aid of a Weaver, while contending with the immensity of a future free of her mother’s threads; and the Green Prince lives only only to spite the Citadel, passively seeking a more honorable end than might be found in the rubble of his homeland. Meanwhile, Hornet returns from Pharloom with magic and knowledge that might aid in the slow recovery of Hallownest and Deepnest–and perhaps offer the chance to call home the sibling she once thought lost to her forever.

Chapter 9: Trust Treads the Line Between Wisdom and Folly

[<<Prev] [Chapter 9] [Next>>]

We're just gonna... detour away from whatever conversation the Green Prince is having with the Mantis Lord. Don't worry, it's a secret tool that'll help us later. Instead, we get a conversation between Hornet and Vise about the distance between gods and mortals.

My beta readers were MVPs this chapter (and every chapter). I just wholesale cribbed how @sandflakedraws portrays playing a harp in their webcomic, The Touch of Sunlight. And if you're wondering what's going on with Hollow's cloak in the flashback sequences, snowleopardferret made a diagram over on Bluesky about proper vessel care and husbandry.

Tip Jars: [Ko-Fi] [Patreon]

Hollow Knight Fanart Masterpost

Transcript:

For the folks curious about templates, these are the shapes I cut from cardboard. I added a couple little pieces of cereal box cardboard as structural support in various points, like the bridge of the nose and behind the beak. Also, I ended up cutting the forehead piece a little smaller, which I marked on the paper, but I kept the template size in case you want to see how it originally looked.

It's a completely different piece of wearable art. It has a different soul. It has a different feel.

Bear's mask templates! I just want to stress that our masks are extremely low tech and budget friendly. They're made out of cardboard, hot glue, and fleece, with an elastic band in the back. I used a little sheer black fabric I had leftover from my terror bird costume for the eyes.

Fleece and felt are very forgiving fabrics and you can basically just cut a single large piece and stretch it to fit, gluing it to the cardboard one small section at a time. The fabric was the only purchase we made for these, and it was in the form of thrift store blankets.

this was all stuff i had lying around, most of it was obtained for other craft projects that i haven't yet gotten around to

Truncated text of tweet from MrPitBull, Mar 11, 2026:

She kept finding women in laboratory photographs from the 1800s. Then she read the published papers—and every single woman had vanished. Someone had erased them from history.

Yale University, 1969.

Margaret Rossiter was a graduate student studying the history of science. She was one of very few women in her program.

Every Friday afternoon, students and faculty gathered for beers and informal conversation. One week, Margaret asked a simple question: "Were there ever any women scientists?"

The faculty answered firmly: No.

Someone mentioned Marie Curie. The group dismissed it—her husband Pierre really deserved the credit.

Margaret didn't argue. But she also didn't believe them.

So she started looking.

She found a reference book called "American Men of Science"—essentially a Who's Who of scientific achievement. Despite the title, she was shocked to discover it contained entries about women. Botanists trained at Wellesley. Geologists from Vermont.

There were names. There were credentials. There were careers.

The professors had been wrong.

But Margaret's discovery was just the beginning. Because as she dug deeper into archives across the country, she found something far more disturbing.

Photograph after photograph showed women standing at laboratory benches, working with equipment, listed on research teams.

But when she read the published papers, the award citations, the official histories—those same women had disappeared. Their names were missing. Their contributions erased.

It wasn't random. It was systematic.

Women who designed experiments watched male colleagues publish results without giving them credit. Women whose discoveries were assigned to supervisors. Women listed in acknowledgments instead of as authors. Women passed over for awards that went to male collaborators who contributed far less.

Margaret realized she was witnessing a pattern that stretched across centuries.

Women had always been present in science. The record had simply pushed them aside.

She needed a name for what she was documenting.

In the early 1990s, she found it in the work of Matilda Joslyn Gage—a 19th-century suffragist who had written about this exact phenomenon in 1870.

In 1993, Margaret published a paper formally naming it: The Matilda Effect.

The term captured something that had been hidden in plain sight for generations. Once you knew the term, you saw it everywhere.

Her dissertation became a lifelong mission.

For more than 30 years, Margaret researched and wrote her landmark three-volume series: Women Scientists in America. She examined letters, institutional policies, individual careers. She gathered undeniable evidence that women in science had been consistently under-credited and structurally excluded.

Her work faced resistance. Many dismissed women's history as political rather than academic. Others insisted she was exaggerating.

Margaret didn't argue emotionally. She presented data. Documented cases. Patterns repeated across decades and institutions.

Eventually, the evidence became undeniable.

Her research helped restore recognition to scientists who had been erased:

Rosalind Franklin, whose X-ray work revealed DNA's structure—credit went to Watson and Crick.

Lise Meitner, who explained nuclear fission—omitted from the Nobel Prize.

Nettie Stevens, who discovered sex chromosomes—received little credit.

Cecilia Payne-Gaposchkin, who discovered stars are made of hydrogen—initially dismissed.

And countless others whose names had nearly vanished.

Margaret changed the narrative. Science was no longer just the story of solitary male geniuses. It became a story of collaboration that included women who had been written out.

For the Melanin Beam Challenge, I picked Purah because she's one of my favorite LoZ characters, and I thought it would be fun to make a Black redesign of her and give her coily hair. I also love eccentric scientist/engineer/inventor characters who are women, and I want more of them to be Black women. I realized while brainstorming designs that her canon design has a headband that matches the trim of her coat, but you can barely see it, so I decided to make it more prominent for the redesign. It was really fun to make!! Happy Birthday and thanks for all of your lessons!

Credit to @ezlo-x for the background texture! It's on their Ko-Fi here

some art for @creatingblackcharacters Melanin Beam Challenge!!!

First up is Frieren since she was the first character i thought of for this! Inspired by some wonderful Black cosplayers on insta like hannah.sherlie

Then we got Hakumei and Mikochi-- this manga/anime is near and dear to my heart and it is an honor to melanin beam the girlies.

It's about both of them living together in a tree trunk going about their lives as tiny people. Mikochi is a seamstress who also makes various home goods for a local store, while Hakumei is a carpenter/handyman. Peak slice of life calming vibes.. but not many Black characters? There's background charas in a couple places they visit but no one on the main cast which is a shame! So they're getting the beam. (They're both meant to be Blasian here, with Hakumei still being ginger since that had, like, plot relevance)

So, your landlord/parents/home inspector/favorite movie star is dropping by, and your place is a disaster. You don’t have much time to clean it up. You’re in emergency mode. Let’s get started.

Don’t panic. Panic leads to fear, fear leads to procrastination, procrastination leads to the dark side. You can do this, but you have to stay calm.

Unlike maintenance cleaning, we’re not looking to completely unfuck one space at a time. Instead, we want to decrease the overall mess in stages, spread evenly across the whole area that we’re concerned about. If you think your home is at Level 10 filth, we want to bring the whole thing down to a Level 9, and then down from there. One really clean spot in an otherwise messy home is not going to be helpful here.

Get prepared. You’ll want to shut the computer down (or turn the modem off if you need your computer to play music). Trust me. Get your music going. Gather up trash bags, your vacuum and mop, some rags or paper towel, sponges, and other cleaning supplies. Use what you have on hand. Don’t get distracted running to the store and spending an hour browsing cleaning supplies. A multi-purpose cleaning concentrate or a jug of vinegar will be just fine.

Breaks are very important. Depending on your time constraints, work in 20/10s (20 minutes working, 10-minute break) or 45/15s. But take breaks because otherwise you’re marathoning, and marathon cleaning is no one’s friend. Keep hydrated, don’t forget to eat, and check in with yourself frequently to make sure you’re physically doing OK.

Make your bed. This will be your home base if you get overwhelmed or need somewhere clear to take a break.

Start with the garbage. Going from room to room, throw out anything that is obvious trash. Once you fill a bag, take it out. Repeat as many times as necessary.

Move on to dishes. Gather the dishes from all over your house and bring them to the kitchen. If you can, start them soaking in a sink of hot, soapy water or start loading the dishwasher. After the dishes are all in one place, spend one 20/10 getting started getting them under control.

Now it’s time for your flat surfaces. Countertops, tables, dresser tops, etc. Clear them off and wipe them down. Don’t get distracted in too much sorting and organizing. We’re in crisis mode here. There will be time to get in-depth once this is all done. The same applies to cabinets and closets. Unless you have reason to believe people will be opening closed doors, leave these alone for now.

Attack the floordrobe and shoe pile. Get your clothes either put away or in the hamper. Start a load of laundry if you need to, but keep in mind that laundry and dishes have three steps: wash, dry, and put it away, goddammit!

Get random stuff up off the floors. If something is trash-worthy, throw it away now rather than just move it around a bunch of times. Otherwise, put stuff where it belongs.

Take another 20/10 or 45/15 to catch up on more dishes, if needed.

Head into the bathroom. Pour some cleaner in the toilet bowl, fill the sink with hot water and cleaner, and either spray the tub and shower with cleaner, or fill the tub up with some hot water and add cleaner and let it soak. Put everything away that’s out and shouldn’t be, clean the mirror, counters, and toilet seat. Sweep or dry mop the floor. Wipe down the sink and tub/shower, and give the toilet bowl a scrub. Mop the floor.

Sweep and mop the kitchen floor.

Vacuum everything you can, and sweep everything you can’t.

Walk outside of your house (don’t lock yourself out, please). Walk back in and see what catches your eye first. Go and deal with that.

If you’re being inspected or your landlord is coming in for repairs, spend time on whatever area they’ll be focusing on.

Give the whole place one more once-over and pay attention to anything you’ve missed so far.

It’s an old trick, but if your place is a little funky-smelling, put a pan of water on the stove on low heat and add some citrus or cinnamon or vanilla. Don’t leave it unattended or forget about it.

Take a shower, put on something clean, and eat something.

You can do this. It’s overwhelming, yes, but it is not impossible. You just need to do it. You have a list. You have directions. You have a whole bunch of Internet strangers who have been there before and who are cheering you on. You can do this, but you need to get started.

i didn’t realize it for the first few years - something shifting, something so subtle. the winter makes us all cold, the summer makes us all a little out of our minds. i just loved her, because she was incredible, and i was the luckiest person alive.

it’s just that i realized that spring came with sudden bursts of cold. it’s just that summer frequently raged in with fire sprouting from her lips. it’s just that winter was the worst of all, her eyes dead. it’s just that autumn loves me different; throws herself into it without the clingy sweat of summer. i used to love that summer girl, you know? i loved how wild she was, the way in summer she took every risk she could. but i carried her home drunk one too many times, cleaned up one too many of the messes she made for no reason than to enjoy the sensation of burning. and winter was worse; the shutdown, the isolation. how she became distant, a blizzard, caught up in her own head, unable to tell me what was wrong and unable to think i actually wanted to listen.

she comes home, her hair bleached white. a dark smile on her lips. the shadowy parts of her are back. they loom like icicles overhead. she kisses me with her body held at a distance, a peck on my cheek that feels like an iceberg. she makes polite conversation and we go to bed early, our bodies untouching. 

it is a lonely season, i think on the ninth day of this. winter is cold. winter is known for the death of things. when i look at her, i see the girl i fell for, inhabited by an alien. she was the first women i loved so much i felt it would kill me. i can’t leave. when i wake her up with my crying, she tells me to shush and go back to sleep. she’s different like this, quiet, doesn’t eat. 

three days later i stare at myself in the mirror. i wonder if it’s me. if the fat on my body or something in my face or the wrinkles and she doesn’t love me. i try prettier lingerie, lean cuisine, i try different hair, more makeup, try harder. it doesn’t work. she looks at me the same; that empty gaze that neither loves nor condemns my actions. 

somewhere in februrary i lose it. we’re fighting again, from car to restaurant to car to home again. we fight about stupid things, small things; i tell her i feel she doesn’t love me, she says i’m not listening. the circle goes around and around, old pain peeling back, new pain unhealing. i sleep on the couch.

i wake up when i hear her crying, white hair around her all messed up. the kind of sobbing that only comes at two in the morning, heavy and thick and hurting. my winter girl. my heart is breaking. she looks up at me like i’m her anchor. “i’m sorry i’m like this,” she says. and i start saying, it’s okay i’m here we’re married, but she just shakes her head and says, “I know this isn’t the real me.”

i hold her cold hand. she stares at the blankets. “i am different in winter,” she whispers, “i know i am and i’m sorry.” she looks at me. “why do you think i dye my hair? cut it off? get rid of the old me?”

i tell her it’s okay. we’re together and it’s okay, and then she whispers, “i’m sorry you married four of me.”

we lay there like that, her head on my chest. she falls asleep. i stare at the ceiling, thinking of the way she sounded when she was crying. how i helped put her in that pain. how i promised in sickness and in health and everything in between.

the next day i spend at the library. there aren’t enough books on how to love someone with seasonal affective disorder so i make my own, notes and pages and little ideas on post-its. and i take a deep breath and make myself a promise.

she comes home to her favorite dinner and we kiss and she’s uneasy but that’s okay. the next day i bring home flowers and the next day she finds little love notes in her pockets. i love her quiet, the way winter demands, understand her sex drive is faltering; spend more time just cuddling. we drink wine and we kiss and some part of her starts relaxing. 

the truth is there is no loving someone out of their mental illness. the truth is that you can love someone in despite of it; love them loud enough to give them an excuse to believe they can make their way out of it.

and i learn. i remember the rebirth of spring, when she starts thawing. we kiss and have picnics in pretty dresses. i remember her joy at little birds and her rain dancing. i fall in love with the flowers in her cheeks and the little bursts of cleaning. i fall in love with summer’s slow walks and milkshakes and shouting to music playing too loud on the speakers. i fall in love with her dancing, with the sunfire energy. and when winter comes; i am ready. i remember that snow used to look pretty. i fall in love with the hearth of her, with the holiday, with the slow smile that spreads across her face so shyly. i fall in love with how she looks in boots and mittens and every day i find another reason to love her the way she deserves - they way i always should have.

she comes home with her white hair and dark smile and a package in her hands. i ask to see what it is and that small shy grin comes creeping out. it’s a sunlamp packed in with medication. she looks at me with those wide eyes and that beautiful winter blush. “i’m trying to get better,” she whispers, “i promise.”

recovery doesn’t look immediate. sometimes it isn’t neat. i can’t say we never fight or that we’re suddenly complete. but each day, that tiny girl’s strength gives me another reason. i love her. i love her while she tames the roller coaster of spring; i love her for reigning in the summer storms; i love her for taking her winter and trying to be warm. it is hard, because everything worth it is hard. she spreads out her autumn leaves; mixes the best parts of her into everything. learns to take winter’s silence for a moment before yelling in summer. learns to take autumn’s spice and give it to spring. we are both learning.

one day she comes home and her hair is different, but it’s a style i don’t know. i kiss it and tell her that she’s beautiful and the inside of me swells like a flood. i’m so glad that she’s mine. every part of her. the whole. i am the luckiest person on earth. and i always have been. but she’s hugging me and saying, “thank you for helping me,” and i can’t explain why i’m crying.

this is what love is; not always an emotion but rather your actions. the choices we make when we realize our lives would be empty if the other was absent. this is what love is: letting them grow, helping them find their way in out of the cold. this is what love is: sometimes it takes work to see how the thing you planted together actually grows.