wiijpeiifh

hudební vkus: záhada i mně samotné, možná si na to skočím do kola, možná budu vrtět zadkem a nebo budu jen brečet

oblíbený aspekt vesmíru: když ti u hlavy usne kočka, zatímco dáváš na home officu šlofíček místo obědovky

zájmena: ona/její

hudební vkus: ta náhodná píseň, která ti začne hrát po přehrání celého playlistu na Spoofy. Nevíš, jak se tam dostala, ani to, proč po ní nehraje nic dalšího.

oblíbený aspekt vesmíru: když si na mě lehne kočka. Mohla si vybrat a vybrala si, že si lehne na mě.

zájmena: they/nedám

Hudební vkus: letadlo přistává na miliony pískacích kachniček

Oblíbený aspekt vesmíru: noční toulání se městem a lesem

Zájmena: AAAAAA/KUAAAAAA

Hudební vkus: chaos.

Oblíbený vesmírný aspekt: Dlouhé noční cesty autem

Zájmena: ona/její

Hudobný vkus: moje spektrum sa neustále rozširuje. Rozmýšľam, že skúsim robiť elektronickú hudbu

Obľúbený aspekt vesmíru: keď ma kocúr otravuje na záchode

Zámená: on/ona/ono

Hudobný vkus - Tak rôzne. Od soundtrackov a iných inštrumentálov, cez melodickejší metal, k rocku, folku a čo-ja-viem-čo-je-to-za-žáner. Aj pop veci sa u mňa vyskytnú, aj tancujúca huslistka. Špeciálna zmienka patrí Wii Music.

Obľúbený aspekt vesmíru - Keď sa ráno zobudím a všade je ticho a modré šero.

Zámená - Ja, moje, mnou, mne, mňa.

Hudobný vkus: krásne škrabká mozog a viem to vyvreskovať pri 8hod jazde, kedy som nespala už druhým dňom. Also. Šermiari a Vrbovské vrby

Obľúbený aspekt vesmíru: keď si to naše štendo všimne, že už sme hore a začne ňufáčikom krtkovať do periny lebo!!!!!!!!!!!*chrochtopŕsk a drb do rámu postele, kých*!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Zámená: teta (cz)?/ Teta. (sk)

Hudební vkus:Od skandinávských metlošů po běloruský gothwave

Oblíbený vesmírný aspekt: Vstávání ráno na táboře a zdravení se se všemi ospalými účastníky cestou do kuchyně kde nachystám velkou konvici kafe

Zájmena: ona/ono/jejich

Hudební vkus: mělo by to obsahovat aspoň jeden hudební nástroj, který dokáže správně identifikovat maximálně 0,01% světové populace, a nesmí se to moc belhat.

Oblíbený aspekt vesmíru: když se znenadání usměje neznámý člověk. Vlastně když se usměje kdokoli.

Zájmena: počkej sekundu *poodchází*, někde jsem to tu *přerovnává nějaký papíry* měla určitě *kouká do šuplíku* napsaný...

Já: *sedí se psem před barákem na lavičce a nechává ho chladit si bříško v trávě*

Pán s asi tříletou dcerkou: *vyjde před barák*

dětské_pištění.wav

Holčička: ŠŤĚŇATKO.

Já: Chceš si ho pohladit? :)

Otec: Může??

Já: Jasný, Arnie se kamarádí rád. Viď, Arníku?

Arnie: *kamarádí se MOC rád, hlavně s dětma*

Holčička: *nadšeně se vydá za štěnětem*

Arnie: *zří kamaráda, nadšeně se vydá za holčičkou*

náhlý_hlasitý_pláč_protože_ta_věc_se_hejbe.png

Arnie: *stojí dva metry od dítěte, kde se vychovaně zastavil, než se vůbec stihli potkat, a zmateně se snaží přijít na to, jakou stranou těla se sedá, aby se mohl divit v pohodlí*

Holčička: *běží s pronikavým pláčem za otcem*

dospělí_v_kolektivní_panice.jpg

Otec: Neboj, to je štěňátko- on tě jen rád vidí, tak se k tobě rozešel-

ještě_hlasitější_pláč.mp3

Já: Neboooj, zlato! Víš, on tě nechtěl vylekat, viď, Arnie-

jak_se_utěšuje_cizí_dítě.txt

nemotorné_zvuky_otcovské_empatie_v_podkresu.xhtml

Otec: Chceš jít radši domu a nechat štěňátko být?

Holčička, s okamžitým hněvem: NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

kvílení_dosahuje_bodu_porušujícího_legislativu_o_maximální_hlasitosti_veřejného_koncertu.midi

Já: ...víš- víš- on je miminko! On je maličkej, úplně jak ty. Podívej! Arnie, pocem-

vyčkávavá_pauza_v_kvílení.aif

Já: *názorně vezme Arnieho do náruče jako mimino*

Holčička: *okamžitý řehot*

dobrý_doprdele_neposral_jsem_to_víc.odp

Já: Vidíš? Malinkej. Von ještě vůbec nic neví.

Arnie: *zcela zjevně vůbec nic neví*

Holčička: *nadšené písknutí*

otec_se_zdráhavě_přestává_potit.zip

Já: Chceš si ho jít pohladit teď, když ho držim? :)

Holčička: JO!!!!

štěně_a_tříleté_dítě_šťastně_shledáni.mp4

Otec, po chvíli: Tak co, dem domu?

Holčička: *souhlasně hladí*

Já, k Arniemu: To sis udělal hodnou kámošku, viď?? Řekni "Děkuju!", Arnie! :)

Holčička, nechápající, že mluvím k Arniemu: *zamává* Děkuju, Álný!!!

budu_brečet_jak_je_todle_kurva_roztomilý.gif

Otec s holčičkou: *odejdou dovnitř*

Álný: *furt vůbec nic neví, kromě toho, že někdo udělal divnej zvuk a pak ho dotyčný mocně miloval*

Náš pan domovní na inspekci rozbitýho topení, když mu najednou kolem hlavy proletěl Tymiánek alias místní maličká andulka vlnkovaná: “DOPRKURVALE, OREL-”

I think about it a lot. Then try to focus on the present day and the near future so as not to feel hopeless. I was talking with a farmer neighbour the other day about hay—the year I moved here the harvest was ruined by several heat waves and prolonged drought (people actually had to feed hay to their animals in summer as there was no grass to eat, and I bought my animals for very cheap because a lot of farms had to sell parts of their herds lest they start depleting their winter’s supply of hay in July); then last year there was an insane hailstorm that left pastures looking like they'd been crushed by bulldozers; and this year we’ve had torrents of rain almost every day since summer started. I was like, that didn't use to happen, did it? and he said no, no, it's not normal for the harvest to be ruined by a different crazy weather event every single year.

Trees are more resilient to extreme weather than grass so I tried making tree hay last year and the animals ate it just fine; and I'll continue clearing my overgrown second pasture so I can make my own hay in the future and hopefully be self-sufficient when it comes to my animals’ food supply. So I guess my thought experiments re: climate change so far don't go any further than "What if one summer I can't buy any hay?" Reading about people who go a lot further and are actively stockpiling supplies or learning how to be self-sufficient in every way in preparation for the future petrifies me, people who are so determined to survive any level of dystopian future feel unrelatable and kind of scary.

We often have long power cuts in the autumn & winter here and sometimes I'm like, well let’s see how I would fare if society collapsed and there’s no electricity—in many ways it feels more manageable here than it would be in a city, as I have sources of water (that can also keep perishable foods cool) and a wood stove I can cook on, but in reality I would not last very long nor want to. What I find really scary is less a hazy notion of societal collapse and more the looming threat of violent fascism and resource wars—war is such an enormous waste of resources, energy, human potential, and the idea that we would waste it on destructive actions, to create more misery, at a time when we desperately need these dwindling resources for constructive ends, is mind-numbingly depressing.

One way of bracing myself for the future that doesn’t make me feel anxious is being friends & exchanging small services with the people from my local community, which reminds me that people enjoy sustaining small communities and helping others without monetary incentive and perhaps this will endure despite everything.

I'm building a greenhouse so I can grow more food over a longer growing season, and would also like to plant fruit trees and to rehabilitate the former pond and stock it with edible fish, but it's more because it makes me happy to participate in the informal food gift-economy with my neighbours and offer nice meals to the city friends who visit me, and because eating my own food would allow me to buy less stuff (esp. plastic-packaged stuff), than in a spirit of preparation for a bleak future. I try to focus on the few things I can control (driving my car as seldom as I can, not flying, not having kids, not ordering stuff online and not buying unneeded things, having mostly hobbies that don’t involve consumption or technology) and keep the rest at bay.

I felt terrified of global warming as a kid (I’m not sure why, because in the late 90s the general discourse was overall reassuring, we still talked mostly of “the greenhouse effect” and adults were like “this is something your grandchildren will have to worry about towards the end of the next century if we don’t do something about it, but I’m sure we will, look, we just signed the Kyoto Protocol!”—I would have been so traumatised growing up now.) I remember reading an 1850s book in which the author made enthusiastic predictions about the year 2000 and thinking, wow, imagine having this wide a horizon. Trying to picture society 150 years from now and not hitting a mental wall. On my birthday I used to think, “well at least I made it to age [10, 11, 12] and things were okay. No matter what happens from now on at least I got to live ten okay years before it happened.” I still kind of think like this, I go on a walk like “right now the natural world is beautiful despite everything”, focusing on what’s at hand rather than future conjectures, which feels like taking shallow breaths for fear of smelling smoke, I tell myself “at least this week was good”, “this lovely thing happened today”, it’s a strange kind of contented despair. Desperate contentment.

1. The frangipane filling is super simple: - 2 eggs, - 40g melted butter, - 100g sugar, - 125g ground almonds. Stir with fork until you get something that feels creamy and grainy and right. Spread it evenly on whichever crust you usually use for fruit pie (I use a pâte sablée)

2. Then add enough blackberries to cover it all, as shown above, but without having several layers of berries (you don’t want to smother your frangipane). I have no idea how much that is, I’ve never bothered to weigh my berries—maybe 200g? more? I don’t know :( You can also try to replace the blackberries with other fruit and see what happens (and let me know!)

3. Then in the oven for 40min at 200°C. My oven is a weak old beast so that’s what works for me, but in my grandma’s state of the art oven it was done after 30min at 180°C so just... check on your pie anxiously the first time. And bake until the frangipane in the centre no longer looks too raw. If it looks raw-er than on the periphery that’s perfectly normal.

Thank you for this nice ask! My ideal microblogging platform now that I think about it would be one where people only make 1 post a day, in which they share one pleasant or interesting thing about their day. Like a nicer Twitter. Call it Chipper. The posts would be automatically queued so they would all appear around the same time, so you aren’t tempted to check the platform compulsively many times a day but know that at 8am or 8pm (up to you) your daily batch of little nice news from people you follow will be delivered like a paper on your doorstep. For me this week it would be:

Monday: I started reading a poetry collection by astronomer Rebecca Elson; lovely timing because a late June evening in the pasture was the ideal setting to read some of these

Tuesday: I wanted to write a little update about Pampe’s education but I didn’t have my phone with me to take a picture and she is being so good lately I end up not having anything very interesting to say. “I put the halter on her and made her walk around a bit and she was very calm.” Boring. Well-behaved llamas seldom make history.

Wednesday: I read in a book about a French 18th-century philosopher (Maupertuis, son of the pirate Maupertuis who was knighted by Louis XIV) that he once told Madame de la Ferté-Imbault “your gaiety will last forever, because it is based on nothing.” I like the idea of groundless gaiety being the most dependable form of happiness.

Thursday: I am currently sitting near a little lake and I wanted to wait a bit longer to see what it would look like when the sun sets, but it’s starting to rain. But it was already beautiful in the early evening light:

They gave him an intelligence test. The first question on the math part had to do with boats on a river: Port Smith is 100 miles upstream of Port Jones. The river flows at 5 miles per hour. The boat goes through water at 10 miles per hour. How long does it take to go from Port Smith to Port Jones? How long to come back?

Lawrence immediately saw that it was a trick question. You would have to be some kind of idiot to make the facile assumption that the current would add or subtract 5 miles per hour to or from the speed of the boat. Clearly, 5 miles per hour was nothing more than the average speed. The current would be faster in the middle of the river and slower at the banks. More complicated variations could be expected at bends in the river. Basically it was a question of hydrodynamics, which could be tackled using certain well-known systems of differential equations. Lawrence dove into the problem, rapidly (or so he thought) covering both sides of ten sheets of paper with calculations. Along the way, he realized that one of his assumptions, in combination with the simplified Navier Stokes equations, had led him into an exploration of a particularly interesting family of partial differential equations. Before he knew it, he had proved a new theorem. If that didn’t prove his intelligence, what would?

Then the time bell rang and the papers were collected. Lawrence managed to hang onto his scratch paper. He took it back to his dorm, typed it up, and mailed it to one of the more approachable math professors at Princeton, who promptly arranged for it to be published in a Parisian mathematics journal.

Lawrence received two free, freshly printed copies of the journal a few months later, in San Diego, California, during mail call on board a large ship called the U.S.S. Nevada. The ship had a band, and the Navy had given Lawrence the job of playing the glockenspiel in it, because their testing procedures had proven that he was not intelligent enough to do anything else.