every time someone says ‘oh, you knit? do you like it?’ i have the marrow-deep urge to tenderly take their face in my hands and press my lips to their their eyelids and telepathically transmit the full overwhelming awareness that i carry just beneath my skin every moment of every day of how important fiber crafts and textiles are and historically have been to humanity. every stitch i work is a thousand billion stitches that have already been worked and will be worked in the future, from the farthest reaches of prehistory until time immemorial. every spindle i spin is spun with the same flick of uncountable fingers from ages past, all united across history in the deceptively simple movement that has shaped history, and art, is the context within which every single person on earth has ever lived their life and lives their lives still. everything from our phones to our homes is given shape and form by the overlooked but utterly important textile arts.
‘of fucking course i like knitting, you jackass,’ i say gently. ‘i wouldn’t do it otherwise.’
This Scientific American article from 1869 (!!) argues that the value of bones “is sufficient to induce care in their saving and preparation.”
Because: “one hundred pounds of dry bone-dust add to the soil as much organic animal matter as three hundred or four hundred pounds of blood or flesh, and also, at the same time, two-thirds of their weight of inorganic matter—lime, magnesia, common salt, soda, phosphoric acid—all of which should be present in a fertile soil.”
Another interesting, but likely out-of-date statement: “The farmers of England understand the value of bones. Beside those gathered in their own country, they import them from the pampas of South America, the feeding and slaughtering grounds of millions of semi-wild cattle, and prepare them for their soil.”
I’m sort of curious whether when we throw away perfectly good bones, what happens to the land of “away?” Assuming they’re buried, or something, rather than incinerated. I asked the local landfill where I live in Wyoming and they said they get lots of carcasses cleaned up from the side of the road. Is the landfill, or wherever else you choose to dump your carcasses or bones, super good and fertile and the best land ever? I don’t think so. There is such a thing as an overabundance of nutrients, like eutrophication.
“you should be at the club” i should be by the sea. i should be in the mountains. i should be awestruck and rendered speechless by the majesty of the natural world. if you even care
Oh this reminds me of a story from my youth, which I don’t Actually Remember Happening, but it has been recounted to me.
Basically when me and my bro were little, once, my mom had been making us supper. and she left the room for a minute for something, and when she came back, my brother was standing on a chair, and I was passing him green beans, which he was setting on the blades of the ceiling fan.
Now, when my mother saw this, she did what any respectable parent would do, and told us to sit our butts down and wait til our dad gets home.
Not much later, dad got home from work, ready to sit down to supper.
And mom sighs and goes, “honey, it’s hot in here, would you turn the fan on?”
if you found out that your dad has 120k followers on tiktok what would it be for? what would your dad’s tiktok niche be
Hot tips for committing violent murders. Dad has never murdered anyone that I know of but if I found out he killed a man in Valdez and that’s why he never goes back to Alaska, I would be 0% surprised, because a disconcerting amount of his conversational material is just how and why he would kill various people.
Naval history facts and humorously inflammatory statements.
Classic and antique cars. He had a 40 year career writing about them for a bunch of car magazines. He wrote about new cars, too, but the old stuff is always his favorite.
his rubik’s cube collection and how to solve em
He’d be a Big Name Fan of a smalltown American Christian rock group that’s all one family and got unexpectedly popular
my dad is a magician/juggler who flips houses… so 🪄diy🪄
“no matter how badly you think you’re doing it, someone else has done it a lot worse and been fine” is applicable to a wide, wide range of things and i say it to myself all the time
“bigger idiots than me have done it” is a phrase I live by
I would honestly listen to a three minute long song about pints with the lads
I am glad that the people of Ireland are united in the belief that Hozier is, as lovely as he may be, absolutely shite craic. Himself included. Sound lad, deLIGHTed to see him doing well and all but I would not have him round for cans, on my life.
For people with anxiety about filing taxes, here’s what things that happen when you make a mistake on your tax return:
- it gets corrected
- you get a letter in the mail either asking for some additional information or a letter showing the adjustment
- you pay the amount (there’s options for payment plans too!) or get a refund
Things that do not happen
- you’re “in trouble”
- you are charged with fraud
- you go to jail
I know that most people are probably just joking/exaggerating when they say a mistake on their return means they get thrown in jail but when I worked with the public I always would encounter people who believed that would happen and they would be panicking about it. So I like to put this out there every year because if I can even prevent one person from feeling that way, it’s worth it
I’ve fucked it up three different times and here’s the breakdown of results:
First time:
The IRS sent me a letter “Tev you us XXXXX.”
I double checked. I owed the IRS money. I wrote them a check. It was fine.
Second time:
The IRS sent me a letter “Tev you us XXXXX.”
I double checked. The IRS owed me money. I told them this. They wrote me a check. It was fine.
Third time:
The IRS sent us a letter “Tev and Dante you owe us this much”
I double checked. We did pay them the right amounts but the numbers were in the wrong boxes. I told them this, they were like “oh yeah we agree.” It was fine.
