deer sausage

It is August 10th, 2017

Here is a nice Steam Train video for you to watch: The Deer God

A cool Ross fact for your day: When Ross was studying Animation at the Film and Television Institute of WA, he created and directed a short called Shaolin Sausage in 2006 with an entire production team of other students.

And a lovely picture of Ross to make you smile:

Day one of the keto diet, I’ll have to get used to the unsweet gross creamy coffee but the effects of it feel nice and I feel awake and not gross. I’m not allowed to touch anything containing bad high sugars or anything with carbs so I’m limited to dairy and healthy fats (meat and eggs) with few fruit (berries) and select greens. Good thing about this diet though is you don’t have to portion yourself so you still feel full but all you can eat is healthy fats. My breakfast was an omelette with bacon, spinach, mushrooms, deer sausage, and a whole lot of cheese with a side of avocados. If I can keep this up I should be losing a lot of weight in a few days like my mom and dad. I have high hopes for this diet because my dad is like me with a slow metabolism and its working really good for him. Pls save me from temptation of eating sweets.

olivias INCREDIBLY nauseous and listening to country music on her fucking _ham radio_ of all things so it’s all cracklely and OLD TYIMEY RAAAAAADIIIIOOO sounding (we have a stereo??) and it’s talking about southern nights and 9 dimensional trees and it’s storming outside and we’re munching on deer sausage and drswing furries and this is so surreal? this is one of those concept playlists blurbs? im not entirely sure im in the same dimension i was in when i was in the bathroom tbh

Romantic Getaway (6/11/2015)

Hello from Missouri Wine Country! We had a gift certificate for a Bed & Breakfast about 45 minutes from home and decided to retreat from real life for a few days. We arrived at Stoneridge B&B just in time to take in the gorgeous autumn sunset.

After a bit (and by that, I mean a bottle) of wine from our host, along with some cheese and deer sausage, we headed out to a local microbrewery for dinner. I decided to sample what’s known as a flight of beers (basically four samples).

Sherlock, on the other hand, went with a classic semi-sweet red wine.

My sample glasses of beer were labeled with abbreviations to show which brew they were (I promise you, we did not alter these). Sherlock decided the abbreviations stood for, left to right: himself, Benedict, Hamlet, and Rory.

Then it was back to the B&B for some champagne and a swim in the tub. And now, as Sherlock is ready to advance to the next activity, I’d best be signing off.

- JW

Writing Check-In, When the Moon, Ch 14

A very small slice of sleepytime comfort for my dumped anon, my migraine anon, my triggered anon, and anyone else who could use a little sweetness tonight. <3


I’m in a place at once familiar and impossible: the Seam house I grew up in, yet as I’ve never seen it before. There is a merry, sooty coal fire on the hearth, blazing cheerfully beneath a beribboned garland of pine, and all about are the comforting scents of snow-dampened wool and leather and furs, of rabbit stew, deer-blood sausage, and hot acorn bread spread with goat cheese and honey.

It feels like home, but not my own.

I’m sitting in Granny Ashpet’s rocking chair, wearing a long dress of soft red plaid cotton. My lap is draped with a familiar ashen-silver fur with glints of copper; my fox fur – my true skin, I think idly – and I curl forward to hug the firm, proud swell of my belly with both arms.

The babies are elated.

I don’t know how I know this, but I do. They’re so full of joy that it almost hurts. They’re coming soon, so soon now, and I’m impatient to cradle and cuddle them, to guide a hungry little mouth to each breast and kiss their sweet tiny faces as they suckle.

My grandmother is seated on a crate with my bare feet in her lap, massaging them with her strong tanned hands. She’s older than she ever lived to be: her hair, pinned in a slapdash sort of bun at her nape, is almost entirely silver, and her striking face is lined by decades of happiness and hours spent hunting beneath the sun, and yet she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. “It’s not often we get a visit from the moon herself,” she remarks, as though we’ve been at this conversation for some time, not just beginning it. “And how are the fawnlings today?” she wonders, looking up with a dazzling smile.

“Fawns?” says a man’s voice, brimming with laughter, and Grandpa Asa comes up beside her, a jaunty cap tugged low over his wild shock of gray hair and the beginnings of a stick dolly in one hand. “’Tis a peeping fat goose, acushla,” he corrects her with a wink, “silver as dandelion-down, and a merry golden kit. Goslit and kitling,” he informs us, gently laying his free hand on my belly. “None other could it be.”

He is neither handsome nor ugly, this man I have never quite been able to picture in my mind, with his hooked nose and soft gray eyes. He has a face that instantly feels like home, like sooty fires and musty quilts and ancient lullabies, and I no longer wonder why Granny Ashpet chose a slight, plain dreamer of a boy over every other in the district.

My grandfather is gentleness incarnate, and I see the adoration in Granny Ashpet’s face as she looks up at him – a feat not often achieved between the two of them, owing to my grandmother’s superior height. “Think you so, lover?” she wonders. “This doe wants fawns, make no mistake, and her golden boy is crowned with antlers.”

“That signifies little enough,” says Aunt Laurel in passing and I look up with a grin, half expecting her to be wearing her own antlers, but she looks so wonderfully ordinary and Seam-born with her muddy boots and flannel coat and silver-threaded braids that I want to clamber up from this chair and hug her about the waist. She’s about an inch taller than her aging father, making it painfully clear just how diminutive he truly is, and takes full advantage of this by pressing a sound smack of a kiss atop his capped head.

“Have you never seen her mate, Papa?” she wonders. “The sun himself, he is. She carries the stars in her womb, Morning and Evening both. Jackie!” she calls. “Tell them. You know better than anyone.”

My father emerges from the next room, wreathed in smiles and handsomer than ever, his faintly silvered black hair tied back at the temples. “You silly lot!” he laughs fondly. “You’re all more hair than wit. Catkin has loved the white bear since long before she understood it. She wept like a bereaved lover not to have him in her arms when she was just five years old, make no mistake about it. I told her he would come to her in time; all she need do was wait, and so he did.

“Catkins and cubs,” he declares, coming over to press a kiss to the kerchief tied about my braids like a little red cap. “White bear-cubs and downy silver catkins,” he says, with a caress of my cheek. “My daughter would have nothing less.”

“Beloved!” cries a muffled voice that makes my heart leap and the babes in my belly surge about wildly. “What madness is your kin conspiring with all this talk of animals?”

My husband has come.

Warm golden light seeps around the edges of the front door, brighter and more beautiful than any lantern or torch. The light of the sun itself, powerful enough to hatch black and gold nestlings from pebbles.

“Open the door to me, Katniss,” he implores, “for I am heavy-burdened with gifts and mean to kiss you at once, and thoroughly, upon my entering.”

I laugh delightedly and shake off my kin, wriggling out of the chair with a great heave for my heavy belly. I’m half-delirious with eagerness and the babies are twice so, tremoring inside me with anticipation for their father. The promised kiss, of course, is only the beginning. My beloved intends to carry me to the nearest bed of musty quilts and there love me from head to foot, lavishing an immeasurable span of time on my belly, where our children lie, and lower down; the secret place, where he entered to plant them inside me. His touches there are the sweetest of all, and I blush deeply at the thought of engaging in such delicious intimacies while my family waits in the room adjacent, but a little embarrassment is not enough to give me pause, not when I am so near to joining with my beloved once more.

“Whatever form he appears in is the form the babes will take!” Granny Ashpet whispers urgently, somewhere behind me.

“I’ll take that bet,” her daughter whispers back.

“Don’t bother with your trappings,” Granny Ashpet calls to my unseen beloved. “Your bride is anxious to see your face.”

“As am I for hers,” he calls in reply, then beseeches me with blatant adoration: “Moon-willow, vixen, sweet songbird who made her nest in my heart: please let me in! I am dying for want of your lips on mine and your precious body in my arms.”

I take hold of the latch, the metal gently warmed by his presence on the other side, and lift it with eager, trembling fingers. Whatever waits for me beyond this door – a magnificent golden buck, a great white bear, a silly yellow gander, or a young man incandescent with the sun’s own light – I love him all, and all of him, and I ache to see our babes and hold them in my arms.

But not before I hold him, and love him with all my might.

I fling the door wide open to a glorious blaze of hot, honey-golden light –

– and I wake with an audible pang, my belly heavy and hollow and my heart a cold knot of grief.

No mysterious, unseen beloved. No babes. My father and his family are all dead, not surrounding me in gentle affection and making playful guesses as to the nature of my unborn twins.

And yet I’m not alone.

I’m lying beside – half on top of – a soundly sleeping Peeta, his powerful body cocooned around mine, snugging me solidly between his glorious warm bulk and the cushioned back of the sofa.

I smile.

Welcome, beloved,” I whisper soundlessly, tracing his heart with a fingertip, and shiver at the daring words cascading from my tongue, still caught up in the bittersweet, beautiful dream. “My door is always open to you, and my arms.

He gives a soft grunt in response, making me start, and one strong hand slides over my body to cover my hand on his chest. “Sweetheart,” he drowses. “M’ little sweetheart…”

“Not quite,” I tell him sadly, almost silently. “You’ve caught a little black bird – tamed her, in fact – but she’s not the right one.”

Only one,” he slurs insistently.

“I know, sweet boy,” I assure him with a gentle kiss to his forehead. “There’s only one bird for you, and always has been. We’ll get her for you, even if I have to lay the snare myself.”

“She lays the snares,” he sighs. “Lays snares for me…shimmering nets of moonlight…in her eyes.”

“And you want the moon,” I reply, intending to comfort him with the reminder, but I can barely choke out the words.

“I watch her,” he whispers. “Look for her every day in the sky, but she never comes near the sun. She’s barely close enough to feel his light…never close enough to hold.”

“She will be,” I promise, even as it breaks my heart to identify his sweetheart – some other birdlike Seam girl – as the huntress-moon. “Perhaps she’ll surprise you and catch hold of you herself,” I suggest. “She is a huntress, after all.”

My huntress,” he grunts, squeezing my hand, and I let a smile sneak onto my lips. However wildly he dreams of his sweetheart, he still knows who I am, even in slumber.

“Yours, whole and entire,” I agree, dipping my head to kiss his hand where it covers mine on his chest. “Always and entirely yours.”

He gives a pleasured little “Mmm…” in reply and sinks into slow deep breaths once more.


Note: I have a personal headcanon (for my headcanon :P) that Jack Everdeen’s parents called him “Jackie” and thus if his little sister had survived, she would have done so too. 

Also, this is totally not original fiction in any way. Katniss totally had grandparents so it’s not like I’m, erm, making all any of this up…

Bored? Bold what applies to you.

You are in high school.
You dropped out of high school.
You live within 20 minutes of your best friend.
You don’t have a best friend.
You live within 20 minutes of the last person you kissed.
You live within 20 minutes of your ex.
You have hugged someone in the last 48 hours.
You have been to the movies within the last week.
You have had 3 or more boyfriends/girlfriends just this year.
You have been a designated driver. 
You have broken merchandise and not paid for it.
You have played strip poker.
You are Catholic.
You are atheist.
You recycle regularly.
You are a brunette.
You have dated a blonde.
You are friends with a redhead.
You are taller than your mum.
You are taller than your dad.
You have a bank account.
You’ve written a check for less than $5.
You have visited the Statue of Liberty.
You have visited the Eiffel Tower. 
You have visited Big Ben.
You have visited the Colosseum.
You have visited The Great Wall of China.
You have never been out of the country.
You have been a waiter/waitress.
You own a Bible.
You own something with a Pentagram on it.
You have used a Ouija Board.
You have been a witch for Halloween. 
You have been a zombie for Halloween.
You have your eyebrow pierced.
You have a Monroe piercing.
You have your nose pierced.
You have no tattoos.
You have more than 2 tattoos.
You straighten your hair occasionally.
You have worn a dress in the last 3 days.
You live somewhere that gets snow.
You celebrate Hanukkah.
You were at your own house last New Year’s.
You were at a bar last New Year’s.
You slept through last New Year’s.
You have worked on Christmas Eve.
You have worked on Christmas.
You have been told ‘I love you’ by someone today.
You were told by someone who’s not family.
You slept in your own bed last night.
You regret kissing the last person you kissed. 
You are wearing a necklace right now.
You are wearing something red.
You are wearing something blue.
You are wearing something purple.

Your phone number ends with an even number.
You have kissed the last person you called/texted.
You are currently listening to music.
You are waiting for something.

You don’t like seafood.
You have eaten deer sausage.
You have given a complete stranger your phone number.
You have been hit on at work.
You have been hit on by someone more than 20 years older than you.
You have been whistled at.
You were creeped out by it.
You are a good speller.
You are very punctual.
You were dating someone in December of 2008.
You are still dating that person.
You have cheated on someone.
You have been on a cruise ship.
You have camped out in your own backyard.
You are wearing something that doesn’t belong to you.
You are a Pisces.
You are an Aquarius.
You are a Leo.
You wonder what will happen when you die.
You are afraid of the dark.
You write in all capital letters. 
You have been told you have nice handwriting.
You have had a song written for you.
You have had a picture drawn of you.
You have curly/wavy hair.
You are wearing a watch.
You are wearing flip flops.
You wouldn’t date someone who smoked.
You know someone with the same birthday as you.
You are a morning person.
You are a night owl.
You slept in past 10 am today.
You have big plans for next weekend. 
You are thinking of someone right now.
Your job is stressing you out.
You don’t have a job.
You have never had a job.
You were fired from your last job.
You know sign language.
You will usually try something at least once.
You have been swimming in the last month.
You are pessimistic by nature.
You have taken a ballet class. 
You have taken karate.
You have taken gymnastics.
You wish on shooting stars.
You wish at 11:11. 
Your birthday has already come this year. 
You have been in a relationship that lasted longer than a year.
You aren’t over your ex.
You have gone after someone you knew was bad for you.
You have let someone use you.
You were/are a teenage mom. 
You are an otaku.
You are a cosplayer.
You were named after someone. 
You like your name.
Your last drink was water.
You have visited somewhere said to be ‘haunted’.
You have skipped school just because you didn’t feel like going.
You have taken medicine when you ‘feel a headache coming on’.
You are self-conscious about your body.

You have a hangover.
You have a pet fish.
You have had a Jehovah’s Witness show up at your house.
You have godparents.
Your parents are still married.
You have step-siblings.
You are the oldest.
You are adopted.
You have a triplet.
You don’t want kids.
You want more than four kids.
You have a bad temper.
You have made out with a complete stranger.
You usually make the first move in an intimate situation.
You have broken your arm.
You have had to get stitches on your face.
You have had an MRI.
Your fingernails are painted.

You like to draw.
You like to sing. 
You can play an instrument.
You keep a lot of secrets from people.
You don’t think people would accept you if they really got to know you.
You don’t trust people easily.
You borrowed something you really need to give back to someone.
You drive a car older than a 2002.
You have lost a friend you never thought you would.
You know a child who died of cancer.
You know a teenager who died in a car wreck.
You have done something illegal in the past 24 hours.
You have cut your hair in the last week.
You wear glasses.
Your favorite season is Autumn.
Your favorite color is orange.
Your favorite animal is a dolphin.
You last rode in a car with a relative.
You last rode in a car with a girl/woman.
You last rode in a car with the person you are dating. 
You regularly watch Asian dramas.
You love Chinese food.
Your best friend is older than you.
You have to go to school/work tomorrow.
You answered every question truthfully.