neighbor's garden

I’m so glad that alien covenant ended with Walter helping Daniels build the cabin by the lake where they live together and take up gardening it was the perfect ending haha can you imagine if something else had happened because I can’t

With a good caregiver the answer is “indoor cats have a better quality of life,” hands down.

An outdoor cat has the benefit of entertaining themselves, they can engage in natural behaviors such as climbing, digging, hunting, and sunning. If they’re a social cat, they may enjoy the company of other neighborhood cats.

However, they would be exposed to more daily stress. Stress scurrying across the road with a car barreling down, stress from trying to keep other cats off their turf, stress from coming across native predators or dogs.

It’s also more difficult to monitor health of an outdoor cat, so although they may enjoy hunting and digging they won’t enjoy having worms. They won’t enjoy struggling to pee, or being constipated, which their owner may not pick up on because they do most of their business in the neighbors garden.

Their deaths are often less “quality” as well, the reason free-roaming cats tend to live shorter lifespans is because of trauma and illness. They may enjoy sunning themselves, but wouldn’t enjoy dragging themselves to the side of the road to die because they chose the wrong patch of asphalt. They may enjoy climbing, but wouldn’t enjoy it if a bird of prey snatches them off a branch.

Indoor cats with inadequate owners will become bored, depressed, and often destructive. If fed poorly they’re more likely to be obese or develop health issues such as renal, thyroid, or urinary problems. This is, clearly, not a good quality of life.

However this can easily be remedied by providing an enriching environment using cat shelves, crinkle tunnels, cat trees, scratching posts, etc. and engaging in daily interactive enrichment.

If the cat craves the authenticity of an outdoor experience enclosures can be purchased or made, or they can be harness trained to safely enable their desire to roam. Ways to bring authentic outdoor fun inside is providing f/t feeder chicks or rodents, letting them hunt purchased feeder insects, or providing a dig box with soil from the yard if it’s pesticide free.

It’s also easier to monitor a cats health. Cats tend to hide if they’re ill, being around them all the time gives you a better feel for their behavior and if somethings off. It’s also easier to monitor their litter use and urine / stool health, which is often an early warning sign. Being able to notice the issue sooner means less time the cat is suffering, and if it’s a serious health issue the cat then has a better chance of recovery.

The quality of death is often better, a well-cared for indoor cat is most probably going to die of age or from euthanasia.

So the quality of life for an outdoor cat may be situationally better than the quality of life of an indoor cat who has a unqualified owner, but an indoor cat with an owner who knows what they’re doing and is willing to put the time and effort into having a pet isn’t missing any of the “pros” an outdoor cat experiences but is spared the “cons” both the outdoor cat and the poorly owned indoor cat suffer.

If quality is the deciding factor for I would suggest looking through this testimony from behaviorists, veterinarians, and other experts who encourage indoor cats and reading the part of the FAQ discussing the Indoor Cats Are Depressed myth.

When you don’t have what the spell calls for/don’t know where to get it...

It sucks.  That much we can all agree on.  

But it’s not the end of the world!

There are all sorts of other possibilities and substitutes for your everyday spells charms and potions, not to mention unlikely sources!  Here are just a few!


  • Socks make great ‘pouches’ for spell bags.  They’re even easy to get in the right colors, usually black or white!  Just add what you need , tie a knot in the sock, and it’s a perfect spell bag!  You can even store your tarot decks or crystals in one!
  • Most witches know this, but in almost any spell, a white candle can be substituted for any other color.  What many witches don’t think of are all the other options there are!  Just need a few minutes?  Birthday candles work well, and come on almost every color of the rainbow!  And remember that life hack from a few years ago?  In an emergency, a crayon will burn for 30 mins?  What’s a crayon but a candle with no wick?  Light the paper instead, and you have nearly every color of the rainbow at your disposal.  Be careful, of course, as with all candle magic!
  • Instead of small offering bowls, which can be A) expensive, B) fragile, and C) easily lost, don’t hesitate to use something a little more creative!  A hollowed out fruit or orange skin, a small, still soft dish made of playdough, or a regular kitchen cup all will work just fine!  Just be sure to pick up any fruit as quickly as possible.
  • True cauldrons are difficult to come by, not to mention expensive.  A nice cast iron pot or dutch oven, however, doesn’t have to be!  It keeps all the same qualities on would look for (Natural, easy to clean, holds remnants of what has been made before within it) in a cauldron, but can be gotten for under 10 dollars at most thrift stores.  Get there early, though, as they are popular!  Once they’ve been seasoned, they make absolutely perfect cauldrons!
  • Interested in chord magic?  There’s no need to go out and buy special rope or chord.  Most houses have a skein of yarn or spool of twine around somewhere, and both work just fine.  Even sewing thread will work if you don’t mind your finished project being rather small.
  • Potion bottles and jars can be expensive, not to mention the fact that the few I have for that purpose are almost always filled with one thing or another.  So when you’ve made a perfectly good batch of holy water or confidence draught, only to find that you’ve got nothing to keep it in, remember, nothing but the aesthetic will suffer if you just put it in a plastic leftovers container, or better yet, a spaghetti sauce jar!  Anything good enough to hold your food is good enough for your potions!

Now onto where to get your supplies, as well as the substitutes above!

  • Most herbs can be found in grocery stores, obviously, but it’s also a great idea to check health food stores in the bulk bins section.   If you only need a bit of something, it may cost you only pennies!
  • Candles can be a bit expensive.  Unless you don’t mind scented ones, in which case the dollar store is the way to go!  I’m unsure if there’s an international equivalent, but in the US, you can usually get a small candle for one dollar.  Not bad!  Plus they almost always have packs of tealights and glass dishes, which work well for candle holders or offering trays!
  • two words: GARAGE. SALES.  I’ve found all sorts of amazing stuff at these, some of which I couldn’t buy (My mother would be suspicious.) But there’s usually everything from cast iron to yarn to buttons to books to dishes to statues to cloth to anything you can imagine!  Check them out!
  • Socks can also be bought at the dollar store.  Btw.
  • Farmers markets are great if you are looking for produce for kitchen magic, as the items have more personal touches to them.
  • WILDCRAFTING.  You can find so much out on a walk.  I’ve found bones, crystals, and all manner of herbs, spices, and plant material.
  • Offer to weed a neighbors garden in exchange for the weeds you pull.  Dandelions, pokeweed, and pigweed are all great spell ingredients.  Ask for bits of what they grow as well!
  • Trade with your witchey friends!  I grow lemon balm and always have an unholy amount of it, so I swap that and anything else I have extra of for anything from crystals to advice!
  • I hope all this helped.  Blessings, everyone!

I’m a child


Canna (or canna lily, although not a true lily) is a genus of 10 species of flowering plants. The closest living relations to cannas are the other plant families of the order Zingiberales, that is the Zingiberaceae (gingers), Musaceae (bananas), Marantaceae, Heliconiaceae, Strelitziaceae, etc. Be careful about the decision to plant Cannas as they spread by underground  rhizomes. If you plant two bulbs (root stock) a few years later you might have ten or more and they will over grow neighboring plants.

doceight  asked:

I'm sure you would never encourage this, but hypothetically, if I wanted to commit an act of garden warfare, all it would take is a handful of mint seeds thrown onto the offending neighbor's garden/lawn?

Nah, seeds take too long.

What you wanna do is get a small cutting of root and a knife. Stab that knife into the turf of the lawn you want to attack, and use it to carefully lift a bit of turf.

Now tuck that root cutting just under the turf, lower the turf into place, and tamp down. There should now be no evidence that you were ever there.

Until, that is, the mint root, as mint roots invariably do, turns into a whole mint plant.

For best results, use the most vigorous of the mints; namely, peppermint or spearmint. Or better still, both, and plant root bombs in twenty to thirty locations around the target yard.

emilys-fandom-trashbin  asked:

I've been binge-ing all your writings (they're amazing btw), and I just finished "Our Greatest Creation" and my 3 hours of sleep brain said "Man, Black Hat would be an amazing uncle" and I just?? Request a continuation of Our Greatest Creation where the kid's, like, 6 and BH is best uncle while Flug and Waifu are on second honeymoon or smth??


Dr. Flug x Reader (Also, Uncle-y Black Hat)

A/N:Technically this is a Flug x Reader, but…. Yeah it focuses more on BH and his relationship with your child. I named your kid Alan as a tribute to Alan Ituriel. I love that man, and while I totally subscribe to and adore the “Dad Alan” head-cannons (go check out @blackhatcannons for this because they have some really cute ideas about Dad Alan!), I also just adored the idea of little Alan Ituriel running around with “Uncle Black Hat”. Because who doesn’t love Alan?
This request was so cute and I wrote it really quickly because the inspiration was there! Thank you and I hope you enjoy!!!


It felt good to relax. Certainly it wasn’t something you nor Flug got to do very often. Ever since Alan was born your lives had become a whirlwind of adorable, evil adventures. Not that you didn’t enjoy them, but it felt good to relax a bit.

You turned over in your bed and sighed at your husband’s form. But something was off.

“Hey, Flug,” You yawned, “Where’s Alan?”

You could have sworn that your little boy had crawled in bed with you two again last night, with another night mare about a hero destroying the company. You looked over to 5.0.5’s bed in the corner, but your son wasn’t curled up with the blue bear either.

“Maybe he went back to his room.” Flug replied sleepily. You shrugged, wanting terribly to stay in bed with him, but the alarm on you night stand gleefully reminded you that it was 15 minutes after 9 and you knew Black Hat undoubtedly had something for you to do. It didn’t matter that it was a Saturday morning. And besides, Alan’s cartoons were on. Maybe that’s where he’d gone. It didn’t take you long to get ready.

At the sound of a large explosion, you watched your husband sit bolt upright in bed, still dressed from work the night before, save the lab coat. You looked at each other in surprise. We’re you under attack? Usually explosions came from inside the house. And they were typically Flug’s fault.

Both of you ran outside quickly, Flug pulling on a lab coat as you sped down the halls. Alan wasn’t in his room or in front of the TV.

Out side you both came across a scene that made your eyes widen. Black Hat and Alan stood a little ways away from the sight of the explosion, laughing together. The entirety of the neighbors flower garden, of which Black Hat often complained due to its size and bright colors, was on fire. Or at least, the few bits of organic matter left was aflame. There was a considerable dent in the ground.

“Sir?” Flug surprisingly spoke first and Black Hat quickly stopped laughing, “What happened?”

“Did….Did that explosion…Did you help Alan set that off?” You asked slowly, a look of concern no doubt lining your face. On multiple occasions you’d seen your son fight Demencia over a box of cookies and win. You knew he was tough, but the mom in you was still concerned for your son, who from the looks of things was not nearly as far from the blast as he should have been.

“What?!” Black Hat asked, looking at you two like you were crazy, “He’s fine!”

Behind him, Alan was laughing…and also his coat was on fire. You chuckled a bit while Flug looked on with concern. Upon seeing you two, Alan ran over to you, pulling on the bottom of your shirt.

“Mama! Mama! Uncle Black Hat and I burned down the neighbor’s flowers today!”

“Uncle Black Hat?!” Flug and Black Hat said in unison. You chuckled again, taking one knee so you could talk to your son face to face.

“Wow, Alan, that sounds absolutely criminal.” You smiled, raising an eye to Black Hat, who huffed and avoided your gaze.

“Yeah!” Alan smiled enthusiastically, using his arms as he talked, “He even let me pour the gasoline on them! It was awesome! They went up so fast!”

“And what should you go tell you’re ‘Uncle Black Hat’?” You replied, placing a hand on his shoulder to pat out the last bit of flame and gesturing over to Black Hat.

“I am not-”

“Thank you!” Alan smiled, running over to Black Hat and hugging his leg. Black Hat froze, a near disgusted look on his face as the young boy hugged him.

“Uhhhh, yes…” He replied, patting Alan on the head uncomfortably and sending him back to you, “You are…welcome.”

“Now run inside and grab a snack with Daddy.”

“Okay!” Alan smiled, grabbing Flug’s hand and leading his father inside. Flug looked back at you and you offered him a reassuring smile.

“You know just gasoline wouldn’t cause an explosion that big.” You looked over to Black Hat, who was watching them go inside. He looked at you with that half confused, half disgusted look, before quickly composing himself back into an “I don’t care” attitude.

“Ah well, you know, I just wanted to make the fire larger, cause more damage…you know their flowers were going over the fence a-”

“Well you made Alan really happy.” You said, patting him on the shoulder, “And he really looks up to you.”

“Yeah well…maybe the child isn’t completely useless…” He mumbled, following you back in the house.

Das Schloss Linderhof is a palace in Bayern (Bavaria), Southern Germany, near the famous Ettal Abbey. It’s the smallest of the 3 palaces built by King Ludwig II and the only one he lived to see completed. Ludwig knew the area from his youth when he had accompanied his father King Maximilian II on his hunting trips in the Alps. When he became king in 1864 he inherited the so-called Königshäuschen - in 1869, he began enlarging it, then decided to tear it down and rebuild it on its present-day location in the park. Although Linderhof is much smaller than Versailles, it is evident that the palace of the French Sun-King Louis XIV (who was an idol for Ludwig) was its inspiration. The symbol of the sun, which can be found everywhere in the decor represents the French notion of Absolutism that, for Ludwig, was the perfect incorporation of his ideal of a God-given monarchy with total royal power. The palace is surrounded by formal gardens that are subdivided into 5 section, decorated with allegoric sculptures of the continents, the seasons, and the elements.


the summer of love

marcus flint & katie bell : wind-down after quidditch practice, stolen flowers from the neighbor’s garden, gallons of iced coffee, air cooling charms, sparky getting in the way of full body hugs, smoothie bowls for lunch, discussing game manoeuvres, the hobgoblins blasting on the wireless, bedroom antics, soft sheets, comfortable silence, unbeatable team

requested by @calebski for the @hprarepairnet & @slytherdornet summer vacation challenge!

Zombie Apocalypse AU


Preface: It’s the 1940s, Gridewald’s gaining influence and the World Wars are creating weapons and conflict in both the muggle and wizarding world. Amidst all the desperate inventions and technology, muggles – those in power, aware of magic’s existence – are finding a way to defend against wizards. What started with Chamberlain fast-tracked under Churchill… only to abate along with the wars.

“The Project” is revisited by the early 1980s as a new magical threat – Voldemort – takes form. Twice threatened within a century, muggle governments keep a permanent eye on handicapping Wizards with the sudden reminder that they can be a more threatening form of human. Research and Development continues, silent and deep, even after the threat is abruptly eliminated in 1981.

When Fudge meets with the muggle Prime Minister, all but admitting he’s been ousted for incompetence, with the knowledge that this Voldemort is coming back, and that terror upon muggles will be renewed…the muggle Prime Minister decides then and there that THIS TIME nonmagicals weren’t going to be another mass grave.. They would not be victims, nor perceived as such. Magic had to be dismantled. The Project is pulled up from underground and presented to the right channels to fast-track it into action.

Fast forward near the end of Harry’s sixth year, where, on the deep political muggle-end of things, a red button is pushed. A year of watching families attacked, disappear, a hearty remind of what wizards are capable of, quiets the majority of nay-sayers to this Project.

The Project is unleashed… perhaps prematurely. Well-tested (though, not thoroughly enough for some) radioactive energy intended to create polarizing waves upon contact with magic. Ideally, when a human manifests magic, there are explosive, adverse effects. It’s released it into the very air to step on the throats of wizards, no matter what sort of magic they intended to preform. Any focal of magic (be it wand, wave, or broom) is explosive.

It was muggle advancement and science at its finest. And, like all human creations, its prone to human error, and the prolonged exposure to what could basically be classified as biochemical warfare incited a goddamn zombie apocalypse.

Basically, the second wizarding war is halted in its tracks thanks to a third player they never saw coming: muggle science. And, in its place, came a zombie apocalypse where wizards now have to survive without magic, because they may literally explode if they try to use it.

So we have Harry (and I can picture this opening scene so clearly) – we have Harry coming back from school… Dumbledore’s dead. He has a head full of horrible Voldemort-knowledge, a secret plan to run off with his friends and abandon his studies, and the weight of this war and horcruxes on his shoulders.

Less than a fortnight into the summer and the only news he’s getting at first is odd, odd sickness on the muggle telly and no wizarding post. There’s stories of self combustion on the news. Then cannibalism. Just a couple, at first. Very weird. Enough for Harry to wonder if it’s Inferi or some sort that have been let loose (cannibalism? Really?).

Halfway through the third week of summer vacation, it comes straight to Privet Drive.

Harry almost uses magic but he feels wrong when he tries. He grips his wand and there’s an ill-boding vibration. He receives a letter from Hermione, Hedwig returning—finally—after his inquiries over what’s going on in the wizarding world (and if the bloody Order stopped his post for some reason, so help him…)

What he gets instead of excuses is a DESPERATE warning not to use magic.

That wizards are dying, and its naught to do with Voldemort. That there’s chaos in the wizarding world beyond the war. That they should try and get to St. Catchpole, to reconvene with the Weasleys.

Voldemort remains a quiet mystery for awhile, because as Harry’s reading Hermione’s letter, chillingly remembering the “self-combustions” mentioned on the muggle telly, he hears a scream.

He stumbles down the stairs as his Aunt runs inside, from Mrs. Across the Street’s tea party, clutching her neck, claiming Margaret attacked her. Attacked all of them. They had to relocate their tea to Margaret’s house, you see, as she was feeling under-the-weather and they were SUCH accommodating friends. Margaret was feeling particularly ill, went to the bathroom, and returned, half an hour later, only to chomp down on Mrs. Linden’s collar with not a word uttered.

Vernon’s still at work. Dudley’s shrieking. Harry’s shoving his aunt in a chair and holding a cloth to her neck. He barks at Dudley to take over with the cloth when he sees Mrs. Linden limping across their lawn, blood coated down her clothes.

Dudley follows his line of sight and cries out. Petunia notices too and starts crying again. Harry’s in survival mode and shouting at them to shut up, that he’ll take care of it, Hermione’s haunting words not to use magic ringing in his head.

And, the worst part is, he can feel it — when he’s about to use magic. The ill-boding crackling. It’s a hard instinct to clamp down on, but he’ll have to rely on muggle methods.

As he’s running out the kitchen side door into the garage, Dudley calls out behind him: “You need to take out her head!”

Because it’s DUDELY with all his video games and muggle culture and physical know-how, that understands what’s happening before Harry every does. Harry, who knows of Draugrs and Infirius but still thinks things like Zombies could be mythological until proven otherwise…

When Harry exits the kitchen, kicking the door behind him, Mrs. Linden is clawing at the kitchen windows with unfeeling fingers, his Aunt’s frightened shrieks only serving to stir her attention. So Harry calls to her. She sees him, though her eyes tell a different story, and staggers in his direction, mouth gaping, teeth bared, a large chunk of her neck missing and blood coating her front.

The first thing Harry grabs is a shovel and strikes her. It knocks her back, but it’s not enough. Harry, you see, had been neglecting his health, as had always been a bad habit when he had too much on his mind.

From the corner of his eye, he sees movement. A family across the drive is scrambling into their car, dropping haphazard belongings as mindless figures enclose on them.

His line of sight shows a neighbor eating the gardener. As though sensing an audience, the man looks up, entrails hanging from his mouth, and that pale stare zeroes in on Harry.

Harry’s attention is drawn to the immediate threat when Mrs. Linden lunges at him again. He stumbles, and barely manages to shove her off with the shovel but somewhere in his mind he knows…the shovel’s not going to be an effective weapon for him. Not now. Not in this condition. If only he could get her on the ground and just bash her head in…

But then the other neighbor, the one he made eye-contact with, is coming at him too… So he kicks her back a third time, and glances around the garage, and leaps at something far more accurate – a pair of ice climbing picks his Uncle once bought Dudley for his 14th birthday.

As soon as one’s in hand, Harry swings it around with desperate accuracy and it easily pierces Mrs. Linden’s ear. She drops. By then the other neighbor is stumbling into the garage and Harry’s hardly aware of the rise in screams outside or how silent the inside is, and he uses the icepicks to kill the second zombie. His arms don’t start shaking until after he struggles to get the icepick out of Mr. Montaugh’s head.

That’s when the kitchen side door opens and Dudley comes out, cheeks wet, and for a moment neither he nor Harry speak to each other because they’re both fully aware of what’s currently happening, and what they’ve both had to do, and it doesn’t matter why or how its possible, but that it’s happening.

Harry silently offers Dudley one of the icepicks, and Dudley shakes his head, gives a wobbly, empty chuckle, and says, “That’s not my style in this game”. Then he starts to cry. Really crying, with a bloody hand over his face and great heaving shoulders. Harry awkwardly steps forwards and pats his back, trying not to look through the door behind his cousin’s broad back, where his Aunt is dead—dead by some method Dudley had to employ and would likely never forget.

Eventually, Harry says something about how they have to leave (his mind is still on St. Catchpool and Hermione’s warning and how everyone is faring) and Dudley says he can’t – that his dad is still out there, that they might be safer in the house, that they don’t even have a car at the moment… Dudely firmly believes his father will come home as soon as possible, especially if shit is hitting the fan everywhere, and Harry warns him that this is escalating too quickly, that his father might not make it back in time, that they should find their own transportation…

That’s when an obnoxious red truck jumps the curb, right onto Mrs. Dursley’s pristine lawn.

It’s Malcolm, Dudley’s friend, and he’s swearing up a storm – Shouting at Dudley, that, if he’s okay then they gotta get out, that people are getting violent looking for cars, that everyone’s heading to the country side…

Two more of Dudley’s friends are in the back; they’re screaming about another zombie coming at them. An older woman and a small girl are in the back as well. From what Harry can immediately gather, Malcolm stole his shit-head stepfather’s truck and took off with two buddies from Dudley’s gang. They’re heading to Pierce’s next, and picking up all their friends and friends’ family that they can. Malcolm calls for Dudley to get his mother and get in (probably knowing Mrs. D doesn’t work, assuming she’s in the house). Dudley can barely get out the words so Harry cuts in and explains, “she’s gone”.

THEN things get awkward, because Harry’s like “Dud, this is the best opportunity to survive right now” and he knows this. He knows it in his gut. He’s got experience with survival. It’s, arguably, his one life skill. And Malcolm’s like, “Look mate,” (which is a laugh because he’s never treated Harry as a mate), “there isn’t much room.” To which Dudley decides THEN to be a noble idiot and say “If Harry’s not going I’m not.” And Harry’s just like, “It’s fine, it’s fine!”

So there’s a small tiff, the zombies are encroaching on the truck, and Malcolm’s just breached “Fuck it!” so he starts to go and Harry leaps in front and yells at Dudley to get in the fucking truck.

“What about you?”

It’s almost emotional for the two cousins who had about 1.6 minutes of bonding. “Don’t worry,” Harry insists, “I’m really good at escaping assholes.” (which makes most present feel a bit awkward at the jab) and then he turns to Dudley and offers, “Maybe we’ll see each other again someday. You just gotta survive.” They shake hands and Dudley says, roughly, “yeah, you too.”

And that’s the last they see of each other for the next two years: Dudley in the back of an obnoxious red truck with three members of his former gang, someone’s mother and someone’s little sister…

And Harry, in the street, zombies tripping around him, two ice picks held loosely in his hands.

Keep reading

Beautiful Dissasters

Originally posted by bonniebirdsgifcentre

Finn x Reader / John x Reader

Summary: Dating Fin, but after a fight, you sleep with John because of the sexual tension. (Requested by Anon)

You had grown up around the Shelby family and Finn was your best friend. You had always had a crush on his older brother John for as long as you could remember and you decided it was just something that you would always have no matter what. You fell for Finn and started dating him when you two had barely turned teenagers.

You had your fights here and there but you always came back together and toughed it out. He loved you with all his heart and made sure you knew that all the time. Every day he would bring you a hand picked flower from your neighbors garden and after a fight he would bring you little pieces of jewelry as a sort of ‘peace treaty’ as his brothers called it.

When you started dating Finn, your new best friend became John. There were somethings that you would tell John and not Finn and you would go to him for comfort after a fight. He was always there for you with open arms and good advice. You could tell he felt some way about you, and you knew it from the way he acted around you. In a hug, his hands would linger on your sides before letting you go. In a crowded room, you always caught the glances he sent you. The way his hand would grace your face when he thought you were asleep.He was so gentle with you as if he thought you were made of porcelain and would shatter under his fingertips.

You, of course, never brought this up to anyone for fear of it reaching Finn’s ears. You weren’t cheating on him, but you didn’t want him to know that his brother had a thing for you and that you had a thing for his brother. However, the more you fought with Finn, the more these things happened with John. You were always loyal to Finn no matter what happened, but sometimes it was difficult to go to John’s and ignore his subtle advances.

You could tell that tonight was one of those nights where you were going to end up staying at John’s place. The way Finn was pacing in the kitchen told you everything. You were going to end up fighting and it was not going to end on good terms. You stayed seated on the couch with your feet tucked under you and a book in your hands, trying to make it seem like you were busy to hopefully put the arguing off until either later or he forgot whatever he was upset about.

Keep reading