@baileywhatever, yes, I do! :) Jizō is the protector of pregnant women and children. You often see toys at Jizō statues: the gifts of a parent whose child has been cured of an illness thanks to Jizō’s intervention, or a gift to help the deceased child in the afterlife. A little hat or bib (often red, because red is believed to drive out demons) is displayed as well, for the same reason.
Sometimes these hats and bibs are made by mothers; sometimes – at bigger temples with many statues – it’s done as a labour of love by the women of the neighbourhood / congregation.
[Blog's Mun] Well... It's nice to finally know who's been back there, keeping an eye on me and making sure I don't lose my temper... So uh... Thanks Sans (Bara) I mean it. You've really helped me out a lot haven't you? I mean... There's been so many times where I've just wanted to lash out or be rude, and you've... Kept me in check. Made sure I didn't do anything I'd regret. So I uh... Just wanted to say thank you. And I'm also glad you finally decided to let me see you... ^ *
*his blush brightly as he steps forward* heh… i just didn’t want you to feel like you had to do anything. i wanted to help but i didn’t want to just impose my presence. *he puts his hands in his hoodie pockets and looks at his feet* i didn’t want there to be any pressure.
what exactly did luke DO back on tatooine? like, what was his life as a member of the slave rebellion like? you've made it sound pretty wild (vandalism, accessory to grand theft, gunrunning) but I Need To Know More?
Well the “grand theft” charge in fact refers to stealing people. Or it would, if they could ever pin anything on him.
Luke was mostly involved with running people to safety, helping to hide them on his family’s farm, and in particular helping Aunt Beru perform the surgeries to remove transmitters in the hidden room off their garage. By the laws of the Hutts, that makes him guilty of grand theft and accessory to grand theft.
By the time Luke was a teenager, and starting to get pretty heavily involved with the freedom trail, the scanner had spread through most of the underground network. The stories say that Ekkreth stole the secret of the scanner from the Depuran and gave it to the people. And Ekkreth wears a hundred thousand shapes and works with a hundred thousand hands, making modifications, passing the device along, spreading from safe house to safe house and giving the people the tools they need to steal themselves.
Luke himself has made a couple of modifications to the scanner: he’s made the design more streamlined, smaller, easier to hide. And, of course, he’s used it quite a lot himself.
They have a system, Luke and Aunt Beru and Uncle Owen. Aunt Beru is the surgeon. She was Grandmother Shmi’s student and her hands are steady and strong. She teaches Luke, too, and he’s performed a few surgeries himself. But usually his job is to work the scanner, and then to talk the person through the operation, to help them in any way he can. Uncle Owen runs interference and makes sure that everyone is fed and safe, and sometimes he pays off the right people when it has to be done.
And, of course, there’s the farming business to attend to, as well. They all do that.
And okay, maybe sometimes Luke likes to sneak out with his friends, and maybe they’ve tagged a building or ten, and maybe there was one time they almost got caught red-handed by Bib Fortuna himself. But they didn’t. That’s the important thing.
And yeah, all right, maybe Luke’s run guns a few times, but that’s not a big deal. Everyone on Tatooine has run guns at least once. It’s just something people do.
(A few years later, Luke casually mentions some of these things to his new Rebel friends, because really they aren’t a big deal so sometimes they just slip out in conversation.
Wedge stares into the camera like he’s on the Office.)
In a somewhat bemusing moment of
déjà vu, the priest presented Hikaru with a stack of ofuda. Granted, they were
being politely offered rather than flung in terror, but there was a definite
familiarity to the situation.
“Did you just refer to our daughter, your ‘precious little princess’, as ‘The Baby’?”
“When she does things like this, then yes!”
“Well at least we know she takes after her father.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Oh come on, Oliver. Her temperament comes from you. This has Oliver Queen written all over it.”
“Hey! You’ve got as much of a temper as me at times.”
“Yeah but I have more control on how and when I let it out.”
“Well so does she.”
“She’s a baby, Oliver. Evie doesn’t understand what ‘no’ means.”
“That’s what she wants you to think.”
“Oh stop whining. Here, put some ice on it. Jeez you’d think you’ve done ten rounds with a mirakuru soldier, not that you’ve been caught off guard by a six month old.”
“I wasn’t caught off guard.”
“Really? That nice purple bruise you’ve got says otherwise.”
“Hey at least we know she can defend herself from boys when she’s older.”
“I don’t think she’ll be carrying around a rattle when she’s old-”
“Did you just take a picture of me?”
“Yup. Sending it to the team. Caption reads 'Green Arrow Attacked: Appeal for information’. Suspect is armed and dangerous. Physical attributes: blond, blue eyed, female Caucasian, six months old, can stand when assisted and most likely drooling. Last seen in a red onesie and matching bib, brandishing a rattle. Approach with extreme caution. Suspect will use the rattle if cornered. Or if she is told no.”
“I hate you.”
“You love me.”
“I can’t believe my own daughter hit me in the face with a rattle and gave me a black eye.”
“Hey at least when asked how you got it, this time you’ll have a truthful answer. Which is actually better than your usual cover stories.”
“I know why we try to keep the dead alive: we try to keep them alive in order to keep them with us. I also know that if we are to live ourselves there comes a point at which we must relinquish the dead, let them go, keep them dead.” – Joan Didion, The Year of Magical Thinking
Michonne didn’t wipe away the tear until it rolled under her chin. She felt immobile staring up at the ceiling trying to wrestle with the emotions that had come upon her. The book lay face down on her chest; hiding the words she just read. With a sigh she sat up and tossed it to the other side of the bed. Her index finger wiped away the tears that were still forming in the corners of her eyes. So much for a little light reading.
Sunshine usually lit their bedroom brightly in the afternoon, but the downcast sky made 2:00 pm look more like 8:00 pm. The dreary day had the kids in a lackadaisical mood. Judith was napping and Carl had barely made a peep since lunch. Any alone time was rare and Michonne knew she should probably enjoy the respite, but she wanted Rick home. He’d been gone since the morning before on an overnight run. Worry wasn’t fueling her need to have him back. She just missed him. At that moment more than ever. Laying next to him brought her more comfort and joy than she felt in a long time.
Downstairs she put a kettle of water on the stove for some tea to help combat the chill that was running through her. Rick’s denim shirt hung off her small frame as she walked over to the kitchen table where a small box stood open. A baby shower was being planned for Maggie and she’d been gathering all the items Judith had outgrown.
A nearly brand new, red Mommy’s Little Helper bib was folded on top. She always bypassed that one when feeding Judith. She couldn’t deal with seeing it around the baby’s neck. Her Peanut had an exact replica years ago.
The pure happiness she’d been feeling lately had shreds of guilt and pain at the edges. It broke her heart that she’d never see her baby boy on this realm again, but she knew it was time to let him go; let him rest in peace. She put her face to the small of cloth and breathed in; almost smelling his sweet scent. The tears she cried this time were happy as she thought of the good times.
The front door creaked open and an exhausted Rick shuffled through. He eased the orange backpack - full of things he’d found for his family - down to the floor. It felt good to be home. All he wanted at the moment was to hug and kiss the kids then wrap himself around Michonne the rest of the day.
He heard the tea kettle whistle from the kitchen and headed in that direction. The sight of his love crying next to the table made his brow crease in worry and set him on alert.
“Michonne? Baby, what’s wrong?” He rushed over to her.
Wordlessly she showed him the bib. He tilted his head to the side in confusion and stared into her eyes. Then it dawned on him. He just knew without her having to say anything.
He pulled her into his arms. “Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.”
Michonne smiled through her tears as she held on to the man she loved. “His name was Andre.”