The best thing about new zealand english is we get to pick and choose what we like from american english and british english.

The bad thing is that sometimes we choose wrong.

Like. Americans have fries and chips vs brits have chips and crisps. Both valid.

Here? We have chips and chips.

Youd think it'd be fine and that you can figure out which one a person is talking about from context but trust me a good percentage of the time you cannot. And often the person will try to differentiate them by clarifying they meant "Potato chips" only for them to realise a second later that both chips are made from potatoes

I shouldn't make fun but that last part is DEEPLY hilarious to me

We Indians have the same problem, from what I've experienced.

oh no, a new branch of lemonade discourse

It’s not just that the leaves will break down on their own (and enrich the soil while they’re at it!). During the winter, all sorts of insects use leaf litter for shelter, and they’re the first food available to larvae in early spring. Leaves also insulate the plants under them during the winter, which is important if you’re in an area prone to frost heaving.

One of the best thing you can do for native pollinators in your area is Leave the Leaves!

My mom stopped raking her leaves when she found out about this but her neighbor used his leaf blower to clear out her yard the first year she decided to try. So she started posting a Leave the Leaves sign in the yard each year with an explanation about why it’s good and two winters later only one house still rakes their lawn each year.

We’ve seen a dramatic increase in the biodiversity in the neighborhood since. We have birds that we haven’t seen since we moved into the city from living rurally and those birds are starting to nest in the trees and gardens in spring. The swallows and bats are back at night. The single woodpecker we would only occasionally see visits daily and even has a friend that has joined it. We have more squirrels and rabbits and shockingly fewer moles and voles. We heard an owl outside last fall.

Leave the leaves indeed.

not to sound corny but the textile arts make me feel connected to the world around me. it's so intentional and deliberate and when i sit and do it, i think a lot about how many other women that came before me used to do it, how many hands have used the same supplies i am using, and how many other people might be doing the same thing as me all across the world right now

Outsmarted by an orange cat, how embarrassing

Adopted by an orange cat, how heartwarming

cheer up 😚

A goddamn legend walks among us

depends, did he tell Odyseuss, ’cause that dude is a gossip

A goddamn legend walks among us

I’ll say it again, please just grit your teeth and vote for Biden…

Its always such a shock to go back to s2 and see David Tennant utterly baby faced. Wdym thats the Doctor? who let this child on set. Let the dilf energy cook for a few years first.

Like he's still 34 on the left but damnnn man. So young. Where are your old man wrinkles at.

To a lesser extent this also applies to s2 vs s4 vs the Specials. In every comparison going back to s2 is just a little strange. He is just so baby. Isn't done cooking yet. Anyway, aging is real. Who woulda thought it.

I’ve been making gay knights (and ladies) collages on my phone at work

(Part two)

They say you die three times, first when the body dies, second, when your body enters the grave, and third, when your name is spoken for the last time. You were a normal person in life, but hundreds of years later, you still haven’t had your “third” death. You decide to find out why.

You sold some shitty copper, man, I don’t know what to tell you

A story within a story where a mother sits her rowdy children down and tells them a story about a the world's sweetest, kindest mother who never lost her temper, never cursed and never yelled at her children, no matter how rowdy they could get. She would only gently, kindly told them to not do the dangerous things. One day she sweetly, kindly told her children to not go play at the riverbank, because it's dangerous and they might slip on the rocks, fall into the water, and die. Her children do not listen. They go play at the riverbank, where they slip on the rocks, fall into the water, and die.

And the sweet perfect mother of the story comes to the riverbank, sees that all her children drowned, and starts crying so bitterly that angels overhear her, and the angels say to each other, "she does not deserve this, this woman has never done anything wrong in her life, this should not have happened to her", and feeling great pity for her, bring her children back to life, and after that they always listened to their mother and lived happily ever after.

And the storyteller's children, who at this point are familiar with the concept that these stories are supposed to have some sort of a moral or lesson in them, interject to point out that their mother hasn't always done everything perfectly, she isn't always sweet, curses a lot, and as a matter of fact loses her shit at her kids all the time. She isn't like the mother of the story at all.

And their mother agrees: Her children are correct. She is not a perfect mother who has never done anything wrong. Angels will not have pity on her, and they will not bring her little shits back to life if they go to the river and die. So they better fucking not go get themselves killed in the first place.

Random worldbuilding: A culture where everyone's social status is expressed through how their hair is braided.

Children all have the same kind of a simple, unisex "child's braid" which is meant for their parents to be easy to do - traditionally boys were only taught how to do a "wife's braid" while women braid both their husbands and their children, but a modern man is naturally an attentive father and contributes to both cleaning and feeding, and clothing and braiding his children.

While this kind of knowledge is more accessible in the modern age, the art of braiding is still seen as an intimate family thing, and it's not unusual for a youth to come out to their parents by the way of braids - for example a daughter asking her father to teach her how to do the "wife's braid", or a son asking her mother how to weave the "husband braid" for their future spouse. Or a trans kid asking their parents to give them the other gender's braid when it's time to transition from the child braid into the "unmarried youth" one.

It is nonetheless still somewhat common to see an older gay man with a "wife's braid" or two older women both wearing "husband braids", because that was the only way they were taught to braid a future partner's hair when they were young. They could learn the "appropriate" braid now, but it has become a part of the culture, an old-fashioned gay thing to do. It's pride - if you wear this braid to show that you're an adult with a spouse, why try to hide who braids your hair every morning?

The only braid that one is expected to do on themselves is the widow's braid - the only one that is also unisex, braided in reverse from the simple children's braid. Sometimes, young unmarried adults who have no interest in starting a family switch directly into wearing a widow's braid to signify that they are not looking for a partner and are independent adults on their own.

fascinating. what would be expressed by someone who has no hair? Is shaving someone's head a war crime (i.e. something that was done to captured prisoners)? Is it a way to say "I'm queer"? What about wigs? Weaves? Does the color (or colors) of hair have additional meaning? What about hair ornaments like clips, feathers, flowers, etc.? Does the length of hair have another layer of meaning? Is it shameful to wear a head covering (hat, hood, or scarf)? how does that intersect with the weather?

Doing more than one? Choose whichever you found the most helpful. ❤️