Nvrmnd @nvrmnd-9 - Tumblr Blog

Watching my toddler figure out how to language is fascinating. Yesterday we were stumped when he kept insisting there was a “Lego winner” behind his bookshelf - it turned out to be a little Lego trophy cup. Not knowing the word for “trophy”, he’d extrapolated a word for “thing you can win”. And then, just now, he held up his empty milk container and said, “Mummy? It’s not rubbish. It’s allowed to be a bottle.” - meaning, effectively, “I want this. Don’t throw it away.” But to an adult ear, there’s something quite lovely about “it’s allowed to be a bottle,” as if we’re acknowledging that the object is entitled to keep its title even in the absence of the original function.

legit-writing-tips

Another good post to read for those writing small human characters.

jennytrout

My son was about three when he came to me in the middle of the day and said, “Mommy, there’s a knight behind the bush.” I thought he meant a toy knight or something. So I follow him outside and he goes, “Listen. Do you hear it? It’s night behind the bush.” It was a cricket. A cricket was standing in the little patch of shade under the bush, chirping. So, my son saw this dark area with accompanying nighttime sounds and decided, okay, well, that is a night right there. Their brains are incredible.

deleted20211121

My little bean knows she’s two, constantly saying proudly ‘I’m two!’ And the other day she saw this very frail old lady who looked one foot in the grave, pulled a face and said ‘oh shiiiit. She’s three.’ I almost screamed.

cantnotknope

I live in Korea and have a lot of international friends, and the same is true with language barriers in adults.

*Looking at a bowl of pears* “Can you please pass me the… apple’s friend?”

rivie-art

i hope you find your way in this world. i hope one day you find your home.

trippiest

what a beautiful day to not be in high school

gayofthefae

This is the like those “remember to be grateful you don’t have a sore throat right now” posts. It IS a beautiful day to not be in high school! Thank you!

psychotic-gerard

Draw badly. Write nonsensically. Embroider messily. Burn what you bake and cook. Get paint everywhere. Read half a book. Lose your mind for a bit. Plant things. Have faith in the process. Abandon 70 wood-carving projects. Get a kit and do some of it and never return to it. Get comfortable with sucking and losing motivation. Continue to create with reckless abandon.

nvrmnd-9

Always reblog

teddy-stonehill

I went to the local aviary today and they had some really mean things to say about owls.

teddy-stonehill

elodieunderglass

I can confirm that most birds have a detectable amount of wiring behind the eyes - blinking lights and buttons and sliders and frizzy things that spark and chirp and beep. They also have a lot of soul that can communicate with ours because the programming is fairly compatible. Vultures are clever and curious, swans are clear and lawful, chickens have a lot of personality, caged parrots are dissociated and disinherited and frankly worrying, falconry-trained birds of prey are tremendously businesslike.

And owls are absolutely lovely beasts with their own irreplaceable validity. but they are basically stuffed with polyester fiberfill. They have one button, like a child's toy dinosaur that opens and closes its mouth when you press the back of its head. And it isn't even a sophisticated electronic button it's just a lever that rocks back and forth to make the claws open and close. I think they may have actually evolved independently from sponges. Their skulls simply exist to create holes that funnel sound and light, and as a place to hang a giant hinged beak. An owl is just an empty tube like a windchime that the wind whistles through, and you can drop meat down it. They use the meat to generate feathers, and then emit the bones in pressed little packages like those machines that flatten a penny and stamp it with the logo of a theme park. I think that's the gist of it - most birds are electronics of varying levels of sophistication, but owls are just a system of levers and pulleys. No elevator music in those skulls, just the wind echoing through empty caverns of slightly irritating design. Absolutely fantastic.

dek0pon

beetle table <3 maple, white oak, walnut

fan-art-ic

Just so everyone is aware because I didn’t realize at first,

OP MADE THIS TABLE AND IT IS SICK AF

locuas642

The thing about Katara is that she was angry.

She was angry that the Fire Nation killed her mother.

She was angry that her father left them.

She was angry that she was the only Waterbender left in the south pole.

She was angry that the only person her age was her brother, who constantly disregarded her interests and her role in the tribe.

She was angry that what little waterbending she knew, had to be self-taught and how she struggled with that.

she was angry that a twelve year old instantly picked up what had taken her a long time to learn.

she was also angry that her tribe wanted to kick that twelve year old into the wilderness over a mistake.

she was angry over the earth-benders the fire nation had captured and put into a metal box.

she was angry.

And she knew she was angry.

Because she knew her own anger, she was the first to empathize with Aang when he got angry.

And it was because of it she could tell Aang forcing himself to lock his emotions up was not the answer.

Because she knew her own anger, she kept herself under control in the dessert, when everyone else was a mess.

Her anger empowered her. where anger was a tool of self-destruction for firebenders, for her it was what helped her push forward.

It was her anger that freed Aang.

It was her anger that helped her stand to Pakku.

Her anger was her strenght.

She was angry. And this was neither a mistake, nor a writing flaw.

catchymemes

trashybooksforladies

make me choose ↳ taystee or poussey (asked by mybodywakesup)

I lived and worked in a lighthouse at a previous job. There was a thick line painted in a circle around the shack where the fog signal was kept. The line represented how close you could get to the fog signal without experiencing physical harm in the form of eardrums shattering or worse.

Even in the house it was LOUD. Probably the loudest thing I have ever experienced but at a normal, predictable interval. You would begin to time your sentences with little pauses with the rest of the lighthouse crew so you would talk like this while making your………..HORN…………. tea and then carry on talking because you knew when it would go off. It rattled the walls and the dishes in our cabinet.

At least one girl had died there. They kept photos of her everywhere “in honor of her sacrifice” because she had decided to take the winter watch alone and died in a storm where bounders the size of mini vans had been lifted out of the ocean and left scattered across the island, to say nothing of the ice chunks. People weren’t allowed to be alone on the watch after that.

One day a dead moose washed up on shore and it took my entire crew all day but we managed to rig up a line to hang it up to dry because we thought having a moose skeleton in the house would really spice the living room up a bit. It did. Weird shit happens when six of you are left alone, like ALONE ALONE, no cell reception, no wifi, just a radio to contact the real world and not a lot of reason to do that. People don’t go on lighthouse jobs if they want to stay connected, I’ve found.

That said Id do it all again, I really do treasure those days