#vanda basket | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

macgyverbooks · 3 years

Text

The Orc and the Elf

Chapter 6 - Bala almost throws hands

Summary: When Bala flees her home after a terrible attack she never thought she'd find help among the elusive Orc Clans hidden deep in the mountains

Word Count: 4500

Warnings: Angst I guess, do you even need a warning for that??

Notes: Other half or the chopped chapter and im almost as bad at naming chapters as I am writing arguments, pls enjoy 😭

Read on AO3 Here

Chapter Five Here

Chapter Seven Here

The cave became unbearably still in Vanda’s wake. Standing with difficulty, I gathered my new clothes and looked about for somewhere to change. Aside from the pool room, there was nowhere to even crouch behind. Dejah hadn’t moved, arms hung loosely at his sides while his face was set in a deep frown, his eyes drilling holes into the floor. Hobbling over to him juggling the clothes, stick and trying to keep a modicum of decency with the blanket loosely wrapped around my shoulders, I waved a hand in his face, tilting my head down and getting in his eye line.

“Dejah?” I hummed not wanting to startle him.

He blinked rapidly, coming back to himself in an instant and glanced up, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Can you turn around? I need to change,” I said, holding up the bundle in my arms.

He grunted and turned without complaint looking distracted. Shuffling over to the fire, I stripped quickly keeping a wary eye on his back. Fast as I could I yanked on the dress-like undergarment then sighed in delight as I slid the trousers on, the thick material instantly warming up my cold legs. The clothing was a little baggy and too long on the arms, but it didn’t matter, I was warm. Curling my toes appreciatively in the socks I settled down on a pillow and murmured to Dejah it was safe. He returned to his position over the pot, but his eyes looked very far away, his movements slow. Running my hands through my long hair, I winced at the matted locks, tugging them apart with my fingers.

For the first time since I awoke I felt relaxed despite Dejah's strange, looming presence, listening to the crackle of the fire and the methodical scrape and plunk of a knife slicing through potatoes. I was exhausted. With all the moving about earlier, my leg ached to the bone. I shifted about trying to find a more comfortable spot when Dejah spoke

“You Elves don’t ever stop moving, huh?” He drawled, a weak attempt at a congenial expression marring his face

“That a problem?” I said, freezing in place

“No. Just an observation.”

I fought the grimace off my face feigning a polite smile, finding his manner awkward even downright odd, like he was unused to company. Finished with the vegetables he wiped his hands and, with a grunt, reached out to the side his fingertips snagging a wicker basket and pulled out a massive leg of dried meat still on the bone.

Watching him curiously through my hair I felt my eyes bug as the corded muscle on his bare forearms bunched and flexed easily with the weight of the haunch as he hauled it out. The loose cotton shirt he wore riding up his stomach as he reached, exposing the flat expanse his abdomen pulled taught with lean, hard muscle and smooth flesh. My gaze immediately flew to the line of dark hair that led down from his naval disappearing below his belt, then jumped unashamedly to the defined lines of muscle emphasised by the pale tattoos that circled over both his hips.

Sweet Mother. A furious blush blazed across my cheeks and down my neck and I flicked my eyes to the floor. I liked to think I wasn’t completely naive when it came to men. Whether by tending to the wounded that came through our doors or the one or two traders sons I’d had messed about with in the hay barn, I was no stranger to male anatomy. But the skinny, gangling elves I’d seen had nothing on this rock-giant of an Orc. While Dejah was leaner than Vanda, he nevertheless exuded that same feeling of immense strength like he could break me in half without effort. Heat flushed down my throat, alarmed at the thought. *The fuck Bala! Pull yourself together!* The guilt was immediate, hot and shaming like I’d been caught with my hand in the money box.

Shoving more hair in front of my face pretending to work on a particularly nasty tangle, I glanced about furiously, my eyes bouncing about the room to find anything to distract myself. But, like a compass turning north my gaze inevitably drifted back to him, though I instead forced my focus to the more wholesome subject of the numerous tattoos that covered him almost head to toe.

They were strikingly elegant with fine sweeping lines that followed the natural contours of his body, stretching all the way from his knuckles to his throat and further if the ones I’d spied at his hips were any clue. Dense, intricate arrangements of curving repetitive patterns curled around his forearms like scrolls, oddly reminding me of the spell casting circles we’d learnt about as children. The tattoos were multilayered alternated between deep black and pale blue, coiling like smoke over his dark skin. They looked fresh too, the edges sharp and crisp, only the pale cuff-like scars that banded both his wrists marred the beautiful designs. I fought a shiver, thinking of the amount of time and pain it would have taken to finish such detailed work. Just the idea of having razor sharp needles tapped over and over into my skin for hours on end too awful to consider.

Settling back on his stool, the giant haunch of meat resting across his thighs, Dejah paused, biting his lip. A moment passed, my blush blessedly faded when he cleared his throat.

“Before we go into the village, I need to ask you a few things,” his deep voice serious as he started methodically shredding the meat into the pot. “What are your intentions with my people?”

The question was put mildly, but the intensity in his eyes as I glanced up made me pause, his hard unforgiving gaze roaming my face, his eyes lingered on my new tunic and something violent twisted across his mouth then disappeared. His expression sent warning bells ringing in my head, the firm look of expectation telling me he’d already made up his mind - I was a threat. Dread curled in my stomach along with a shot of insult like a slap to the face, my spine stiffening a fraction but I clamped down on the feeling, though my jaw ticked involuntarily.

“How do you mean?” I murmured sweeping my hair back, fighting to keep my voice light and inoffensive, my expression demure and compliant.

He leaned foreword, his head cocked at an angle like a vulture. My eyes flicked to his sharp tusks that jutted aggressively from his lower lip, watching the light catch the wickedly sharp points.

“What?”

“What do you mean?” I enunciated, frustration cutting through my tone before I could stop it. *Calm, stay calm,* I thought taking a deep breath and imagining Mother Calista’s disapproving face. Dejah shrugged, his movements casual and relaxed though his eyes never left mine.

“You elves,” he began slowly, a badly contained sneer rising up on his lip as he spoke, “you hide away in your forests and mountains playing with your little gods and cursed magic tricks. Always so sneaky and secretive. It’s strange that you were attacked so deep in the wilds, don’t you think?”

A stillness gripped the air between us and I leaned away feeling the need for distance as Dejah steadily and expertly stripped the meat from the bone the action appearing almost threatening. My face screwed up into a frown, alarmed and insulted by his line of questioning.

“Your point?”

“You were the only one to escape, correct?” He continued cutting through my question

“I-I think so but-“ I stuttered, my heart lurching as comprehension dawned.

“How did imperial slavers know where to find your home, unless somebody told them. Somebody they let go free as a reward perhaps.” He levelled his gaze on me, his eyes cold and calculated as he scanned my rapidly reddening face.

“My people are dead.” I whispered, eyes wide and fists clenched. “Dead or dragged off to gods knows where, why would I do that to my people?”

How fucking dare he! Who the hell did he think he was? My hands shook as heat flooded my chest, warning tingles shooting down my arms to my fingers. *Breathe, remember your training*. Snatching sharp breaths through my nose I glared at the floor, forcing the bloody images of my foot smashing into Dejahs nose out my head. Closing my eyes I focused on the physical sensations around me, feeling the furs under my fingers, the sound of the fire crackling, seeking that inner quiet beyond the blazing frustration and cold, dark fear. If I hadn’t been so focused I would’ve completely missed the ghostly pinprick of awareness that needled the edges of my mind. The subtle barb of an alien consciousness poking at my mental defences.

I froze, homing in on the foreign sensation. The mind although strange felt curiously familiar, though I couldn’t think how or why. Sensing I was distracted the mind seized the opportunity and attacked, scraping against my barriers with pinpoint ferocity. Wincing I gripped my head and groaned, feeling the attack like knitting needle to the eye. Bolstering my defences I attacked in kind, stabbing outward using all my pent up emotion as fuel to encircle and overwhelm the familiar consciousness. A gasp to my left distracted my onslaught just enough the mind slipped through my fingers like an eel, retreating back into the shadows.

Panting I snapped up and stared at the Orc, his own face drawn and sweating, his hands gripping his temples.

“You…” I began raising a trembling finger, disbelieving my own words as they tumbled out. “You attacked me. With your mind.” Dejah nodded jerkily, sweat dripping down his face wincing at the motion.

“Didn’t work this time though,” he muttered shaking his head.

I reeled back in a mixture of shock and horror. How did *he*, an untrained ogre from the wilds, know how to do that? Touching people’s minds was beyond dangerous, challenging, and to be honest, downright rude. I stared at him like a stunned rabbit, utterly stupefied. Wait, what did he say?

“This time?!” I demanded squishing the urge to scrabble away, feeling more vulnerable than ever. Dejah grunted and shrugged like it was nothing and hefted the meat haunch that still lay across his knees back into its basket.

“Did it by accident while you slept,” he explained. “Didn’t hurt that time though.” He cast me a disparaging look like it was somehow my fault his mental assault had backfired. “Saw what you did with the avalanche though, that was impressive.”

I leapt to my feet, only to immediately collapse to the floor my leg giving out, a pained sob escaping my throat unable to keep it together anymore. Ice poured down my spine begging me to start running and never stop. He’d been in my head, seen my memories. If Dejah could break into minds on a whim I was in far deeper trouble than I thought. I had to get out of here, now. Summoning my magic on reflex I remembered too late as only the faintest tingle flickered at my fingertips, barely a pinch of what I could normally wield and certainly not enough to defend myself with. Fan-fucking-tastic. Watching my internal panic Dejah rose to his feet slowly, hand out as if to grab me. I flinched violently back, keeping out of his reach as best I could scrabbling backward like some deranged spider never taking my eyes of him. Something like regret flickered across his face as he hovered awkwardly his shoulders hunched, only for him to set his jaw and stomp after my mad retreat.

“Don’t touch me!” I shrieked, my injured leg dragging uselessly across the floor as I scooted backwards, almost winding myself as my back slammed into the cave wall.

“You’re bleeding,” Dejah stated matter-of-factly crowding in closer to peer at the growing blood stain on my trouser leg making it difficult to even breathe, his huge body boxing me in against the wall. In a thoughtless moment of panic I threw my hand up igniting the air around my fingers and thrust it toward his face as he crouched down. Moving fast, frighteningly fast for someone his size, Dejah seized my wrist and blinked at the pitiful flames. His grip was firm but surprisingly gentle as he turned my blazing hand this way and that, examining it with open almost childlike curiosity. Tugging uselessly on his grip I hiccupped in great lungfuls of air, his intense fascination distracting enough to give me a breather.

“How-,“ Dejah began then swallowed with a scowl like he was embarrassed to even ask. “How are you doing that?”

I blinked, sideswiped by his question. He can’t be serious? Such a simple thing as summoning fire, even children could do it. But as he stared mutely, the flames lighting his face with a gentle glow, it occurred to me that Dejah wasn’t in the most usual of circumstances. The tension in my stomach eased a touch.

“My Mothers taught me. At-at the Abbey,” I breathed, allowing the flames to sputter out, clenching my fist.

“Right,” Dejah kept hold of my wrist his stare still fixed on my clenched fingers, though his eyes were unfocused and his expression pained like he was lost in some memory. Was this a regular habit of his, I wondered. Twiddling my fingers, the tips flicking his nose he flinched screwing up his face into a grimace and dropped my hand. Shuffling back he rolled up my trouser leg, working quickly and efficiently as he unwound the blood soaked bandages revealing the injury beneath.

The long cut gaped open wide and inflamed, leaking a steady stream of blood onto the floor. Dejah tutted, the noise ending in a frustrated growl before he rose and gathered an armful of supplies, dumping them at my feet. I jerked as a clawed hand grabbed at my knee, the fingers almost meeting under the joint. Planting my hands over my face, I took deep jagged breaths sagging back against the wall. God’s I’ve never felt so exhausted in my life, it was too much. Tears threatened but I forced them back, no way was I going to cry in front of him or anyone else. I heard him settle at my side and place a firm pressure to the wound, a sharp burning sensation forcing a pained gasp from my throat my hands balling into fists. A light tap at my elbow tried to rouse me but I shook my head, not ready to look at him. A gust of warm air tickled the hair on my leg as he sighed.

“Look, I um, I didn’t… I saw everything. I know what you did, I know it wasn’t like that.” He admitted hands hesitating in their work, his voice so quiet I had to prick my ears to hear him. “But I brought you into the village so I had to ask you myself, just to be sure.”

“Why would you even say any of that?” I whispered into my hands. “You break into my head, steal my memories and then accuse me of-,” I cut myself off, my tone rising with each syllable till I was seconds away from all out bawling. *Just to be sure of what?* I wanted to scream. Nothing he said made any kind of sense. My hands shook, nails biting into my palm. I’d never felt so angry in my life. Maybe it was all the stress of the last few days boiling down into this one moment. Or perhaps I was just losing it. Gods this Orc, why was he being such a shit? I couldn’t even begin to figure out his reasoning. A heavy pause fell and I was grateful, the quiet broken only by the soft sounds of fresh bandages wrapping around my thigh. Maybe if I-

“So what you did with the fire, that was… interesting. Did your-uh mothers teach you that mind trick too?”

I slid Dejah a long look from between my fingers, the urge to reach up and throttle him making my fingers twitch. Was a moment of quiet too much to ask?

“Yes,” I snipped, entirely unwilling to have this conversation

“Right, right,” he nodded finishing up with the bandages, tying them up in an almost distracted motion. “So how did they teach you that exactly?”

More heat flared to life in my chest, edged with sharp irritation. For all his mind breaking abilities, Dejah was about as subtle a brick when he wanted something. I could practically smell it on him, his restless curiosity plain as day and grating on my last nerves. I recalled Ada’s hissed instructions and Vanda’s evasive comments the days prior, suspicion raising its ugly head. It was clear Dejah was an outcast of sorts, so it would make sense if he was attempting to use me somehow. Gathering information so he could turn me over, get back in his clan’s good graces. But logic said that didn’t make sense. If he had been in my mind and really seen my memories, he knew everything he needed. If he wanted me exposed or dead he would’ve done it already. Dread dropped like a lead weight in my guts, thoughts and fears boiling in my head until I was ready to explode

“What do you want from me?” I burst out, my hands curling protectively but rather uselessly against my chest, my heart racing. Dejah jerked, my outburst seeming to almost frighten him as his freaky eyes snapped to mine, his own hands fisting on his lap.

“Nothing I was just-“

“Just what?” I nearly shouted back, my shoulders rising finding the way he towered over me more and more unbearable

“I’m interested, why’s that an issue?” he barked throwing his arms wide in frustration

“Cause it’s none of your fucking business that’s why,” I snapped back, suppressing a flinch and matching his anger with my own. He scoffed, his voice going deep with controlled exasperation.

“You made it my business when you begged my people for help.” He sneered, a nasty snarl curling his mouth into a ghastly grin. He shoved to his feet, apparently washing his hands of me

“I did not beg!” I snarled at his retreating back, my pride bristling.

“”I’ll give you anything” sounds a whole lot like begging to me.” He growled out as he sat down hard on his stool, matching my venomous glare with narrowed eyes. I went rigid, gritting my teeth ready to let loose on him again my blood fizzing with rising energy. Dejah hissed out a sharp breath, leaning back and scrubbing his face with both hands. In a matter of seconds, the tension ran out his body and just like that he lowered his hands meeting my seething scowl with a detached expression.

“Look,” he said in a controlled tone hands up in a placating gesture, “lets just back it up a little.”

Adding some more water to the pot and setting it to heat over the fire, he clasped his hands and studied me from under his heavy brow, his bright irises almost glowing through the flames.

“My people saved your life and are out looking for your kin right now,” he explained, his voice measured and frustratingly diplomatic. “What I was *trying* to discuss was a little repayment for those services.” My face screwed up instantly, a snarl building in my throat.

“And you thought accusing me was a great way to start that?”

“Calm down. All I want is for you to teach me.” Dejah enunciating each syllable with an exasperated roll of his eyes, completely ignoring my comment. I felt my eyes flash with a surge of rage then snapped them to the floor.

“Teach you what exactly?” I asked slowly, raising my gaze to squint at him, suspicion practically dripping from my tone. Dejah raised a dark brow, looking me up and down like I was a special kind of moron.

“Magic. Teach me magic.”

I frowned and fiddled with the silver bangles around my wrists suddenly unsure. My order did not forbid teaching non-Elves per se, but it still felt wrong somehow. Like I was breaking some unspoken understanding. Not to mention Ada’s warnings.

“I know Ada spoke to you about the rules,” Dejah said, reading my mind. Stirring the warming stew, adding seasoning and more dried meat he continued with a nonchalant air. “If you agreed to teach me there would be some risk” he admitted, “but I could make it worth your while.”

He dangled the bait and like the sucker I am I caved in an instant, too curious not to at least ask. Not wanting to seem too eager however, I hauled myself up onto my one foot and hopped closer to the fire. Sitting on the stone had sucked the heat right out of my body leaving my joints achey and stiff. Taking my sweet ass time I settled and warmed myself before flicking him a lazy, almost bored look

“How?”

Dejah kept his eyes on the stew, but something about his expression and slope of his shoulders oozed smugness. “In return for teaching me, I’ll teach you,” he replied airily. I narrowed my eyes at him, pride now warring with curiosity

“What could you possibly teach me?” I didn’t bother hiding the derision in my tone. Dejah flicked me an irritated look and tutted

“To fight. You’ve heard the stories no doubt, I have books that could show you how to fight like a Berserker. I know the elves don’t teach that shit.” Pride shined through his every word making it my turn to scoff, rolling my eyes.

To my frustration Dejah had piqued my interest. Orc magic users, or Berserkers as he called them, were rare but stories about them abound in folklore and myth. Great and mighty warriors born from the mysterious Godlands far to the north who almost single-handedly staved off the Imperial incursion decades ago. My people dubbed them heretics and abominations, but I’d read the accounts and sat in awe as the tales were recited by old traders and mercenaries that took shelter at the abbey. If even a handful of the information was real Dejah, no matter how untrained, would be a force to be reckoned with in times to come. *And you could be just as powerful*, a little voice whispered in my mind. But it wasn’t just that.

A fuzzy memory from when I was a child came to mind, of old Mother Hast gathering the gifted noviciate sisters together in a private room. Together we had huddled as Mother Hast described to us with solemn intensity the deep strictures of magic; the forbidden arts of necromancy, clairvoyance and divination. Long ago, she had explained that our race had bound themselves under oaths to never encroach on the territory of the divine. The dead and the future where the realms of the gods and not to be toyed with lest we bring down judgment on ourselves and kin.

What Dejah spoke of however, was a class of magic as feared by Elves as the forbidden arts but not necessarily taboo, and something the Berserkers has perfected into a craft of war. Evocation. The use of raw magic or magic-induced elements for the sole purpose of destruction was how our books described it. The ability to reforge the materiel elements of out world into weapons of prophetic destruction. I bit my lip with a frown, my conscience torn.

“How could you possibly know what the Elves teach?” I growled, irritated with myself that he’d tempted me so thoroughly.

“I know traditionally Elves are not trained to fight. You people are notoriously passive,” Dejah grumbled in a sour tone.

“What is that supposed to mean?” I demanded, but he waved me off refusing to meet my gaze

“No, you said it so explain yourself,” insulted I waited for his response, daring him to say one more thing out of turn. Dejah sighed again and rubbed his eyes looking just as tired as I felt.

“Everyone knows that Elves have no military, no soldiers. Not even your magic users are trained in combat,” he finished with a casual raise of a shoulder.

I glared at him so hard I half expected him to burst into flames. Unknowingly or not Dejah had struck a tender subject, one that had started more than a handful of arguments at the abbey. More old memories surfaced, of the Mothers catching me beating a fellow noviciate with a hairbrush. Bitterly I remembered the Mothers hadn’t cared that I’d watched that very same noviciate dump burning hot soup on a young girls lap and laughed while she wailed. My punishment had been swift and severe. My teeth ground as I stared at the floor, rage slowly melting into an exhausted, dour mood.

I understood the theory behind our races pacifism. It had been drummed into our heads over and over how peace breeds peace and violence begets violence. Still, it didn’t always sit well with me. Elves are a small race, our numbers growing smaller every year but I knew we were strong, strong enough to make a difference if we wanted. Yet as a child my Mothers at the abbey had said I had a wicked spirit for thinking such things. Reading through the history books in my studies only reinforced my doubts. Time after time, as battles through the ages had raged, invasions fought off and monsters slain Elves were nowhere to be seen, hidden away in our mountains and forests.

“Don’t talk about my people. You know nothing of what you speak,” I muttered in low tones staring off to the side.

I felt Dejah glance over, no doubt taking in my rigid frame and grim expression. Out the corner of my eye, I saw him inhale and forcibly relax his shoulders. He let it out in a long gust, looking away as well, a weird mixture of emotions flashed across his face.

“No, I don’t suppose I do.” Serving up the stew he handed me a bowl and retreated away into the shadows.

The cave remained eerily silent after that, both of us wrapped up in our own thoughts as we ate. I passed the time sleeping and occasionally testing my abilities. Igniting then snuffing candles or icing then reheating the awful tea Dejah insisted I keep drinking. My frustration grew as every time my power felt limited and weak with no clear signs of recovery, like the pins and needles in a dead limb never quite fading. Dejah watched all this silently with keen eyes as he sat pretending to read until at long last evening arrived.

Big thanks to the two people who like liked my shitty writing@peachamerica and @p7rettyas8hley225nguyen one of you may be a bot but the next chapters are for you babes✨

Read on AO3 Here

Chapter Five Here

Chapter Seven Here

4 notes · View notes

alohahawaiiorchids · 3 years

Text

Vanda Culture Sheet

www.hiorchids.com

The Vanda Alliance is made up mostly of warm- and full-sun-growing orchids with colorful flowers. Originating in tropical Asia, they are easily grown in warm climates, where plants are cultivated outside in the light shade, such as in a lath house. In climates where winters are cold, they are often summered outside and grown inside during the winter in a sunny window, or year-round in a greenhouse. Smaller growing ascocendas are best outside tropical conditions.

Light is a crucial factor in blooming most vandaceous plants. There are three types of vandas: strap-leaved, semi-terete and terete. The first type has broader, flat leaves, while terete types have round, pencil-shaped leaves. The semi-teretes are hybrids between the two, with an intermediate leaf shape. Terete types need full sun, and are best grown in high-light climates. In a greenhouse, give the plants about 25 to 35 percent shade, less in winter if overcast. Leaves should be medium green, not dark green. In warm, bright climates, you can grow any type of Vanda outside (if warm) with partial shade for strap-leaved types and semi-teretes (especially in midday in summer) or inside (when cold) in a bright, south window. In climates where winters are overcast, try ascocendas. Grow them outside in summer and in the full sun inside during the winter. Be careful to aclimatize plants to avoid burn.

Temperatures for most vandas should be warm; a minimum night temperature of 55° F is recommended. Colder spells can be tolerated for a short time if it is not windy. Optimum temperatures are 60° to 70° F at night, and a maximum of 95° F during the day. Warmer temperatures mean faster growth, which must be balanced with higher humidity, air movement, and increased water and fertilizer. Days should be warm and humid for optimum plant growth.

Water should be applied copiously when the plants are growing, but the roots must dry quickly. Because of this, and their extensive root system, they are mostly grown in slatted-wood baskets, or in pots with a coarse potting medium. If their situation is warm and sunny, they may need daily watering. Water sparingly in the winter or during cloudy weather.

The humidity of 80 percent is ideal. In tropical climates, this may be easy to obtain. In a greenhouse, this is easier to provide by using an evaporative cooler. In the home, place the plants on trays of gravel partially filled with water. Air movement must be strong.

Fertilize with a balanced (such as 20-20-20) fertilizer applied full strength once a week during warm weather or use a one-quarter-strength solution at every watering. During cool or cloudy weather, apply fertilizer once every two to four weeks. Use a high-phosphorus fertilizer (such as 10-30-20) every third application to promote flowering.

Potting should be done in the spring. Plants in baskets do not need to be repotted often. Leave them unless the potting medium breaks down. Set the plant, with the old basket intact, into a container of water to make the aerial roots more pliable, and then set plant and basket into a larger basket. For plants in pots, repot in a slightly larger pot, positioning the plant in the center. Use a coarse medium, whether fir bark, tree fern or charcoal, and work it around the roots. Keep shaded, humid, but drier at the roots until new root tips grow. Do not overpot.

For more about Vanda Orchids please visit www.hiorchids.com

#orchids #plants

1 note · View note

sidnazpro2020 · 3 years

Text

‘God Told Me to Put Money Into Hertz’: Small Investors Are | Sidnaz Blog

Many small investors are beating Wall Street pros at their own game. A basket of stocks favored by individuals has outperformed the broader market since March of last year, according to Vanda Research. This group, which includes behemoths like Apple Inc. and Tesla Inc. alongside electric-vehicle maker NIO Inc. and digital-payments company Square Inc., has gained 68% since the beginning of March…

View On WordPress

1 note · View note

greenbarnorchidsupplies · 1 year

Text

Buy Best Orchid Pots for Your Healthier Plants - Green Barn Orchid

If you plant a Phalaenopsis orchid in a pot that is large enough, but not too crowded, to accommodate the roots, it will grow better. At Green Barn Orchid, our Orchid Pot have been carefully selected and prepared in consultation with orchid specialists. Please feel free to contact us: (561) 499-2810 & visit our site: www.greenbarnorchid.com to know more about us.

#Orchid Bench #Vanda Baskets #Orchid Baskets #Orchid Pots #Tree fern totem #Moss Poles

1 note · View note

papermoonloveslucy · 6 years

Text

LUCY AND THE RAFFLE

S3;E19 ~ January 18, 1971

Directed by Ross Martin ~ Written by Ray Singer & Al Schwartz

Synopsis

Kim wins a fast sports car in a raffle, but Lucy won't let her keep it. To pay the taxes on her win, they hold another raffle not knowing that it is illegal. Lucy, Kim, and Harry are all arrested and hauled in to court!

Regular Cast

Lucille Ball (Lucy Carter), Gale Gordon (Harrison Otis Carter), Lucie Arnaz (Kim Carter)

Desi Arnaz Jr. (Craig Carter) does not appear in this episode, but he does receive opening title credit.

Guest Cast

Hayden Rorke (Judge Gibson) played one of the “New Neighbors” (ILL S1;E21), Tom O'Brien, who moved into the Mertz apartment building and are believed to be spies (but actually are just actors). Rorke trained at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts and made his television debut on “I Love Lucy.” Ironically, so did Barbara Eden, who played the title role in the sitcom that Rorke is best known for, “I Dream of Jeannie.” In 1947, he appeared on stage with Lucille Ball in Dream Girl. Rorke played the incredulous Dr. Alfred Bellows from 1965 to 1970, even returning for a “Jeannie” reunion special in 1985, his last screen project. He died in 1987.

Although the Judge’s name is not spoken aloud, his daughter, Betty Gibson, is named earlier in the episode as the winner of the raffle.

SPOILER: The Little Old Lady (Florence Lake) is his mother!

Paul Picerni (IRS Agent Frank Williams) makes the second of his four appearances on “Here’s Lucy.” He also appeared with Lucille Ball in the 1975 TV movie “Lucy Gets Lucky.” Picerni was a cast member of Desilu's “The Untouchables” from 1959 to 1963.

Picerni introduces this episode on the series DVD.

Rhodes Reason (Lieutenant Egan) marks the fourth of his five episodes of “Here’s Lucy” having previously appeared in “Lucy, the Matchmaker” (S1;E12) and “Lucy and the Gold Rush” (S1;E13). He also appeared with Lucille Ball (and Little Old Lady Florence Lake) in the 1974 TV movie “Happy Anniversary and Goodbye.”

Although the character identifies himself as Lieutenant Egan, the end credits list him as Detective Haggerty.

Robert Foulk (Permit Office Clerk at Window D) played the policeman on the Brooklyn subway platform in “Lucy and the Loving Cup” (ILL S6;E12) and a Los Angeles Detective in “Lucy Goes To A Hollywood Premiere” (TLS S4;E20). This is the first of his six characters on “Here’s Lucy,” two of which are also policemen.

Sid Gould (Permit Office Clerk at Window C) made more than 45 appearances on “The Lucy Show,” and nearly as many on “Here’s Lucy.” Gould (born Sydney Greenfader) was Lucille Ball’s cousin by marriage to Gary Morton and was married to Vanda Barra (Waitress).

Irwin Charrone (Permit Office Clerk at Window B) made five appearances on “The Lucy Show.” The expressive character actor also did an equal number of “Here’s Lucy” episodes. He died in January 2016 in Maplewood, New Jersey, at the age of 93.

Jody Gilbert (Woman in Permit Line aka “Mrs. Kong”) appeared with Lucille Ball and Gale Gordon on the 1952 special “Stars in the Eye” celebrating the opening of CBS’s new Television City studios. She played a prison matron in her only appearance on both “The Lucy Show” and in her next and final appearance on “Here's Lucy.”

Larry J. Blake (Man at the Front of the Permit Line) appeared as a Native American Medicine Man in “Lucy the Rain Goddess” (TLS S4;E15). He was an ex-vaudevillian making the third of his eight “Here’s Lucy” appearances.

Florence Lake (Little Old Lady aka Mrs. Gibson) did four films with Lucille Ball between 1936 and 1938. This is her second and final episode of the series – both times as a classic Little Old Lady. She went on to appear in the 1974 TV movie “Happy Anniversary and Goodbye” starring Lucille Ball and Rhodes Reason (Lt. Egan).

Emile Autuori (Officer Collins, First Bailiff) makes the second of his six appearances on “Here’s Lucy.” He passed away in early 2017. He was the uncle of writer / director P.J. Castalleneta.

Although not spoken aloud, his name tag reads “Collins.”

John J. 'Red' Fox (Second Bailiff) was best known for playing policemen, which is what he did on five of his eight appearances on “The Lucy Show” as well as three of his five episodes of “Here’s Lucy.”

Vanda Barra (Waitress) was Lucille Ball’s cousin-in-law and married to Sid Gould (Permit Office Clerk at Window C). This is just one of her over two dozen appearances on “Here’s Lucy” as well as appearing in Ball’s two 1975 TV movies “Lucy Gets Lucky” (with Dean Martin) and “Three for Two” (with Jackie Gleason). She was seen in half a dozen episodes of “The Lucy Show.”

Jack Berle (Detective, uncredited, right) was the older brother of Milton Berle. This is one of his eleven uncredited appearances on the series. He previously did two episodes of “The Lucy Show.”

Berle plays the Detective who arrests Harry, but has no dialogue.

Leon Alton (Courtroom Spectator, uncredited) appeared with Lucille Ball in The Facts of Life (1960) and Critic’s Choice (1963). He was in two episodes of “The Lucy Show.” This is the last of his three episodes of “Here’s Lucy.”

Shep Houghton (Courtroom Spectator, uncredited) began working as an extra while still a teenager, taking background jobs on weekends and attending high school during the week. Between 1934 and 1947 he made three films with Lucille Ball, including Too Many Girls, the movie that brought together Lucy and Desi Arnaz. He did two episodes of “The Lucy Show” and this, his only episode of “Here’s Lucy.” Houghton was one of the Winkie Guards in 1939’s The Wizard of Oz and a Southern Dandy in Gone With the Wind (1939).

Others at the Permit Office and in the courtroom are played by uncredited background performers.

January 19, 1971, the day after this episode first aired, Desi Arnaz Jr. (Craig Carter) celebrated his 18th birthday. Ironically, he does not appear in this episode.

When Lucy complains that the car her daughter won goes too fast (160mph!), Kim promises to put a governor in the car. Lucy says “Ronald Reagan has enough to worry about without riding around with you!” Former Hollywood actor Ronald Reagan had been elected Governor of California in 1967, a position he held until 1975. He was later elected 40th President of the United States and served until 1989. He was previously mentioned in the second episode of the series, “Lucy Visits Jack Benny” (S1;E2).

We learn that Harry plays croquet.

When the woman at the back of the line (Jody Gilbert) gets snide with Lucy, she says “Thank you Mrs. Kong. Give my regards to your son, King.” King Kong (1933) was a Hollywood film about a giant gorilla that attacked Manhattan. A sequel titled Son of Kong was released that same year.

When Lucy and Kim stack up the money they've made from their raffle, Lucy says “Oh, ho ho! You jolly green giant!” The Jolly Green Giant was the advertising character used to promote Green Giant Frozen Vegetables. Their ubiquitous TV commercial jingle went: “In the valley of the giant – ho ho ho – Green Giant!” The character was previously mentioned in “Lucy and Tennessee Ernie's Fun Farm” (S1;E23).

The winning raffle ticket belongs to Betty Gibson, a college friend of Kim's.

This episode is primarily based on "Ricky's European Booking" (ILL S5;E10) in which Lucy Ricardo and Ethel Mertz illegally raffle off a television set to fund their trip to Europe.

The Lucy character has been in the courtroom in front of many judges over the past 20 years:

“The Courtroom” (ILL S2;E7) in 1952, in which Moroni Olsen was the judge.

“Lucy Takes a Cruise To Havana” (LDCH) in June 1957, in which Jorge Trevino was the judge.

“Lucy Makes Room for Danny (LDCH) in December 1958, in which Gale Gordon was the judge.

“Lucy and the Runaway Butterfly (TLS S1;E29) in 1963, in which Ernest Sarracino was the judge.

“Lucy is Her Own Lawyer” (TLS S2;E23) in 1964, in which John McGiver was the judge.

“Lucy, the Metermaid” (TLS S3;E7) in 1964, in which Parley Baer was the judge.

“Lucy and the Soap Opera” (TLS S4;E19) in 1966, in which Sid Gould (who appears here as one of the Permit Office Clerks), played a judge in a TV soap opera. Which neatly brings things full circle!

FAST FORWARD!

Alan Rich plays Judge Cameron Potter in “Lucy, Legal Eagle” (S1;E7) aired on November 8, 1986.

Props! When Kim is shaking up the basket full of raffle tickets for Lucy to pick the winner, one ticket pops out. Lucie Arnaz says “Woops!” and pops it back in again.

“Lucy and the Raffle” rates 3 Paper Hearts out of 5

This episode isn't as compact and well-written as its inspiration, but it does feature a large cast of terrific actors and has a few laughs, too.

6 notes · View notes

rememberyou-rememberme · 5 years

Text

Companion Plants

To enable the most suitable environment to be created for your orchids, the best place to keep them is in a greenhouse. By devoting the whole area to orchids, you can concentrate on getting the conditions just right.

If you are starting from scratch, there are many different greenhouse designs from which to choose; select whichever one best suits the position and aesthetics of your home. Consider the position of the greenhouse carefully. If the structure is built under deciduous trees, they will provide the necessary shade in summer, but evergreen trees will also block the light during the dull months of the year when it is needed. Having the greenhouse in an open position makes it easier to control the light levels, since you can apply and remove shading at different times of the year as required. Use shade netting attached to the roof or apply shading paint to the glass, or a combination of both. Remember, though, that a greenhouse in an exposed position will not be sheltered from the wind, which can cause extensive damage.

Wooden greenhouses tend to dry out more slowly than metal ones, so you may want to bear this in mind. Traditionally, all greenhouses were made of glass sheets; this is still the cheapest way of providing a strong shell, but the glass can break, especially in windy weather. Polycarbonate sheeting, although more expensive initially, is an extremely economical method of greenhouse roofing and can be obtained in many different forms. It comprises two or three layers of rigid plastic sheet, joined by thin walls that hold the sheets apart, forming air pockets which provide excellent insulation. The polycarbonate can also be tinted to give permanent shade.

If your greenhouse is glass, extra insulation can be created by lining it with thick bubble-plastic sheeting. This also helps to block any draughts. Regular inspections should be made to close any gaps that form between the panes.

Positioning Plants

Strong, moveable staging is essential for your orchids and can be set at whatever height suits you and the plants. Larger plants can be positioned closer to the ground, for example, and smaller ones higher up. The staging should be made of open slats or mesh to enable water to drain away freely from the bases of the pots. To increase the available space in your house, think of it in three dimensions, using the space above the staging to hang orchids in baskets or hanging pots. Those that prefer more light will enjoy being higher up and will create a little shade for the ones underneath. Take care not to pack your house too full though, as this can reduce the light reaching the plants and they may not grow or flower as well.

You may also like to make use of the walls by growing plants mounted on pieces of cork bark. These can be suspended on mesh fixed to the sides of the greenhouse where they can be sprayed regularly to keep them moist.

Companion Plants

The space underneath the benches can be a little dark for most orchids but is ideal for companion plants that enjoy a shady, humid spot, such as ferns, bromeliads and other foliage plants. Keep these in pots or plant them in the ground under the benches. Check these plants regularly as they can harbour pests that may spread on to your orchids.

The companion plants also help to increase the humidity in the greenhouse. Rainforest plants do not live alone and will grow better in the company of other plants.

Humidity

Humidity is easy to create in a greenhouse by damping down the floor with water each morning, especially in hot weather. In cooler or dull weather, spraying is not so essential and can be damaging to flowers and sometimes even the plants themselves if the water collects on the foliage. You can also apply a light misting to the orchids’ leaves, including the undersides. As well as raising humidity, this helps to keep them free of dust and pests.

Certain orchids such as vandas, which grow without any compost around their roots, rely on regular misting to prevent dehydration.

Watering

Misting can be done on a daily basis, but this may not provide enough water for many orchids. They also need to be given water at their roots and this is easily done when they are growing in a greenhouse. For greater efficiency, use a watering lance attached to a hosepipe that is long enough to reach all the plants without the need to continually refill a watering can. The lance can be used with a variety of roses and misting heads to suit most needs. If you cannot arrange a mains water supply in your greenhouse, set up a water tank inside which can be filled regularly. This means the water will be at a warmer temperature to use in the winter. Try to fill the tank with rainwater.

Heating

If you are growing orchids that require warmer temperatures, you will obviously need to heat the house more often, so the most efficient method is preferable. With gas-fuelled heating, it is important that there is plenty of ventilation, as the fumes can be harmful to the plants as well as to the grower if allowed to build up. If you are not able to connect to a gas main, a paraffin heater will work well. Electric fan heaters are effective at circulating the heat around the greenhouse but can create a rather dry atmosphere, so regular spraying maybe necessary to maintain the humidity. Oil heaters are not as cost-effective but can be used as a back-up system in case of emergency.

#Flower Gardening #companion plants #growing orchids tips #positioning plants #orchid growing advice

0 notes