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The Hunter's Journey - ep 64
First / Previous / Next | Wiki ----------------------------- When James woke the next morning, it was to the sound of Lafalla attempting to search the house as quietly as possible, and he realised he had played his hand way too early. She knew there was more chocolate and she was determined to find it. He began to debate whether or not he should go out there and stop her, or just wait for her to sneak back into the room before the morning alarm went off, but that decision was made for him as he heard her lightly step into the room. He stayed laid down and closed his eyes as she carefully climbed back into bed. He waited until she relaxed, making her think she got away with it. “How much did you find?” he asked. Lafalla let out a small squeal as she realised she had been caught red handed. “...Three bars.” “Which ones?” “The one under the cushions, the one in your bag, and the one behind the plant arrangement. How many are there?” “Four” he lied. “I found five." “Eight. And no, you’re not having all of them. I want to keep a couple to duplicate in the future.” “How have you managed to hide eight from me for so long?” “I haven't, Master Cellone made them as part of a demonstration of item duplication on Friday. I only hid two before that.” “She knows about them? She’s going to try and get some for herself!” “She already has some. It was a kind of payment for performing the spell.” “You do realise she is just going to make more, don’t you?” she asked. “I do, but I’m not worried. I’d rather something like this become common than we run out and never have it again. Besides, I think people should at least have the chance to try some at one point in their lives or another.” “I wanted it to be our thing…” “Sorry about that.” “Oh well, I guess we’re just going to have to find something else to be ours.” "We’ll have to see if we can get the ingredients when the traders come next, but maybe we can try making some pancakes, I think you’ll like them. So then, do you want to do anything today? Other than looking for chocolate that is." "We could make some caramel" she suggested hopefully. "We don't have the ingredients. We're going to need to get cream and butter from the traders when they come next, and we're going to need to figure out how to get sugar from some plants. Normally we'd use sugar beet or sugarcane, but I doubt the traders would bother trading an otherwise useless plant from whatever you call Germany or Poland, or be shipping goods from whatever Indonesia is here." "Is that going to be a problem?" "Nah, I'm sure we will be able figure out a spell that will work. I know sugar is stored in most plants, it's just figuring how to get it out." “Well then, the Elven traders should be coming in about a month, and while they generally don’t sell too much cream and stuff, they often do sell some. I doubt it will be cheap, so we might want to get some money together. Maybe we could figure something like that out?” “If you have the mana to spare, I’m sure we could make a few mana crystals in a month to sell. They’re quite expensive from what I understand.” “They normally sell for two or three gold, but if we turn up with a bunch as I think the masters will, they’ll either think they’re fake, or at least demand to pay less as something is obviously up” she sighed. “Even if they sell for less, that’s still a lot of money, especially as they are fairly quick to make compared to before. Hmm, I wonder if there is a way to grow them in a crystal growth b-” James was interrupted by the morning alarm going off. They decided that it was probably their cue to start getting up. Whilst James was cooking their breakfast, he looked out the window and saw that it had started to rain. It wasn’t heavy, but he knew how much Lafalla hated getting wet when it wasn’t in the shower, so they were going to be staying inside today. The breakfast was uneventful, and they ended up getting a couple of board games out to pass some of the time, but they only managed to make it through most of the morning before they'd had enough. “Board games were better when I was a kid, but now, not so much” Lafalla sighed. “Yeah, I get that. They aren’t that bad, but compared to what we have back home, they don’t live up to much” he replied. “I’m curious, what do adult Humans do to pass the time?” “Before or after computers?” “Both I guess, but we don’t have computers so I’m not sure how helpful it will be.” “After computers, well, we have T.V., radio, computer games, and so on. It’s kind of hard to explain as you don’t have any of those. Before computers, well….” “Well what?” she asked, confused. “What do you think two bored adults would do in their own time?” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t follow.” “Let’s just say Human families used to be a lot bigger than they are nowadays.” “What does that… oh. Maybe when we haven’t only been together for a few weeks.” “Well you asked, but that wasn’t a no.” “How about we make the mana crystal the mana source for the house? That’s something we could do?” she asked him. “Sure, I guess if you don’t want to have some fun that is.” “Do you want to sleep on the cushions tonight?” “Where’s the mana crystal then?” It turned out Lafalla had already put the mana crystal in a stand underneath the mana basin that was already running the house, and all that was left was the spell work. She began to plan on how exactly she was going to make the replacement spell work, and was going to make the crystal a direct replacement for the pool, but James interrupted her and suggested that maybe they could keep the crystal and mana pool supplying the house in tandem. It would allow for them to be able to drink the liquid mana if they needed to, as well as providing more mana storage. It wasn’t easy to explain the best way to do it, as his idea was to make more mana flow into the crystal as the mana pool got stronger, but Lafalla realised what he was getting onto, and had to shoot him down in the end as that wasn’t going to work with the way mana was pulled from the surrounding plants. In the end, James stood back and let Lafalla use her greater experience of magic to implement the best solution. Once she was happy with the spell, she began to imagine her mana whipping and wrapping around the spell like vines of light. The act of whipping the vines at her target spell with her mind wasn’t exactly the quickest nor gentlest method, but it was what worked for her. It was after around ten minutes worth of attempts before enough vines were wrapped around the spell to transfer the mana quickly enough for the persistent spell to come into being, and the spells of the house began to pull mana from the crystal. Thankfully she’d had the foresight to fill the crystal with some spare mana to keep things running while she moved onto the next step where she moved each strand of mana from her plants so they were now attached to the crystal instead of the mana basin, although she decided to keep a small patch of grass outside of her house still feeding into the mana pool so they could drink from the pool if they needed to without it running out of mana completely. She was surprised when the strands seemed to tighten instead of being slightly loose. “There we go, all done!” she exclaimed happily. “Good job, first try as well” he congratulated her. “The best part is that the mana crystal is slightly more efficient at storing mana than liquid mana is if done correctly, and I think I managed to do it.” “Meaning?” “Slightly less mana will be wasted when it’s being transferred into the crystal.” “So more mana? That is good news. So, what’s next?” “That’s it, we’re done.” “Wait, really? Well, we can have lunch then.” James cooked them up a quick lunch and began to think about what they could do for the rest of the day. He couldn’t think of anything immediately productive or fun that they would want to do at the moment. ‘If only we had half the things I had back in the UK, we could watch a movie or something…. Wait, I have my phone, why don’t we try to charge it?’ he thought. As they ate, he began to think about how they could go about charging it. The two options he came up with were to either directly charge the battery, which could be difficult to explain correctly to Lafalla and potentially very dangerous, or he could try to charge it through the charging port, which would be safer as it had some level of control around how much power it would accept, but he didn’t know how he was going to explain which pins to supply and take power from. USB C obviously wasn’t designed with magic charging in mind. His thoughts drifted for a moment, when he suddenly realised that he could charge his power banks instead. They used USB A, which was only four pins and a hell of a lot easier to explain, and his phone wouldn’t be at risk if something went wrong. Thankfully he had paid attention when USB ports were discussed in his tech class, but that was before USB C became-. “James, can you even hear me? You’re doing your thing again” Lafalla said, interrupting his thoughts. “Huh? Oh, sorry, I was lost in thought” he replied. “Evidently. I said you might want to eat your lunch before it gets and colder.” He looked down at his half finished soup and realised he had stopped eating when he got lost in thought. He quickly finished off the lukewarm meal, and began to think on the best way to approach the task at hand as he washed up. “Are you going to tell me what you’re thinking about?” she asked him. “Do you want to try and charge my phone after I’ve washed up? It gives us something to do, and if we can get it done, we can watch a movie if you’d like?” he suggested “Sure, why not. I can’t help but feel that you want to see that picture again though, given that you seem to be so insistent that I provide that service.” “I’ve deleted it Lafalla, and I’m only joking around when I say stuff like that, you know that.” “Oh, you were? And here I was, almost ready to drag you into bed” she said with a coy smile. “No reason you can’t.” “The washing up wouldn’t get done if I did” she replied as she trotted off to the pile of cushions. James quickly washed off the last of the dishes and set them on the drying rack. He proceeded over to his bag and began to search for his empty power bank and phone. Even if this didn’t work, he still had 3/4 of a charge left in his other power bank as he had only used a quarter of it when using his phone in the forest, but he was cautiously optimistic. He knew the port would need 5 volts at 0.5 amps direct current, but how the hell would he measure that? And how would he even explain that to Lafalla in a way she would understand? In his current situation they were kind of arbitrary units of he had nothing meaningful to compare them to. At least he knew that the power would need to go into the leftmost pin, and would be grounded on the rightmost pin of the power bank’s UBS slot. Wait, why did Lafalla have to cast the spell? He can cast spells, just with a few mana issues which he had ways to work around. All he really needed was to drink some liquid mana and cast a sustained spell with it, and he'd drank some this morning that had gone unused. He took his phone and power bank out of his bag and grabbed one of the mana vials Master Cellone had given him to build up his mana exposure and sat next to Lafalla. He didn’t plan on drinking it now if he didn’t have to, he hoped the one that he drank that morning would still be in his system, but he was prepared just in case. “So, what are we doing now then?” Lafalla asked. “I am going to try and charge my power bank with magic. I have a rough idea of what I need to do, I just hope I have enough mana to do something meaningful. Just a fair warning, this will likely take the better part of an hour to do it safely.” James looked at the power bank and began to focus. He began with the things that he knew for sure for the spell. First, the right pin would need to be grounded, then the left pin would need to be given a tiny amount of electricity. After that he would need to slowly increase the current and voltage until the power bank registered it. Thankfully, he had picked up some rugged power banks for outdoor use, that while containing a fairly small charge compared to the average power bank which had two or three times the capacity, they were quite tolerant in what they received, be it physical abuse, water damage or faulty charging equipment. It should still charge fine as it shouldn’t take more than it needs, and it wouldn’t break unless he really overdid it. This was going to be a difficult spell to cast. But it didn't have to be a single spell, and he could just break it down into two spells to cast at the same time. He started with the easiest spell, grounding the right pin. That was fairly simple; he cast a sustained spell to make a microscopic line of magical something to the floor. He didn’t know exactly what it was, but he tried to imagine that it would be able to conduct electricity fairly well, so hopefully it would, and he’d just have to try and clarify what it could be if he remembered with one of the masters. For the other spell he began to feed a tiny amount of electricity into the left pin of the port, and he immediately ran into an issue; the first spell began to waiver as he fed his mana into the second spell. He stopped dead in his tracks and silently prayed that it wasn’t about to fail on him already. He breathed a sigh of relief as the first spell slowly began to stabilise. “Is everything ok?” asked Lafalla, concerned by his sigh. “At the moment, I just need to concentrate for a bit” he replied. James let the spell stabilise some more and then slowly pushed his mana forwards, trying to split his attention between the two to make sure that the first spell stayed stable and the mana for the second was received. It felt like minutes passed before his mana made contact with the second spell, but thankfully when it did, the first spell only waivered slightly, and not giving out completely. ‘I guess my method of casting probably isn’t ideal for multiple spells then, but their gentle coaxing approach might be’ he thought to himself. He watched the display on the front of the power bank and saw that there was no reading, meaning not enough power was flowing into it to recognise it was charging, so he slowly upped the supply steadily until a light popped up on the display. It was the low power, not charging sign, which was almost perfect as he knew his setup was working. He had to continue raising the supply slowly as when he did it more quickly both spells threatened to fail, but he was rewarded with new text on the display. Charging: 1% Est. time to full charge: 43 minutes All he had to do now was hold the spells and keep an eye on his mana levels to make sure he didn’t run out for 43 minutes. “Is it working?” Lafalla asked. “It seems to be, I just need to hold it for about another 40 minutes. I do need to concentrate, but I think I can talk if you’d like.” “I have a better idea, wake me up when it’s done” she told him as she laid down on his lap. ‘But what if I get bored?’ he thought. ----------------------------- James managed to get the power bank to 83% charged before he lost concentration and lost one of the spells. Given that he didn’t have much mana left and he’d gotten that far without drinking the mana vial on top of how difficult it was to cast the spells, he decided it wasn’t worth trying to finish the charge and to go ahead with what he did have. He was surprised at just how much power he was able to provide however, he had always thought electricity was a bit more powerful, but then again, he was dealing with something fairly low power. He plugged the power bank into his phone and once the screen powered on, he gently woke Lafalla up. “Mmh? Is it done?” she asked. “It’s done” he replied. “So, what now?” “Now, we are going to watch a movie called ‘The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring - extended edition’, so you best wake up properly.” “I’m awake, I’m awake.” “Are you sure? You haven’t asked me any questions about how I controlled lightning.” “You controlled lightning? Tell me how!” “I would, but the movie is about to start, maybe if you didn’t fall asleep we would have had time.” “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have, I was just bored and tired.” “Alright, get comfortable and watch, I think you’re going to like it. Take my translation necklace, you're going to need it to understand anything being said." As the movie began to start playing, a sudden thought struck James. “Why was chocolate the first thing I duplicated? Duplicating my power banks or ammunition would have been more valuable, so why did I-’ His thoughts were interrupted as Lafalla shifted her position so she was resting her head on his chest whilst she watched. ‘Ah, that’s why.’ ----------------------------- First / Previous / Next | Wiki
A theory on why some people lack confidence [(very) long read]
(Reading time: at least 15 minutes) I speak from experience. I'm one of those people who lacks what the average person would call confidence. I never really understood why until recently I found myself unable to sleep one night (a fairly common occurrence in my life). Life is full of seemingly paradoxical bits of advice. To get to sleep in life, switch your computer or phone off a full hour before bed, in fact don't do anything. Unless of course you've been in bed for two hours and still aren't asleep. Now the advice becomes "go and do something". For better or for worse, I switched the light on and found myself reaching for my phone. YouTube, incognito, just show me something random. Somewhere on that first page was Jordan Peterson talking about predators (the human to human kind), and how most people are - despite their parent's best intentions - taught to do completely the wrong thing. It piqued my curiosity just enough to give it a watch. I already think my mum tried her best in life, but ultimately got a lot of stuff wrong, so could this be one more thing? From the quick snippet from one of his lectures, I get the impression, that yes, she probably did do the wrong - according to Peterson's hypothesis anyway. He talks about how kids are taught to be afraid of strangers - "stranger danger". If you see a stranger, be scared of them! They're evil nasty people, who are much bigger and stronger than you are. The only thing you can do is run away - but don't run. You need to look brave, so instead, calmly walk away. I can't remember exactly what I was taught by own mum (single mum at that), but it was something along these lines. The more I look into this, it seems a lot of single mothers teach their kids this despite the fact it's completely wrong. Firstly, let's take Peterson's view on this. An actual predator knows how to put a scared kid at ease - this is exactly who they want as a target. If you ran away screaming like a lunatic who'd escaped the local asylum, the predator would run in the opposite direction. That noise attracts attention that they don't want! However if you try to be brave, stay calm, quiet and don't create a ruckus, the whole incident has a better chance of going off unnoticed. For as long as no one's looking, your predator has time to soften you up, and make you believe they're friendly, and as mentioned before: they're good at this (verging on being an expert at this particular craft). Now I'll start to add my own input to this based on my own upbringing. Not only have I now been thoroughly taught to be afraid of strangers, but what exactly is a stranger? Is it a big tall six foot tall man, who hasn't seen you before and thus shouldn't be talking to you, until your mum's introduced you to him? Or is it just anyone you've never met before in your life? Even other three year olds? I don't really have many memories of myself being a three year old. I remember being taken to a play group at a local methodist church. I have memories of myself in there, but no memories of actually playing with anything or anyone if that makes sense? I must've done something while I was there, she wouldn't have taken me every week if I just stood there and did nothing. However I have no memories of playing with anyone, which I know most kids would do. Up until I watched this Peterson video, I'd always assumed that I'd tried, and that for reasons I either don't remember (or they just never gave in the first place), they didn't want me. When you're trying to analyze your life thirty years down the line, to have worked out that I was rejected for no reason whatsoever isn't particularly helpful. There's not really much I can do with that. I can't improve my own life with that, neither can I realistically prevent other people making the same mistakes I did. After all, what use is it to tell people "Above all else, make sure you never do nothing wrong" Once you've got your head around resolving the double-negative to mean "Above all else, make sure you're not perfect", the person I've just given the advice to will be left scratching their head. "Not perfect?" Peterson's video gave me a new possibility. One I'll probably never be able to prove, but a new possibility all the same. What if they didn't reject me? Even worse: Is it at all possible that other kids did try to befriend me? With me - following my stranger danger - training, walked away from this danger I'd been warned about? Worryingly, I think it actually is possible. Time machines don't exist so I'll never know, but I really can't discount this possibility. When I started nursery (in the US you call this is Pre-K - name aside, they're functionally identical), it was the same situation: I can't really describe anyone there or anything I particularly did there, but I can tell you I didn't have any friends there either. Except of course for my brother. Twin brother as it happens - and yes, and most will figure out, but amazingly some people still struggle with this, we're non-identical (we pretty much couldn't be any less identical from a physical perspective). Some people still associate twins as being the same sex, when with dizygotic twins, opposite sex is just as common as same sex. Anyway, he was the only other kid I'd play with. If ever I was missing, the staff knew to look in the "phone booths". Not real ones of course, just two booths with wooden block handsets in each. Each ear piece was hose pipe'd to the mouth of the other - It was 1989, the idea of giving kids real phones was unheard of. I wouldn't play with anyone else though. Again, I don't know if that was down to them or down to me. By the Autumn of 1991, I was now starting school. If you're in the US, you've probably already correctly linked this being Kindergarten - the only difference is that here in the UK, you start school in the same as your fifth birthday - not your sixth, we start school a year earlier here -- also completely off topic, but when I was that age, you were allowed to leave school at 16. I don't know if Tony Blair's Labour government changed that, or if it was just something they really wanted to change, but in any case, I got out of that hellish part of my life at 16 in 2003 - not a day too soon. Back to my first days. More of the same I'm afraid. I can't remember too much about the early days - where the first impressions that count would've been. Again, I've always thought that I surely must've tried to be friends with other kids, only for them to point blank refuse. Once again though, it's possible they did try and in fact it was me who snubbed them. This possibility actually wouldn't surprise me. Throughout the years as I get a little bit older, and thus better at retaining and recalling things I've been taught, I can definitely recall that we absolutely weren't allowed to play outside except for our own garden, which would've been no more than 20 foot wide and 20 foot long. Firstly we lived in a bit of a bad spot for road safety. Two A-roads: one on the front, one on the back, both with double yellow lines. If you're not from the UK, and don't know our road markings, the yellow line in the gutter means you can't park here (single lines are between the times shown, double lines indicate it's a 24/7 restriction). We've got two quarter-mile stretches of road where no one can park. It's a 30 mph limit, but we regularly saw people in the 40s and 50s, and we've even caught a 72 at one point on one of those "your speed is" electronic signs. Two little kids without much road sense playing in a tiny little area, barely 1/10 mile long and 1/10 mile wide before we're on one of these two roads. Mum saw a potential danger and protected us from it. I'm not faulting her for that, but it begs the question, why did she not take us over the road to other kids houses where we could then play in relative safety? You probably already guessed, there's a little more to it. The other kids in the area were what my mum considered the worst thing a person could ever be... "Common". She grew up in an upper-middle family. Six bed fully detached house with a garden all the way around the property, except for the front which could only be described as a parking lot. You could easily fit 20 cars in there, like how many cars did they expect to have visiting them??? She ran away from that life aged 17 because her family, whilst wealthy, wouldn't buy her anything except bare essentials, instead insisted she get a job and buy her own things. She married a builder in protest just to get one over on her rich parents. However that was a decision that would affect her own kids (us) in the long run. She wanted a nice house in a nice area, it would've cost £8,000 in 1972, instead her husband talked her into buying a cheap house in a cheap part of town four miles away for just under £5,000. This area was full of common people. I can only assume she intended to trade her way up the property ladder to somewhere else. She wanted a four bed semi, but ended up with a three bed terrace, which would in time become a two bed when the downstairs bathroom was moved upstairs, swallowing up the smallest bedroom in the process. To make matters worse for her, four months after we were born, she threw him out. He'd been caught having an affair with a woman half his age who worked at Kwik Save! The cheating would've been bad enough on its own, but with someone who works in a discount supermarket?! I can only imagine her reaction. She was now firmly stuck in an area she didn't like, didn't want to be in, couldn't afford to move away from, was full of commoners, and had two dangerous main roads, meaning we weren't allowed out. I'm sure she did what she thought was best, but ultimately, what she actually did was completely isolate us. So when we went to school not only did we have no real friends for one reason or another, but also, I seem to distinctly remember being taught that I was better than everyone else. I don't know if I was taught this as a response to having no friends, or if I was taught this first. I don't really think I've got enough information to figure it out either way. It's possible that she tried to reassure me with something along the lines of "Awww, don't get upset! Don't worry about not being friends with those kids, you're better than them anyway". What I can say with absolute certainty is that if I've got no friends, and I then proceed to walk around feeling like I'm better than everyone else, it's only going to make the problem worse. Anyway, when we were 11, she might've thought the bad years were finally over, and that we'd finally made it in life. We got accepted in a grammar school. A state operated, free to attend one (she couldn't have afforded one set of fees, let alone two at the same time). It didn't matter that it wasn't one of the prestigious, highly coveted private school ones, a grammar school was a grammar school - infinitely better than those secondary moderns (or comprehensives, or whatever it was they were called by 1998). Finally we'd be among other middle class kids! Never mind the fact we could barely afford the school dinners and we didn't even qualify for free ones because she wasn't claiming one of the correct state benefit handouts. I have a better recollection of this first day, although even it's pretty patchy... I remember being nervous as hell. I'd never had friends before, and worse, I didn't really have anything in common with any of these kids. The biggest standout for me was the most of these kids all came from well off families - they all had phones. Back at this time, phones still had monophonic ringtones, in fact, the big breakthrough of the day was that they had a screen! They had a much shorter fixed antenna that you didn't have to extend to improve the voice quality, and you could send text messages silently to each other without your teacher knowing! It didn't matter which phone you had, they all had this identically groundbreaking functionality, all that mattered was that you had one at all... Not only did I not have one, but also I didn't really have any money to join the other kids in the mall after school. Also, I'm very nearsighted, something like 20/50, and school was 7 miles away from home. I had to go home with my brother because he could read the number on the bus at long range. I couldn't, so I'd have to flag every bus down until it was a couple of feet away, and then wave it on. Bus drivers would think I was doing it on purpose and eventually just wouldn't stop for me. Or at least, this is what scared and timid little me was terrified of. What I now understand in my mid 30's, is that to have real friends, you have to be friends with people outside of school/work, and I didn't, for what I always believed were factors beyond my control. Also, a concept I'm sure is familiar across high schools all around the world. In those first few weeks everyone's sizing each other trying to determine a pecking order. The one place you don't want to be is last place. Last place is often the first to be decided. Whoever gets picked on first is probably in last place, and no one wants to let you of out of, because they then might take your place. Who's mouth do you suppose lent them the nickname rat face within the first two hours of high school? Strange concept isn't it: the one kids who never had friends before and had something visibly undesirable about them was first to be kicked down in the metaphorical sense. The idea of "just be confident" got a real kickdown here. Nervous as I was when I got through those gates and slowly waddled over to my first ever classroom, I bravely did it anyway. How pathetic would it have been if I'd hid in the toilet? To be honest, I doubt it would have been any better or worse. Rat face would still have been discovered when I was found and dragged into my classroom, and now I would've shown people that I haven't even got the confidence to face the crowd in the first place. So, having never been shown how to be confident: I came, I tried, and I failed spectacularly. The remaining five years never really saw anything improve. In fact in many ways, high school was worse than junior school. At least towards the end of junior school, the sporting side of had started to come out. I couldn't play football, but I could play most other sports reasonably well towards the end of junior school, to the point where I wasn't even the last pick any more - a world apart from my early days. It was as if I'd found my calling in life, especially in my last year of junior when during a game of rounders (which is like a British take on softball), the teacher bowled the ball to me, and called "no ball" while it was in flight. I almost never hit anything that was bowled at me, and those I did landed inches from my feet. Not this time though. There was a loud "thwack!" and it flew away. We had a rule where if you shouted the word "taken" on a no-ball, it became live. I'd never hit a ball like this before, so I took it and cleared all the bases. You could see the respect in the eyes of the other kids for having done it - guess I wasn't this loser they thought I was after all? Shame it was like June and we only had a couple of weeks left of our final year. No one else in our junior school went to this grammar school, and of course, being a grammar school, sports weren't really an emphasis here. Sports were always seen as being for stupid people. Indeed, I was in all the bottom sets, but thanks to this snobbish mind set, I was determined not to be thought of as stupid, and so the only thing I was ever any good at would take a back seat. There was no respect gaining moment to be found in subjects like English, maths and science. It sounds obvious now, but respect is usually gained from skills and abilities - something you can do that few others can. What skill do you need to read a poem or solve an equation? Especially when everyone at this skill is almost equally good at these subjects, where's the distinction? What separates you from others? If ever any type of school was like a mass production line, that produces thousands of identical clones, it's surely a state run grammar school. Private schools at least have extra curricular activities - state schools, usually not. It's got me thinking. Where does confidence ultimately derive from? If you ask me, it's personal skills and abilities, especially ones that aren't universal. You got the top grade in English? Gee whizz, go write a poem or something... You can shoot a three pointer from beyond the center court line? Oooh, watch people eyes open up nice and wide when you can do something like that. In my life I was always taught that being smart would make me the envy of the world. In reality, I think that might only be even slightly true if you've got a natural aptitude for it. For someone like me though, it's very obvious that all I was doing was pretending to be someone I'm not, and that's never admirable. But right from the first real memories I ever had, this is all I can ever remember. "You're really clever", "you're better than them", "you're going to be rich one day", "you're going to be their boss one day". It's not that healthy competition is a bad thing. From the sports I played when I was younger - you win some, you lose some, but you still sake the other teams hands. All I've ever seen from my own mum though is the idea that if we win, we cheer - and if we lose, we sneer. I don't behave like that now, and haven't done for as long as I can remember, but it eats away at me, recently discovering the possibility that in the crucial formative years that I can't remember, I could've been robotically following her training. So how do I be confident now? It's something I've made leaps and bounds of progress over the last ten years, but it's still far from complete. There's more to it than just "don't be scared". I imagine this like a switch on a hairdryer with three positions, but with a difference. Instead of it being 0,1,2 it's actually 1,0,2. In that middle state it's off, switch it left and it's cold, switch it right and it's hot. In this analogy, left is scared, middle is off, right is brave. As you see, there's no confidence on that switch, but the idea of "don't be scared" could leave some people to leaving the switch in the middle. In reality, it's got to go to the right, but that's only part of the puzzle. There are other switches, and only the correct combination across all the switches will result in confidence. Bravery is just one component. Another is following your own heart, and not doing what I did in my early years, which was try to impress my mum. I couldn't be who she wanted me to be, and so she was only ever going to be let down by that. When I was growing up, I felt like I owed it to her, but in reality, I owe her nothing. The fact that I can't be who she desperately wanted me to be is her problem, not mine. I used to feel guilty about this, when I was a kid, but not any more. To anyone who's still trying to live up to their parents' expectations like I was. All I can say is: statistically, it's unlikely to happen. Perhaps it'd be better to let them down gently earlier on and focus on yourself now? Otherwise you'll lose years of your life, until things eventually come crashing down on you, and it'll force you into a corner. Now you won't be able to (in a manner of speaking) "come out on your own terms", you'll have to react in the heat of the moment, explaining why you've (in their eyes) "failed", and to make matters worse, there'll be no sign of any significant progress elsewhere in your life to explain it away. To wrap up a fairly long exploration of the early years of my life, looking into where my lack of confidence might've come from, I do think Jordan Peterson might be have a point, and I'd like to see more research on it. Teaching kids to be afraid of strangers might have the unintentional side effect of making them scared of everyone. Made worse by the fact predators know how to overcome scared kids anyway. Literally nothing good comes from it. It's certainly a possibility from what I can piece together of my own life. It probably isn't the only cause, but I think in my case, when that was coupled with a mum who thought she was better than anyone else. Who sneered at everyone else on her way up, and continued sneering at everyone else on her way back down. I think the two could have formed a disastrous cocktail. I do wonder how many other FA's have similar backgrounds. Overprotective parents (usually mothers) who inadvertently taught them to be scared of everyone in their attempt to keep us away from dangerous people? I got back into fitness a few years ago based on my own love of it as a child, and whilst it's not been a magic bullet, things have improved massively. I'd put it down to the fact that I'm taking charge of my own life rather than accepting what my mum dictates to me. I've felt felt my confidence grow, and whilst that hasn't yet translated into anything, and I've still got my rat face, that doesn't mean the confidence isn't there. All I can do is continue to water that flower, of which my own personal interest (fitness) was the seeds. To close, a quote from my own text that I think you might like:
All I was doing was pretending to be someone I'm not, and that's never admirable.
Perhaps you'll also like
to have real friends, you have to be friends with people outside of school/work, and I didn't, for what I always believed were factors beyond my control.
We're back again for 2020! Thank you to everyone who contributed last year, it was a lot of fun! Posting this a little earlier this year so people can plan ahead.
If you have something new to share, please check to see if it's already on the list, then submit it using the survey and it'll go in the spreadsheet for everyone to see. Brand owners are welcome to submit their own info!
If you have an update for something already on the list, please comment below and tag me (u/theyellingcat) and I'll update it on the sheet/list.
New this year, by request: filters! Now you can browse just makeup, perfume, nail polish or "and more"! You can switch between filters on Google Sheets under Data>Filter Views, or find them linked below for your convenience.
Text list is included below for easy skimming. I plan to update that at least once per day through 11/21, and then more frequently 11/22-11/28 (week of US Thanksgiving). The spreadsheet is directly populated by the survey and will always be most up-to-date!
Last year's post can be found here if you'd like to get an idea of past sales/releases.
Finally, as much as this is an exciting time for indies I realize this can be a financially (and generally) stressful time of year, especially this year. My hope is that this list will help people make informed, planned purchasing decisions, but if you'd prefer not to see this post at all, you can hide it using the option in menu below the post on desktop or in the menu to the right on mobile.
Winter Collection release 11/30 1pm EST. Holiday three pack gift bags for $25 containing 3 "gourmandy" scents. All December orders over $50 receive free GWP Winter Solstice Alchemy 2020, all December orders over $35 receive free GWP Yuletide Blessing if you let them know you are a member of a forum (such as IMAM!) in the notes at checkout.
New Winter collection out now, plus rerelease of past scents. FREE SHIPPING: Shipping is FREE for all domestic orders now through December 5. As always, international orders of $40 or more will ship for only $8. FREE LAYERING NOTE: Now through December 1, you can get a free Layering Note when you spend $60 or more. (And the Layering Notes have been restocked!) No code is needed, but you will need to place your free LN(s) in your cart.
Wintertime collection now available. GWP: Purchases of $25 will receive a 1.8ml vial of the Black Friday Cyber Monday blend of the customer’s choice. Purchases of $50 will receive a 1.8ml vial of the BFCM blend of the customer’s choice and one vial of my choice. For every $75 spent, the customer will receive one full bottle of the BFCM blend of choice. Details of GWP on sheet.
30% off excluding AEngland new releases, pre-orders, prior purchases and no combined shipping. Use code BFCM20
Black Baccara 11/27 at 8pm EST - 11/30 at 11:00pm EST
Save 20% off everything on the website, including jewelry, with code SNOW20 excluding purchases of gift cards. GWP tiers @$100 and $200, see sheet for details.
Black Friday all month long, 15% off entire site with coupon code BLKheartedFRI. Can't be combined with any other offer. UPDATE: Buy three 10 mls and get one free! (Includes any combo of perfume oil rollers, layering notes, and EDPs)
15% off all orders over $25 with code SHOPSMALL15, 25% off all orders over $100 with code SHOPSMALL25 Orders that are still over $100 after discounts will also receive free domestic shipping (and $10 flat rate to Canada.) AND, every single order placed will receive a free sample of one of our loose leaf tea blends. New product releases, details on sheet.
Save 15% on orders of $25+ with code GRAVY15, Save 20% on orders of $75+ with code: CRANBERRIES20, Save 25% on orders of $125+ with code: TOFURKY25, Save 30% on orders of $200+ with code: CASSEROLE30
15% off everything except sample vials (limit 3 sets per person)
Color 4 Nails Now - 2nd December 2020 (no timezone listed)
25% off almost everything excluding KBShimmer (15%) and final sale with code BLFR2020
Color Spectrum 11/27 @ 12pm (possibly am/midnight?)EST - 11:59pm EST 11/30
25% OFF shop wide (excluding new releases), 3 for $10 Mystery Bags, FREE US SHIPPING with all orders over $35 (after discounts). FREE MINI polish with every order, no minimum, FREE EXCLUSIVE BLACK FRIDAY FREEBIE POLISH with every order over $45, while supplies last
20% off and Exclusive GWP for orders $20 and up. UPDATE: GWP is Capitalist Figs: Black figs, blackened honey wine, and swirling black sugar on a bed of black patch
$25 - 10% off, $50 - 15% off, $75 - 20% + samples of The Nice List & The Naughty List, $100+ - 25% off + 5ml bottles of The Nice List and The Naughty List. BF exclusive scents + Winter Releases. More details on sheet and here
Free shipping on all orders over $20, with different daily deals. Friday: For every $10 you spend, receive $5 worth of free mystery items. Saturday: For every $20 you spend, receive $5 of store credit to use on a future order! Sunday: GWP @ $50 and $100. Monday: For every $25 you spend, get 1 month free in our exclusive Nail Polish of the Month Club! More details on spreadhsheet
Free gifts with purchase, must add to cart and then use code to get it for free. Does not stack with any other promos, including Nov. promo. GWP @$40, $65, $115, $160, $200, all details on sheet! UPDATE: EDP + rollerball gift sets available through 11/30
Use code BF2020 for 20% off storewide. 20 random orders receive a free gift valued up to $20. First 20 orders over $20 receive free Black Friday exclusive polish ($20 must be order total before tax/shipping). Other restocks/releases on sheet
25% off site wide, orders over $70 get a hair bow, orders over $180 get a face towel, small suitcase, and original version of Mars Melter. 40% off lips, 40% off Cyber Bronze palette.
35% off from 10:00 AM to 12:00 PM CST, 25% off from 12:01 PM to 4:00 PM CST, 15% off from 4:01 PM to 8:00 PM, 5% off from 8:01 PM to 11:59 PM CST. No coupon code required
New Winter collection of 36 flavors releasing 11/27 (they appear to be available now, the full collection set will be available in limited numbers Nov 27- Dec 1 (or until it sells out)
30% off with code LOVELOVE30 through 11/26. UPDATE: looks like the code has a minimum purchase of around $25, unsure of exact amount. New release out now: Kinfolk collection. 40% off $60 purchase with code WEKIN40. Free shipping over $90 (before discount, so $54 after discount). Adding new products/restocking throughout sale. Givaway: 1 winner per day from those who sign up for the newsletter during the sale. More details on sheet and here
20% off all LVNEA products with coupon code ‘firbalsam’ at checkout. Excludes boutique items by other brands or makers. Free 2 oz pouch of Rose & Bois coconut milk bath soak with any purchase over $100.
Half off most everything with the code THANKS. New 6 piece Victorian Christmas collection just 30 dollars with the THANKS code. Various GWP and mystery bags, see sheet for details.
Discounts up to 25% off: code 202015OFF - 15% off any amount, 202020OFF - 20% off orders of $20+, 202025OFF - 25% off orders of $40+. Orders of $60+(after discounts & before shipping) get free domestic or discounted international shipping. Doorbuster, restock, new releases, details on sheet
25% with code NMBF25, excludes Haunted AF palette + coupon set. All orders placed during sale receive GWP. No coupon stacking except rewards, various daily specials to be announced. Please see full BF exclusives/release details on the spreadsheet, hover over the cell to view!
Nui Cobalt 11/26-11/30, new release @11/27 at 11:11 am Pacific
10% off any order with code BlackFriday10, 15% off orders $75+ with code Black Friday15, 20% off orders of $125+ with code BlackFriday20, 25% off any order $200+ with code BlackFriday25 Yuletide collection release 11/27, details of scents to be announced in newsletter
Oden's Eye November 27th at 0:00 European Time to November 29th at 24:00
40% off all products, free shipping over €50, some countries and regions excepted
New Studio Ghibli collection + various other items on sale. GWP @ $50 and $100, details on sheet. Free US shipping at $50, Canada at $80, all other international at $120.
$6 door buster polish, 10-30% off throughout site with no code needed, free nail buffer with any order while supplies last, free polish with $50 order while supplies last, 10% off new releases through 11/27 12 PM EST.
Up to 60% off makeup combos. 40% off mini sets of makeup brushes. 20% off site wide on top. Orders over $150 receive free full-size Medium Shimmer. No code necessary
Code HOLIDAY10 for 10% off all orders; Code HOLIDAY15 for 15% off orders over $75; Code HOLIDAY20 for 20% off orders over $150. Discount applies to regular priced merchandise only. Free random fandom jewelry bag with every purchase over $30 while supplies last. (Value $20-40)
15% off with code BLACKFRIDAY2020 from Black Friday through Cyber Monday. Additional products will also be available starting on BF, see sheet for details.
All orders save 10% with code MISTLETOE, Spend $60 and save 20% with code YULETIDE, Spend $125 and save 30% with code SNOWFALL Orders $50 & up (after discounts & before shipping) receive a FREE exclusive Black Friday 6ml fragrance Turtle Doves. NEW COLLECTION RELEASES: Holiday 2020 Collection, Black Friday Exclusive Trio, Holiday Layering Sets, Holiday Bath/Body More details on spreadsheet
Winter Collection Release begins 11/27 10pm EST and runs until November 30th at 10pm EST. 10% off all orders with code GIFT10, 20% of orders $50+ with code GIFT20, 30% off orders $100+ with code GIFT30, excludes Krampus gift set + gift cards.
Freebies (all calculated in CAD, and all stack) every $25 ($@ $25, $50, $75, etc), all details on sheet. Possibly must be added to cart? Cabinet of Curiosity (discontinued scents) available during sale: 7.5mls high-concentration only, 30% off of usual unlisted scent prices. List of some on sheet, will try and update if more are released. Collections being discontinued (though still available as "unlisted scents"): DECLASSIFIED, The Secret of Time and Heaven, Halloween: In the Darkness. These will be leaving the site @ 12pm EST on Saturday 11/28
20% off, discount is automatic so you can layer it (much like our scrubs) with discount codes from your Candy Coins balance or your Candy Cluster sub. Double Candy Coins on Cyber Monday.
20% Off (almost) site wide, $3 mystery protos, $5 overpours, $6 mystery bags, 5 new fragrances in hair oil, milk bath, mango body butter, sugar scrub, new collection (excluded from 20% off sale) and more.
All 15ml base and topcoats are $0.05 with code GOBBLEGOBBLEDOO (limit 3 per item, per customer). Mystery grab bags of 3 for $10 (limited quantities; sorted by color group). 50% off discontinued and last chance items (no code needed). Free shipping on orders $50+
Free gift with purchase (1 currently unreleased holiday sticker on all orders under $25 CAD, pack of 3 unreleased stickers on orders over $25 CAD, free pin of your choice (or random if not chosen) + sticker pack orders over $50 CAD. Before shipping)
BOGO on all regular shadows, highlighters, and loose pigments (buy any single qualifying product and get the second product of equal of lesser value for free) with code discounted from BOGOTM50. Various discounts on other products, see sheet for details.
Starting Thursday, use coupon code BLFR2020 and save 20% on all orders.Winter collection just arrived based on The Dark Side of the Rainbow and Company of Wolves
Untitled_Co 11/27 12 AM - 11/30 midnight (no timezones given)
20% off all orders. This Friday (11/27), keep an eye on instagram for our last sample sale of the year! Free shipping with code YOULUCKYDOG, or local pickup with code LOCALPHILLY
Sales TBA across social media channels. Two new general catalogue collections, two limited seasonal collections, and a limited birthday collection, 12-day Advent Calendar release. More info on sheet. New options for ordering perfumes, including 5ml bottles and Create Your Own Full-Size Sets at a discount. UPDATE: Tiered discounts, 15/20/25/30% off, see sheet for details. GWP every $30 spent, unsure if they stack or not.
Use code BF2020 for 15% off at wertherandgray.com. Etsy shop is also marked down 15%. Both shops are now offering free shipping on orders over $75, no code required.
25% off storewide through December 1. Discount automatically applied at checkout, no coupon code needed. Free US shipping on Etsy @$35, however not all products are available on Etsy
15% off all orders with code MERRY, 25% off orders over $60.00 with code MERRIER. Free domestic shipping on orders over $35.00. Limited number of discounted, pre-made mystery scent shot samplers available (3 per set for $8.00). GWP tiers @ $25, $50, see sheet for details!
I filed for divorce against my emotionally abusive husband. Now he's trying to take everything from me.
I know that nobody is going to read this because it's pretty much a novel. My nightmare of a life for the past 5 years. TLDR; I moved my mentally ill husband to the United States and took care of him for nearly 5 years, paying over 20k for him to get a degree and to pay off his personal debts. When I filed for divorce, he fled from the house, drained half the bank account, stole my dog, and stole a bunch of stuff from the house. Now he wants anything he can get his hands on, including trying to force me to sell my premarital home, sell my grandparents house, and give him anything he feels entitled to. For backstory: ___ In 2016, I had a long distance friend from the UK who had a suicide attempt so we agreed he could come live with me in the US and go to school here to start over. I was worried that if he didn't make a big life change, I would lose him from my life forever. He told me he was in love with me and I had always had a crush on him, so I thought it was a dream come true. This is the start of my nightmare. He came over here with one suitcase and one backpack that mostly had clothes, his laptop, his phone, a Scrabble board, and that was it. Within a month of him being over here, we were "officially" together (using the bf/gf labels although we were already acting that way and living together), and I think I really only wanted to be with him to fulfill that old crush I had. Because international student loan rates were extremely high, I ended up paying for his schooling out of my own pocket as I would have had to help him pay the loans anyways. I also paid for all of his flights, Visa requirements, international health insurance, etc. I set up a prepaid card so he had money he could use if he needed. I had to liquidate one of my 401ks and take out home improvement loans from my equity to be able to afford him. In total, I spent over 20K just on those things, not including any sort of household expenses or anything like that. After he came over here, I found out that he had a lot of debt back home. He was overdrafted about $3,000 to his old bank back home and they were going to start taking the money from his parents, so I loaned him that money too. He also had an unpaid laptop and an unpaid cell phone so I was sending additional money back to his mother every month. He also had over $30,000 in old student loans (the amount of this loan debt gradually kept growing each time he told me) but thankfully I didn't have to pay anything on those. I also found out that his mental health issues were a lot worse than I could have ever imagined. This was also the beginning of me discovering his severe jealousy problems. I had previously been in a 5-year toxic relationship with a very abusive alcoholic and thought that he seemed much better in comparison. While dating him, I realized this wasn't what I wanted, but he would guilt me and tell me that he had left his job (which he hated) and everything back in the UK to be here with me. I felt like I had to stay and I had made my own bed by bringing him over here. I also quickly found out that he was nothing like the person he made himself out to be. I am a very adventurous person who loves being outdoors, and he wanted nothing to do with that. He only ever wanted to sit around and play video games until late in the morning. If he got upset, he would isolate himself from me for days or even several weeks at a time. He never once helped around the house, claiming "it didn't feel like his house because his name wasn't on it." I did everything I could to try and make it feel like his house too, but it never helped. He would always say that he didn't understand why money was so important to me and claimed that I only had my house because I got lucky. In 2017, my neighbor gave me a young dog. She immediately became best friends with my current dog. In my past, having a dog was what gave me a sense of responsibility so I thought that if he felt like she was his dog, he would step up and act more like an adult. I had previously gotten him a fish tank for the same purpose but he just neglected it. He didn't take care of the dog either and so I had to step up and take care of her too. The two dogs became best friends and sisters. He couldn't drive so I taught him how to drive and gave him his first car so that I wouldn't have to keep driving him to school everyday. He was so anxious and paranoid that I couldn't go anywhere without him and he couldn't go anywhere without me. Over time, he began to isolate me from my friends, and then my family. I've always been a confident person, but he always found a way to tear me down. He would call me narcissistic for being confident in myself and immature. He would claim that he couldn't trust me and that I was losing my trust from him by doing things he didn't agree with. He began telling me that I was actually the one with undiagnosed mental health issues. I was questioning my memory a lot during this time because I was having a hard time remembering things. It seemed like he always remembered them differently. In 2018, I became power of attorney for my grandparents and had to put them through a bankruptcy. They lost their house and their car. I was able to pull together enough equity to be able to buy them a house (mortgaged) and they would pay me "rent" to help pay it back. They lived 5 minutes down the road from us and would always help me out with yard work and mowing the grass since I didn't have time in addition to everything else I did and he never helped. We got married a day after I signed on their house and I met his family for the first time when they came over here for the wedding. His mother has severe depression and his father has severe anger issues. He has a brother in his late thirties (not at the wedding) who locks himself away and never comes out into the public, even to see his family. On our wedding night, I was googling annulments in the hotel room while he was passed out drunk in the car. 4 months into marriage, I made a post on Reddit for advice feeling as if I had made a mistake in getting married. I had deleted this post entirely, but he later claimed he logged into my account and found it. It felt like my entire life's purpose and all of my time became dedicated to trying to maintain his happiness, and the household. I had no time left for myself. Even after he got his car, I was the one who would drive us everywhere. He had me install an app on my phone that would allow him to track me via GPS. He began secretly recording conversations that we would have or even conversations with my grandparents on his phone. He would continue to express how he hated my house, and he wanted a more modern house. Although I have always loved my house, we began making plans and preparing to sell this house to build him his dream house. I thought it might be the only way I could get him to start helping. In 2019, he graduated with his associates degree. We applied for his conditional greencard and work authorization. I agreed to make him joint on my bank account to help him during the USCIS interview. I made him a resume and helped him find a job. He began to reveal some things about his past, like how his original intention was to come over here and sleep with as many American girls as he can because they would just fall for his accent, but then he changed his mind for me. He also revealed that the real reason he had been dropped from our online friend group was because he was exchanging nudes with a minor. We went back to his country for his sister's wedding. On one drunken night where he was being extremely suspicious with his phone, I discovered that he had messaged a previous ex-girlfriend. She shut him down. I never had a reason to distrust him before that point, but he deleted the messages the next morning, thinking I wouldn't have seen them. When I initially told him about it, he took full blame and was very apologetic. Later, he changed the script and said that I was the one who did him wrong and broke his trust because I went through his phone. It was the first time I had ever done that. He said that since I had always maintained a friendship with some of my previous exes, why couldn't he?, although the intent seemed different. Divorce came up for the first time from me. I told him then that I wouldn't let him separate the dogs. He insisted that I would not take her from him. I wanted to leave but I thought that him having a job and financially contributing might change our lives. I wanted to know what things would be like if we had dual income and no money problems. We bought a piece of land for his dream house, and began making preparations to sell my house. I didn't want to and I didn't think it would actually happen, but I felt like If I didn't agree to what he wanted, it would just end up bad for me. In 2020, we went to marriage counseling but she turned into a weapon that he could use against me. He said that she only focused on him and that she was too scared to tell me about my anger issues. After she recommended divorce, He made an ultimatum and said that he couldn't go on with this relationship unless I cut anyone who was previously an ex or anyone whoever had an attraction to me out of my life and never talked to them again. He said he had to go through every single message, email, note, picture, etc. in my phone, including messages from before we were together because he didn't trust anything I said or what I had told him about my past. He also told me that I was no longer allowed to "bad mouth him" (venting or expressing my feelings about things he would do) to anyone. I was so desperate to save our marriage that I agreed and let him do this. It didn't help anything, and I felt more isolated than ever. His paranoia seem to get worse and I would be constantly accused of cheating on him. One night, he called my grandmother and accused her of trying to log into his email from her phone. Everything came to a head when I expressed to my grandparents that he had been staying up late a lot lately and having difficulty getting up in the morning for work. My grandpa asked him in casual conversation if he had still been staying up late, and he later approached me to scold me for "bad mouthing him." I didn't back down that time, and so he began to isolate me like he usually would. Because he was still angry from that fight, he refused to go on a trip to my parents house so I took the dogs with me (as they had always come with us before) and went with my grandparents to my parents house. That very night, they had an intervention for me where they brought to light that this wasn't how a relationship was supposed to be. I called an attorney the day I came home. I stopped serving him hand over foot. One day, after staying up late, he didn't get up for work in time and he got really mad at me for not waking him up even though I work the same hours he does. He knew at this point that I was deciding on whether or not I wanted to get divorced, and his only response was "I hope you make up your mind soon." I began seeing a counselor. Previously, I had told the marriage counselor that I was afraid to see a counselor on my own because I thought the counselor would tell me to divorce him. That's exactly what the counselor did. He cleared up so much of the gas lighting and clarified so much about who I was and who he had made me think I was. After two sessions and weird behavior from him (where he was locking his laptop in his car at night and sleeping with his keys), I was ready. On my way to the courthouse, he called me and I let it go to voicemail. I texted him to see what he needed because I knew if I answered, I would lose my nerve. He demanded to know why I didn't ask him if he wanted anything on the grocery order. Current situation: ___ I filed for divorce. I thought that maybe he would agree to mediation, so I self-filed and laid out my terms: In total, he had financially contributed for 10 months out of the entire relationship. He put 30k into the bank account while I put in 230k. I asked for:
My premarital home and for him to move out in a timely manner.
My grandparents house (also premarital).
70% of the current funds in the bank account.
100% of the funds I put into my Acorns account (my personal account but he knew the password).
All the furniture, tools, and house stuff that wasn't obviously his because my house was fully furnished when he came over here (even offering to give him things like the computer desk and monitor I had before he moved in but he used regularly).
Both the dogs to stay together with me.
Him to pay off the remaining balance of his cell phone that I had been paying for.
Him to refinance his car into his own name and get his own car insurance.
The land we bought to be either resold and the equity split between us or that if he could secure financing, he could just buy out the rest of the loan.
I thought this was all very reasonable. I even put down to have him served by the sheriff at our home because I didn't want to embarrass him at work. After I filed, I went to pick up the groceries. When I got home, I was greeted with the door left wide open, all the lights on, his car gone, the dog he wanted (and all of her possessions) gone, everything from his computer desk gone, all of his clothes emptied from the closet, two of my personal suitcases missing (he didn't take the one he came over here with, but opted for the newer ones). He was gone and he took everything he wanted and could grab quickly with him. I called the sheriff, but because he hadn't been served yet, there was nothing I could do to get her back until court. That same night, I realized that he had seen the charge from the courthouse come through on the bank account. He transferred 50% of the bank account (over 6k) into his personal account, leaving all the bills attached to the main account. The next morning, his paycheck came in and he took the entire thing out. It became obvious to me at that point that he had no intention of paying any bills on that account. I connected with an amazing attorney. She had me move what was left of the account to a new account without his name on it. Fortunately, with my bank, this move to all the loans to the new account too so I wouldn't have to worry about anything overdrafting or being late. A lot of moves were made that next day, and I connected with the sheriff who tried to serve him at the home to give him his work address (the only place I knew he would be), so he was served at work. His attorney emailed me to inform me that they had filed for divorce a day after I did, but they would be canceling it since I filed first and served him first. I guess he knew I was going to file and was trying to jump ahead of me. In their reply, he asked for:
My premarital home to be sold (specifically saying it must be sold) and 50% of any equity made after the sale go to him.
My grandparents house to be sold and 50% of any equity made after the sale to go to him.
The land to be sold and 50% of any equity made to go to him.
50% of the funds in the bank account (which he already took plus his additional paycheck).
50% of any furniture in the house (that he wants), including any tools or yard equipment he wants.
Access to the home to take whatever he wants.
His car and his phone (already in his possession) but without paying me back on the loan or giving me any equity, of course.
The dog he already stole (he doesn't want the other dog).
Anything he "built or assembled with his hands", meaning any sort of furniture or equipment that he assembled or helped assemble (even though I paid for it).
Punitive damages against me for transferring what was left of the bank account to a new account so he couldn't take any more.
Punitive damages against me for changing the password on my Acorns investment account.
Punitive damages against me for having him served at work instead of at the home he fled.
Me to pay all of his attorneys fees and anything related to court or moving expenses.
My attorney assures me that he can't get anything that was premarital. We are going to fight this. I'm doing everything in my power to get my dog back. My other dog is super depressed and stressed. She didn't eat for 4 days and I had to switch her to soft canned food. I also called the vet to see if I could get her put on anti-anxiety medication and found out that he had made an appointment for the other dog because she was self-harming by rubbing her nose to the point of bleeding. Both of the dogs are now on the same anti-anxiety medication. I really was trying to be fair to him and file in a way that wouldn't require expensive litigation for either of us so he'd have extra money when he was out on his own, but here we are. I feel so much relief that he has self evicted, but I wish she hadn't taken her. He's specifically requesting that my premarital house be sold because I was homeless when I was 18, and bought my first house at 19 (really cheap) to make sure I would never be homeless again. This is my second house now, and he wants to scare me into thinking that I will be homeless again. He wants me to think that he will make my grandparents homeless too. If you really read this whole thing, kudos to you. Welcome to my nightmare. Better days are on the horizon.
From the ages of thirteen to seventeen, my one drive in life was the acquisition of a girlfriend. As a chubby, self-hating student at an all-boy school, opportunities to improve my self-esteem were few and far between. Becoming academically exalted was too much work, and I was never going to debase myself by attempting to join the rugby team, so there was only one option. I needed to find a girlfriend. Before I continue, I want to point out that the person I was then is not who I am now. I’m studying business at Cardiff University and in my second year of a stable, loving relationship with a course-mate. Of course, it’s impossible to judge myself accurately and it may be that my housemates and lecturers see me as an obnoxious twat, but I like to think that I’m relatively mature and well-adjusted. I like to think that I’ve learned from the mistakes of my youth. During those four years at school I was a vacuum, shallowly feigning every interest necessary to pique the interest of the few girls I ever got the chance to speak to. When I started messaging Fiona Pollock, with her tall quietness and ever-changing hair colour, I learned that she loved horror. So it was that I spent weekend after weekend streaming Dario Argento and Wes Craven films, trying to find the chance to invite myself over and introduce her to La Chiesa or Shocker or some other horseshit. When I met Georgia Weaver at auditions for a youth orchestra, I listened to every Haydn symphony over the course of a month, boring myself to tears just because I’d heard her play a few dozen bars of his second cello concerto while warming up. Most debasing of all, though, when I met Sally Bender, I watched four seasons of Supernatural in three weeks. When I asked her out and she laughed in my face, it was such a blow to my confidence that I considered pivoting towards academic success. A month later, though, I came up with a plan that I was convinced would work. It was at the school’s carol service, surrounded by Christmas cheer in the high, stony vault of the local parish church that I had my epiphany. In a flash of divine inspiration, I decided to date a Christian girl. It would hardly make me a player, and there’d be limits to how much social currency it would afford me. I wouldn’t be able to brag over canteen French bread pizza about the absurd positions me and my Jesus-freak studied after Sunday School, and the mockery from friends would at least equal the ego-boost I’d get from every date. Still, looking at the gangly, sombre youths who timidly poured out mulled wine after the service, at the very least I knew I’d be among social equals. Besides, there was always a chance that it would all turn out to be true and I would avoid the Lake of Fire when I croaked. When, after Christmas, I announced to my family my intention to take confirmation at the Anglican church in town, my parents responded with quiet, slightly baffled happiness. They’d raised me in the Methodist faith and, while I don’t think either of them held strong religious views, they respected God enough to scowl when, just six months earlier, I’d declared myself an atheist as all edgy teenagers must. That Sunday, just shy of my sixteenth birthday, I attended my first church service in the better part of ten years and, the Wednesday evening after that, my first Youth Group session. A year later and I hadn’t yet made my move. I’m not the victim here but looking back I wasn’t doing well. I was a spotty brat who ran a mile in 16 minutes and was always described as “underperforming” by every teacher who ever met my parents. I could see two ways out of my anxiety at the time, and the most appealing was sealing the deal with my target; Prudence Stearne. Prue was a plain girl. A little taller than most, but with a body that had otherwise stopped developing by thirteen, I’d selected her the first time I attended Youth Group – though it took another two weeks before she met my gaze. Over the following months I got to know her and learned that behind the wide staring eyes there was a sweet, kindly heart and, below hair so mousy it bordered on grey there was brain filled with a gentle wit, a love of baking and, of course, an encyclopaedic knowledge of the Good Book. It was a surprise when, a year after I’d decided to prey on the godly, Prue invited me to her house for dinner. I knew there was no real romantic intention behind it, but I was so starved of female attention that I decided to treat it as a practice run for when she inevitably fell for my charms. On the last day of school, I wandered down into town, changed into a new Primark shirt in the public toilets behind the market building, got a cheap haircut, and picked up a bottle of Shloer from Aldi. All prepared to make her fall in love with me, I marched across town and knocked on Prudence Stearne’s door. I was blown away the moment the door opened. The Stearne family did not do Christmas by halves. Her parents, dressed in matching but opposite-coloured Christmas jumpers welcomed me into their home and lead me to the dining room – a route that passed by no fewer than six Christmas trees, each with coordinated decoration, at least two of which were real. The entire ceiling above the dining table was covered by a silver-coloured plastic net, from which hung more than a hundred novelty baubles of all shapes and sizes, and if there was a surface in that house that wasn’t covered in snow-globes and nutcrackers, I didn’t see it. Even the dining room table, set for five people, was littered with twice as many neatly arranged candles in kitschy elf-head holders, surrounding a gargantuan motorised snow-globe that contained a plastic Frosty pinching Rudolph on the shiny red nose- illuminated, of course. Mrs Stearne made some fussing apology about the mess and I replied with some joke too weak to remember, which was met with gales of good-natured fake laughter from the parents. Prudence, sitting at the table in a modest green skirt with her hair in braids, wore a small smile and a faint blush. In the light of the candle, she actually looked quite pretty. I went to sit down next to her, but with a well-placed glare she indicated that I should sit opposite. I faltered a little as I pulled the chair out but reasoned to myself that maybe her parents were a little puritanical in this regard. I felt good as Mr Stearne made a big show of pouring out a glass of my Shloer for everyone, right up until the moment he poured out the fifth glass. There was a shout of “Theo, dinner’s ready!” from the stairwell, and as I heard the thud of quick footsteps above, I felt the colour drain from my face. I disliked Prue’s little brother from the start. He was at an even more awkward age than I was, and the brattishness inherent to most thirteen-year-olds combined with his aggressive eczema, milk-bottle glasses, and unwashed black hair to make him a perpetual outsider. His appearance was matched by an equally disagreeable personality. Theodore had frail health, but when he did manage to drag himself out of bed to Youth Group, he made sure everyone knew how much of an effort it was, all the while complaining in that irritating drone of his while absolutely refusing to be cooperative. His worst attribute, though, was how sneaky he was – or rather, how sneaky he thought he was, and the hissy fit he would throw when whatever bullshit scheme he was running was exposed. He didn’t believe in doing anything kind without getting something back in return, so his presence at dinner made me certain that something was up. The pitch came after dessert. I was still half-heartedly putting on a face for Prudence, so I offered to help wash up, but Mrs Stearne whisked away my bowl and suggested that I hang out in the den with Theo and Prudence. Even now, I remember that that was the order she put it in, making it clear that I was there for Theo’s entertainment. As I wandered into the dimly lit room and collapsed on a beanbag covered in a festive Disney blanket, I could feel the trap snapping shut on my leg. Theodore’s pitch was Soul Benefactor. The name was familiar – fliers smattered with photos of cheery-faced white teenagers hugging African children littered the church hall, and a few of the leaders at Youth Group had gone on trips to Kenya and Tanzania themselves. The company organised missionary work, with trips part-funded by whatever shadowy evangelical group and part-funded by the honest determination and fundraising of the kids themselves. I’d never really given them much thought, since the school had its own programmes for sending kids off to do charity work and I wasn’t exactly the sort to go adventuring. If I’m honest, the idea of sending people off to evangelise in poor African nations was a bit 19th century to me. The second part of the pitch intrigued me, though: Papua New Guinea. It was, undeniably, a great deal. Even as a shitty sixteen-year-old, I understood that opportunities to fly to the other side of the world for less than a grand didn’t present themselves often. Prudence leaned in close, cutting off Theo as he harped on about the mountains and wildlife, and got to the point – the Papua trip was new, and Soul Benefactor needed a group for a trial run. Prudence and Theo had already found three willing volunteers through Christian message-boards, but they needed the sixth to be signed on before the New Year. Under the pleading pressure of those wide, soft eyes I agreed. I wasn’t thinking of the tortures of hiking in the jungle with Theo, I wasn’t thinking of the hard work needed to raise the money, and I certainly wasn’t thinking of the quasi-colonialist nature of 21st Century missionary work; I was thinking of that little smile Prudence wore just before dinner. The next six months were hard work, and climbing through the cloud forests with an asthmatic, blister-footed thirteen-year-old was just as torturous as it sounds. Honestly, Theo should’ve never been allowed to come. Soul Benefactor usually required participants to be at least sixteen and undergo a physical before flying out with them, but some of the higher-ups in the UK chapter were friends with Mr and Mrs Stearne, and I understood that a sizeable donation had bypassed these concerns. After three day’s climb from the town of Mount Hagen, the eight of us – six children, a SB Rep, and a local interpreter – arrived at the site of our project. The town was too small to have a name on the map, but as we gazed down from the treeline towards the two-dozen palm-thatched huts, a name came unbidden to Prue’s mind: New Hebron. The hard work of those two weeks made the fundraising look leisurely. We were labourers, helping to construct a block of brick-walled chemical toilets, a small schoolhouse, and, of course, a chapel, all half-completed by a previous group of missionaries. That fortnight was one of the best times of my life. The villagers were fantastically warm and generous, and the work was fulfilling. It’s just a shame that Theo was there. I think at the time I underestimated him. In the weeks leading up to the Papua trip I spent a lot of time at the Stearnes’ house with Prue. We would meet for coffee to discuss the details of who was carpooling with who to the airport, we’d share lunch and decide seating arrangements on the flight, prepare a bake sale together to raise a final bit of spending money. The little brat made sure I wasn’t allowed any alone time with Prue in New Hebron. Those two weeks, every time we had a moment to speak Theo would burst out of the undergrowth complaining of some new tropical ailment in a whine more irritating than any mosquito, malarial or not. When Prudence and I were assigned jobs together, Theo would insist on helping, wanting to set a ‘good hard-working Protestant example’ for the villagers. Worst of all, though, was the sleeping arrangements. While everyone else had their privacy, Theo insisted that his asthma made it too risky for him to spend even a minute unsupervised. I’ll let you guess who drew the short straw and had to share a tent with the untidiest asthmatic in Papua New Guinea. On multiple occasions, I had to escort out insects that had nestled in Theo’s clothes after he had been too lazy to check his belongings before going to sleep, and the exhaustion from the work wasn’t helped by his high, nasal snore. The time in New Hebron passed quickly. I was genuinely proud of our work; the toilets were functional, the schoolhouse had solar power, and the chapel was fit for worship. On the last night in New Hebron, the villagers threw us a party. We danced around a fire with the locals, ate chickens slaughtered especially for us, stuffed with pandanus nut and barbecued black with sweet potato and taro, and us older kids even snuck a couple of beers, chilled in a fridge hooked up to the school’s power supply. Even as we celebrated, though, a part of me was heartsick. I didn’t want to leave the forest as alone as I had arrived. Things started to die down as we crept into the early hours of the morning. The clouds were thick in the hills, and aside from the dying bonfire in the centre of the village, the jungle was dark. I was meandering back to my tent when I heard retching near the treeline. I turned away from the tent, wandered past the log pile marking the limits of the village and nearly tripped over Prue. In the half-light I could see that she’d been crying and I gently easing myself past the puddle of sick and sat down next to her. I leaned back against the woodpile as she lay her head on my chest. Over the next half hour or so she unloaded. She was worried about her parent’s relationship, stressed about A Levels, petrified that something would happen to Theo, afraid of university. She must have drunk more than I’d realised that evening – either that, or she an even lower tolerance than mine. I gently wrapped my arms around her as she began to weep again, pulling her close against the slight chill of the night. She looked up at me, eyes somewhat dull in the darkness and, trembling, I bent down and touched my lips to hers. In that moment, I was blinded by torchlight. I just had time to threaten him before Theo screamed out, his voice reverberating around the clearing. Prue started wailing, and as I scrambled to put some distance between her and myself, I stamped my foot down on her fresh vomit and slipped, falling hard against a log. I winded myself, and the shock was enough that, by the time I was back on my feet, the rest of the Soul Survivor team had dragged themselves out of their tents. The Rep demanded to know what was going on, and as Prue continued to weep, Theo blubbered that I was holding Prue down, had my hand up her shirt, that I was forcing myself on her. I opened my mouth to protest, but a glare from the Rep made it clear that I wasn’t helping myself. I could hear footsteps from the village and hoping for help I peered around the woodpile and made out a squat figure hobbling towards us. The Rep turned his torch on, illuminating Ezra, one of the older members of the village. His leathery skin was taut from years of farming taro and picking pandanus, and there was steel in his nut-coloured eyes that even now makes me shudder. The interpreter, slightly drunk himself, stumbled over towards the man and the two shared a hurried conversation in Angal, nearly escalating to shouts. The interpreter came back over to the group, his voice suddenly sober as he explained the situation. The villagers had a rite, he said, for disciplining young men caught behaving inappropriately with unmarried girls. Gaigai Dala dated back further than anyone cared to remember and was the law before the first missionaries arrived at the village during Ezra’s childhood. To complete Gaigai Dala, the guilty youth would have to wander the forest for an entire night in darkness, circling the village and keeping the glow from the bonfire on his left. After each circumnavigation, he would prostrate himself on the ground at the limits of the village, facing away from the fire and screaming into the dirt. By doing this, the youth would leave his soul to the mercy of the Earth and his body to the mercy of the forest; if innocent, he would return in the morning unscathed. If guilty, then the forest would kill him, and the Earth would swallow his bones. The punishment for refusing Gaigai Dala was live burial beneath the firepit. I sat back down and swore to myself as the Rep started to argue with Ezra through the interpreter. Those minutes were agonizing, only hearing half the conversation, but I could make out what was going on clear enough. The Rep refused to let a kid he was legally responsible for wander around the jungle alone in the dark, but Ezra wasn’t in the mood to compromise with outsiders. If we disrespected the traditions of the village we would have to leave immediately. I glanced up at Prudence, desperate for her to speak up, but she averted her eyes. My heart pounded in my chest as Ezra and the Rep approached and handed me my sentence. The Rep told me firmly that my actions could not go unpunished, and that the traditions of the village had to be respected. The words were like a punch to the gut and I quietly begged Prue to tell the truth, but she still stared at the forest floor. Ezra had, however, relented somewhat. I would not be taking the Gaigai Dala alone. Instead, I would be accompanied by a villager of Ezra’s choosing, to ensure that I respected the custom. Ezra ordered the rest of the Soul Benefactor group back to their tents, and as one of the girls helped Prudence to her feet and lead her away, I saw Theo’s face twist into the self-satisfied grin of a well-fed snake. My supposed friends were replaced minutes later by a group of villagers and one, a tall, thin teenager wordlessly commanded me to undress to my underwear and marched me barefoot away from New Hebron. That silent youth forced me through the woods for four hours. The hike from Mount Hagen up into the hills had been hard work, of course, but the dehydration, exhaustion, and humiliation made every circuit of that village a new torture. Each time we arrived at the wood pile, my warder smacked me in the shins with a hard wooden cane and forced me to the ground, face down, kneeling on my back until I screamed into the earth, only allowing me to stop when my voice was hoarse. I lost count of how many times I was made to bite down on the bitter wetness of that fertile soil, but I know that with each scream I cursed the name of Theodore Stearne. I faltered once in my march of penance. Stumbling from tiredness and feeling the first stabbing pangs of what would be my first ever hangover, it occurred to me that tomorrow we would begin the three-day trek back to Mount Hagen. I cried out then and, weeping with fatigue, collapsed to my knees. A sharp cane blow to the kidney made me sure not to stop again. By the time dawn came, I was resolved to hold my tongue. Ezra could have whatever opinion he believed, but the forest had judged me. Short of making the trip home uncomfortable and forcing me out of the church, there wasn’t a lot that the rest of the group could do either. My chances with Prue were shattered, sure, but I was off to university soon enough, and the freshers at Cardiff wouldn’t care about my dalliance with religion. As for Theo, I already knew that I would never say another word to him. The youth forced me to the ground, just yards away from where Prudence and I had been discovered and, after screaming once more, I looked up to see Ezra standing by the woodpile. He nodded once, formally, and gestured towards the line of tents dimly visible in the grey morning mist. I got to my feet and scooped up my cold, damp clothes, shaking them out carefully to make sure no undesirable creatures had taken up residence during my trial. My limbs began to tremble with exhaustion and cold, but the promise of a couple of hours in the sleeping bag made me determined not to show the physical toll of the Gaigai Dala in front of my judge. I turned once more to Ezra, trying to communicate as much of my contempt as possible with a glare, but the old man’s face only looked tired and sombre. I slouched back across the forest clearing, stopping outside of my shared tent. With a sneer I realised that the bastard was awake inside, the whistling snore absent in that moment. I recalled my resolve, though, and remembered that everything I wanted to say to him I had screamed into the ground. My anger surged when I unzipped the tent, though. He’d ransacked the place. My clothes, which I had left carefully piled for easy packing were all across the floor of the tent. A gallon bottle of water lay on its side, soaking my sleeping bag and the little shit, lying diagonally across the floor, was clutching tightly to my dark red leather belt, a prized possession of mine that my grandfather had gifted to me before he died. I went to grab his shoulders wanting to shake some sense into him and froze. I hadn’t brought my belt with me; it was far too precious an item to risk out here in the jungle. Something else was wrong, too. The tent wasn’t just quiet, it was silent; the reedy asthmatic breath stopped. In the ever-increasing dawn light, I could make out the deep, bruised mottling of Theo’s skin, spreading up from his arm. A few dark maroon lines crept serpentine up his neck towards his face, which was fixed in a blind rictus masked by broken glasses. His lips were full and purple like overripe grapes. It was only when the belt unhooked its fangs and slithered down his arm in a steady anticlockwise corkscrew that I realised what was going on. As Theo’s cold purple fingertips brushed its red scales, the taipan looked at me, eyes the colour of rich, fertile forest soil. With a single flick of its forked tongue the snake left the tent. It was only then that I had the presence of mind to scream. Prudence didn’t cry when she saw her brother’s body. A sick part of me wonders if she felt some relief at a worry being crossed off her list. It’s impossible for me to know. I didn’t hear her say anything more than single word answers in the days we waited at New Hebron for evacuation, nor in the week we spent shuffling in and out of the British High Commission at Port Moresby. I don’t have contact with her or her parents anymore, and last I heard she was studying veterinary science at a school in Australia. I didn’t attend Theodore Stearne’s funeral. Whatever lingering faith I had I lost on that night in Papua New Guinea. If there are gods out there, they shouldn’t be prayed to.
Update map with hut gletsch and hotel http://www.tolkienlibrary.com/press/1120-alpenwild-tour-in-the-footsteps-of-tolkien.php Tolkien's Worlds: The Places That Inspired the Writer's Imagination By John Garth Tolkien’s gedling Tolkien’s switzerland This is an updated version of an older post. It is a Reddit favourite fact Tolkien once visited Lauterbrunnen, and that it inspired Rivendell (evidence here). But he also did far more in his trip to Switzerland. I am a fan of Tolkien, but not a superfan. I have never touched The Silmarillion, plus I had to look up most of the named places in this post. I am much more of a Switzerland-Nerd really. This started as a quick fact-check that grew rather out of hand…..
---Basic facts:--- Tolkien visited Switzerland for a few weeks in the summer (July/August) of 1911 at age of 19. He and his brother were taken by the Brookes-Smith family who were a little eccentric sounding. They went as a very mixed party of 12 (with a local guide too) and did an impressive amount of walking whilst carrying heavy loads and often sleeping rough. Most of the information about this comes from a letter (letter 306) that he wrote to his son 57 years later in 1968 at the age of 76. Some parts are clearly remembered and directly linked to places in the books, others are skipped over or rather more vague. So it is a little hard to figure it out exactly what he did (still not bad for a brief letter written so long after just being somewhere once). Another letter (letter 232) directly states that some of the events ended up in the Hobbit. I have put a full version of both at the end of this post. It is mentioned elsewhere than an unpublished account of the trip by Colin Brookes-Smith contradicts some of the more extravagant claims by Tolkien in his letters. The only example given is that they actually stayed at inns most of the time rather than camping in cow sheds. The information seems to come from the book ‘Tolkien’s Gedling’ by Andrew H. Morton. There are only 3 dates that can be pinned down:
“On 17 August 1911, Tolkien's friend Christopher Wiseman replied to two cards received that day from Tolkien, who he said was 'on the other side of the valley' from Gletsch.” ‘Tolkien's Worlds: The Places That Inspired the Writer's Imagination’ By John Garth.
It can be easy to read into everything and to start assigning connections to every little event or place, but I have tried to avoid that (see the blogs linked at the end for some enthusiastic work there). I think the films have also skewed the perception somewhat towards the Alpine landscape thanks to being shot in New Zealand. Really Tolkien spent far more time in the gentler English landscape and was for example quoted as saying that the hills were his white mountains between Gondor and Rohan, which is quite different to the endless high and lonely peaks that the beacons manned by mountaineers somehow sat on in the film SOURCE AND EXAMPLE. But it is open to whatever you want, so romanticise away if you like. ---The route:--- Just about all of the attention goes to Lauterbrunnen: being the touristy photogenic spot everyone likes to shout about Lauterbrunnen having the connection to him, but they did a bigger tour that certainly inspired other parts of his work. Simply put it seems to go: Birmingham – Munich – Innsbruck - Interlaken – Lauterbrunnen – Mürren – Kleine Scheidegg – Grosse Scheidegg – Meiringen – Grimselpass – Brig - Somewhere at the base of the Aletsch glacier (Belalp maybe?) – Zermatt. My copy of ‘Von Casanova bus Churchhill’ also mentions Arolla, but Google map of the rough route and places he mentions in Switzerland. They certainly got about, and especially so if (as it sounds) they did it all by foot. By my estimate this is at least 232km with 8000m of height gain. And that is ignoring uncertain side excursions which would add a fair bit more height change on. Hardcore seemed to be the order of the day going by the diary of Miss Jemima Morrell who was one of the first package tourists to Switzerland. ---Then vs now:--- Clearly 107 years is a long time. There has been change, but the sights and feel would still be recognisable. You can use the Swiss topographic map with its time-jump feature (swipe back and forth) to see how the whole country looked in 1911 compared to now (or any other year from the mid 1800s if you change the settings). In short there was much more glacier, and far less buildings then. The increase in buildings and infrastructure (especially the ski infrastructure) since then would probably give JRR a heart attack and lead to comments about “The Scouring of the Schweiz”. Not to say they are ruined industrial landscapes, but there is a hell of a lot more humanity around now than then. The noise of traffic (especially motorbikes) on the pass roads would really upset him.
”It is full Maytime by the trees and grass now. But the heavens are full of roar and riot. You cannot even hold a shouting conversation in the garden now, save about 1 a.m. and 7 p.m. – unless the day is too foul to be out. How I wish the 'infernal combustion' engine had never been invented.” (Letter 64)
Switzerland was a tourist destination now and then, but the number of visitors and infrastructure serving them has vastly increased which contributes to the above. There are still Tolkien friendly old rural style Shire-like ways, but mostly with a modern twist. You can still see generations of a family collecting their hay with rakes and scythes from the fields in summer, though often most of the work is done by special tractors except on the steepest slopes. Farmers are even paid to keep historic elements like old fountains in good order. Cows still roam the meadows, though now little electric wires keep them in the right place (still got the bells though). ---Recreating this yourself:--- There are actually guided tours with this theme, but is cheaper (500CHF per day is insane) and easy enough to do it yourself. The footpath and transport system in Switzerland makes this very easy to plan and do. You could see all of it with 2-3 weeks of pure hard hiking, or a few days of relaxed public transport rides along the same routes with no physical exertion. (Almost) all of which are safe and worry free: you are never far from civilization for supplies or shelter. I have written about hiking in Switzerland, and also Switzerland in general to quite an extensive degree before. My post on the Jungfrau region also covers a the area around a fair few of the early stages. Surprisingly the local tourist offices don't make much of a fuss about it (beyond a cut-out of Aragorn in Lauterbrunnen). I have never noticed any signs, theme walks, tourist tack or anything like it in the area, which is a little odd as the Swiss love their themed tourism (see the Mark Twain walks at Rigi and Riffelberg, and the milking of James bond at Schilthorn). About the only thing is this page on the Jungfrau tourism website which is fairly well hidden. It starts out well, but then degrades into desperately trying to tie every tourist activity in the area to something from LOTR. This all takes place in the German speaking part of the country, in most places along the way English is widely spoken due to the tourism industry. High-German will function if you know it, just don’t expect to understand the Swiss-German you hear (especially in Valais). You can probably imagine that Swiss-German is a Middle-Earth based language…… (if you do want to learn more about Swiss German then see this post)) Almost nobody has the time or energy to walk this whole thing in a perfect recreation, and frankly parts of this like Meiringen to the Grimselpass probably wouldn’t be much fun now (think endless reving motorbikes). But if you do want to do what I am going to term “the full Hobbit”, then I have made a hiking map here for the whole thing – Link. A 275 km hike with +15,000m / -12,000m height difference. It is important to remember the context that he came from a heavily industrial city in the gentle landscape of the UK Midlands, passing through other industrial cities along the way before arriving in the rural alpine valleys. You might want to visit a giant Chinese industrial city first for a few weeks to establish the right feeling on arrival. ---Stages--- Stage 1: Interlaken to Lauterbrunnen valley Source (306):
We went on foot carrying great packs practically all the way from Interlaken, mainly by mountain paths, to Lauterbrunnen and so to Mürren and eventually to the head of the Lauterbrunnenthal in a wilderness of morains.
The main iconic waterfall is the Staubbachfall which you can walk to from Lauterbrunnen village in 5 minutes (and go through a tunnel behind it for free in summer), more impressive but hidden (and not free) is the Trummelbachfalls which are about 30 minutes along the valley by foot (or an easy drive/bus ride). The marketing line “the valley of 72 waterfalls” has really stuck. Though just about any mountain valley will have lots of waterfalls, and unless it is actually raining you will have a hard time counting 72 (or even care about more than 10 of them).
Interlaken has nothing of interest (unless you love hotels and tourist shops), don’t bother with it other than somewhere to sleep or change trains. Despite being between the lakes it is not on either so it doesn’t have a lakeside feel.
Lauterbrunnen village looks pretty in photos but really isn’t that pretty or interesting in reality. I wouldn’t opt to spend any time in it myself.
To really enter like a hobbit one must look at two quotes, one from Tolkien himself:
”We went on foot carrying great packs practically all the way from Interlaken, mainly by mountain paths, to Lauterbrunnen and so to Mürren and eventually to the head of the Lauterbrunnenthal in a wilderness of morains.”
And one from the Hobbit:
“Here it is at last!” he called, and the others gathered round him and looked over the edge. They saw a valley far below. They could hear the voice of hurrying water in a rocky bed at the bottom; the scent of trees was in the air; and there was a light on the valley-side across the water.
To avoid the roads you can do mountain trails right out of Interlaken, up to Sulegg, and along to drop down into Lauterbrunnen. This fits with the book but would be a really hard start to the trip, it would however be a truly unique experience as the number of people doing this entry to the valley must be utterly tiny. You could do this all on foot as a 2 day hike Link, or you can also take the bus from Wilderswil Bahnhof to Saxeten to reduce it down to a single day hike Link. Either way you would understand how Biblo got so tired (and he had a pony too).
Alternatively the 1 or 2 day hike with massive height changes can be skipped with a 20 minute train ride directly to Lauterbrunnen from Interlaken Ost.
A more moderate route is to take the train in, wander up the valley to the Trummelbachfalle and back, then go up to Grütschalp and do the mountain trail to Mürren.
You can get in, about, and up the sides of the valley easily with public transport.
Stage 2: End of the Lauterbrunnental A hike up to the end of the valley. Source
”We went on foot carrying great packs practically all the way from Interlaken, mainly by mountain paths, to Lauterbrunnen and so to Mürren and eventually to the head of the Lauterbrunnenthal in a wilderness of morains.”
The view of the Silberhorn (a secondary peak of the Jungfrau)) really stuck with Tolkien. He called it "the Silvertine (Celebdil) of my dreams" (the peak with the tower where the Gandalf-Balrog fight ends, I had to look it up too).
Tolkien talks about the morrains, which some people link to the strenuous experience of Frodo climbing mount Doom (and having climbed plenty of similar places I can agree there).
The hotel Obersteinberg is still there and can be reached from Stechelberg (bus from Lauterbrunnen). Otherwise from Mürren to Chlichbalm might be a good stand-in idea here. You can make these as easy or hard as you like really.
There is no super-easy option here in terms of pushing up into the very end of the valley by foot. Maybe going up by cable car to Schilthorn would be closest. It would be scenic at least.
Stage 3: Lauterbrunnen to Grindelwald Source (letter 306):
We must then have gone eastward over the two Scheidegge to Grindelwald, with Eiger and Mönch on our right
Route
Easy: Train.
Hard: Hike.
More info
Up and down over the Kleine Scheidegg pass (car free).
Go via Wengen for best view up the valley (see the post photo which is the classic view taken around Wengen itself).
This can be done as a fairly tough hike (19km, +/- 1400/1150m), it is infact stage 11 of the Via-Alpina route. However the Lauterbrunnen-Kleine Scheidegg-Grindelwald mountain trains present an escape option if you get too tired at any point, or want to cut the length down. The Lauterbrunnen-Kleine Scheidegg-Grindelwald pass line opened in 1893 and was electrified before Tolkien arrived so it isn’t too big a cheat.
An obvious diversion here would be taking the train to Jungfraujoch. This opened in 1912 after Tolkien passed by, but they had partial service to the Eiger and Eismeer windows before then, so maybe he went part way up. The view is impressive, but not especially unique and it is slow and expensive to get up. It is something I have done once and never felt the need to do again.
Stage 4: Grindelwald to Meiringen. Source (letter 306)
We must then have gone eastward over the two Scheidegge to Grindelwald, with Eiger and Mönch on our right, and eventually reached Meiringen.
Route: Up and down over the Grosse Scheidegg pass (car free, bar the odd bus).
Again this can be done with a single rather tough hike (23km, +/- 1100/1500m), it is infact stage 10 of the Via-Alpina route, it could also make a very good 2 day hike. Or you can use the buses to reduce the length, or escape when you are tired.
During warmer months this can be done in less than 2 hrs by bus. If you take bus 128 to Schwarzwaldalp, then 148 down to Meiringen.
In the final approach to Meiningen you pass by the Reichenbachfalls of Sherlock Holmes fame (not bad falls, but far from the best around). The funicular there opened in 1899 and it is very likely that at least someone in the party would have wanted to see it.
On which note the whole Sherlock Holmes theme to Meiringen is really surreal. Otherwise Meiringen is pleasant enough but nothing exciting (though it does claim to be home to the Meringue).
Stage 5: Meiringen to Brig. Up the Grimselpass (lots of cars), then down via Obergoms (much quieter). Source (letter 306):
We later crossed the Grimsell Pass down on to the dusty highway, beside the Rhone, on which horse 'diligences' still plied: but not for us. We reached Brig on foot, a mere memory of noise : then a network of trams that screeched on their rails for it seemed at least 20 hrs of the day.
This is one place with a direct connection as Tolkien sent a postcard from Gletsch SOURCE. The glacier would have been visible and much more impressive then. Quite a bit would have changed along this section: the dams, the road opening up to much more tourist traffic, the power cables.
This is about 73km with 2000m of height gain and loss. That combined with the first half being right next to a popular pass-road makes me suggest that walking the whole thing wouldn’t be the best idea.
During warmer months a Postbus (#161) runs from Meiringen to Oberwald. From there you can take the train down to Brig. However the bus only runs twice a day or so, so you can’t hop on and off wherever it takes your fancy sadly. Otherwise you can detour via Meiringen-Interlaken-Spiez-Brig on the train. This would be pretty but would take you away from the “true” route.
If you do want to walk some of it I would suggest doing that in the Obergoms area which is a beautiful valley with meadows and small (mostly wooden and rustic) villages. For example from Gluringen to Fiesch (via the suspension bridge).
The Aare gorge just outside Meiringen opened to tourists in 1888 (and was actually more extensive then) and Tolkien would have had to have walked through or near it.
Brig is fairly forgettable. The old town is small but pleasant, and the Stockalper Schloss is pretty enough. Tolkien talks of “screeching trams”, I presume he meant the trains which were running down the valley then as Brig doesn’t seem to have ever had a tram network.
Stage 6: Around the Aletsch glacier. Source letter 306:
Route
Easy suggestion: .
Hard suggestion: .
Misc Up the mountainside to the foot of the mighty glacier (all car free up there). This is the real unspoiled fantasy-land where you can quite easily get at least a bit of the way into the UNESCO region.
Quite where he stayed is impossible to say exactly. Maybe for the actual foot of the glacier “Oberer Aletsch” or “üssers Aletschi” would fit, but they are literally a few remote Alp sheds so are not the best option (or if you are hardcore they might actually be the best option). Bealp or Riederalp are much more practical with shops and cable car access. Access around there via train and cable car is easy from Brig or anywhere else on the valley floor.
He directly states that events like a stone fall from the melting glacier narrowly missing him, and a thunderstorm that forced them into shelter ended up in the Hobbit.
A guide or skills and equipment are needed if you want to go on the glacier itself.
Stage 7: Zermatt. The final stage up Zermatt for a view of the Matterhorn. It seems Tolkien went over the pass and down to Arolla, but that is going to be above and beyond for most people. Source (letter 306):
After this we went on into Valais, and my memories are less clear; though I remember our arrival, bedraggled, one evening in Zermatt and the lorgnette stares of the French bourgeoises dames. We climbed with guides up to [a] high hut of the Alpine Club, roped (or I should have fallen into a snow-crevasse), and I remember the dazzling whiteness of the tumbled snow-desert between us and the black horn of the Matterhom some miles away.
Source (306):
25 August 1911 Tolkien signs the guest book at the Cabane de Bertol, above Arolla on the Col de Bertol (Bertol Pass). This is presumably the day trip to a high-altitude hut recalled by both Tolkien and Colin Brookes-Smith.
Route
Easy suggestion: Gornergrat above Zermatt. It isn’t the right hut.
Hard suggestion: . From. There is no path.
Misc
There are various options for a similar experience. I am going to pick the Monte Rosa hut, as you can easily substitute going up to nearby Gornergrat for this. You can hike up there, or take the train up (the fully electric train opened in 1898). Whether you want someone to drag you across a glacier is up to you.
Given how much parts of the trip seem to translate directly to the Hobbit you might see it that the Matterhorn is the Lonely Mountain reached at the end of a long and perilous journey. Though clearly it is lacking a lake, and isn’t THAT lonely, so the inspiration wouldn’t be 100% direct.
Mark Twain also came here, his ascent of the Riffelberg and to Gornergrat is well worth a read.
How I would do this: If that was too much info and you just want a fixed plan then this is what I would suggest for 10-14 days (for shorter time frames you could use public transport to skip whole sections). This is full on, so add a rest day in as you like.
Day 1: Interlaken to Lauterbrunnen by train. Walk along the valley to the Trummelbachfalls, double back to Lauterrunnen, take the cable car to Grütschalp and then the Mountain Trail hike to Mürren.
Day 2: End of valley hike.
Day 3: Hike over the Kleine Scheidegg to Grindelwald. (Shortcut up or down with train)
Day 4: Hike over the Grosse Scheidegg to Meiringen. (shortcut with bus)
Day 5: Meiringen to Brig via bus and train. Hike along a section of the Obergoms (eg: Gluringen to Fiesch).
Day 6: Cable car up to Eggishorn, admire the glacier and follow the path along to Bettmeralp.
Day 7: Hike from Rideralp to Belalp via the Aletsch forest.
Day 8: Train to Zermatt. Take a gentle hike up to Zmutt.
You could then spend a day or two travelling to Chur and visit the Greisinger museum. Though I would try and avoid the Glacier Express and take local trains myself. Stop off at places like the Rhein gorge to make the most of it. Misc:
It is a bit out the way of this route, and nowhere near where Tolkien himself went, but the Greisinger Museum sounds like it is worth checking out. Basically a dedicated/mad Swiss bloke made a museum containing Hobbit-hole near Chur. You can book tours by language on their website. At 50CHF it isn’t cheap (but is still cheaper than Hobbiton in NZ).
The building at the St Beaten caves near Interlaken looks like it fell out of picture of Rivendell but are probably nothing do with Tolkien. The site was a tourist spot then and it isn’t far from Interlaken so maybe he went (if he did he didn’t mention it). Apparently there is a part of it that dates back to the 1500s as a chapel, but as far as I can tell the structure is for the most part very modern and as likely to have been inspired by Tolkien as VV. Still the caves are pretty and there is a myth of a dragon residing in the area too. My post on visiting there.
It is said in his biography that at some point in the trip Tolkien bought of postcard of “Der Berggeist” by Josef Madlener which he kept and wrote on it “origin of Gandalf”. However the daughter of the artist says the painting was most likely done 1925-1930, so he probably didn’t pick it up in Switzerland.
Tolkien never went anywhere near it, but Appenzell is basically the shire (if a little steeper). A very traditional rural area (women in Appenzell Innerrhoden couldn’t vote on local issues until 1991) that is worth a few days to explore. Yet again see this post of mine.
I am.... delighted that you have made the acquaintance of Switzerland, and of the very part that I once knew best and which had the deepest effect on me. The hobbit's (Bilbo's) journey from Rivendell to the other side of the Misty Mountains, including the glissade down the slithering stones into the pine woods, is based on my adventures in 1911: the annus mirabilis of sunshine in which there was virtually no rain between April and the end of October, except on the eve and morning of George V's coronation. (Adfuit Omen!) Our wanderings mainly on foot in a party of 12 are not now clear in sequence, but leave many vivid pictures as clear as yesterday (that is as clear as an old man's remoter memories become). We went on foot carrying great packs practically all the way from Interlaken, mainly by mountain paths, to Lauterbrunnen and so to Mürren and eventually to the head of the Lauterbrunnenthal in a wilderness of morains. We slept rough – the men-folk – often in hayloft or cowbyre, since we were walking by map and avoided roads and never booked, and after a meagre breakfast fed ourselves in the open: cooking utensils and quantities of 'spridvin' (as the one uneducated French-speaking member of the party both called and wrote it, for 'methylated spirit'). We must then have gone eastward over the two Scheidegge to Grindelwald, with Eiger and Mönch on our right, and eventually reached Meiringen. I left the view of Jungfrau with deep regret: eternal snow, etched as it seemed against eternal sunshine, and the Silberhorn sharp against dark blue: the Silvertine (Celebdil) of my dreams. We later crossed the Grimsell Pass down on to the dusty highway, beside the Rhone, on which horse 'diligences' still plied: but not for us. We reached Brig on foot, a mere memory of noise : then a network of trams that screeched on their rails for it seemed at least 20 hrs of the day. After a night of that we climbed up some thousands of feet to a village at the foot of the Aletsch glacier, and there spent some nights in a châlet inn under a roof and in beds (or rather under them: the bett being a shapeless bag under which you snuggled). I can remember several incidents there! One was going to confession in Latin; others less exemplary were the invention of a method of dealing with your friends the harvestmen spiders, by dropping hot wax from a candle onto their fat bodies (this was not approved of by the servants); also the practice of the beaver-game which had always fascinated me. A wonderful place for the game, plenty of water at that altitude coming down in rills, abundant damming material in loose stones, heather, grass and mud. We soon had a beautiful little 'pond' (containing I guess at least 200 gallons). Then the pangs of hunger smote us, and one of the hobbits of the party (he is still alive) shouted 'lunch' and wrecked the dam with his alpenstock. The water soared down the hill-side, and we then observed that we had dammed a rill that ran down to feed the tanks and butts behind the inn. At that moment an old dame trotted out with a bucket to fetch some water, and was greeted by a mass of foaming water. She dropped the bucket and fled calling on the saints. We lay more doggo than 'men of the moss-hags' for some time, and eventually wound our way round to present ourselves grubby (but we were usually so on that trip) and sweetly innocent at 'lunch'. One day we went on a long march with guides up the Aletsch glacier – when I came near to perishing. We had guides, but either the effects of the hot summer were beyond their experience, or they did not much care, or we were late in starting. Any way at noon we were strung out in file along a narrow track with a snow-slope on the right going up to the horizon, and on the left a plunge down into a ravine. The summer of that year had melted away much snow, and stones and boulders were exposed that (I suppose) were normally covered. The heat of the day continued the melting and we were alarmed to see many of them starting to roll down the slope at gathering speed: anything from the size of oranges to large footballs, and a few much larger. They were whizzing across our path and plunging into the ravine. 'Hard pounding,' ladies and gentlemen. They started slowly, and then usually held a straight line of descent, but the path was rough and one had also to keep an eye on one's feet. I remember the member of the party just in front of me (an elderly schoolmistress) gave a sudden squeak and jumped forward as a large lump of rock shot between us. About a foot at most before my unmanly knees. After this we went on into Valais, and my memories are less clear; though I remember our arrival, bedraggled, one evening in Zermatt and the lorgnette stares of the French bourgeoises dames. We climbed with guides up to [a] high hut of the Alpine Club, roped (or I should have fallen into a snow-crevasse), and I remember the dazzling whiteness of the tumbled snow-desert between us and the black horn of the Matterhom some miles away. I do not suppose all this is very interesting now. But it was a remarkable experience for me at 19, after a poor boy's childhood. I went up to Oxford that autumn.
I always like shrewd sound-hearted maiden aunts. Blessed are those who have them or meet them. Though they are commoner, in my experience, than Saki aunts. The professional aunt is a fairly recent development, perhaps; but I was fortunate in having an early example: one of the first women to take a science degree. She is now ninety, but only a few years ago went botanizing in Switzerland. It was in her company (with a mixed party of about the same size as the company in The Hobbit) that I journeyed on foot with a heavy pack through much of Switzerland, and over many high passes. It was approaching the Aletsch that we were nearly destroyed by boulders loosened in the sun rolling down a snow-slope. An enormous rock in fact passed between me and the next in front. That and the 'thunder-battle' – a bad night in which we lost our way and slept in a cattle-shed – appear in The Hobbit. It is long ago now. ....
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