torrilin replied to your post “ALL THE TURKEYS

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torrilin replied to your post “ALL THE TURKEYS ARE DEAD COMPLETE SUCCESS 100% MORTALITY HRRARRRGHHHH…”

I laughed so hard at your pig stories that I woke the partner creature up.

SO DUMB AND GROSS

PIGS ARE SO DUMB AND GROSS

They’re really kind of like exceptionally goofy dogs, if dogs had hooves and weighed 500 pounds and had really sharp teeth and SCREAMED A LOT. 

Also they’re delicious, is the thing, so. 

And, on this farm, which is great, they’re pretty impervious to predators. I definitely would not like to meet the coyote that could take on a pig, even a young one. (Coyotes seem to be more dangerous to cows than pigs, astonishingly enough. Pigs are aggressive sometimes.)
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PSA - How to Export your Tumblr Blog

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shinelikethunder:

beccasafan:

Remember a few months ago when it felt like every single website in existence updated their privacy policy? That was because of GDPR, the General Data Protection Regulation from the EU.

Another part of GDPR? Right of access / right to data portability. 

What this means is that if you ask for it, companies are to give you access to your data so that you could theoretically move it to another service. Many companies have done this by allowing you to export your data and download it. Even if a company doesn’t provide an automated way, you should still be able to contact them and they should provide your data - it doesn’t have to be automatically generated and downloadable.

Tumblr does provide an automated way to export your blog. This should be done individually for each sideblog as well, if you want. (These are instructions for the website - not the app.)

Go to your blog settings page, ie https://ift.tt/2FzapRc>.

Look for the Export section (currently at the bottom)

Click the “Export <your-blog-name>” button.

Depending on the size of your blog, it may take a while to generate the export. It will say that it’s processing, and you can reload the page and come back later to check if it’s done.

When your export is processed and ready, the Export section will have a button to download.

Once you’ve downloaded the file, extract it to a folder on your computer. It will contain:

A media folder with images, gifs, videos, and audio files.

A messages xml file. Your messages are in here, even if it doesn’t look “human readable” and is gibberish to you, I promise. There are tools that will “beautify” xml to make it more readable.

A posts.zip file. Extract this and you’ll see an html folder that has an html file for each of your posts.

Holy shit they finally did it.BTW, the size of the export varies wildly based on how much media content is on your blog. I’ve got a main and a sideblog with a little over 6000 posts each, one a bit heavier on text, the other skewing more towards photosets and the like. The zip files are 3 gigs and 11 gigs respectively.
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1dietcokeinacan: mercurydaze: the real “problem

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1dietcokeinacan:

mercurydaze:

the real “problem with political correctness” is not that it’s considered offensive to use slurs, but that there are now many “progressive” environments where saying the right things is more important than doing the right thing. it’s why it’s so easy for abusers to gain traction in leftist circles (they learn the right words quickly and employ them to frame their own behavior as progressive); it’s why so much potential activist energy gets poured into fighting about language; it’s why moderate liberals didn’t believe fer/guson had a problem until the police emails with actual racist language were leaked. (you can do racist things, you just can’t SAY racist things.) i don’t have a neat conclusion here but a related point is that i’m so much happier since i started focusing on like, being a good kind caring person instead of trying to remove the word “crazy” from the vocabulary of everyone in my family

Just saying this is truly one of the best “discourse” posts on this site like……this hits the nail directly on the head re: what is going on with language right now and everyone pushing back in the notes only serves to further prove the point it’s making
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domestic bliss

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southern brother in law showed up at 6 to go out and hunt deer. the dog barked at him. 

farmkid and i watched as her parents moved the hens. i found some discarded eggs that had been laid under the pasture unit, and went and fed them to the breeding stock. PB the Useless Boar was the only one sharp enough to figure out what I was doing when I showed him the egg and laid it down on the ground in front of him. He munched them contemplatively, and then the sows screamed at him because they wanted whatever he was eating, but they didn’t understand what he was eating. 

I sang the Boar’s Head Carol to him. I don’t know what the recipe would be, for such a thing, but we had it as part of a pageant at my high school, and there was a papier-mache prop of a boar’s head resplendently arrayed.

The boar’s head in hand bear I
bedecked with bays and rosemary
and I pray you my masters, be merry
quot estis in convivio!

Caput apri defero
reddens laudes domino (x2)

Twenty years on, I still know three verses of it, in their entirety. Farmsister vetoed any attempt to serve PB’s head for Christmas. 

The Southern Niblings arrived, and the puppies, who are nearly full-grown now, and want so badly for Farmdog to let them love her. 

Farmsister went outside to harvest brussels sprouts, and the middle Southern kid went with her (he’s newly nine), and did a great job and was very helpful and she offered him a job whenever he wants. 

My mother has now been sitting at the kitchen table fixing brussels sprouts for like. Oh, two hours? Three? I was needle-felting some patches onto my wool clogs, but I finally felt useless and got off my butt. I’ve now mostly made the stuffing, and filled the woodbox in preparation to building a fire later. It’s only in the mid-twenties now, but it’s going to plunge overnight, and I’m expecting we’ll want to be snuggly tonight. 

We’re not going anywhere for dinner tonight: it’s pizza at the farm for everyone. My dad, my poor dad, has been alone up the hill working on the barn all by himself, because Southern BIL dug a couple big holes and that was it, he’s back to hunting (fair enough), and farm-BIL has been frantically trying to deal with the accounting from turkey day and just arrived home.

My-dude texted that he was leaving Buffalo around noon, so we’ll see him around dinnertime. 

I finally lit the fire in the woodstove myself; I’m the most ignorant about it, but I was also the only person left inside. The children are sledding and we can see their cheeks getting pinker and pinker out on that hill. Dude texted from Utica, which is our traditional check-in spot. Southern Sister has gone up the hill to help Dad, and so has Farm BIL, and the dogs, left behind, are making a terrible racket. 

Our stew’rd hath provided this
in honor of the King of Bliss
which on this day to be servéd is
in reginensi atrio!
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