When we were children, my sister had private music lessons at her violin teacher’s house. I only visited there once, but I still remember that afternoon. The teacher had an artificial pond in her yard, a large beautiful thing with lily pads and plant life. And in the pond, there were goldfish. I had never seen such enormous goldfish.
I spent several minutes just staring at them (and trying to convince them to bite my fingers.) When my sister’s violin lesson ended, her teacher came out to the yard and explained that these goldfish were the same small creatures that were often unfortunately sold in plastic bags at state fairs. They were only about two inches long apiece, when she bought them and put them in the new, empty pond. In essence, they were like every goldfish I had seen before, but they had been given a much larger, much richer environment in which to flourish. As a result, they had grown into some of the most remarkable, vibrant creatures my twelve-year-old self had ever met with. All because of a pond.
Funny what lessons children remember. My sister doesn’t play the violin anymore, but that was the first time I caught a glimpse of the overwhelming extent to which it matters, the way the world treats us.
Kosher salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
DIRECTIONS:
Place a chicken breast on a cutting board. With your hand flat on top of it, carefully slice the chicken in half horizontally. Trim excess fat as needed.
In a large shallow baking dish, combine chicken, pickle juice and ½ cup milk; marinate for at least 30 minutes. Drain well.
Heat peanut oil in a large skillet over medium high heat.
In another large shallow baking dish, whisk together remaining 1 cup milk and egg. Stir in chicken to coat and drain excess milk mixture.
In a gallon size Ziploc bag or large bowl, combine chicken, flour and confectioners’ sugar; season with salt and pepper, to taste.
Working in batches, add chicken to the skillet and cook until evenly golden and crispy, about 4-5 minutes. Transfer to a paper towel-lined plate.
Serve chicken immediately on burger buns with green leaf lettuce, tomato and pickles.
Also if y’all are interested, I have the copycat recipes for the Frosted Lemonade and the Chicken Nuggets
Yesterday I confused a friend because I called him sir and he was like ??? why are you calling me sir we’re friends? And i had to explain that sir is not a word its a feeling. my mac shutting down for no reason is sir. My cat is sir. My pair of jeans is sir. An email that finds me unwell is sir. Two bugs outside my window are sirs.
my mama got home today and she was so excited. she said she got me a present, so then i was excited too. i had no idea what she got me. she said ‘close your eyes and put your hands out’, so i did. and then i felt her put something in my hands. i opened my eyes and
“i saw it and it was chubby and you called a frog ‘big boy’ last night and i had to get it! it’s big boy!”
mama loves that you all think she’s very sweet and she got inspired and went back today and got 2 more to show you all!!
she said “tell the ones that liked big boy thank you and that he has 2 friends now thanks to them!”
My cat’s body is so loose and saggy that he blended in perfectly with a sweater on the ground. When my mom was cleaning up, she thought he was part of the sweater and grabbed him. :(
Y'ever think about what absolute mad decadence we live in that “vanilla” means “plain”
Anytime someone says ‘it’s just vanilla ice cream’ I have to restrain myself from saying, “ah yes, the flavor produced by the seeds of a tropical orchid, a flower which blossoms for a single day before dying, the second most expense spice in the world. Just that.”
Historically, the spices I have in my cabinet are an embarrassment of riches. I have there a large container of whole black peppercorns which I grate fresh over my food. Multiple containers of cinnamon because I forgot I already had some. Ginger, cardamom, red pepper flakes, whole cloves and ground, nutmeg and turmeric. Kings and emperors have not eaten food so well spiced.
I have vanilla ice cream in my freezer (cold! frozen! when the rich would pay fortunes to send for ice from mountains to chill fruit in the summers). I am going to put on my silk robe, fix myself a bowl, and feast.
amaury guichon is a chocolate sorcerer I accept this but is he a fucking architect too? did he study design or carpentry or some shit? man’s either got an impressive wheelhouse of technical skills or a lot of help
“Okay, I don’t have time to watch the whole thing so I’m gonna skip to the end; what is it, like, a palace or somet-whattheFUCK?!” - Me
the classic Finnish mix of extreme dutifulness and “we will make actual conversation after a silent interaction trial period of 6 weeks, thank you” can be really funny sometimes. told my coworker that I’d like to save the coffee grounds the workplace generated and take them home “for my mushrooms and worms” and she was just like “okei” and dutifully saved every single grounds-filled filter for weeks and weeks. about five weeks into this whole thing, after I thank her for the coffee grounds and tell her my worms must love them because they’re breeding very enthusiastically, she finally asks “so your worms… do they have a purpose or are they just… worms”. like sure I’ll save you all these coffee grounds every single time I drink coffee, 3+ times a day, but god forbid I inquire about your specific worm habits before propriety allows it. you could be eating them for breakfast for all I know but that’s your business
this post has been up for so long I’m at a new workplace now, and here’s a new one: someone finally getting a close enough look at the jar of homemade nut butter I’d been using to make snacks for days (in a reused jar, still with the pesto label on it), realising the contents were not as advertised, and saying with poorly concealed relief “ai!!! you weren’t spreading pesto on bananas!” like she’d been quietly dying inside the whole time but had grimly committed herself to never ever presuming to ask wtf was going on
I use this with my hospice patients a lot. Because “is there anything I can do to help?” rarely gets a response. But, “I’ll be here till 6:30 and would like to do one thing to make your room more comfortable before I head out” frequently does get an answer. Often something they deem “too small to bug anyone with” like closing the blinds so there’s no reflection on the tv, or repositioning their socks because the heels have wandered into the front and are uncomfortable, or they want ice cream before dinner today, or getting an extra blanket.
What’s going to make you happy right now? Is it some cake? Is it a nap? Is it calling your mom? Is it going on a drive and blasting music? Is it taking a bath? Is it reading a book?
Check in with yourself because you deserve that happiness, whatever it is.
I also use this on myself. What’s one thing I could do to make my environment more comfortable right now? Does it cure my mental illness? Hell no! Does it make me feel more in control of my feelings and the world around me? You betcha!
