From the point of view of being an Actual Historian I just find the idea of needing to be "proud" of history baffling. Identifying with the history of a nation, which is in and of itself a made up thing, is just weird. It is also something that usually corresponds with not studying history.

Even my husband who hates lima beans liked these.

We are redoing last year’s menu: parmentier du confit du canard, salad of local radicchio topped with blue cheese and toasted walnuts, roasted local carrots, and finishing with a tarte au citron topped with whipped cream.

I always realize I’m maybe in not-normal territory when I start with, “Ok, so…” and my husband takes a much larger sip than normal from his wine glass.

Every time they get us to abandon each other they win.

That is it.

I’ve described myself as a cultural Catholic for decades. I was born into folk Mass, first communion to “Morning Has Broken,” & no attendance since the early 90s.
I am all in on Leo, and taking down all those Opus Dei convert fkers.

Fierté du territoire, des valeurs, puis : fierté tout court. Tout du long, sa campagne a été enthousiaste, motivée, joyeuse, pleine d'énergie : elle n'a pas mobilisé les émotions négatives que l'on retrouve beaucoup à gauche (colère, peur, amertume...), parce qu'on se sent souvent impuissants.

5/8

I used to make tollhouse bar cookies with mashed up malted milk balls and M&Ms. It’s not the same, I’m sure, but malted milk balls you bash to death in a ziplock bag are a nice addition to a lot of cookie-ish desserts.

The world's most elegant goofball.

Started his life in the UGA teaching dairy; now loves chenille, canned fish goo, and pathetically lamenting his lack of canned fish goo at least one hour prior to the time for canned fish goo.

This is what it used to look like inside the lobby area.