A stray dog in Bolivia joined a monastery and became a monk. The resident monks of St. Francis Monastery, named for the patron saint of animals, decided to adopt a dog they call ‘Friar Bigotón’ from the Cold Nose Project, which hopes the dog’s story will now inspire more monasteries to take in homeless pets. SourceSource 2Source 3
A few years ago, when I was living in the housing co-op and looking for a quick cookie recipe, I came across a blog post for something called “Norwegian Christmas butter squares.” I’d never found anything like it before: it created rich, buttery and chewy cookies, like a vastly superior version of the holiday sugar cookies I’d eaten growing up. About a year ago I went looking for the recipe again, and failed to find it. The blog had been taken down, and it sent me into momentary panic.
Luckily, I remembered enough to find it on the Wayback Machine, and quickly copied it into a file that I’ve saved ever since. I probably make these cookies about once a month, and they last about five days around my voracious husband – they’re fantastic with a cup of bitter coffee or tea. I’m skeptical that there is something distinctively Norwegian about these cookies, but they do seem like the perfect thing to eat on a cold day.
Norwegian Christmas Butter Squares
1 cup unsalted butter, softened
1 egg 1 cup sugar 2 cups flour 1 tsp vanilla ½ tsp salt Turbinado/ Raw Sugar for dusting
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Chill a 9×13″ baking pan in the freezer. Do not grease the pan.
Using a mixer, blend the butter, egg, sugar, and salt together until it is creamy. Add the flour and vanilla and mix using your hands until the mixture holds together in large clumps. If it seems overly soft, add a little extra flour.
Using your hands, press the dough out onto the chilled and ungreased baking sheet until it is even and ¼ inch thick. Dust the top of the cookies evenly with raw sugar.
Bake at 400 degrees until the edges turn a golden brown, about 12-15 minutes. Remove from the oven. Let cool for about five minutes before cutting the cooked dough into squares. Remove the squares from the warm pan using a spatula.
So I tried this recipe.
And it is GREAT.
It basically makes the platonic ideal of commercial sugar cookies, only in bar form. When I give them to people (which I do a lot, because this is one of those simple recipes where the results seem very impressive), I just tell them they’re sugar cookie bars.
My roots are not hermetically sealed in this bag, they have access to gas exchange with the cabin air. My roots are thus exposed in this transparent bag, naked to the universe. Embarrassed, it took me a few days to get over the idea that anyone can see my roots without any dirt covering them.
My gardener fusses with my leaves. I am not sure if I like that. I now have four and I do not quite understand why he behaves this way. He sticks his nose up against them. Does he take me for some sort of a handkerchief? Apparently he takes pleasure in my earthy green smell. There is nothing like the smell of living green in this forest of engineered machinery. I see the resultant smile. Maybe this is one of my roles as a crewmember on this expedition.
I have a call sign. I guess a call sign is a fighter pilot thing and was surprised that I could earn such a title. At first someone suggested “Four-Leaf”. I was a bit embarrassed when I heard this since I still only sport four leaves and feel a bit sensitive to this fact. My gardener intervened and said that would not do. He gave me my call sign – “Rose”.
My gardener made special arrangements for a two way video conference with a special Earth-flower. When all the arrangements had been made, he took me from my window and placed me center stage in front of the video camera. She was a very attractive flower all neatly dressed. He said to her, “I can not offer you much; I can only give you a space zucchini.” The image of my orange blossom was beamed across the void between spacecraft and Earth. Her heart melted. I felt as much a rose as any rose could ever be.
Behind this zucchini is a deeply frustrated romance novelist.
why are some teachers so insistantly aggressive about punishing children for having interests they dont understand?
I remember this shit happening while I was still in school too where anything that was really popular among young boys was instantly labelled a distraction that you could be punished for. pokemon, yu-gi-oh, beyblades, all of them were banned very quickly from my school and I remember on numerous occassions teachers calling them stupid and pointless and going on tangents about how they dont let their children engage in interests like that because it rots your brain. what was the deal? And the main excuse would always be that it was a distraction. Like yeah thats the point pricipal dr.deepshit, children cant be expected to be 100% focussed on their schoolwork for 8 hours a day. they need to have outlets to blow off steam because school is fucking hard. let kids like things you stank asses.
I remember Pokemon getting banned at my first elementary school because it was “unChristian”, and even at that young of an age I knew that was complete hogwash.
john madden john madden john madden john madden john madden
here comes another chinese earthquake abrbrbrbrrbrbrrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrrbbrrbrbbrrbrbrbrbrbrbrbbrbrrbbrbrrbrbrbrbbrrbbrbrbrrbrbbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrbrrbbrrbrbbrrbrbrbrbrbrbrbbrbrr
snake
snake
snakee
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I’ve actually emailed Etsy support about this and they literally just told me to read their site rules…
Fuckers.
is wearing any of this shit or having it in our homes going to be called cultural appropriation? because thats the real question
Did you pay actual native americans for it and did your money go back into their communities when you bought something from them? Because that’s not appropriation.
The-Lounge 