Reality check: New Zealanders are leaving New Zealand in record numbers.
Reality check: New Zealanders are leaving New Zealand in record numbers.
Full inspection of all ten hives, plus I used my new battery powered strimmer to clear the long grass from around all the entrances. The bee inspectors are coming tomorrow to check for disease (European foulbrood reported within 3km) but all our colonies look healthy.
What’s funny is that (according to the old testament) when Moses came down off the mountain with the tablets and found everyone worshipping the golden calf, he had a big hissy fit and smashed them. So then after doing quite a bit of murdering he had to go back up the mountain to get a second set. Exodus 32-34
I asked a religious relative how it was ok for Moses to murder people when he had only just be told by God himself “thou shalt not kill”, and she said it was because the don’t kill thing came further down the list than having only the one god.
Ok I’m coming round to your place for dinner. That sounds AMAZING.
Huh, I did not know that. Thanks! I was in a discussion over lunch the other day about chemistry - one woman revealed she was a chemistry teacher, which prompted an anti-science member of the group to scoff, “What relevance does chemistry have in daily life?” I gave cooking as a prime example of chemistry - cakes rise, sauces reduce, roasts brown. And now I can emulsifying to the list!
No. Combine the sauce with pasta, put it in an oven proof dish and grate extra cheese on top. Put in the oven until the topping is browned and bubbling. Then serve. (Also, add a bit of mustard to the cheese sauce, it perks up the flavour.)
Hah! In Scotland we dip pizza in batter and deep fry it. With a deep-fried Mars bar for afters.
https://www.glasgowlive.co.uk/news/glasgow-news/five-glaswegian-chip-shop-delicacies-11462402
“I was layin’ out there for two damn hours before anyone came to check on me! Heat stroke, it turns out. Just as well it wasn’t a stroke stroke, I’d be dead.”
Last year my email address - initialslastname@gmail.com - was added to the group list for a bunch of old ladies in England. First I was advised of my spot on the flower roster for the church, then I got someone’s holiday photos, a reminder that Gerald’s birthday was on the 9th, a lovely eCard congratulating me on my wedding anniversary… on and on.
I tried deleting them but they kept coming, and I worried about all the cool stuff initialslastname was missing out on. I sent an email to the whole group saying stop it & got a heartfelt apology and promises to correct it, but the emails have kept on coming - they all have me in their address books now. If I wasn’t so lazy it would be a good incentive to move fully to my proton address.
That sounds like a protection racket.
But but but it saves users from doing “gymnastics with their eyes”!! Jaysus, what a load of bs.
I hate algorithms, they narrow everything down, desperate to squeeze you into a little box. FB knows how old I am, so while I’m stalking my nieces it shows me ads for incontinence pants, tea towels and comfy shoes. It became a complete turn off with Netflix, it’s part of the reason I cancelled. Don’t miss it.
I remember my poor niece saying, “I can’t believe they let us leave the hospital with her! She’s so tiny and fragile! We don’t know what we’re doing!”
Cheese and marmalade, the sharper both are the better. Mmm.
Last time I was in the mosh pit was a Pogues gig. Might have been hit by Shane MacGowan’s spit. Totally worth it.
Where I’m from it’s called “squeezing the lemon”. Mash that pedal! Ha ha. The best bit is when you catch up with them stopped at the next set of lights.
I my (extensive) cookie experience, double chocolate usually means the same amount of chips, but the dough part is also chocolate flavoured. Hard to tell in this instance, but the “double” cookies may be a shade darker.
Beekeeping. Just don’t start is my advice. Don’t get fascinated by the little buggers and their life cycle, don’t get hooked on honey. Don’t sit by the hive entrance watching the foragers come and go. Don’t spent hours reading books and blogs, watching videos and browsing catalogues. Don’t talk to other beekeepers. Don’t take classes to expand your knowledge, don’t take exams, don’t get into microscopy to further expand your knowledge. It’s too late for me - save yourselves!
And that’s a real dagger tucked into his sash. (I learned a bit about fighting Sikhs from reading Neal Stephenson’s Termination Shock, and watching a load of YouTube videos.)
I hope this sets off a whole chain of people posting pictures of their truly weird hands.
For what it’s worth my own right hand has bad arthritis, every finger is wonky in its own special way, also the thumb. And I’m old, so it’s all veiny and speckled with liver spots. No, you’re not getting a photo.