Moi, non.

The mom is Jamie Lee Curtis???
Seriously. It’s obvious now than I know, but I haven’t seen her or thought about her since A Fish Called Wanda and wow.
She looks older than she did 40 years ago. Surprisingly enough.

So well, mine have potential but they’re way too acidic. The recipe I got had barely more sugar than my pickles onions, that may be the reason. I’ll try the next jar with way more sugar.

Fermented squash. I ferment a lot of produce I get from my garden, even stuff I could eat fresh. But squash is first tier.

Are we talking pickled rhubarb, or fresh?

You know, 4 years ago I thought 100 square meters would be plenty for my garden. Now I’m struggling to fit everything I want in 300 square meters.
And you just told me I can’t remove the rhubarb because there’s something new to try with it. Damn. Thanks.

You said “cheese.” Nothing else matters. I’ll try it very soon. Let’s report back!

Ok tell me more about the rhubarb. Please. I have a huge plant in my garden and never touch it. Because I don’t like rhubarb.
Don’t ask why I planted one, okay?
How is it? What do you eat it with?

Dunno how it works where you are, but I (author) get money from library books. Much less than when a reader buys it (duh), but it pays for nice Christmas presents.

Please! It’s islamphobia and “narcotraffic” (i.e. small-scale pot dealers, who have no future anyway because of racism, classism, prejudice, and Paris-centrism.)

J’habite à 412km de Paris. De chez moi, ça veut dire 25 minutes de voiture pour aller prendre le car (il n’y en a pas entre 11h30 et 16h, et un seul entre 10h et 11h30), 1h20 de car pour aller à la gare, 3h de train (direct, ouf). Mais comme la région sabre les horaires des cars, et qu’au fil des ans la SNCF supprime certaines liaisons quotidiennes, il n’est pas rare que je doive partir de chez moi vers 9h du mat pour arriver gare d’Austerlitz à 20h. 11h pour faire 400 bornes.

(Et il n’y a pas de car qui me conduise à la préfecture. Rien.)

Moi, j’ai choisi d’habiter ici. Mais pas les mômes de mon village. Ni leurs parents, pris dans l’engrenage du manque d’instruction et de l’isolement.
On ne demande pas une desserte TGV dans chaque village. Mais on est en colère.

France : a local bar is L’ACABane dans les bois, “The cabin in the woods”. It should be spelled La cabane dans les bois.

Yup, it’s a way to use old bread instead of letting it go to waste.

Obviously, 2 is really bad. 5 is nice.

That South Korean thing currently on Netflix, I guess. Young man tries everything to save the woman he pines for, who turned into a chicken nugget.

Olympic-sized is 50 meters, but your point stands.

I like the way you think.

It’s a wine vine, I think.

Now you must tell me about the first three seasons of FRIENDS. (Please?)

None at all.
Explanation: I own one pair of jeans, 4 dresses, 3 sweaters and 3 t-shirts, period. I grab whatever’s clean. I buy 1 item of clothing each year from our local thrift shop. Try as I may, I don’t give a damn. I used to, but now I just want to forage in peace. It’s lovely.