So I Started A New Book

People with low spoons, someone just recommended this cookbook to me, so I thought I'd pass it on.

I always look at cookbooks for people who have no energy/time to do elaborate meal preparations, and roll my eyes. Like, you want me to stay on my feet for long enough to prepare 15 different ingredients from scratch, and use 5 different pots and pans, when I have chronic fatigue and no dishwasher?

These people seem to get it, though. It's very simple in places. It's basically the cookbook for people who think, 'I'm really bored of those same five low-spoons meals I eat, but I can't think of anything else to cook that won't exhaust me'.

And it's free!

itch.io

The Sad Bastard Cookbook by tRaum Books

by Rachel A. Rosen and Zilla Novikov || Food you can make so you don't die.

hi new chair friends! there are a lot of you !

i am a decorative arts historian so i post a lot of chairs but not all chairs, so if you are interested in more, i recommend perusing my dec arts tag.

here's a random smattering of posts from it:

Eileen Gray's Dragon Chair

an extremely modern looking tea set from the late 19th century

an ask i got about kelpies that sent me down a research rabbit hole about the pictish beast

a 17th century cabinet covered in birds

more Clara Porset chairs

the Trans-Siberian Railroad Fabergé egg (it has a tiny train inside!)

and, of course, the gender fluid teapot

i love researching shit so feel free to ask me things about chair and/or non-chair art!

I am a woman and I view myself as a piece of meat. When someone looks at me in the street, I assume they want to fuck me non stop. But I can’t change the way others see me, I can only change how I see mayself, and what this means to the way I present myself to the world. I am not a piece of meat, and mybe they think my hair looks a little bit weird.

Tengo una compañera de trabajo que tiene dos mood:

1. Existencialismo denso frente a la vida laboral

2. Tarareo de canciones 2010-2014 y sonidos random

Throwback to when I took painkillers and woke up with Photoshop open on my computer to this image I had made

My dad has bees. Today, I went to his house and he showed me all the honey he had gotten from the hives. He took the lid off a 5-gallon bucket full of honey and on top of the honey there were 3 little bees, struggling. They were covered in sticky honey and drowning. I asked him if we could help them and he said he was sure they wouldn't survive. Casualties of honey collection I suppose.

I asked him again if we could at least get them out and kill them quickly, after all he was the one who taught me to put a suffering animal (or bug) out of its misery. He finally conceded and scooped the bees out of the bucket. He put them in an empty Chobani yogurt container and put the plastic container outside.

Because he had disrupted the hive with the earlier honey collection, there were bees flying all over outside.

We put the 3 little bees in the container on a bench and left them to their fate. My dad called me out a little while later to show me what was happening. These three little bees were surrounded by all their sisters (all of the bees are females) and they were cleaning the sticky nearly dead bees, helping them to get all of the honey off of their bodies. We came back a short time later and there was only one little bee left in the container. She was still being tended to by her sisters.

When it was time for me to leave, we checked one last time and all three of the bees had been cleaned off enough to fly away and the container was empty.

Those three little bees lived because they were surrounded by family and friends who would not give up on them, family and friends who refused to let them drown in their own stickiness and resolved to help until the last little bee could be set free.

Bee Sisters. Bee Peers. Bee Teammates.

We could all learn a thing or two from these bees.

Bee kind always.

the moon is a lesbian and she hates terfs

Cats painting studies by Paul Rabaud