They can't use on us on one another if we don't forget we're precious
For our first official federal Juneteenth, I ate a surprisingly nineteenth-century pie and Hestia mauled one of my best accessories. I think it went all right.
(
spatch: "Hestia says, 'Happy Father's Day, Mama Cat. I caught you a tie.'")
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I make a thing I call samosa pie too, but it's the vegetarian version, the filling doubled except for the potatoes and peas, which retain their original measurements but are accompanied by equivalent amounts of carrots and cauliflower. It cannot really compete with spiced lamb, but it's very tasty.
P.
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It is. And such mighty hunters are worth it.
(I caught her eyeing another of my ties this evening. I put it in my desk drawer.)
It cannot really compete with spiced lamb, but it's very tasty.
It sounds very satisfying! This afternoon I had a sort of multi-root-vegetable borscht (beets, cabbage, carrots, celery, something else I didn't expect to see but which made sense when I thought about winter foods), which made me remember this comment.