Since we’re apparently running spider week, here are mine. I took the pics last year at my parents’ place.
The pics are shot with the magnifying lens and each spider baby is about the size the head of a pin.
Or “never trust a recipe over experience”.
Last year, the blackberries fell victim to a hungry deer that ate all the flowers. This year, they#re getting ripe and are delicious, so I decided to make muffins.
I googled a basic recipe for cream cheese and blueberry muffins and came up with the following:
OK, I exchanged the oil for butter and the buttermilk for Greek yoghurt (which was only a quarter cup), yet still it seemed to be a lot of liquid, but well, that#s what the recipe said. The taste was delicious, but they did what muffins do when they are too wet: they crawled all over the baking tray.
Next time, less yoghurt.
This week’s Wednesday Wings come from avalus, who writes:
Usually I can not take pictures of birds with my cellphone cam due to the lack of good zoom. But last week a friend and I helped this little fellow to escape the architectural nightmare and birdkiller, that is the our chemistry departent building. It is made of lots of glass and with windows in odd places and every so often we find birds that have flown in but could not escape again and died. This one was already pretty exhausted, as I doubt we could have caught it with the box otherwise. It did not put up any resistance.
This story had a happy end, we released the little one a minute or so after taking this picture: We took away the cardboardpane we used to cover the box, the little one looked at us puzzeled, left droppings in the box and flew away.
I do have no idea what kind of bird this is.
I think it’s a juvenile Redstart that got caught in the lab.
As most of you know, I started a new job a few weeks ago. New school, totally new area, totally new colleagues (who generally rock). One of those, a woman about my age who also freshly started on the job, is a Muslim woman who wears a hijab. This particular woman is ethnic German and converted to Islam via her first husband. She studied English and German and after finishing the second part of the training (we instantly bonded over how horrible that was) went looking for a job.
While I am no fan of hijabs, I am much less a fan of policing women’s bodies. Since her Christian German family would probably be very happy if she ditched her headscarf and she was divorced and a single mum before meeting her second husband, we can be very sure that nobody is forcing her in any way to wear her headscarf so it’s none of my personal business. On a professional basis I’m actually quite happy about teachers like her. She is the best role model our Muslim girls can have, showing them that they can be independent women who go to college and have careers outside of the home and Muslims at the same time. And she’s good for our Muslim boys because she can “teach those little Pashas to respect a woman in a hijab” (her words, not mine). She’s also good for our German kids and their parents, for pretty much the same reasons.
For those of you not intimately acquainted with the German school system: almost all schools are public schools, only very few are private. Almost all hiring of teachers happens on a state level via the ministry of education. Now, with women wearing a hijab, there’s apparently an extra rule: the ministry has to treat them like everybody else, but individual schools can reject them, so when she was looking for a job she was twice rejected by different schools, with some of the most outrageous comments.
At one school she got told that they were an open and tolerant school with many kids from many different backgrounds and with many different religions, and she would disturb the peace. At the other school they told her that “somebody like her couldn’t teach German”, so apparently she changed her ethnicity and origin and complete culture along with her religion.
Those remarks and attacks were made in the name of liberalism, in the name of tolerance. Those attacks on Muslim women (I don’t know, can Muslim men teach German even if they pray five times a day?) come from the middle of society. Their headscarves get seen as a sign of Islamism, the whole discourse is such that a woman with a headscarf is automatically seen as suspect, as having an agenda, a meaning that is imposed on her by actual Islamists and Islamophobes alike. It’s in that same vein that the German women’s organisation Terre des Femmes is asking for a ban on headscarves for girls.*
That they’re only getting support from right wing organisations should tell them something, but I guess it won’t. The further stigmatisation of hijabis isn’t going to do anything for their integration into society, yet should they complain they get told that Islamophobia doesn’t exist anyway and that they’re just hiding behind the word to avoid “legitimate criticism”, in this case the further policing of women’s and girls’ bodies.
*The organisation has been criticised in the past for racist tendencies and sex worker exclusive positions, in short, your run off the mill White Feminist organisation. Their Swiss sister organisation split from them over those issues.
One of the good things about my neighbourhood is that I almost never have to pick up stuff at the post office. Only usually I know that I ordered something, but this time, I was quite surprised when my neighbour rang the bell. Surprise quickly turned into delight when I saw who sent it. Marcus, who has previously sent me some very nice fridge magnets I asked for sent me a surprise parcel.
First, upon opening, it smelled like Christmas, because there was some incense. Did you make that yourself as well, Marcus?
Then I unwrapped a badge (I assume) that is meant to cover the tank lid, but I added it to my office door below the Unicorn sign:
Kid #1 is wondering about the hole in the rat’s belly.
Next there were two gorgeous bracelets. Marcus clearly experimented some more with the resin and the seashells.
The first one is all blue and a soft material:
The second one is clear and blue and has gold speckles and I absolutely love it (I love the other one as well, just for the record).
I had to smooth the edges a little, I guess at what was the top while pouring the resin. This one is solid material.
And there was another fridge magnet, but I decided I needed a necklace to go with the bracelets so I glued an eyelet to the back and added a leather cord.
Thank you so much for this wonderful surprise, Marcus. I already wore the first bracelet at work the next day and got many compliments from the kids.
The second bird instalment during the week comes right before the weekend.
Today’s Friday Feathers come from Nightjar who managed to capture barn swallows. The one with the feeding is my absolute favourite. As usually, click for full size.
Today’s meal doesn’t actually look very nice, I have to admit, but it’s a local classic. the region I come from was formed by two factors: industry and agriculture. While many parts of Germany went either way, we always kept our rural character while still becoming important centres for mining and steelwork. the local industry bosses found out that keeping people in small rural areas instead of dense cities like Düsseldorf or Bochum had its advantages, too. They gave “generous” credits to their workers so they could build modest houses, and where now completely dependent on that one employer. The other advantage was that they could get away with lower wages because the people had gardens to do some small scale farming and supplement their income.
This means that most of the local diet is based on potatoes, poor people’s food all over Europe.
This particular dish has many names and probably as many “secret” family recipes as there are families. In my family it’s called “Grumbeere un Kneppcher dorjenanner” (potatoes and dumplings mixed together). Most people call it some version of “married ones”. All these names hint to the fact that the main parts are cooked in a single pot.
Enough history, lets get started.
Peel potatoes, slice them into wedges and bring to boil in a very big pot. This is not pictures due to being dull.
Next, make the batter.
Per person take 100g flour and 1 egg.
Mix together with enough milk to make a not too runny batter, add chives, salt, salt again, it isn’t salty enough, add some more, and nutmeg. Most people, me included will add something to make them lighter. My mum sometimes used sparkling water, i just add a pinch of baking powder.
When the potatoes are 5 minutes from being done, take a big spoon and put it into the boiling water to make it hot and wet, then scoop out batter and put it into the pot, always dipping the spoon after each turn. Best wait a second or so after the first one to see if it holds or if you need to add some more flour.
They will rise to the top quickly, but need a few minutes to boil completely. Best take one out and check.
When they’re done, scoop potatoes and dumplings into a big dish and fry some bacon cubes. People rarely had large servings of meat, but often a slice of bacon to add flavour to their meals. Usually the sizzling bacon is poured over the dumplings and potatoes, but since the kid no longer likes bacon, I serve it at the side.
Use the bacon frying pan to heat some salted milk which is poured over everything. Serve with a green salad and enjoy.
Hello and Welcome to Wednesday Wings, one of the new features replacing the Daily Bird. Today’s gorgeous pics are from David in NZ, who writes the following:
This is Manu, he puts on a show for the crowd, flying from one keeper to another, untethered and outside a cage. He did go for a “holiday” for 3 days last year.
Cheers
David
I know that the birds of prey ion our local zoo tend to go on holidays as well, but generally return because hunting is too much work.
Hello and welcome to Monday Mercurial, a regular feature for all the critters out there. Sadly we won’t be able to keep up the Daily Bird, but we will replace it with three regular features throughout the week for the winged and furred inhabitants of planet Earth.
This is a young magpie that kept begging for food, even though it was already old enough to get over to the bowl of dogfood some campers had forgotten outside.
Dear readers, dear friends
After talking among ourselves, with Rick, and PZ, we, the Affinity writers Charly, voyager and Giliell have decided to continue the blog as a joint endeavour.
Affinity was always about community, about bringing people together, about sharing our lives, our highs and lows, and we decided that we do not want to lose the community, but to continue and keep it alive, in Caine’s memory as well as her spirit.
Of course, we do not want to continue as if nothing had happened. The blog will change. Not only does none of us have the time that Caine could invest thanks to being a professional artist, more importantly, none of us can replace her and we will not even try. Some regular features will remain, others will change or be replaced. TNET will continue as a place to hang out and chit chat. Also, the blog has always lived off the contributions of its readers, be it your pictures or projects and we absolutely want to continue this. Affinity shall remain a place for all.
To me personally, this is home and I would love to share it with all of you.
Dear readers
Sadly we have to tell you that Caine has lost her battle with cancer and died yesterday morning.
Life threw much more at Caine than it had any right to, yet she was still and always a passionate and compassionate fighter for what is right, for human dignity and decency. Many here started our time out on Pharyngula by being whacked over the head by Caine, whose zero tolerance for people being assholes made her a fierce commenter.
But Caine was so much more than that, she was a wonderful artist, great photographer, a loving partner and a good friend, even though most of us never met her in person. She created this space and this wonderful little community.
Dear Rick, we feel your pain and our heartfelt condolences are with you.
Dear Caine, you will be missed and remembered. None of us believed in an afterlife, except for the one in the hearts and the memories of the people we touched. Dear Caine, you live on in many hearts and the tears that are cried for you.