
The baboons of Cape Town, South Africa have no qualms about jumping through open car windows, or opening unlocked doors, for that matter.
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We had a small potluck at work for lunch. One of the girls in dispatch surveyed the half picked carcass of a rotisserie chicken and said to me, "How hard is soup?" "Big pot. Water. Chicken stock. Chopped veggies of your choice. Chicken. Egg noodles if you want noodles. Salt and pepper to taste." She seemed amazed it was that simple, then packed up the carcass.
It's not that she can't cook either, I just think it's a case of growing up believing soup comes out of cans, bread comes in a plastic bag and baking involves two eggs, some water and a box of mix. I've been there too, and as a single dweller, quick and easy is often the default course. But homemade, well. It just tastes good, you know?
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It was just going to be one pumpkin pie, but one of the guys at work brought in a bag of fresh persimmons off his tree and not many people wanted them. I don't want to leave them here for the long weekend and they're too nice to throw out, so I'll slice them up and try a recipe for persimmon pie I found on the 'net. After all, with the judicious application of sugar and spices, it'll probably be decent.