#the summer of a thousand pies

[bookishlyvintage]

Stack Challenge: Scavenger Hunt edition x

Scripty Title: Ever Alice

Face on the Cover: The Forest Grimm

Book by Favorite Author: Warrior of the Wild

Still on the TBR: Death of Jane Lawrence

Flowers on the Cover: Keeper of Lost Things

Letters of my First Name in the Title: Summer of a Thousand Pies

[justlookfrightened]

Silver Fox

Filling a prompt from @goddess47: Post-comic: Jack finds some gray hairs when he's shaving.

Jack wasn’t even really paying attention when it happened.

He was in the bathroom, getting ready for the blueberry picking excursion Bitty organized each summer, clad in shorts and an old Samwell T-shirt, old sneakers and the calf-high socks Bitty always laughed at.

Bitty was next to him at the vanity, adding a layer of sunscreen to the moisturizer that was part of his daily facial skin care routine.

“You have to moisturize, Jack,” Bitty was insisting. Again. Like every day when they ended up getting ready in the bathroom at the same time.

“What are you worried about?” Jack said. “Bits, you’re 25.”

“And I make my living in front of the public,” Bitty said. “You can’t tell me your mother didn’t tell you about proper skin care. And I might not have lines yet, but now is the time. I shudder to think of my childhood.”

“Uh-huh,” Jack said, spreading shaving gel over the lower half of his face.

“How much time I spent outside in the summer,” Bitty went on. “Helping MooMaw in the garden, mowing the lawn, hanging out at the lake, even just wandering, staying out of everyone’s way …”

Bitty trailed off.

“And did I ever even wear a hat? No, I did not,” Bitty said, picking up the wide-brimmed straw hat he’d bought just for the occasion from the counter next to him and settling it on his head. “So now I have to be extra careful.”

“See, that’s the difference,” Jack said, pulling the razor up against the grain of his beard. “I make my living on the ice, wearing a helmet, and no one cares what I look like. Maybe you should have thought more about a hockey career, bud.”

“Hush, you,” Bitty said. “We both know that was never in the cards for me.”

Jack hummed noncommittally. Bitty still didn’t realize how good he’d been, but Jack had given up trying to convince him. Three years out of college, Bitty was something of a media personality, with hundreds of thousand of followers on YouTube and more on TikTok, and he’d started doing cooking segments on a local morning show.

“Almost done?” Bitty asked, almost vibrating with excitement. He loved this outing, one that had started with whatever members of the Samwell team were in New England in July the first summer Bitty spent with Jack.

Now there were nearly three dozen people meeting them at the blueberry farm: the Samwell guys, of course, but also several Falconers and their families, plus friends Jack and Bitty (mostly Bitty) had made in Providence.

The little kids would pick a pint or two and head to the playground with their parents; the adults without kids would invariably end up with more than they could use, and Bitty — Bitty would pick gallons on his own, and take any excess from the others. Those berries would turn into jam, into cobblers and crumbles, and into pies. Some would be frozen and kept for winter. Some would become sauce to be served over ice cream. Sometimes it would be served over ice cream that was served over blueberry pie. That was Tater’s favorite dessert.

“Almost,” Jack said, rinsing his face and reaching for a towel.

“Here,” Bitty said, holding out the tube of sunscreen. “I got you a hat too. Wait — you missed a spot.”

Jack leaned close to the mirror to examine the patch of skin in front of his ear that Bitty was pointing to. 

Yeah, there was a little stubble. He reached for the shaving gel again but something silver caught his eye as he turned. What?

“Bits?” Jack said. “Look.”

“Look at what, sweet pea?” Bitty said, barely raising his eyes from his phone, where he was no doubt coordinating last-minute logistics.

“Here,” Jack said, turning that side of his face towards Bitty and pointing. “A gray hair.”

Bitty glanced up and then back down to his phone.

“Yes?” he said. “You just noticed? It’s been there a few weeks at least.”

“No,” Jack said. “I would have noticed.”

“I thought you had,” Bitty said. “I figured you just didn’t care. Like about sunscreen.”

“I don’t,” Jack said, but that wasn’t completely true. “I’m just surprised. I’m only 30.”

Bitty shrugged. 

“Some people start going gray in their 20s,” he said. “When did your folks start going gray?”

“I don’t know about Maman,” Jack mused. “She always colored her hair, as long as I can remember. And Papa still doesn’t have gray hair.”

“Finish shaving,” Bitty said, impatient to get out of the house. 

When Jack picked up the gel again, Bitty said, “And you have to know that your dad colors his hair, too. Haven’t you noticed how sometimes it suddenly looks darker?”

“No?” Jack said, before swiping off the remaining stubble with the razor.

“Take my word for it,” Bitty said. “He does.”

“Do you think I should –”

“Color your hair? Because if you’re worried about one silver strand —”

“I’m not worried,” Jack protested. “But if I got one, I’m going to get more, right?”

“I guess,” Bitty said. “But you wear a helmet to play, right? Your hair doesn’t matter.”

Bitty grinned to show he was kidding.

“Seriously,” he said when Jack grimaced. “I think you’d be very handsome with some graying at the temples. But as long as it’s just one —”

Bitty reached over and Jack felt a quick pinch.

“All gone,” Bitty said. “Now can we go?”

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A Desperate Fool - Part 11

Part 10

Last Time: Eddie accidentally answered Dustin's phone

~~~

To say the past few months have been difficult would be putting it lightly. He wasn’t surprised like the rest of the Party had been when Eddie used a PI to track him down and show up on his and Robin’s doorstep unannounced. However, Steve was surprised when Eddie decided to stick around. It’s impacted the Party in ways he didn’t expect.

Everyone tip-toes around conversations with him in best attempts at not mentioning Eddie casually. Sure, that’s partially Steve’s fault since he’d initially asked them not to, but now that Eddie’s home it’s frankly ridiculous how Nancy will side-eye Jonathan during a story, forcing him to back track and say they had a ‘dinner guest’ over. Or the way Dustin stops mid-sentence and completely changes the subject.

He’d thought the worst part about Eddie sticking around was how it’s clearly split the Party into factions, which– according to horror movies, DnD, and Dustin– is never a good thing. Mike barely talks to Nancy or Dustin, who’ve both been banned from Steve and Robin’s home on Robin’s orders. It’s cordial between Max and Lucas and Dustin, but can be awkward at times. Wedding planning is the only exception to a cordial get together. 

Becky’s barely noticed a change, which he supposes makes sense since she doesn’t know about his history with Eddie. A pang of guilt strikes him every time the thought crosses his mind. He wishes he felt comfortable enough to open up to her about Eddie, about his parents, about his sexuality. Steve knows it isn’t fair to keep his cards so close to his chest, but he can’t help it. So he can’t really expect her to notice when he hasn’t given her all the information.

All of that bullshit was hard enough, but he’s adjusting. He’s made good progress at mending the Party factions, specifically with Dustin and Mike. Everything was fine. It’s just another part of Eddie he could shove away into the corners of his mind, and force everyone else to do the same. It was fine, he was good.

But then his Teddie’s voice rang through the phone like wind chimes on a summer breeze.

“‘Stevie?’”

Steve swipes his hands up his face and into his hair to pull tight at the strands. He’s surprised there aren't any wear marks on the floor he’s been pacing for the last half hour as he waits for Dustin to get here, even though he’d told him not to come. At least Robin isn’t home, neither him nor Dustin could survive her fury if she knew what was going on.

There’s a pounding on the front door that sets his teeth on edge. He’s told that twirp a thousand times he’ll knock the whole door down that way.

“Dustin,” Steve says exhausted and annoyed, “I thought I told you I wanted to be left alone.” Yet Steve leaves the door wide open behind him as he heads back into the living room.

“You hung up on me. You never hang up on me.”

Dustin plops down into his usual spot on the soft blue sofa. He’s holding one of Robin’s favorite blue, white, and green decorative pillows to his chest, his eyes just peeking out over the top like he’s hiding. 

He wants to sit next to the kid and comfort him, but Steve’s thoughts and emotions are a whirlpool he can’t navigate. So he continues to pace and avoids Dustin’s painfully apologetic glance. “I just need some space ok?”

“Steve, I know we all agreed a long time ago, but I really think you need to talk to someone about Eddie.”

Steve cringes at the name. It’s been so long since he’s heard someone say it out loud that his ears are ringing. “I do talk about it– him– what happened. I do talk about it, just not with you.”

Dustin flinches like he’s been slapped, but doesn’t retaliate, much to Steve’s relief. He can’t help lashing out. His hackles are up and Dustin knows it. “I don’t think Max is–”

“What’s wrong with talking to Max?”

The kid scoffs, exasperation apparent in his squinted eyes, and argues “it’s not like she’s going to give you an unbiased opinion. Max doesn’t like Becky, never has and probably never will. At least Robin and I finally gave her a chance after you proposed. So explain to me how talking to Max is better than literally anyone else?” He slams the pillow down next to him and the movement sets Steve off.

“Max,” Steve snaps, “is the only person who’s willing to hear me out and actually listen to what I’m saying, even if she doesn’t agree. She’s the only person who doesn’t act like they know what’s better for me than I do. I can talk about the bad and the good times with Ted– Eddie–  without scoffs and eye-rolling, or someone telling me I’m wearing ‘rose-colored glasses’. So don’t bullshit me about Max not liking Becky. You’re just jealous I’d rather talk to her instead of you.”

Fuck. 

Steve freezes in place and tugs at his hair again. He can’t make himself lift his gaze from the floor, stuck in a fog of panic. This entire situation is fucked, but he can’t bring himself to take it back. Maybe he could’ve worded it better. Maybe he can still apologize before he fucks up another good thing in his life. Before he pushes another loved one away because he’s too scared to have a hard conversation.

“You shouldn’t pull your hair.” Dustin says it by rote. His broken voice is enough to force Steve out of his daze. He sits next to him and wraps Dustin tight against his chest.

Dustin sniffles. “Are you mad he’s living with me? Because I’ll kick him out if you’re–”

“No,” Steve interrupts. “No I’m glad he’s back in your life, I know how important he is to you and I’m glad you’re getting that back. He’s my ex, but he’s still everyone’s family, and for that I’m happy he’s home. The Party deserves to have him around.”

“Eddie’s a friend, but you’re my big brother. I love you, and you’re my family, no matter what.”

Steve’s eyes mist over. He kisses the top of Dustin’s curly head, and holds him out at arms length to look him in the eye. “I love you too. And I’m sorry I snapped at you, that was super shitty.”

The kid smiles at him. It’s a small thing, but it’s genuine.

“And I am glad you’re talking to Max,” Dustin adds on. “But if you talk about it with more people, maybe it would help? Like, different perspectives and stuff.”

“I know. I just– I’m not sure I know how to do that with other people. It’s been a while since I’ve tried.”

“Well, why do you want to talk to him?” Steve should’ve known the kid couldn’t help but ask, especially with how their phone call ended. Months ago, when he’d told Max to get in contact with Eddie, Steve just thought he wanted closure.

After hearing his name whispered soft and broken from Eddie’s lips, a deep-seated craving rooted within him burst out as he pleaded with Dustin to give the phone back. He’d been drowning for over a year and Eddie’s voice was like a forced breath of fresh air into his lungs, a crushing pressure on his chest that leaves bruises and broken bones but brings life. 

Steve felt alive. 

That was the moment the panic set in. Anxiety, self-loathing, and shame crested higher and higher until– he was back in their home, screams ripped from his throat as he swung Eddie’s guitar into the wall over and over and over until their bedroom walls were littered with holes, scraps of wood scattered across the floor, slivered into Steve’s bare feet.

Except now it’s not despair or anger that haunts his dreams– that’d be too easy. The dreams that linger into the light of day are always soft and mundane. They’re dreams of him tucked into Eddie’s side as they watch TV, or Eddie smiling at him across the kitchen while they cook. Moments Steve knows he can never have again.

Unless. Maybe.

Dustin might not be able to read his mind like Robin, but Steve’s never been able to mask his emotions well when they bubble to the surface. “Steve, no, he’s not–.”

“But he’s trying, right? Everyone seems happy he’s home, like he’s getting better.”

“Better doesn’t mean he’s good enough for you, Steve! Sure, yeah, he’s genuinely working on himself and he really is changing, but that doesn’t undo what he did to you. None of us have forgotten that, and I don’t want you to either.”

He pulls his hands away from Dustin’s shoulders to wipe his sleeve across his face and sure enough, it comes back wet. 

“Fuck,” Steve chuckles, tone dark and self-deprecating, “didn’t know I could still do that.” Sniffling into his sleeve, he lets out a ragged laugh, long and heavy until it morphs into an angry, choked off howl of frustration.

Dustin’s quick to pull Steve into him, arms wrapped around any inch of him he can reach while Steve heaves deep, uneven breaths. Without someone’s eyes on him, it’s easier to open the floodgates, but he’s held back the truth for so long that the whole dam bursts. 

“Dustin, I miss him so fucking much. That’s why I don’t know how to talk about this with anyone. No one wants to hear how I still wear his old guitar pick necklace to bed every night, or how no one’s ever made me laugh harder than he has. I never thought I’d see him again, but now that he’s home, there’s nothing I want more in this world than to hold his hand, to hear him say my name again or see him smile. I want to be with her– I know she loves me. But it’s not the same. I miss him and I hate myself for it. I hate how much I’m still in love with him.” 

Steve’s not sure how long he hides with his face pressed into Dustin’s shoulder, but by the time he shifts away, the sky is painted in cotton candy pinks and blues as the sun slips below the skyline. Worried he’ll find pity carved into Dustin’s features, he avoids his gaze altogether as he stands to move. 

The sound of padded footsteps follow him across the living room, down the hall, and into the galley kitchen just wide enough for two. Steve pours two glasses of water and sets it down next to the dishwasher, directly across from the oven where he sets his own. They hop up in unison, kicking their feet so they end up between the other’s knees on the outswing. A calm familiarity washes over him, like instead of dreading Dustin’s response, they’re just waiting for the next batch of cookies.

“He’s writing a new album,” Dustin says softly, even if it echoes in the hollow of Steve’s chest. “On the acoustic.”

Steve’s neck cracks with how fast he turns to look at Dustin, who smirks lovingly at the shock that must be written in his eyes. “Mike’s acoustic? He pulled it out of storage?”��

Dustin nods, eyes still shining wet in the light with his eyebrows raised like he can’t quite believe it either. “I’m trying to convince Mike to come over so he can see for himself.” He clears his throat and wipes his eyes before saying, “sometimes I can hear what he’s working on and– it’s different. Softer.”

Steve smiles as Dustin tells him everything and anything he can about Eddie since he’s been home. Finally, he’s found another person he doesn’t have to pretend with, someone who won’t tip-toe around the Eddie-sized elephant in the room that Steve constantly wants to ask about. 

An hour later as he walks Dustin out, one foot on the welcome mat, a last confession pours from his chest. “He’s not the only one that fucked up. I– I did too. Made mistakes.”

“Well,” Dustin says, plain as day, so normal and even-toned that Steve feels his lungs sigh in relief, “Max and I are here to talk about that too, whenever you’re ready.”

Steve goes to bed early that night. He crawls under the covers and reaches all the way to the back corner of his nightstand drawer where his fingers clutch the small, plastic triangle. The worn leather string slips over his neck easily. It sits lighter on his chest than normal. 

There’s still a roiling sensation in his gut, but instead of burying his face in his pillow he reaches out for his phone, pulling it under the covers with him. His fingers move without his permission, automatic and self-indulgent. The light is bright against his eyes as he stares back at the string of numbers he wishes he didn’t have memorized. He contemplates long enough for the screen to dim, then eventually turn black. Taking it as a sign, Steve rolls over and is plagued with soft, mundane dreams.

~~~

Part 12

Tag List!!!

@sadisticaltarts @5ammi90 @blacklegsanji21 @jaytriesstrangerthings @thewickedkat

@stripey82 @a-lovely-craziness

[r0ckst4r-c0re]

Leo/need headcanons!

Ichika

• has a secret hatsune miku account where she theorizes and makes vocaloid music. (it has thousands of followers)

• saki gave her a sticker for her guitar when she was a little. she never put it on there and when saki asked about it she said that it blew away from her hands in a panic. saki still believes it till this day.

• she has accidentally broken a string on her guitar as a kid and ran sobbing to her dad about it.

Shiho

• shizuku thought that a gift (that was for the band) was for her. shiho had to pretend it was hers and gave it to her. shizuku still has it on her nightstand and it makes shiho feel bad.

• saki gave shiho a haircut once. she surprisingly did okay for a little girl but shiho had to get it fixed anyway.

• favorite season is autumn and always (secretly) puts up a few decorations.

Honami

• has called kanade her sister once.

• one time she bought so many apple pies that she passed them out to her entire class.

• has a habit of saying sorry for things that she never did. (shes just very polite gang)

Saki

• forced all the girls to have matching profiles.

• broke tsukasas favorite cup and starting sobbing. (tsukasa was more worried about her)

• has an obsession with going swimming and must go every summer.

[teddi-bearly]

Rating Klinger Outfits On Flamboyance Because I’m Bored: Part 2

Same thing applies from part one, this is literally an excuse for me to give my opinions on Klinger’s wonderful outfits

Yeah

SERVING SERVING

Bow to the queen

The coat? Lovely

The mink? Incredible

The cigarette holder? Classy

Hotel? Trivago

But seriously I adore this look and it’s no wonder he got a reporter to take his picture in this outfit it’s so great

Definitely a bit flamboyant, but not insane

7/10 would turn heads

The sweetest grandma you’ve ever seen

Such a cute dress for cooking

I love the blue so much, and the flower apron really sets off this look

Honestly this outfit does remind me of my wonderful grandma and she makes great pies and is the sweetest person you’ve ever met

But? Hardly flamboyant, the hat is the craziest part and it’s just a chef’s hat

2/10 just for the hat

I’m upset I couldn’t find a better picture of this outfit

He wears it multiple times, and it’s such a classic

So practical when the wounded are coming in

And the cloak!! The cloak!!

Also shoutout to Trapper in this screencap he’s really go through it

5/10 partially because it’s a nurse outfit (yes I know nurses actually dressed like that, but Klinger is not a nurse AND the nurses wear army outfits so therefore it is a bit extra in these circumstances) and partially because of the cloaks. Cloaks are always flamboyant and they are wonderful

This dress was in part 1 but it’s a different outfit

I love this dress I want this dress

And the hat and earrings really pull it all together

This one SCREAMS summer picnic

Pretty simple though, so I give it a solid 3/10

EARHART WHO??

Pretty practical, and honestly looks comfortable

The scarf is so so cute

And the aviator’s hat is perfect given this particular escape attempt

You can’t see it in this pic, but he’s got on pink fuzzy slippers which gives it points

I respect the want to be comfortable

My feet would die if I wore heels in that mud 24/7 so he’s allowed to rock the slippers

6/10

Okay…hear me out

I’m not a fan of this one

It looks okay!! There’s just something about all the different random bits of color that kinda throws me off

I adore the ruffles though

Hello Father Mulcahy!

Gets a 5/10

green polka dot dress my beloved

I love this one

It SCREAMS cool rich single aunt

Klinger looks like he’s going to hand me a 50 with a wink and say “don’t tell your mother”

It’s beautiful

8/10

I know this picture doesn’t show it much but he’s wearing a red plaid skirt

It reminds me of a kilt

The scarf adds a delightful pop of blue

If I’ve said it once I’ve said it a thousand times, I LOVE KLINGER IN RED

Honestly? Kinda gives me Heather Chandler vibes

6/10

I couldn’t find a colored version, but the outfit is black and white anyway

THE VEIL! THE PEARLS!!!

He looks like a rich widow who’s going to the funeral of his late husband that died under mysterious circumstances

He’s inheriting the mansion and the fortune and he DESERVES IT

7/10 it’s sleek and fashionable and WONDERFUL

I COULDNT FIND A FULL PIC OF THIS OUTFIT AND IM SO UPSET

I LOVE THIS OUTFIT I LOVE IT

LOOK AT HIM HES SO PRETTY HES SO GENDER

I love the big flower!! It’s so !!

And the earrings YES

And the dress? THE DRESS??

I want it but I don’t think I could ever pull it off as well as he does

AND THOSE BIG BEAUTIFUL BROWN EYES

what a gorgeous fella

he’s so gender he’s SO GENDER

10/10 because of that giant flower it’s beautiful

All pictures are from Pinterest

[roses-dreams-andthorns]

I played a date with death once over the weekend and I'm so normal about it (lie)

Can you umm write mc showing grim human sweets? Maybe they go to a cafe or something but like imagine one of them having crumbs or something on their face and the other one gets it for them-

- 🍰 anon

omg that would be so cute, I can imagine grimmy with cake crumbs on his face tbh FINALLY GETTING TO POSTING THESE LMAO

Sweet Tooth It wasn't exactly unexpected that Casper didn't know much about human foods, besides basic things like pasta, hamburgers or eggs, and he hasn't been that curious about anything else outside of that. That is, until... he happened to come across an ad for a sweets shop. Now here he is, holding the phone to your face, showing said ad, filled with appetizing cakes and pies of all kinds. "Mortal, I wish to go here. It looks appetizing." He demands, pushing the phone closer to your face. Worst part? He has his phone on light mode. "The bake shop...?" You question. You hadn't exactly sparked Casper as the type to have a thing for sweet things like candy, chocolate and cakes, but he is practically begging you to take him there. "Is that what its called? If so, then yes, I do want to go to the bake shop." He finally pulls his bright phone away from your face. You may need glasses after having that in your face... "Well, sure, why not. It's just down the street anyways..." Your shoulders go up in a shrug, "Go get ready, we'll walk there." Surprisingly to you, he dashes into your shared bedroom, it doesn't take him long before he's out of the clothes he was just in, and back into a simple t-shirt and sweatpants. "I'm ready. Can we go now, mortal? I don't want to wait any longer." His arms cross each other as he stands there impatiently. You stand there stunned for a moment, before nodding. "Yeah, yeah... let's uh... go." You dragged him out the door, he gladly followed. It was a rather hot day today, unfortunately, but luckily not too hot that the two of you are melting into puddles like snowmen in summer. The two of you walk down the street, passing by many people on the way. Upon reaching the bake shop, Casper is staring into those windows for the first time like a little kid, eyeing all the sweets displayed inside, his eyes sure had an excited sparkle to them, depending on what he wants, you may just walk out of here broke as hell and with a thousand cakes, pies and pastries... Brace the wallet, for war is coming. "...It looks very..." He began, but you already knew what the rest would be. "Appetizing?" You finish his sentence. "Exactly! See, you get me." He said proudly, his hands on his hips "Here, take my debit card. Don't go too crazy, otherwise we'll be kicked out of the apartment for unpaid rent." You sigh, handing him your card reluctantly. You really hoped he wouldn't walk out of there with you bank account empty. Heeding your advice, he runs inside without another word. Oh god. Maybe this was a bad idea....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hi! I'm officially back!! I'm so sorry I haven't posted anything for a while! I'm still alive, please don't worry! My summer ewnded up being different than I believed it to be so everything was pretty delayed. here's your request at last <33 more will be posted soon and thats a PROMISE

[bakingtherapy]

Robby's Baking Therapy #7 Strawberry Rhubarb Pie

Hello everybirdie. So today we are going to be making one of my all-time favorite pies. I can only make this pie in the late spring, or earlier summer. But Oh my gosh. Is it SO good!  Today we are going to be following Preppy Kitchen’s Strawberry Rhubarb Pie. And also my go-to pie crust recipe from Betty Crocker. 

So first before even preheating the oven, we are going to make the pie crust. And um… speaking from experience. Even if you have done this recipe thousands of times, there are going to be times when it just doesn’t turn out well. Well, let me rephrase that. Just like anything else, you have to be careful about the humidity and the weather. Because it can change the consistency of your dessert. Like if you don’t put enough water into the pie crust, you will be fighting a crumby (but tasty) pie crust. 

If you prefer store-bought pie crust then feel free to skip this part. 

Both recipes will be down below. With the instructions and the measurements. In order to make the pie crust, you are going to need a large mixing bowl. The ingredients you will need:

Flour

Salt 

Shortening 

And ICE COLD water

You are going to mix together your flour and salt. 

Using a pastry blender or two forks you are going to cut in the shortening until you see a consistency that matches that of small peas. 

Sprinkle the dough with your ice-cold water. 1 tablespoon at a time. Toss it with a fork until all of the flour is moistened. If it is a warm or humid day in your kitchen, you may need a little bit more water than is recommended. So my suggestion to you is to wait for a “normal” weather day and follow the recipe. After a few times making this recipe, you will know the feeling of how the pie crust should be. 

Gather the pastry into a ball. Divide it in half and shape it into 2 rounds on lightly floured surfaces. Wrap flatted rounds in plastic wrap and the refrigerator says to put it in the fridge for 45 minutes. However, what my mom and I do is put it in the freezer for about 15 minutes or until we are done making the pie mixture. 

Now onto the pie filling. The link to the recipe will also be down below. Fill free to check it out. 

You will need:

Strawberries

Rhubarb

Sugar

Cornstarch

Butter

Salt 

Vanilla

Egg yolk (i use the ice cold water from the pie crust and it works perfectly fine)

(optional) coarse sugar for sprinkling on top

Once you get all of your ingredients together, you are going to preheat your oven to 400℉.

This is the step that ALWAYS takes the longest for me. Processing fruits and veggies take so much longer for me. But we are going to wash and cut the strawberries. And then we are going to cut the rhubarb into pieces less than ½ inch. Place both of them into a large bowl. 

Add the sugar, cornstarch, and salt to your fruit. Then mix them to combine, and set it aside. 

While the pie filling is set. We are going to try and work with the pie crust. And hopefully not cry. 

I went into this pie knowing that I was making two pies. ahhh! That is where I messed up. I forgot that I was doubling the recipe. Meaning that I needed to add about 12-16 tablespoons of the water. I was only following the recipe and put in 7-8 tablespoons. Needless to say, it was a PAIN to try and work with. 

Even with saying this, pies are so much fun. And baking is a learning curve. No person is going to make things perfect every time. Even the best baker’s out there have times when they fail. Failing (while not getting hurt) is needed in order to be a better person. 

Sorry, back to the pie crust. You are going to roll your pie crust out and put it into your pie tin. And make sure that you keep your surface and pie crust floured because it is really sad when you think you have the perfect crust and go to roll it up on your rolling pin, and it is not moving. 

Once you placed your bottom crust you are going to evenly distribute your pie filling. 

The top part is where a pie maker can be creative. You can do it in many different ways. 

Put it on top and put small slits in it. 

Try your hand at a pretty lattice. 

Or you can grab yourself a cookie cutter and make a sort of design with it. 

Have fun and create your own design. 

I was so devastated when I was working on my pie crust. I was frustrated and kept looking at the time. Time is sometimes my worst enemy. I will go into the kitchen at about 2 or 3 pm and not come out until 6 or 7 pm. 

But I think it turned out really well. And we had this pie two days in a row and it was really interesting to see how it set when it cooled. 

I hope that you like this recipe. Feel free to check out the description down below. See you in the next recipe. Thank you.

Show the original author some 💖💖💖 Preppy Kitchen

Show the original pie crust, author, some  💖💖💖 Betty Crocker

Here is a printable version of this recipe: on the blog

Printable version of this pie crust recipe: on the blog

Please help me get a phone: by supporting me on Kofi / Patreon 

[reyolivier]

La petite île Duiker - également connue sous le nom de «Seal Island» pour sa grande population d'otaries à fourrure du Cap - se trouve juste au large de la côte sud-africaine à Hout Bay, près du Cap. Il mesure seulement 253 pieds sur 312 pieds (77 mètres sur 95 mètres) et est un sanctuaire d'oiseaux de mer en plus d'abriter des milliers d'otaries à fourrure du Cap. . Tiny Duiker Island - also known as 'Seal Island' for its large population of Cape fur seals - lies just off the South African coast at Hout Bay, near Cape Town. It measures just 253 feet by 312 feet (77 meters by 95 meters) and is a seabird sanctuary as well as being home to thousands of Cape fur seals. . #southafrica #duikerisland #houtbay #southafrica🇿🇦 #afriquedusud #afrique #africa #capetown #capetownsouthafrica #travel #travelphotography #travelgram #travelblogger #travels #voyage #voyageursdumonde #national_geography #nature #naturephotography #naturerey #naturelovers #animales #animallovers #animal #otari #lion #summer #summervibes #goodvibes #happy (à Hout Bay, Western Cape, South Africa) https://www.instagram.com/p/Co9djrYsk0s/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[robynpsd]

Sketching a new Persona I got - I've been trying to collect this one for months!

She doesn't have a name yet, so I'll just call her XX for now. Her backstory:

XX grew up in a small village and quiet village. Her mother left when she was quite young—"Where's your ambition? How are you going to sit and rot in this town? Don't you want to do something with your life?!". But her father liked it here, in the quiet wilderness of Timefall Valley. So it seemed he would have to like it alone. He took work as the town photographer, an art he'd loved ever since he was a child himself. Intimate and serene moments were captured beautifully to be re-experienced at a glance. There was almost something magical about it, how easily a flat colored page could transport you into another time. Another place. A sentiment, even. His skill was indisputable. But, in a small town of a few thousand citizens, they only served to warm the walls of the local tourist shop—which, in these days, did not get any visitors at all. (Except for Aunt Jo). (We love Aunt Jo and her pot pies). This very fact had XX restless. Her father was a good man, and a talented man, and it made no sense to her whatsoever that all his work would sit here unseen—all while lifeless images are distributed to millions through global media and magazines. "Dad, just listen, please. Submit your work to the papers. If those crummy, half-baked photos can make it in, just imagine how they would react to yours!" Her father stood his ground to the day he died. He had passed in his sleep, which was surprising as he was still rather young. Without the resources to conduct a proper examination, the cause would remain unknown. XX barely left the house that entire summer, with only Aunt Jo coming around to keep her alive. "You're no good mopin' about here," she would say. "Pick up a hobby. Here." XX, buried under her blanket, felt a hard object thump against her arm before sloping itself onto the bed. She unborrowed herself to take a peek. Her father's camera. She stared at it for a long while. She didn't even know that Jo had left. Finally, as the sun began to set, she put on her father's jacket and left, camera in hand.

This is the story of a girl who learned early on that celebrity, greatness, and mass validation was necessary to lead a successful life. The story of a girl who felt ashamed and sad for her father, despite him being very happy himself. She would continue to pursue photography in his name, experiencing highs and lows of her career until the mass-adoption of videography, causing her trade to become criticized as "culturally irrelevant". Only then, with nothing left to gain, did she finally find it; her photography became a vessel of connection with the world. To sit quietly, silent in oneself. Unmoving. Perceiving. Experiencing everything in that moment—breath held—and only after the capture does the world begin to move again. The way her father must have felt, and loved, and lived. And this very thing brought her more fulfillment than anything the industry could ever give her.

[projectdivapolls]

Round 2 results are in!

Absolunote vs ACUTE

Ageage Again vs Akatsuki Arrival

Amatsu Kitsune vs Arifureta Sekai Seifuku

Betty the Liar vs Black★Rock Shooter

Blackjack vs Break It, Break It!

Cantarella vs Cantarella ~ Grace Edition ~

Cendrillon vs Close and Open, Demons and The Dead

Colorful×Melody vs Colorful×Sexy

Dear vs Deep Sea City Underground

Deep Sea Girl vs Disruptive Diva (Hard/Extreme)

Doubleganger vs Dream-Eating Monochrome Baku

Electric Angel vs Envy Cat Walk

Erase or Zero vs Finder (DSLR remix re:edit)

Freely Tomorrow vs Gaikotsu Gakudan to Riria

Ghost Rule vs Glasses

God-Tier Tune vs Grumpy Waltz

Hello, Worker vs ✽Hello, Planet.

HIBANA vs Hm? Ah, Yes.

I'll Miku-Miku You♪ (For Reals) vs I'm Your Diva (Tie) - Tiebreaker results: - I'll Miku-Miku You♪ (For Reals)

Ievan Polkka vs Interviewer

Iroha Uta vs Jaded/The Rebel

Just Be Friends vs Kagerou Daze

Kimi no Taion vs Knife

Kokoro vs Last Night, Good Night

LOL - lots of laugh - vs Look This Way, Baby

Love-Hate vs Lover's Suicide Oblivion

Luka Luka★Night Fever vs Magnet

maigo life vs Meiteki Cybernetics

Melancholic vs Melt

Meteor vs Monochrome∞Blue Sky

Negaposi✽Continues vs Nekomimi Archive

Nice to Meet You, Mr. Earthling vs No Logic

Nostalogic vs ODDS&ENDS

on the rocks vs One-Sided Love Samba (Hard/Extreme)

Out of Eden vs Palette

Paradichlorobenzene vs Piano×Forte×Scandal

Pinky Swear vs Po Pi Po

Puzzle vs Remote Controller

Rin-chan Now! vs ROKI

Rolling Girl vs Roshin Yukai

Sadistic.Music∞Factory vs Sakura no Ame

Sayounara Goodbye (Hard/Extreme) vs Secret Police

Senbonzakura vs Snowman

Soiyassa!! vs Solitude's End

Soundless Voice vs SPiCa -39's Giving Day Edition-

Stardust Utopia vs StargazeR

Stay With Me vs Summer Idol

Sweet Devil vs Systematic Love

Tengaku vs Teo

The Disappearance of Hatsune Miku vs The Intense Voice of Hatsune Miku

The MMORPG Addict's Anthem vs The Snow White Princess is...

The World is Mine vs This is The Happiness and Peace of Mind Committee

Thousand Year Solo (DIVA Edit) vs Time Machine

Tokyo Teddy Bear vs Travel to The Other Side of The Moon

Two Breaths Walking vs Two-Sided Lovers

Updating My Love List? vs VOiCE -DIVA MIX-

Weekender Girl vs When The First Love Ends

Wintry Winds vs World's End Dancehall -F Edition-

World's End Umbrella vs Yumeyume

1/6 -out of the gravity- vs 1925

39 Music! vs from Y to Y

Fire◎Flower vs Kagamine Hachi Hachi Flower Fight

2D Dream Fever vs Unhappy Refrain

Ashes to Ashes vs Step Forward

All songs highlighted in blue will move on to round three! It's been very interesting to see what songs have been winning. I look forward to seeing the results of the next round. Have fun and happy voting! 🩵

[saki-013]

Why I Love Taylor Swift !!

Quick FYI, Taylor Swift is a singer ! She was born on 1989, amd that's one of her most famous albums! Her most viral and most popular song is "Cruel Summer", from her album, Lover. Taylor Swift writes her own songs, Unlike other singers, like Katy Perry. She also has thousands of albums released, millions of songs, with billions of views! Taylor Swift is a very experienced guitarist, and is very exceptional when playing the Piano, especially in her song "Enchanted".! With that being said, I have a feeling she's a genius, and a top-tier artist!! I personally love her new album, "The Tortured Poet's Department". It's quite an intersting album, with very unique songs. Taylor Swift is my role model, she's very creative when it comes to song writing. My whole main playlist lives for her and her music! But.. maybe 1.. or 2.. or 3 are KPop songs! Taylor Swift should really get5 more credit than what she has currently. Maybe she could learn hor to play the flute if she wanted to! She's a living legend. I really would'nt mind if she were to be someone close to me, my life would at least be full of passion, and inspiration! I woulod do anything to be there with her or to at least take a picture of her Live.. she's just so creative in what she does, and I lov e her for that. Taylor Swift is really my favorite artist of all time, she should really write some songs about missing your childhood, I know she can! I hope one day, I'll be as successful as her, not only because I want to be famous, but I want to write scripts, songs poems, and books.. maybe even an act, or a pamphlet. All of my dreams became my dreams because I wanted to be an amazing writer, but I also want to excel in my class, so I'll focus on that for now. Taylor is really my best inspiration to be who I want to be. -School doesn't teach you how to do taxes, how to be successful in life, how to deal with a rejection or how to choose a job.. but YEAHH... we can totally use the quadratic formula and the 100 digits of pi in life!

[spacetimewithstuartgary]

Missing link found in gamma emission phenomena from thunderclouds

Groundbreaking Discoveries in Gamma-Ray Emissions from Thunderstorms

In the recent edition of Nature, groundbreaking results about the gamma-ray emissions produced during thunderstorms are presented. Overall, these findings reveal that gamma-ray emission from thunderclouds is much more complex, diverse, and dynamic than previously thought. Understanding these phenomena is crucial to uncovering the secrets of lightning.

Flickering Gamma-Ray Flashes: A New Discovery

Entitled “Flickering Gamma-Ray Flashes, the Missing Link between Gamma Glows and TGFs,” the paper by Østgaard et al. [2024] reports unique observations of a new phenomenon called Flickering Gamma-Ray Flashes (FGFs).

During thunderclouds, two different hard radiation phenomena have so far been known to originate: Terrestrial Gamma-ray Flashes (TGFs) and gamma-ray glows. This third phenomenon, observed and named FGFs by Østgaard et al. [2024] resembles the other two, while at the same time revealing certain characteristics separating FGFs from the others. Most noteworthy may be that FGFs are pulses of gamma-rays not associated with any detectable optical or radio signals.

The Missing Link Found?

«We think that FGFs could be the missing link between TGFs and gamma-ray glows, whose absence has been puzzling the atmospheric electricity community for two decades», says lead author and Professor Nikolai Østgaard at the University of Bergen.

Dynamic Gamma-Ray Emissions in Tropical Thunderclouds

In another study presented in this edition of Nature, Marisaldi et al. [2024] focus on the phenomenon referenced above and known as gamma-ray glows. The paper, entitled «Highly dynamic gamma-ray emissions are common in tropical thunderclouds», shows that contrary to what has been believed until now, tropical thunderclouds over ocean and coastal regions commonly emit gamma rays for hours over areas up to a few thousand square kilometers.

A New Understanding of Gamma-Ray Glows

«The dynamics of gamma-glowing thunderclouds starkly contradicts the former quasi-stationary picture of glows, and resembles that of a huge gamma-glowing boiling pot both in pattern and behavior», says Professor Martino Marisaldi at the University of Bergen.

The ALOFT Campaign

The groundbreaking results presented by Østgaard et al. [2024] and Marisaldi et al. [2024] are based on observations from the ALOFT (Airborne Lightning Observatory for FEGS and TGFs) campaign.

ALOFT, a collaboration between NASA and the University of Bergen, involved flying the NASA ER-2 aircraft from the MacDill Air Force Base, Florida, over tropical thunderstorms around the Gulf of Mexico, Central America, and the Caribbean in the summer of 2023. The payload included lightning detectors, gamma-ray scintillators, and a mix of passive and/ or active microwave sensors. A total of 10 flights were conducted above thunderclouds around Mexico, El Salvador, Nicaragua, and Florida.

The ALOFT campaign was financed by the Research Council of Norway and led by Professor Nikolai Østgaard and Professor Martino Marisaldi from the University of Bergen, Timothy Lang (Marshall Space Flight Center, NASA), and Franzeska Becker (ER-2 Mission Management).

The instrumentation on Board ER-2 during the ALOFT campaign included:

Gamma-ray detectors UIB-BGO (PI: Nikolai Østgaard, UiB) and iStorm (PI: Eric Grove, NRL)

An optical instrument named FEGS (PI: Mason Quick, Marshall Space Flight Center, NASA)

Two electric field sensors known as EFCM (PI: Hugh Christian, University of Alabama, Huntsville) and LIP (PI: Christopher Schultz, Marshall Space Flight Center, NASA)

Four cloud characterization instruments: AMPR (PI: Timothy Lang, Marshall Flight Center, NASA), CRS and EXRAD (PI: Gerry Heymsfield, Goddard Space Flight Center, NASA), and CoSSIR (PI: Rachael Kroodsma, Goddard Space Flight Center, NASA)

The flight campaign was coordinated with ground-based radio observations managed by a large network of collaborators.

IMAGE: An illustration of NASAs research plane ER-2 flying over thunderstorms. Credit Artistic view of ALOFT observations by University of Bergen / Mount Visual,

[mamawasatesttube]

okay i’m working on med school apps and im gonna have to talk about my thesis but now i cannot think about it without the intense rage of a thousand burning suns bc cryotome so. feel free to ignore this ask but i figured you’d get it and anyone else who would has heard this story before. but basically last year this girl who was hired by the lab for her “expertise with the cryotome” was supposed to teach me to use it because i needed to slice the Very Important Mouse Brains for staining for my thesis research. and it’s really really important that we do it correctly so there’s no trial and error to finding the angle etc. because the end process of the imaging is basically reconstructing the whole brain to create an activation map and A Lot of resources were used to do this experiment and all that jazz. but basically i was on a really tight timeline and she just kept fucking up to the point where i, a person who had NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE, could tell she was missing steps. and basically she destroyed all of the brains i was supposed to use AND she was so callous about it while we were trying to talk to our PI about potential solutions and she literally said “i could come in to help you (FIX THIS PROBLEM I CREATED) … but i don’t want to” and anyway i don’t work there anymore but i heard this summer that she literally neglected to take care of the new mouse colony for a new wave of experiments and instead of firing her they just moved her to admin in human research??? im not one to pray on the downfall of others but i need her to get fired so bad. she didn’t care about her job even one bit and it makes me So Insane. she also got so mad when i wouldn’t try her cocktail at the christmas party (i don’t drink alcohol) and it was so uncomfy. in front of our BOSS. anyway there was more cryostat drama with a phd candidate later too but im calm now so here’s my roommate and her cat if you read this far — sorry about that

YOU ARE SO FUCKING REAL holy shit i would be so mad!!!!! what the hell!!!!! im kind of speechless i cant believe no one fired her after she destroyed the first one. oh my GOD. woe and frostbitten fingers upon her!!!!!!!! jesus. my cryotome woes are entirely related to the fact that i had so many mouse kidneys to slice that i spent like... weeks doing Nothing but using the cryotome every time i came in to work. which was agonizing but nowhere near this level of infuriating oh my god.... you are so strong for not committing a murder.

also that pic is sooo cute. he stand like a people!!!! kity!!!!

[mariacallous]

Meduza's The Beet: Dispatch from Podlaskie

Hello, and welcome back to The Beet!

Eilish Hart here, the editor of this weekly newsletter from Meduza that brings you long-form journalism from across Central and Eastern Europe, the Caucasus, and Central Asia. If this email was forwarded to you, sign up here to join our mailing list. And be sure to check out last week’s feature about Nagorno-Karabakh’s tragic final act if you haven’t already. 

As you may know, Poland is set to hold a doubleheader this weekend. The ruling Law and Justice party (PiS) has called a controversial four-question referendum for the same day as the October 15 parliamentary vote. Voters will be asked if they support dismantling border defenses and accepting “thousands of illegal immigrants from the Middle East and Africa” — the antithesis of the PiS government’s handling of the border crisis with Belarus since 2021. By all appearances, the ruling party designed the referendum questions to highlight key talking points in their campaign and to undermine their main rival: the opposition Civic Coalition led by former Prime Minister Donald Tusk. However, both the PiS and the opposition have been pushing anti-migrant rhetoric in their campaigns in an apparent attempt to outdo each other in what polling shows will be an extremely tight race. 

And so, ahead of this weekend’s vote, we’re bringing you a bittersweet dispatch courtesy of journalist James Jackson, whom you may remember for his past work with The Beet on a borderless tripoint in Central Europe. This week, James takes us back to summertime in Podlaskie, a province in northeastern Poland that, in addition to sharing a highly fortified border with Belarus, is home to two Tatar villages. As the descendants of asylum seekers who settled in the region centuries ago, Podlaskie’s Tatars are living proof of Central and Eastern Europe’s diverse past — and, boy, do they have stories to share. Moreover, since 2021, these communities have experienced the border crisis firsthand and responded with compassion, distributing aid to stranded migrants and refugees and even conducting Islamic funerals for the deceased among them. I hope you find their story as fascinating as I did.

Dispatch from Podlaskie

In Poland’s Wild East, Tatar culture is alive and well 

By James Jackson

There’s something ethereal about driving through the vast Polish region of Podlaskie in the summer. Best known for its bison and Żubrówka Bison Grass Vodka, this is Poland’s own Wild East, a frontier province along the reinforced border with Belarus. Yellow corn fields and seemingly endless rows of green pine trees punctuate its wide-open blue skies. Locals drink a moonshine called duch puszczy, “the spirit of the forest.”

Podlaskie even boasts its own historic horse-riding warriors, the Tatars, one of Europe’s oldest and one of the world’s most northern Muslim populations. With their wooden houses of worship, the Tatar villages of Bohoniki and Kruszyniany have the air of a little mosque on the prairie. Their cemeteries boast gravestones inscribed with novel-sounding Polish-Muslim names like Aisza Poltorzycka and Mustafa Bogdanowicz, alongside flourishes of Arabic and a smattering of Cyrillic lettering.

Kruszyniany Mosque, August 2022

GRZEGORZ GAJEWSKI / ALAMY / VIDA PRESS

JAMES JACKSON

Painted wooden shutters on a wooden house in Kruszyniany. June 2018.

EDWIN REMSBERG / ALAMY / VIDA PRESS

Crimea’s indigenous Tatar population may be larger and better known today, but the Lipka Tatars were Muslim islands in interflowing Catholic and Orthodox seas spread across Poland, Belarus, and Lithuania before modern statehood. There are around 2,000 Tatars still living in Poland today, half in Podlaskie’s Tatar villages and the others scattered to the cities.

‘We don’t feel like outsiders’

In the Western imagination, Central Europe isn’t known for its diversity. Behind the Iron Curtain, everything was communist or Christian, gray with soot, and rife with decaying prefabricated tower blocks. But sitting down over a bright purple chłodnik soup of beetroot, cucumber, and eggs outside a colorful yurt in the Tatar village of Kruszyniany, these preconceptions seem far away. 

As both the nationalist government and catch-all opposition take aim at migrants and refugees from the Middle East and Africa ahead of the parliamentary election on October 15, the Tatars serve as a reminder of a diverse and tolerant Poland that can sometimes be hard for modern observers to recognize.

Dżenneta Bogdanowicz runs a local restaurant and a visitor’s center with her husband. The Bogdanowicz family received this land hundreds of years ago as a gift from the legendary Polish King Jan III Sobieski for bravery in the Battle of Vienna. This battle looms heavily in nationalist myth-making as a time when the Polish Winged Hussars saved Christian Europe from the Turkic hordes of the Ottoman Empire. Some would perhaps rather forget that they fought victoriously alongside Muslim Tatars, just like they did in the Battle of Grunwald to throw off the yoke of the Teutonic order.

Bogdanowicz is a diminutive, effusive woman with a bowl haircut. As we eat, she chatters away in Polish, her first language. “The Polish Tatar language disappeared in the 16th century. Tatars are military men; they came to the area and married women, but children usually learn language from their mother, so that’s why the language disappeared,” she explains. “Many Tatar tribes didn’t have a common language, so they usually spoke the local language of where they were.”

Bogdanowicz’s family once owned 500 hectares (1,235 acres) of land in what is now Belarus, but it was lost in the great redrawing of Poland’s borders after World War II. Her grandfather fought for Poland in the war, following a family tradition of sorts. When he returned from exile in Britain on his wife’s orders, the Communist secret police hunted him down as a former Polish officer. He was kept in a prison camp in the center of Warsaw before he was executed in the 1950s.

She tells us this before instructing us on how to eat the traditional beef pie — “you cut the top off and eat it from the inside” — that she’s served alongside a babka ziemniaczana, a peppery potato cake with salty pickled cucumbers from their garden.

JAMES JACKSON

The Bogdanowiczs’ hospitality took a bittersweet blow five years ago. “We lost everything in a fire, even historical artifacts and souvenirs,” our host says, pointing to a freshly built wooden house that took the place of their burned home. But well-wishers from across Poland rallied to their aid. “We didn’t realize people even knew who we were, but many came to support us financially and mentally, as well,” she recalls. 

“We don’t feel like outsiders,” Bogdanowicz adds. “Polish people see Tatars as equal citizens.”

The frontier of the Islamic world

“The Tatars are a remnant of an extremely multicultural world,” historian and Goodbye, Eastern Europe authorJacob Mikanowski tells The Beet. With nomadic origins as part of the Mongol Golden Horde, the Tatars were invited to settle in the region by a Lithuanian duke who granted asylum to Khan Tokhtamysh’s clan after they lost a war with the conqueror Timur in 1395.

At that time, the Grand Duchy of Lithuania — which later became part of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth — was home to a wide range of ethnic and religious groups, including Orthodox Ukrainians and Belarusians, alongside Ashkenazi Jewish minorities, who would experience the Jewish Golden Age. Then, at the end of the 18th century, Poland-Lithuania’s more centralized and militaristic neighbors in Prussia, Russia, and the Habsburg Empire teamed up to extinguish this diversity and partition the commonwealth, spelling the end for what was once the largest state in Europe.

Nomadic fighters were an invaluable asset on this western edge of the flat Eurasian Steppe, and the Lipka Tatars often crossed sabers with Cossacks, Crimean Tatars, and Ottomans in service of the Grand Duchy of Lithuania and later the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. In a prime position in the Bogdanowiczs’ kitchen, there stands a crescent-shaped standard bearer their ancestors carried centuries ago to fight for this flawed, unstable, yet precocious European republic.

“Eastern Europe is one of the frontier regions of the Muslim world,” Mikanowski explains. “We shouldn’t see it from just the West; you can change your perspective and equally well view it as one of the northernmost extensions of Islam.” Indeed, some Balkan countries have been Muslim longer than Latin America has been Christian, and Tatars have played a crucial role in Eastern European and Russian history.

The Muslim cemetery in Kruszyniany. October 2018.

TOUCH OF NATURE / ALAMY / VIDA PRESS

This consistent exposure to Islam led to one of the strangest trends in Polish history. From the 16th until the 18th century, members of the aristocratic Szlachta elite (who made up around 15 percent of the commonwealth, which by then they viewed as the bulwark of Christendom) started dressing in the Ottoman style and calling themselves Sarmatians, an ancient term for eastern European nomadic tribes taken from Ptolemy’s Geography.

Even when riding into battle against the Ottoman Empire, these nobles wore curved sabers, Turkic kalpak hats, and colorful Persian sashes. “When [Jan III] Sobieski was defeating the Turks during the 1683 Battle of Vienna, his Polish troops were dressed almost exactly the same way as their opponents,” writes journalist Marek Kępa. 

As the only people able to vote under Poland-Lithuania’s Golden Liberty system (also known as the Nobles’ Democracy), the Szlachta relied on an imagined, ancient-Iranian warrior ancestry. “That was to differentiate the gentry from the peasantry. It was about being better than your serfs,” Mikanowski explains. Some nobles even saw the Tatars as their brethren — with the caveat that, as non-Christians, they were unsaved.

Doing something good

Though the Renaissance-era daydream of Sarmatism eventually died out, the Lipka Tatars did not, and they preserved their own traditions despite the disappearance of their language. 

In the village of Bohoniki, half an hour’s drive from Kruszyniany, a wedding party gathers outside the community center while we wait for Maciej Szczęsnowicz, the chairman of the local Muslim community. As we sit down for tea across from the square brown house of prayer with its subtle minaret and red fence spiked with a crescent moon, the sounds of clapping and accordion music waft over to us, along with the scent of cardamom. The celebrants are dancing in a circle; among them is an older man who looks uncannily like a Tatar Lech Wałęsa.

Maciej Szczęsnowicz

JAMES JACKSON

Szczęsnowicz and his community attracted international attention in 2021 after Alexander Lukashenko’s regime tried to send tens of thousands of migrants and asylum seekers over the Belarusian border and into neighboring Poland. A humanitarian crisis ensued, with Polish border guards carrying out unlawful and sometimes violent pushbacks. The Polish government accused Minsk of waging a “hybrid war” and declared a state of emergency along the country’s eastern frontier, barring access to journalists and activists. 

Szczęsnowicz, however, got permission from the Polish authorities to help the migrants, and he was one of the very few allowed to enter the tightly controlled border zone. Together with his community members, he began handing out 300 meals a day. 

Some migrants didn’t survive the journey, succumbing to hunger, thirst, exposure, or injuries from beatings at the hands of border guards. That November, the Bohoniki Tatars conducted an Islamic funeral for 19-year-old Syrian Ahmed al-Hassan, who reportedly drowned in the river that runs along the Polish-Belarusian border. As the Imam read the rites, al-Hassan’s family watched via video link. “We wanted to spread the news that we were doing something good for people,” Szczęsnowicz tells The Beet. 

Despite the bureaucratic hurdles in getting permission from embassies and the Polish authorities, Bohoniki’s Muslim community has held eight more funerals since then, burying the dead on the edge of their cemetery. The most recent ceremony took place in January of this year. 

“They found him close to the Białowieża [Forest]. His brother came for the funeral, and so did the ambassador of Iraq,” Szczęsnowicz recalls. 

Imam Aleksander Bazarewicz (center) says a prayer during the funeral ceremony of a 19-year-old Syrian refugee who drowned in the border river trying to get to Poland. Bohoniki, November 15, 2021.

WOJTEK RADWANSKI / AFP / SCANPIX / LETA

At least 49 people have died since the border crisis began, and more than 200 others are still missing. One body was found with a piece of paper that had the address of the Bohoniki community center written on it, Szczęsnowicz says.

The response to the funerals hasn’t always been positive, however. Szczęsnowicz has even received death threats, as well as offers of police protection.

Polish director Agnieszka Holland’s The Green Border, a film based on the true story of refugees stranded between Belarus and Poland in 2021, has met similar backlash — including from figures in the Polish government. Before the film’s premiere at last month’s Venice Film Festival, Justice Minister Zbigniew Ziobro likened it to Nazi propaganda. (The film won a special jury prize, and Holland filed a lawsuit against Ziobro for defamation.) 

Though the crisis has somewhat abated, the electronic sensors on Poland’s newly constructed border wall registered 20,000 attempts to cross between January and August. 

On election day, October 15, Poles at the polls will also take part in a national referendum, which will ask (among other things) whether they support the “admission of thousands of illegal immigrants from the Middle East and Africa” as part of the European Union’s migration pact. 

The referendum is widely regarded as a way to boost turnout ahead of a tightly fought race where both sides have used immigration has as a rhetorical chess piece. How Poles respond may show how much of the commonwealth’s legacy lives on today. As loyal Muslim defenders of Poland and descendants of refugees, the Tatars will be watching.

JAMES JACKSON

That’s all for now! 

For more of The Beet’s reporting from Poland, check out our March dispatch on how Ukrainian refugees were faring there after one year of all-out war. Until next time,

Eilish

[bopinion]

2023 / 50

Aperçu of the Week:

"Christmas isn't a season. It's a feeling."

(Edna Ferber, US-American writer and Pulitzer Prize winner)

Bad News of the Week:

It's happening now: international aid for Ukraine is faltering. Western governments are increasingly calling for a negotiated peace and would like to reinvest in national interests, as elections are soon to be held. After almost two years of reporting on the war, the Western media are showing a certain tiredness of the topic that could probably only be revived by Taylor Swift. Western populations are increasingly realizing that sanctions and military aid are good for morale but bad for the wallet. And then attention and compassion - to put it insensitively - have been strongly rivaled by the Gaza war.

Vladimir Putin has the resources on his side. The Russian ruler has a productive weapons industry, immense manpower that can be mobilized, no scruples, secure state revenues, no opposition or free media, strategic partners and above all: time. On the other hand, the USA is facing the end of its military aid due to Republican power games. Something Europe cannot compensate for. And Europe is facing a blockade of civilian aid funds (guess what? That's right: Viktor Orbán). Something the USA does not want to compensate for.

Both were foreseeable. At the latest when it became clear that the hopeful summer offensive by the Ukrainian armed forces could not actually achieve anything. In fact, it is about defending our values. Yes, the Western world ignored Libya. Abandoned Afghanistan. Looked the other way on Yemen for years until it began to hurt its own trade. But we can't just sit back and accept that a geostrategic war of aggression is being waged on the European continent. When a bully terrorizes kids in the playground, you hope that the others will stick together and stand up to him. Is that asking too much?

Good News of the Week:

The real Donald is back. I'm not talking about the beloved Disney character but about the Polish Prime Minister. The new and the old - since Donald Tusk already hold office from 2007 to 2014. After a long wait, since the Polish President - from PiS, what a surprise! - first tasked the supposed election winner PiS (Prawo i Sprawiedliwość / Law and Justice) with forming the government, even though it has no coalition partner, the will of the people was respected and the opposition took over. With Donald Tusk as Prime Minister.

It cannot have been a coincidence that his first official act was to attend the EU summit. Tusk is very familiar with its procedures. After all, he was President of the European Council from 2014 to 2019 - the number one job on this continent. And for years he was accused of putting European interests above Polish ones. Which is a paradox in itself. After all, if any nation can draw on its history to realize that it can flourish in Europe, then it is Poland.

The history of our neighboring country to the east is very complex. With many tragically dark, but also hopefully bright chapters. One thing is clear: both countries benefit from good neighborly relations. That's why it was unpleasant for us to be used as a pawn in the election campaign. In one election campaign commercial, the PiS party leader Jarosław Aleksander Kaczyński shouted into the phone that it was time to stop being dictated to by Berlin (there was also a version with Brussels). A cheap attempt by the populists to sell their right-wing nationalism as a defense of patriotic independence. Even a law (officially in order to protect elections) was passed to prevent the opposition from winning the election. And despite the lack of a parliamentary majority, the PiS was tasked with forming a government (which was doomed to failure in the foreseeable future).

It didn't help, as hundreds of thousands on the streets and ultimately the majority of the Polish electorate demanded: away from xenophobia, media surveillance and obstruction of justice. Towards democracy, freedom and Europe. Now everyone wins. The European Union is happy about a strong and self-confident, but open and cooperative Poland. And Poland is finally (back) where it belongs: in the middle of Europe.

Personal happy moment of the week:

Last Friday I was invited to a student party. Officially by my daughter's student council (political science at Munich's Ludwig Maximilian University), which is an honor that otherwise only a few professors and hand-picked alumni are entitled to. So that I could have a drink, I naturally traveled by bike and public transport. And took the penultimate regional train - just to be sure. So I was sitting on the train with Moby on my headphones when I noticed at an intermediate station that quite a few passengers had somehow got off. Then a train attendant speaks to me: "It's always the same with the headphone wearers. You have to get out of here!".

I realize that the part of the train I'm sitting in is being unhooked and parked here. I rush out of the carriage and forward to the section of the train that continues to my station. But the door no longer opens and the train starts moving. Fuck! It flashes through my mind that I now have to wait for the last train. For an hour. In sub-zero temperatures at two in the morning. At a station in the middle of nowhere, where there is neither a kiosk nor a waiting room, just a draughty platform. But after a meter the train stops, the button to open the door lights up green and I can board. The train driver has obviously seen me in the rear-view mirror. And decided that he has a soft spot for headphone wearers. Thank you very much, you made me happy.

I couldn't care less...

...about Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán. He has been blocking important decisions in the European Union for years because it won't let him do everything he wants - such as disempowering the judiciary, disregarding human rights or controlling the media. He does not fit the image of a European at all. Although hardly any other EU country is as dependent on European funds as his. He would like to keep it that way. And not share financial resources with others, especially not with Ukraine. He is using his veto for this, as many decisions at European level require unanimity according to the statute. But even he will not be able to prevent Ukraine, Moldova and Georgia from seeing their future in Europe. Even if he has to leave the room even more often for important votes: Destiny is destiny.

As I write this...

...the German military ends its mission in Mali. The Bundeswehr is a so-called "parliamentary army" that may only be deployed by resolution of the Bundestag and only for defense purposes. Since the Yugoslavian wars, it has also been deployed internationally to defend civilians and democracy, for example as part of United Nations blue helmet missions. Mali is a failed state in West Africa that has been continously in armed battles since its independence from the colonial power France in 1960. The UN mission was supposed to ensure a peace process.

A decade, many deaths and billions later, the foreign military forces are withdrawing. And leave the country in just as desolate a state as they found it. Memories of Afghanistan come to mind. Perhaps we should think about the method of "creating peace without weapons" ("Frieden schaffen ohne Waffen"). I am very sure that the establishment of a permanent school and healthcare system, for example, would have done more for the population than temporary military bases.

Post Scriptum

This year's world climate conference COP28 in Dubai is over. Doubts had already been raised in the run-up to the conference as to whether the event management by one of the most important producers of fossil fuels, of all people, could ensure a targeted phase-out of precisely these forms of energy. And these doubts proved to be justified. The final communiqué, which was ratified by all participating states, contains a soft formulation that calls for a long-term phase-out of oil and gas, but does not create any obligations. Which reminds me of my son promising for the umpteenth time to tidy up his room. Because he realizes it in theory. And then nothing happens in practice.

At the same time, more and more ambitious climate protection measures are being scaled back or at least called into question. Because the hope of some technological miracle in the future (keyword "carbon capture and storage") feels so much better than giving up the comfort we are used to. Humanity has the knowledge, skills and abilities to prevent the worst. But it simply shows far too little willingness to do what is necessary. Out of laziness and convenience. Like my son. I am so tired...

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

' get in . we're going somewhere you can cool your head off . ' the radio will be turned on and there will be no words necessary between them . the radio will be turned on and on the road they will pass versions of themselves and be reminded that everything is manmade and nothing matters . the radio will be turned on and those disembodied voices will feel like the last voices on earth . the radio is on . // blegh , hands u this with me tremblin hands

═══ UNPROMPTED INTERACTIONS ═══ MODERN VERSE Song: The Night We Met - Lord Huron

'What do you mean how did I "find this number"? You're my SON, Robin! Do you have any idea how worried your mother is? Did you even think to bother giving us a phonecall?'

'No! I don't want to hear any excuses on this, do you even care? You've ignored our calls for weeks! This has really showed me how much you actually think about us, thank the lord for that information. Did you forget about Wren's graduation too-'

The melodic plucking of guitar strings seemed to wrap around Robin like a warm embrace, a familiar song that he had heard while situated in Danny's arms on their patio during a sweltering summer afternoon. He could almost hear his soft, scratchy voice singing along with the lyrics as their fingers interlocked and Danny brought the pad of his thumb over Robin's knuckles and serenaded him with a smile on his face. A smile Robin would kill to see right now- but he couldn't. Sure, Danny had only said thousands of times that if he needed him, he could always just give a phonecall. But...Robin had just fixed his collar and kissed his mouth to send him off to his office, thermos full of hot espresso, so he could go finish his story. The phonecall hadn't come until after during dinner, the voice on the other end spewing poison harsh enough to make the assistant wish he'd never touched food at all...that simmering away into nothing would be better.

He supposed that his trembling silence, highlighted by hitched breaths and sniffles, had alerted Yone that something was wrong when he had called only 30 minutes after in order to cement some chords for the next song. Robin's lie stating that his "allergies were just so bad today!" was enough to seemingly teleport the DJ to his apartment and coax him into his car. A practiced activity that they'd done too many times in life, a silent statement about how miserable life could be but... sometimes sharing misery was one of the simplest joys of life. To have someone hold you in their heart enough to swim down into the blackest pits of your soul, to sit beside you in that sadness... Perhaps this drive to nowhere was less a statement of pain and more of a statement of love. Of gentle weeping, crying over and over again "I am here. You are not alone."

I had all and then most of you Some and now none of you Take me back to the night we met I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met....

He did not notice the warm tears dripping down his face, not until their twinkle sung of starlight when illuminated by a passing street lamp. Only did they exist within the reflection staring back at him as his hair bunched on the window he leaned on. Robin lifted his gaze slowly towards the dark sky before it settled on the painted golds and purples of twilight, which shyly peeked over the horizon as dusk quickly approached. His lids were heavy, slipping lower and lower, ready to give into rest - or perhap escape? - and relax. A caress like a ghost's kiss brought his wet eyes to open wide and shift down to the finger hooked into his. To his open phone he hadn't heard buzz with a simple "2 more hours dear, I love you." text that only made his heart want to burst with affection...how he hoped to drown in it.

I am here.

When the night was full of terrors And your eyes were filled with tears When you had not touched me yet.. Oh, take me back to the night we met.

He found enough strength, perhaps drawing it from Yone, to pick up his phone and type back that he loved him too. How excited he was to see him again, he left out that he wishes he was with him, he could cry to him later, he didn't need to scare Danny while he was at work. When he finally set his device down the world had fallen into darkness and he was quick to bring the hand opposite of Yone up to his eyes to wipe away his emotions. Minutes past as the last parts of the song fell away to leave them in a moment of silence, one that almost prompted Robin to speak and stain the quiet with his voice. He kept his mouth shut, no need to speak of anything...not when he wasn't ready to yet...

Not when the radio was on.