lindaseccaspina · 2 years ago
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Old Quebec Pies - Brodie Flour Contest 1963
CLIPPED FROMThe Ottawa CitizenOttawa, Ontario, Canada16 Oct 1963, Wed  •  Page 36 CLIPPED FROMThe Ottawa CitizenOttawa, Ontario, Canada06 Feb 1963, Wed  •  Page 30 CLIPPED FROMThe Ottawa CitizenOttawa, Ontario, Canada06 Feb 1963, Wed  •  Page 30 WHAT TO EAT IN QUEBEC?5 Most Popular QUEBECOIS PIES— click I Didnt Mean to Break the Internet With My Cranberry Pickle PieRecipe Cranberry Pickle…
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nothingexistsnever · 17 days ago
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726
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haveyoueatenthis · 11 months ago
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wally-westside · 17 days ago
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To be baked
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ramyeongif · 2 years ago
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// Le Tourtière // This hearty meat pie filled with ground meat, onions: much satisfying
#Tourtiere
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porcarmenmiamor · 1 month ago
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"I should do something productive today" WRONG! wvba native language distribution
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I didn't wanna include mike tyson
"other" in both pie charts refers to when there is only 1 language with only 1 speaker. if I counted them one by one, they would've been 3.15% each
even though I decided to include french for bear hugger and irish for aran ryan just in case, keep in mind that we don't actually hear them speaking those languages and people in dublin don't speak irish as much as in other parts of ireland, neither do people in british colombia or saskatchewan speak french as much as in, say, quebec
dragon's corner man does talk to him in his native language, however I wasn't able to check if it IS cantonese, and as such I'm assuming based on the fact that people in hong kong primarily speak cantonese. if any speakers of the language wish to correct me feel free to!
similarly, I counted mandarin for hoy since people in beijing primarily speak mandarin
because mr dream is from a fictional location and the bruiser bros have no known place of origin, and they just speak english with no clues for any native language other than english, I counted them as english speakers
while english is the official language of jamaica, the majority of jamaicans speak jamaican patois as their native language, so I counted it as bob charlie's native language. however, since it's a creole language I wasn't able to find one definitive answer for if it would be in the same language family as english, basically all sources say yes and no, so I've decided to count it as its own thing
I just realized I probably should've counted italian for little mac too oopsie (nvm guys it's fine)
we do know that hippo only speaks in growls and grunts and that he's from a fictional island in the south pacific, however I'm not sure if it gives much of a clue as to what his native language is, or if he's supposed to be speaking it in the wii game? i'm personally willing to bet that hippo island's language is similar to an actual language from the south pacific and his growls are just a personal thing, but that's just my interpretation
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historia-vitae-magistras · 10 months ago
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Christmas fic please?
☺️
The Blue Hour This is somewhat of a sequel to my other 18th-century fics 'When the Heart is Full the Tongue Will Speak" and "The Prison Ship," but it also stands alone. Valley Forge was arguably the worst winter of the war. Alfred's having a bad time. Matt tries to help. He has something for Alfred. This was supposed to be longer, but I had to say fuck it and put it in the queue, or it wasn't happening, so I'm so sorry for inflicting it on you. Apple pie reference is from the HC that Alfred's pie recipe comes from a nice Pennsylvania Quaker lady who took him in in the late 17th century when he was little after the Massachusetts witch crazes. This isn't a happy fic, but it is deeply loving. Also on ao3
Valley Forge, Christmas 1777
Alfred’s legs didn’t feel quite real as he approached the clearing. It was silent here. No animals. No people, either. Even the last chickadees, so faithful through the winter, had disappeared behind him as the previous winter sun faded from a depressing grey to pitch dark. He was a bit numb and more paranoid as he rounded a copse of trees and found himself staring at a pristine clearing. He recognized this house, grey stone with a heavy slate roof. There was no glass in the windows, but cheery, flickering firelight escaped through whatever slight cracks there were in the shutters. He hefted his rifle, bayonet attached, closer and approached, wary. The forest held its breath, and the fire crackling became louder as he approached. There was smoke from the chimney but no shadows of movement inside. He gripped his rifle. He should go home to his haphazard tar paper and log shack, but it was dark now, and Valley Forge was 30 miles behind.
He pushed open the door with a bang, rifle to his shoulder, and heard a surprised shout. A figure twisted, axe in hand, poised to hook it into Alfred’s neck and remove an arm at the shoulder like a branch from a trunk. Then, a note of laughter, and he was embraced.
Warmth hit him. First, Matt’s entire body was warm, and his clothes were fire-toasty. Then the smell of roasting meat floated, so solid it was almost visible, into his senses. Then, dizziness. Dizziness struck like a blow to the head. Alfred might have passed out on the floor if Matt hadn’t already had his arms around him.
Matt squeezed with more strength than Alfred had ever known his baby brother to have. The rifle was tugged from his hands, and he was suddenly sitting, sodden clothes and boots pulled off, feet stretched towards the fire. He might have vomited if he wasn’t so hallowed out. Matt was gone for only a moment, but Alfred grabbed a hold of him as soon as he was back.
“Have you changed your mind?” He grasped Matt’s sleeve with a shaking hand. “Did you come to your senses?”
“Have you?” Matt said, derisive even as he pressed a mug into Alfred’s hands. “Drink that, and the world will stop spinning.”
“Matthew---” He didn’t let go of Matt’s sleeve. “You haven’t come to—.”
“Bend the knee?” Matthew’s eyes flashed, and Alfred was all too aware of the axe on his belt and the rifle against the wall. “No. I’m not.”
“What are you doing here then?” He let Matt go and sipped on the contents of the mug—broth, salty and rich beyond belief. Matt was right. The world did stop spinning.
“It’s Christmas.”
“Is it?”
“It is,” Matt said with a watery smile. “I take it you got my note.”
“Pie at sundown,” Alfred recalled. “I got it. I could hardly believed you remembered that.”
“First apple pie you ever made me. I’ll remember it til the sun goes dark.” Matt was before him with a blanket and a stack of clothes. “Finish drinking that, put these on and then we’ll talk.”
They were his own clothes, what he’d left in the chest of drawers in Boston after he’d slipped his guards and disappeared across the border and into Quebec. He wanted to toss them back. They were the clothes of a crown subject, a boy with a British boot on his neck. Not the free man he wanted to be. That he was, but he hadn’t had a fresh shirt since his baby brother had dragged his corpse out of his shallow grave on the Hudson. He could wash it as often as he liked, but the linen was still wearing thin. His former things were practically new, the linen fresh and clean, the wool still warm. Alfred ran a hand over the fabric, still so chilled he hardly considered his pride as Matt turned away to tend to the bird slowly roasting over the fire and dressed. He glanced over his shoulder when Alfred slipped the shirt over his head. There hadn’t been a mirror to look at himself in months, and he didn’t want to. He knew his ribs were stark; he could feel them. Matt looked that kind of devastated that, if he hadn’t turned away, might have made Alfred cry.
“Have you had a decent meal since I saw you?” He didn’t look over his shoulder again until the shirt was over his head, and he’d buttoned the blue waistcoat over his chest. Everything was so ill-fitting now.
Alfred ignored him. “Does Father know you’re here?”
Matthew snorted. “It’s Christmas; he’s so deep into the officer’s nog when I left he won’t realize I’ve gone unless I’m not there for epiphany morning with tea going. So I shot a turkey and pissed off south to find you. Looks like its a good thing I did too.”
“I’m fine.” Alfred scowled. “There’s a camp of thousands of men 2 miles from here with nothing but rice and vinegar for Christmas dinner. Next to them, I’m all right.”
“I’m sorry,” Matt said, and it damn well looked like he meant it, narrow shoulders bowed as he sat heavily onto one of the overturned logs he obviously meant to use as a kitchen chair for the occasion.
“You could feed a lot of people if you stayed. You’re a good hunter.”
“Don’t,” Matt said. “We’ve had this conversation. Look at you. You know I wouldn’t survive another war like this. You’re kissed by God himself and you look like death.”
“It’s not so bad.”
“Rice and vinegar, eh? Yeah well. Try some turkey and see if it compares.”
“Why do you keep coming to see me if you won’t pick a side, Matt? You’re committing treason and you know it.”
“You’re my brother.”
His shrug was simple, unemotional. The sky was up, the Earth was down, the snow was cold, and Matt would haul and shoot a turkey and walk four days just to sneak him a decent meal. He teared up. Maybe it was the cold, the deprivation or just how much he missed home and heart and heart. Throat working, shoulders shaking even if he wasn’t crying, he grabbed Matt by the shoulders and squeezed for a third time, kissing him on the forehead about a dozen times and just feeling something so desperately affectionate he had to ride it out like dizziness.
“I missed you.” He said.
“You too.” Matt had clamped himself around Alfred, playing as if he just held on; he wouldn’t feel how much weight he’d dropped since summer. After a long moment, he made Alfred sit on one of the logs and tossed the rucksack while he struck flint and steel and put tinder to kindling. “Have you been sick? You look terrible,”
“Everyone is.” He said. There was no point in hiding it. “You know what it’s like. A moving army is a healthy army. A camped army is a sick army.”
“Why do you think I like the woods so much? I could run from the British as easily as from the typhus.”
“Yeah, well, they’re my people. I can’t leave them.”
“Do you have scurvy yet?”
“Gettering there.” He poked his tongue at his teeth. He had all of them, but he was always so tired. It couldn’t be far away.
Matt pivoted and took an orange in each hand, shoving them at Alfred. “Father... he’s in the habit of buying two.”
“I can’t take these!”
“Think of them as reparations.”
“Won’t you get scurvy?’
“I get lime juice twice a day. Just take anything you want out of my pack and eat it. Take the rest tomorrow. I’ll get a rabbit on my way back if I get hungry.”
“Why do you have to go back?”
“Stop asking me that. Pick something for me to make out of what’s in there, all right? Anything you want tonight, and you can take the rest tomorrow.”
“I want you to stay.”
Matt leaned against the wall by the hearth, arms crossed. “And I don’t want to die. So stop asking. That’s the agreement. Stay alive. Not stay with you.”
“You should be my right hand. It should be me and you against the world.”
“You’re the one fighting with the world, Alfred. I already have. I lost. Pick a vegetable, eat an orange, have some wine and stop trying to sentence me to death because you’re lonely again.”
He was tearing up, and so was Alfred. They looked away from each other, and Alfred went to the pack.
He opened food like he had once opened pewter inkwells at the apothecaries, looking for the blue ink he liked better than the quickly fading walnut; there were cranberries, potatoes, apples, stalks of celery, onions, cabbage, carrots, mushrooms, honey cakes, tea, coffee, a jug of wassail and a smaller bottle of Madeira. Smaller quantities of sugar, flour, oats, rice, raisins and rye. There were more of his clothes that he hadn’t taken when he’d fled Boston nearly two years prior. And under all that, a length of blue cloth with shining brass buttons. 
“Mattie.... What is that coat?” 
His brother froze. He’d been dragging his knife down the side of the roasted bird and onto a rough-hewn platter. For one long moment, Alfred thought he might burst into tears. 
“It’s for you.” He said. 
“Whe did you get it?” 
“General Montcalm.” He said. “It was too big so I hid it under the floorboards. Thought I’d wear it too the victory parade someday. It’s... it’s your colour now, isn’t it?”
“It— Yeah it is.” 
“I hope its luckier for you than it was for me.” He said quietly. “I hope Lord Bonnefoy is better to you too.”
“Mattie.” Alfred said quietly. 
Matt was standing there, eyes shut against tears, until he looked up at Alfred with those same big, hopeful eyes he’d always had before all this. Full of all the softness and warmth of Canada that may not have existed elsewhere that winter. Words stuck in his throat, and suddenly, so homesick he wanted to burst, Alfred opened his arms. Matt gave up on carving the bird, put down the plate, and allowed Alfred to pull him in again. If Matt had grown, it was only a little, and Alfred could still easily rest his cheek on Matt’s crown, which he did for a long moment.
“Thank you.” He said. 
“It was meant for you,” Matt replied. “You’re... tall and capable like that. It will fit you, even when you fill it out again.” 
“You’ll grow.” Alfred said. “Someday. And then we'll be fine."
Someday. 
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jrooc · 9 months ago
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✨ Tag Game Wednesday ✨
Thank you dearest @juliakayyy @energievie @mybrainismelted @deedala @mmmichyyy @stocious @francesrose3 for tagging me!
~~~~~~~~~~~ Name: Jess
Age: A little younger than Noel
star sign: Libra ♎️
your first language: English
second language: I can swear pretty expertly in Quebec French
favourite lip product: Glossier’s Bom Dot Com- lifesaving in Canadian winter
the best food dish you can make without a recipe: Chicken Pot Pie or fish tacos with mango salsa. Or seared tuna. I’m a decent home cook.
If you drink tea, what kind?  British black tea. I like Typhoo or the green box
If you drink coffee, what roast do you usually get? Medium
favourite thing to watch on youtube right now:  Gallavich edits or workout videos
favourite thing to watch on youtube in 2012: was I on YT back then? Maybe music videos or Queer as Folk clips?  
favourite item of clothing right now: My Gallavich sweatshirt from Redbubble
favourite item of clothing in 2012: Probably ripped jeans like I’ve been wearing every day for years
fandom
three movies you recommend: Kiera Knightley’s Pride and Prejudice, Garden State, Empire Records
your favourite concert: Rilo Kiley or Wolf Parade. Maybe Modest Mouse? There’s been a lot of shows, man
have you ever unfollowed someone over a fandom opinion? Im afraid of Shameless Reddit
have you ever left a fandom because of the fans? No but I’m pretty new to fandom. Hi! Happy to be here 👋🏻
the best tv show you watched last year: The Bear and The Last of Us (Julia this is great I’m just stealing your answers lol)
do you have a fancasting you just can’t let go of? Noel Fisher and Cameron Monaghon
a ship you’ve abandoned: JimmySteve/Fiona
on a scale of 1-10 how willing are you to share your ao3 history? 10 but Proceed at your own risk. As Kaka said I’m apart of the weird shit channel on discord and have seen some things.
do you have a fandom tattoo? (do you want one?) 1000% but probably something subtle or hidden. Maybe a line of dialogue like “Sorry I’m Late”
what fandom do you wish was bigger? Shrug emoji
has a finale ever ruined a show for you? How I Met Your Mother .. wtf
have you…
swam in an ocean? Yes! (Currently right next to one) ever been vegan/vegetarian? Never I love meat. gone skinny dipping? Yupp gone skiing? Yes but not a fan. been to a convention? For work? Too many.
Waving hi or tagging @deathclassic @skylerwinchester @creepkinginc @ms-moonlight-inn @redwiccanrobin @mickeysgaymom @tv-obssessions @such-a-barbarian @gallavichsuperfan @peppaspice @guinguin1984 @ian-galagher @darlingian @librasrenaissance @samantitheos @sleepyfacetoughguy @crossmydna @heymrspatel @heymacy @sam-loves-seb @sgtmickeyslaughter
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osmanthusoolong · 2 years ago
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Time for another edition of Cooking With Osmanthusoolong!
Last night, we made tourtière, which is a meat pie from Quebec and New Brunswick, usually served for Christmas/New Year’s, but I like it whenever, as long as it’s chilly out. My recipe is based off my maternal grandmother’s, but you know, modified. Given that I don’t eat meat. Some people would say that it’s inauthentic, given that I use Beyond ground not-meat instead of beef/pork/venison, but given that the recipe originally called for passenger pigeon, it hasn’t been authentic since the turn of the 20th century. There’s also spirited debate about if potato goes in, but that’s a whole class politics thing and anyway, it’s better with potato. Lastly, before the recipe starts, I’m just gonna say: more people should use summer savoury when they cook, it’s so fucking good
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:readmore:
Recipe time!
You can do whatever you want for your pie crust, we didn’t have a ton of time and got storebought. Get your double pie crust, however you want to.
Filling:
1 potato (I like white, but whatever you prefer for a mashed potato)
1 medium or half a really big white onion
1 tbsp or so butter, listen to your heart
We used a package of ground beyond beef, 340g
Optional: stalk of celery, finely chopped
Peel and chop your potato, boil in salted water. Reserve a little of the water after boiling, mash potatoes well
Spice mix (approximate measures):
1.5 teaspoons salt
2/3tsp cinnamon
1/2tsp ginger
1tsp summer savoury (absolutely vital)
1/4 tsp each of ground nutmeg, allspice and ground mustard (technically the mustard is optional)
1/8 tsp ground cloves
1/2-2/3tsp ground black pepper
Stir your spice mix together, some people add cayenne if you feel like it
Chop your onion finely, cook it in a big skillet in the butter until it’s translucent (add celery if you’re using it)
Add your meat, or meatless meat, browning it with the onions, and add the spice mix
Now add the potato, mixing everything well, if it’s looking dry, add some of the reserved potato water
I usually taste it here and see if it needs more salt or summer savoury
Put it in your crust
We cooked it according to crust instructions, so 50 minutes at 350F, until it’s golden
PIE TIME
Makes a 9 inch pie
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goldenbloodytears · 7 months ago
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A stupidly simple question but one that eludes me regardless- what do you think Danny's favorite food would be?
Good question. I had to think about it for a second but my gut is saying shepherds pie?
I’m not American but I wanted something a little more comfort food-y than the foods that get generically associated with Americans (pizza, burgers, etc)
His last-name is Johnson, suggesting an English background… so in Quebec we have something called Pate Chinois, it’s usually called Shepherds Pie in English, and it’s very similar to the actual British dish. Like it’s mashed potatoes, minced beef and corn.
What I’m trying to say is I think he likes meat and potatoes lol (and now I’m hungry lol)
If we reframe the question slightly, I would like to suggest that he is not picky when it comes to food. If he moved around with his dad a lot (debatable but likely?) he probably got introduced to different foods even if it was just bouncing around bases within the United States.
I also think the old man would just generally not put up with any kind of fussy eating tbh?
You’re going to eat what you have and you’re going to like it because you don’t get to pick what you’re eating when on campaign, basically?
Now I’m wondering if Danny’s ever eaten game meats like deer… I’m going to guess so, one because I can see the old man teaching him how to skin something. Masculine pursuits and all that. I wonder if he would eat moose spagetthi.
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fuckyeahfightlock · 2 months ago
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I re-read "North Hope Cove" over the weekend and fell in love with Justin and Daniel all over again. ❤️
OMG I love that. I reread it last spring and I still loved it.
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So they ended up buying that house they were renting, since after three years together they thought it was a safe bet. :-) Daniel still drives that Chevy pickup, really held together with rust and dreams at this point, but they traded Justin's orange egg car and his late husband's Suburban for an almost-new Tacoma and a fairly fancy travel trailer because Justin would only agree to go camping if it wasn't in a tent. So far they've camped in all the New England states, New York, Quebec, and New Brunswick, and they have an idea they may spend most of next summer on Prince Edward Island; Daniel's working on the details.
Tugboat and Maggie the Cat are in their dotage, mostly loafing around and living like the royalty they are. There's a couple in Six Rivers breeding some pretty nice Labradors; Justin's thinking of putting a deposit on a puppy but only after his girl Maggie is gone--he wouldn't want her to be jealous of a new girl.
Daniel's still working as the village caretaker, mowing the sports fields at the high school, painting all the trim on the public library's 67 windows and 9 doors. They had to limit themselves to one take-home pie a month from the Coffee Pot when they noticed their middles expanding in that way they do when couples are happy. They can still see the North Hope Light from their backyard.
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invisibleraven · 1 year ago
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It's not that cold, peterpatterlina
When her boyfriends first suggested going away for a weekend, Julie had visions of a cute little B&B up the coast, maybe that historic inn right on the boarder of Oregon she had hinted about with the spa in it.
She wasn't expecting a rustic cabin in the woods.
But here they were, faces shining with pride as they made little 'Ta da!' gestures, and Julie couldn't squash that. "It's very cottage core," she finally landed on.
"Right?" Luke said, still beaming. "Carrie found it for us when I told her we wanted to go off the grid. No frills, just us."
"It does have running water and electricity," Reggie assured her. "But also a fireplace and a nice clawfoot tub."
Julie looked intrigued by that-it did sound awfully romantic, so she let herself be lead inside. The decor was a little dated, but it was homey and comfortable looking. Plus the water did work, and the fully stoked fridge seemed to be functioning. "Alrighty then, which one of you knows how to chop wood for that fire?" she asked.
Luke and Reggie looked at each other, dumbfounded, and Julie sighed. There was a small stack of logs by the fireplace, but she very much doubted they would last her the weekend. "Reggie you grew up on a farm and you don't know how to chop wood?"
"In Georgia," he replied. "It doesn't exactly merit fire weather there very often. And MeeMaw didn't trust me with an axe."
"Given how accident prone you are, that's probably fair," Luke snickered.
"Hardy har Lu, you aren't exactly a lumberjack either. What happened to all those summers with your mom's folks in Quebec?" Reggie retorted.
"They live in Montreal, not some backwater. They didn't even own a fireplace, they had central heating!" Luke argued back.
Julie sighed, then marched out the door once more, finding the woodshed in an effort to avoid listening to them bicker. She did thankfully know how to chop wood, and got to it.
Reggie and Luke came out soon after, both whistling obnoxiously as she cleaved another log in twain.
"Aren't you cold?" Reggie asked, wrapping his flannel tighter around himself.
Julie looked down at her tank top, her own flannel tied around her waist, and shrugged. "It's not that cold," she replied. "Plus this is sweaty work, so why don't one of you run me that bath and the other sort out supper until I'm done?"
They scurried off and Julie went back to her chopping until she was happy with her work. She'd probably have to come out again to get them through to Sunday night and replenish the pile before they left, but it would do for now.
Back inside the cabin there was a small fire going, with Luke whipping together something in the kitchen-probably mac & cheese, one of the few meals he could make masterfully. There was a steaming mug sitting at the counter though and Julie smiled as the spices of the hot cider hit her tongue. "Yum!"
"Thanks, got it at the farmer's market before we left," Luke said. "Though I did get some apples from the orchard stall so I think if we beg Reg enough he'll make us his famous pie."
Julie groaned at the thought of Reggie's pie. Between her and Luke they were pretty decent cooks, but Reggie was a world class baker, and his apple pie was to die for. "How long until supper?"
"At least a half hour," Luke replied. "Go enjoy your bath." She thanked him with a lingering kiss, flavoured with the cinnamon from her drink and the nutty cheese Luke favoured in his mix, but it was a strangely compelling combo, making it only a little bit hard to pull away towards the bath calling her name.
Julie pulled her curls into a messy bun and chuckled when she entered the bathroom to find Reggie testing the water of the bath, piled high with bubbles. "You weren't about to steal my bath were you cariño?"
Reggie turned, a look of guilt quickly vanishing his features. "No? Maybe hoping you'll share. You know I like my occasional bath."
Julie laughed, shaking her head. "I don't think that thing will fit the both of us," she nodded at the tub which looked gorgeous and barely big enough for one.
"Had to try," Reggie said with a shrug. "I'll go start unpacking, you soak."
Julie sighed as she lowered herself into the steaming water, but called Reggie back, pulling him down for a kiss, uncaring that she was getting suds in his hair or that his kiss made the temperature of her bath seem tepid in comparison.
He was grinning as he left, and Julie leaned back, feeling the tension from the surprise of this place and her hard work melt away. Sure it was no luxury resort or five star accomodations, but she was already loving it here.
Especially when by the time they left, fully relaxed, and reluctant to go back to society, Julie did it with a new ring on her finger, and her two fiances promising they could come back next year.
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burstfoot · 9 months ago
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do you have a favorite flavor/type of pie?
I swear I'm not joking when I say my favourite is apple pie LOL, though I do enjoy sugar pie a lot as well:
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^ Sugar pie pictured, I think they're more popular in Quebec but maybe they're an international thing
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allthecanadianpolitics · 2 years ago
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A lot of parents in the Quebec City and Lévis regions might have to change their work schedules as school bus drivers are headed for a strike Monday.
Eighty-five drivers with Autobus Tremblay & Paradis and its subsidiary Autobus B.R., both affiliated with the CSN, are set to walk off the job.
The La Capitale, Des Découvreurs and Des Navigateurs school service centres as well as the Central Quebec School Board will be affected by the walkout, which will last at least a week.
That means about 6,000 students could be left without a ride to school.
Hélene Thibault, union president, says salaries are at the heart of negotiations.
The employer offered a 10 per cent salaries increase and some social benefits, she said. But the union estimates that in the last few years, contracts between school service centres went up by 15 to 30 per cent.
"We're allowed our piece of the pie."
Thibault added that most drivers take home less than $400 per week.
"They want to bring back people because they lack drivers. It's not by giving salaries of 300 and some dollars a week that they will attract people," she said.
Thibault is sorry to see the situation affect the parents, but in the current economic context, she says the bus drivers are forced to take this step.
Continue Reading.
Tagging: @politicsofcanada
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burntblueberrywaffles · 7 months ago
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"I'm not from the US" i ask you 5 and 16
And sending you kisses because you're a cutie pie 🌹🕊
Thank you for the ask beloved! 🫶🫶
5-favourite song in your native language?
Ok so I’m not sure how to answer this question, bc if you ask me my favourite song *in french* the answer WILL ALWAYS be La lumière by Pomme 😌���� but if we’re talking "my native language" as in QC French specifically, it has to be Les étoiles Filantes by Les cowboys Fringants, which is simply such a beautiful song 🥺🥺 (I actually love it so much I recently did an English Lyric video with the translation bc I think everyone should listen to this song even if they don’t understand french, guys just trust me on this and give it a try 🙏🙏🥺🥺🥺)
16-which stereotype about your country you hate the most and which one you somewhat agree with?
Ohhh this is a good question 🤔 this one also has different sets of answers if you go by "my country" as in Canada, or as in "Quebec" which is not a country but should be whoop bc we have such a different cultural identity - gonna go with the QC version of this question bc idk what’s going on in the rest of Canada lmao - one stereotype I definitely hate is the French thinking we’re "dumber" or that we "don’t speak real French" bc of our accent and dialect 😒 SHUT UP THERES NO SUCH THING AS REAL FRENCH WHEN THE LANGUAGE EVOLVED AT THE SAME PACE IN OUR RESPECTIVE COUNTRIES 😤 and just bc we have more snow than you doesn’t mean we’re somehow lacking in technology???
Trying to think about a stereotype I’ve heard that I agree with is harder LMAO ig that we love poutine? Not the case for every single citizen of course but Poutine IS banging 😌😌😌 legit it’s a huge safe food for me, cause going to random restaurant where none of the menu items look appealing, you know the poutine will always at least be eatable LOL
I SEND YOU KISSIES TOO 🤭🤭❤️❤️❤️
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signalhill-if · 1 year ago
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🍊 for Levi PRETTY PLEASE?
(Sorry I haven't gotten to these yet, I had an absolutely awful day yesterday!)
The question boils down to "what is their favourite food?" and the answer is...
TOURTIÈRE!
I never know how to answer these questions but I know this French Canadian* bastard would eat the FUCK out of a good tourtière. As would I. I am also that French Canadian* bastard.
For those of you who do not know, tourtière is a delicious meat pie from Quebec, which is often served for French Canadian Christmas dinners 😌 I could never make a world where my grandma's tourtière doesn't exist, and therefore I am making it canon that this is a common food for special occasions in the North.
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Yum....
* Levi is technically not French Canadian cause despite the North absolutely being Quebec, I refuse to make it canon. Also I'm technically not French Canadian, only half, I am an Ontarian 😌
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