Happy Thanksgiving, friends. Today I’m grateful for a whole lot of white food (turkey, potatoes, rolls, etc.) and a healthy, fun, happy family to share it with. I hope your day is joyful and white-starch-filled. XO Becca
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Category Archives: food It’s totally okay with me if you’re getting tired of this. It really is. I know. There’s only so much of someone else’s cheeriness that a normal person can stand. For today, I’m giving you a list of 21 things that make me glad. Just to change things up. 1. It’s snowing. (Yes, it’s really... Does it seem uncharacteristically shallow and silly to tell you that I am grateful for caramel popcorn? Well, then maybe you don’t know me at ALL. Because, oh. I am. Grateful, that is. For caramel popcorn in particular. Mmmm. Pardon me while I wipe the drool off my face with my sticky, sticky fingers. Happy... Here’s why a girl doesn’t blog for nearly a week: She has a birthday. She spends this birthday doing really fun things. She finds herself inundated by happy b-day messages here, there, everywhere and SHE LOVES IT. (Fear not. I am done referring to myself in the third person. This causes instant distress in all... * Rainshowers likely. I love rain in the summer. * A little stalk of bamboo growing in a half-pint jam jar on the kitchen table. * All my fingernails are the same length. * Started reading the beginning of the work-in-progress. Maybe it doesn’t completely fail. * Road trip yesterday got us more than half-way... You know when you get in a rut, and food seems stupid and cooking ridiculous and all you really need to survive is a bucket of ice cream and a sleeve of mini-Butterfingers? Well. Shame on you. I’ve never felt like that a day in my life. — I’d rather have Snickers. — Love, Becca I love the idea of gardening. My dad is a champion gardener, and I have decades-worth of weeding memories, eating the warm-tomato memories, corn-shucking-on-the-run memories, overwhelming zucchini harvest memories, and random other garden memories, including the time that snake slithered right over that foot. (It wasn’t my foot. But I remember the skin-crawl as though... |