Last night I went to the beach to see the sun go down. My husband and I drove to the ocean in nothing but flip flops and light summer clothes. The car thermometer was still reading eighty five as we approached the Golden Gate Bridge. Finally, when we parked the car, the temp had come down somewhere in the seventies. I grabbed a scarf, removed my flip flops, grabbed his hand, and wandered down the beach towards the waves, toes squishing in the warm sand. We dipped our feet in the ocean and watched the waves get larger. The sun went down just like you’d imagine a summer night’s sky—fiery red with bits of orange and gold lining the clouds. We stood there waiting for the sun to finally tip its hat and dip under the horizon. We spotted dolphins playing in the waves. Dolphins. Because, clearly the beautiful sunset and the early fall beach night wasn’t epic enough. Dolphins. Not kidding. Just three little dolphins kicking it in the sunset like it’s no big deal (you can sneak a peek of this beach-y sunset on Instagram–although, my iPhone couldn’t quite capture the magic).
The moral of this story is: It’s still pretty much summer and I’m eating pumpkin pie. Also, dolphins!?! Nature is a gross show off. Continue reading →
I have a confession to make (I wonder how many blog posts I’ve started with that statement–I always feel like I’m confessing something here).
I haven’t always made good use of my leftover chicken bones.
In fact, I used to let my cat eat them (I think at least a hundred of you just unsubscribed from my blog–Uh oh). Well, not the actual bones, but the carcass. In college, my cat and I used to split a rotisserie chicken. This explanation isn’t making things any better is it? I feel like there is no way that I can not sound like a decidedly gross cat lady. To be fair, I was nineteen and lived alone with a slightly bossy (and always hungry) feline roommate. This isn’t making anything better. At all. I should probably erase this entire paragraph, but I shall leave it in the spirit of truth telling and friendship. Continue reading →
It doesn’t always have to be Mac & Cheese, Biscuits or Doughnuts (even though, #OMGYumGetInMyFace). To me, comfort food often means making Kalua Pork in my crock pot, or simmering Red Wine Braised Short Ribs on the stove. It’s therapeutic food that cooks slowly and fills up your house with the most delightful aromas, in this case BUTTER. It’s the kind of food your grandmother would make. The type of meal that you’d want to eat after coming home from work on a rainy day. You know, it’s comfortable. Comfy. Like sweats, but edible. (I should have quit while I was ahead with the descriptions…Oh, well.) Continue reading →
It’s been a week. The long kind. Not all bad, but totally long. I’m sitting here finishing this post that was meant for a Saturday on a Sunday night. Looking at that dreamy beach-y photo from my recent getaway in Carmel and feeling a slight case of the Monday dreads. How, oh, how is it already Sunday night?
I YOLO-ed this weekend (are we still saying YOLO? I didn’t get the memo). There was sunshine and hiking and lots of time with our big golden pup. I ate pumpkin pie for dinner on Friday. I snuggled the husband. Watched a coming of age movie about some bird nerds. I planted some spinach. I ate more pumpkin pie. I purchased a new handbag for the first time in three years. I vowed to said handbag that I will never let it fall victim to a forgotten black and smashed banana (like so many purses before it). Oh, and I intend to eat more pumpkin pie right after I press publish. Okay… so, maybe my weekend was less YOLO and more YOPT (You Only Pie Thrice).
In other news, I’ve compiled this sweet list of things and peeps and funnies that’s got me straight crushin’. Enjoy! Continue reading →
But, back to treats. I’m here to help. I’m bringing you a recipe for some hot n’ sassy plums nestled all comfy-like in a butter-laced almond meal crust. Oh, and I’m totally giving away a copy of the book that inspired this fine creation. See? Treat. Yo. Self. Continue reading →