In college, when I didn't really have a full kitchen to myself, but I was so very sick of dining hall food, I'd grab a few things I could microwave in my dorm room to change it up. Not so much a favorite, but a standby, I usually had Hot Pockets around. I also enjoyed pop tarts, but rarely let myself buy them. After all, they're "awful for you". (I conveniently ignored this same reasoning with the Hot Pockets.)
This is the time of year where I'm scrambling to find as many recipes as I can to use up the garden's abundance of zucchini. Some I test out, and they end up oily, or dense, or really only passable in their use. Then there are recipes like this one, which are perfect for when you're absolutely sick of eating zucchini, and you couldn't look at another, only there are five more waiting for you to pick them. You can't actually taste the zucchini in these, or even really see them once cooked, but the zucchini helps them to be incredibly rich and moist, letting the chocolate shine through.
I have become a collector of cookbooks. I didn't really intend that to happen, and I don't exactly actively seek new books to add to my collection; nevertheless, the two shelves in my kitchen reserved for cookbooks are running very quickly out of space. There are some I rarely use, some that are terribly stained from heavy use, and many in between. My most treasured cookbooks, though, are the ones that have come from my grandmas, Eva and Elsie. There's something about flipping through a cookbook and finding a small note written next to a recipe "Good". Even more treasured are the recipes slipped in between the pages, or bound together in a three ring binder, that they took the time to record.
Ashley spread her blanket out on the sand and smoothed out the wrinkles. Then she settled in. People of all ages, sizes, and styles walked by in front of her. She thought about unwrapping her sandwich, but she wasn't ready to fend off the seagulls yet. So she rested back on her elbows and watched. An older gentleman walked by, in a full grey linen suit, with a twisted wooden cane in one hand and his wife holding his other. She had a sundress that brushed her calves, and looked as though she could probably use a cane too, but her husband held her close. A runner came up behind them and called "On your left!" before running past in her neon pink running shorts and lime green tank top. Her ponytail swished back and forth as she ran.
Stasi watched out the window of the SUV as she fingered the lace on her Grandma Ernestine’s dress. She had always loved this dress, the dress Gram had chosen for her wedding in 1946. She loved that it was teal instead of the now traditional white. She’d never seen another dress approach it in pure style. Her mother had agreed to let her wear it for her own wedding, saying “It’s blue enough to count, it’s new to you, it’s borrowed, and it’s definitely old.” And now, here she was, driving around with Pastor Tom, her mother Freya, Martin and his dad Alberto, and Greg and Ruth, hoping to find somewhere perfect for their wedding that night.
She tasted the salsa. Mmm, just about perfect. Maybe another squeeze of lime though? Clara squeezed a small wedge of lime over the salsa, stirred it in with her chip, and tasted again. There we go. She wrote the winning combination down on her notepad next to the bowl, now a bit splattered with tomato and lime juice, and moved on.
Jonathan and I had a great time at the Children's Museum recently. We were both having a rather bad day, but we went anyway to burn off some extra energy, and it turned out to be a great turnaround to the day. I snagged a few pictures while Jonathan briefly stood still, then it was off to the next thing. :)
My guys are runners. I am not. I am much more happy riding my bike, and would rather save running for those "Only if I absolutely must..." times. I do love that they like to run together. This picture is from a race they did back on May 3rd. I got to hang out and take pictures of them and friends, while they got to spend time together doing something they love to do. A good day.
This is currently my favorite flower growing in our yard. It's a lovely rosebush that produces lots of vibrantly hot pink roses. I've already clipped some and brought them in for a small bouquet to enjoy, and there's still half a dozen more. I normally wouldn't have chosen a long stem rosebush, but I really love this one, so much so that I may end up getting another to plant nearby, if I can decide on a color!