We're all sick! Thanks November! I've been trying to keep busy:
Making Bread
Making Soup
I am hoping we will all be healthy by this weekend. One of our favorite events is this weekend: The Annual Belmont Shore Christmas Parade! Come on down and cheer for high school marching bands and the Ripples float! It's like a small town parade with a Long Beach frame of mind. I love it.
See you there!
29 November, 2011
06 November, 2011
07 May, 2011
Spring!
The air is warm and scented of jasmine. Everything is blooming and the skies are blue and everyone I run into seems to want to go OUTSIDE. I can’t stop thinking about taking off my shoes and walking on the beach. Warm sand! So exciting!
Of course, the weather is supposed to cool again this weekend, and the beach isn’t quite so attractive at 66 degrees as it is at 85. Spring is a trickster, though, and I am sure I will get my warm sand sometime soon. What’s the old saying, ‘if you don’t like the weather, just wait’?
We went to the fabulous LA Times Festival of Books and got to see my favorite teacher and an old friend, FancyJane. @FancyJane: if you are reading this, you should blog about the genesis of your “FancyJane” moniker- awesome!
I didn’t get into a panel discussion this year, but I did get to hear Thomas Keller (of The French Laundry, Bouchon, and Per Se restaurants) speak, supporting his “Ad Hoc” cookbook. His exemplary cookbook, “The French Laundry Cookbook” was one of the first I ever bought.
When I got married, all I could accomplish in the kitchen was Top Ramen. Also, I could screw up rice pretty epically. I bought cookbooks in a consciously optimistic state of mind. I believed that one day I would be able to cook something edible. The first cookbooks I bought were a hodgepodge of technique and specialty books, and one of the first was “The French Laundry Cookbook”. The connotations of the name, for me, were what drew me in at first. I saw the clean white linen image from the cover which was entirely different than anything I had seen before. When I first peeked inside, I knew I had to have it. The pictures are exquisite and the whole book just has this, well,
philosophy of cooking that sort of blew my mind. I have to admit that I haven’t made much from this book (I believe just one recipe, actually), but I return to it again and again for the inspiration about what an art that cooking can become.
I didn’t grow up with respect for the kitchen (I worked in one dining room a long time ago and when I heard that the chef had gotten a degree in cooking I didn’t believe him- who would take that job on purpose?!?), but I feel as though this book changed my perception in a pretty major way. I am never going to be a chef, and I am certainly
not an amazing home cook, either. But I hammer away, learning what I can, eating new things, experimenting and practicing as I can. Now, years after I bought that cookbook? Well, I can cook, a little. I can truss and roast a chicken that is truly a golden, crispy-skinned thing of beauty. Each time I get into the kitchen I get a little better.
On Sunday, during his talk, Thomas Keller spoke of how a chef masters
a technique, discussing the nature of practice as an important part of
a chef’s training, ending with this: “I think that if you succeed the
first time you try something, it’s just luck”. I am definitely not
lucky, but I am determined. Getting a little better, every day.
Of course, the weather is supposed to cool again this weekend, and the beach isn’t quite so attractive at 66 degrees as it is at 85. Spring is a trickster, though, and I am sure I will get my warm sand sometime soon. What’s the old saying, ‘if you don’t like the weather, just wait’?
We went to the fabulous LA Times Festival of Books and got to see my favorite teacher and an old friend, FancyJane. @FancyJane: if you are reading this, you should blog about the genesis of your “FancyJane” moniker- awesome!
I didn’t get into a panel discussion this year, but I did get to hear Thomas Keller (of The French Laundry, Bouchon, and Per Se restaurants) speak, supporting his “Ad Hoc” cookbook. His exemplary cookbook, “The French Laundry Cookbook” was one of the first I ever bought.
When I got married, all I could accomplish in the kitchen was Top Ramen. Also, I could screw up rice pretty epically. I bought cookbooks in a consciously optimistic state of mind. I believed that one day I would be able to cook something edible. The first cookbooks I bought were a hodgepodge of technique and specialty books, and one of the first was “The French Laundry Cookbook”. The connotations of the name, for me, were what drew me in at first. I saw the clean white linen image from the cover which was entirely different than anything I had seen before. When I first peeked inside, I knew I had to have it. The pictures are exquisite and the whole book just has this, well,
philosophy of cooking that sort of blew my mind. I have to admit that I haven’t made much from this book (I believe just one recipe, actually), but I return to it again and again for the inspiration about what an art that cooking can become.
I didn’t grow up with respect for the kitchen (I worked in one dining room a long time ago and when I heard that the chef had gotten a degree in cooking I didn’t believe him- who would take that job on purpose?!?), but I feel as though this book changed my perception in a pretty major way. I am never going to be a chef, and I am certainly
not an amazing home cook, either. But I hammer away, learning what I can, eating new things, experimenting and practicing as I can. Now, years after I bought that cookbook? Well, I can cook, a little. I can truss and roast a chicken that is truly a golden, crispy-skinned thing of beauty. Each time I get into the kitchen I get a little better.
On Sunday, during his talk, Thomas Keller spoke of how a chef masters
a technique, discussing the nature of practice as an important part of
a chef’s training, ending with this: “I think that if you succeed the
first time you try something, it’s just luck”. I am definitely not
lucky, but I am determined. Getting a little better, every day.
18 April, 2011
My Awesome Caffeinated Brownies
2 cups of sugar
1 cup canola oil
4 eggs
6 tablespoons of cocoa
1 teaspoon vanilla
1.5 cups of flour
1.5 teaspoons of baking powder
1 teaspoon of kosher salt
2 tablespoons of instant coffee
1/4 cup of brewed coffee
3/4 cup chopped walnuts (optional)
Heat oven to 325 degrees.
Mix together the sugar, oil, eggs, cocoa and vanilla in a mixer until they are well combined. Scrape down the bowl at least once. In a separate bowl, (I use my larger glass measuring cups for this) combine the flour, baking powder and salt. Stir with a whisk to combine thoroughly. Add slowly to the egg/sugar mixture. In a small cup, mix the brewed coffee with the instant coffee. Mix well. Measure 2 tablespoons of this mixture and add to the brownie mixture, discarding the rest. Stir well. If you like walnuts, add them now.
Grease a 1/4 sheet pan or a similarly sized pan (about 13x9) using butter. I use part of the butter wax paper wrapper for this. Pour the brownie mixture into the pan, spreading it evenly. Cook for about 25-30 minutes. It should stop wiggling in the middle when you gently shake the pan when it is done.
I LOVE these. They are the perfect level of gooey for me- completely suitable for brownie sundaes. Enjoy!
1 cup canola oil
4 eggs
6 tablespoons of cocoa
1 teaspoon vanilla
1.5 cups of flour
1.5 teaspoons of baking powder
1 teaspoon of kosher salt
2 tablespoons of instant coffee
1/4 cup of brewed coffee
3/4 cup chopped walnuts (optional)
Heat oven to 325 degrees.
Mix together the sugar, oil, eggs, cocoa and vanilla in a mixer until they are well combined. Scrape down the bowl at least once. In a separate bowl, (I use my larger glass measuring cups for this) combine the flour, baking powder and salt. Stir with a whisk to combine thoroughly. Add slowly to the egg/sugar mixture. In a small cup, mix the brewed coffee with the instant coffee. Mix well. Measure 2 tablespoons of this mixture and add to the brownie mixture, discarding the rest. Stir well. If you like walnuts, add them now.
Grease a 1/4 sheet pan or a similarly sized pan (about 13x9) using butter. I use part of the butter wax paper wrapper for this. Pour the brownie mixture into the pan, spreading it evenly. Cook for about 25-30 minutes. It should stop wiggling in the middle when you gently shake the pan when it is done.
I LOVE these. They are the perfect level of gooey for me- completely suitable for brownie sundaes. Enjoy!
17 April, 2011
I Scream, You Scream......
So I have been cooking more! Yesterday I made super tasty Greek frozen yogurt. It was delicious and completely easy. You can find the recipe I used by clicking here. The recipe is quoted from a book called The Perfect Scoop", which went right onto my Amazon wishlist. It was definitely a Pinkberry type taste- it was very good. Kind of tart and sweet at the same time.
I think I will be trying to modify this basic recipe in the future. I have this ice cream maker, that we have mostly used to make sorbets. I have also made this Barefoot Contessa ice cream, which was very decadent with stewed berries. This summer will see our ice cream maker in use a lot, I suspect.
I think I will be trying to modify this basic recipe in the future. I have this ice cream maker, that we have mostly used to make sorbets. I have also made this Barefoot Contessa ice cream, which was very decadent with stewed berries. This summer will see our ice cream maker in use a lot, I suspect.
11 April, 2011
Dreamscape
I had a dream a few days ago that was a bit strange. It was strange in a way that dreams rarely are; it wasn’t an oddity of locale, or of situation, rather, it was strange in a way I have never experienced before.
In my dream, my family and I were moving into a new house. It was amarvelous house, filled with teak cabinetry fitted out like an old ship, with wood paneled ceilings and walls. It felt cozy and warm, with the sense of peeking through a honey jar- all golden and glowing.
We were all separated, exploring our new home. I was peeking into the rooms, in love with the whole experience, planning where our furniture would be, imagining our future in this house. I was delighted to find out that the house didn’t just feel like a ship- it was a wonderful house-boat. I could even see an island through the porthole in one of the bedrooms.
I wandered happily in the house boat of my dream until I came to a certain door. The door was old wood, scarred and pitted. It was fitted with old copper hinges and an Arts and Crafts style latch, in the shape of a triangle. I lifted the latch and the door creaked open.
Inside, the walls were creamy plaster, a relief from all of the wood grain. It was a large bright walk in closet with a small stained glass window, a la Frank Lloyd Wright. There was a closet bar, with seven assorted men’s shirts hanging on wood hangers. I felt the well washed linen and cotton shirts, enjoying the coolness of the fabric. Just a few things, perhaps left by a former owner, I guessed. My breath caught in my throat as I looked around. On a peg hung an extraordinary tie rack- it was a complete work of art. The tie rack was a sort of golden, wooden hanger with a marvelous Arts and Crafts style motif, where the sumptuous silk ties ran through slits built into the design for that very purpose. It looked as though Frank Lloyd Wright had
gotten drunk and designed it as party trick.
It was the tie rack that gave birth to the very strange feeling that was the part of the dream I remembered best. I ran my fingers over the silk of the ties and began to wonder whose dream I had wandered into. The dream-reality didn’t fade, but the feeling and certainty grew- this was definitely not my own dream place, but someone else’s. Not my dream house-boat. Someone else’s own, personal dreamscape that I had happened upon. The delight in the house gave way to a feeling of trespass into something so personal, so intimate. I backed out of the closet and then I woke up.
I had such a strong sense of being an intruder in the dream, in my own dream place. I am still puzzled by it.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
In my dream, my family and I were moving into a new house. It was amarvelous house, filled with teak cabinetry fitted out like an old ship, with wood paneled ceilings and walls. It felt cozy and warm, with the sense of peeking through a honey jar- all golden and glowing.
We were all separated, exploring our new home. I was peeking into the rooms, in love with the whole experience, planning where our furniture would be, imagining our future in this house. I was delighted to find out that the house didn’t just feel like a ship- it was a wonderful house-boat. I could even see an island through the porthole in one of the bedrooms.
I wandered happily in the house boat of my dream until I came to a certain door. The door was old wood, scarred and pitted. It was fitted with old copper hinges and an Arts and Crafts style latch, in the shape of a triangle. I lifted the latch and the door creaked open.
Inside, the walls were creamy plaster, a relief from all of the wood grain. It was a large bright walk in closet with a small stained glass window, a la Frank Lloyd Wright. There was a closet bar, with seven assorted men’s shirts hanging on wood hangers. I felt the well washed linen and cotton shirts, enjoying the coolness of the fabric. Just a few things, perhaps left by a former owner, I guessed. My breath caught in my throat as I looked around. On a peg hung an extraordinary tie rack- it was a complete work of art. The tie rack was a sort of golden, wooden hanger with a marvelous Arts and Crafts style motif, where the sumptuous silk ties ran through slits built into the design for that very purpose. It looked as though Frank Lloyd Wright had
gotten drunk and designed it as party trick.
It was the tie rack that gave birth to the very strange feeling that was the part of the dream I remembered best. I ran my fingers over the silk of the ties and began to wonder whose dream I had wandered into. The dream-reality didn’t fade, but the feeling and certainty grew- this was definitely not my own dream place, but someone else’s. Not my dream house-boat. Someone else’s own, personal dreamscape that I had happened upon. The delight in the house gave way to a feeling of trespass into something so personal, so intimate. I backed out of the closet and then I woke up.
I had such a strong sense of being an intruder in the dream, in my own dream place. I am still puzzled by it.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
07 April, 2011
Not An SSK....
Ok, so here it is. I have no idea if this is something everyone else already does, but here it is anyhow.
Slip the first stitch to a Clover Locking Stitch Ring Marker, hold to the back. Slip the next stitch to the right hand needle. Slip the first stitch from the stitch marker back to the left needle. Then slip the second stitch back to the left needle. Knit both stitches together to the back loops.
Because an SSK is okay, but it doesn't really look like a match to a K2Tog. I am knitting a sweater for myself and the SSKs just looked so blergy. I like the way this looks a lot better. Maybe I will knit a swatch and add it to this post....
Slip the first stitch to a Clover Locking Stitch Ring Marker, hold to the back. Slip the next stitch to the right hand needle. Slip the first stitch from the stitch marker back to the left needle. Then slip the second stitch back to the left needle. Knit both stitches together to the back loops.
Because an SSK is okay, but it doesn't really look like a match to a K2Tog. I am knitting a sweater for myself and the SSKs just looked so blergy. I like the way this looks a lot better. Maybe I will knit a swatch and add it to this post....
06 April, 2011
Malentendu
There is a truth, universally acknowledged, that when my grandfather
sets his mind to something, he cannot be dissuaded.
I’ll rewind a bit. My grandfather decided to give my daughters a toy.
The toy in question was a bouncing rocking horse in a metal frame,
suspended from the frame with large metal springs, of a type no longer
manufactured. The reason it is no longer manufactured is that those
springs are extremely adept at catching little fingers and clothes and
hair. In short, it is decidedly dangerous.
He had offered the horse a few months ago and I declined, stating that
it was dangerous and I didn’t want it for the girls. He was patient.
He waited a month and asked again. I said no again, stating that I
really couldn’t afford the doctor’s bills, and would he kindly not ask
again.
On my oldest daughter’s birthday, he told me that his friend had a
gift for her, a rocking horse. I assumed he meant the horse in
question, and I was right. I told him that I would come by and look at
it (attempting to avoid an argument at my daughter’s birthday party),
so instead he brought the horse to my father’s house. An argument
ensued, with my father declaring the horse to be unsafe for children
to use. My grandfather left unhappy and my father was upset.
The next morning, my father and I discussed the matter and we have
decided on a course of action. The rocking horse is going to a better
place.
The dumpster at the marina.
sets his mind to something, he cannot be dissuaded.
I’ll rewind a bit. My grandfather decided to give my daughters a toy.
The toy in question was a bouncing rocking horse in a metal frame,
suspended from the frame with large metal springs, of a type no longer
manufactured. The reason it is no longer manufactured is that those
springs are extremely adept at catching little fingers and clothes and
hair. In short, it is decidedly dangerous.
He had offered the horse a few months ago and I declined, stating that
it was dangerous and I didn’t want it for the girls. He was patient.
He waited a month and asked again. I said no again, stating that I
really couldn’t afford the doctor’s bills, and would he kindly not ask
again.
On my oldest daughter’s birthday, he told me that his friend had a
gift for her, a rocking horse. I assumed he meant the horse in
question, and I was right. I told him that I would come by and look at
it (attempting to avoid an argument at my daughter’s birthday party),
so instead he brought the horse to my father’s house. An argument
ensued, with my father declaring the horse to be unsafe for children
to use. My grandfather left unhappy and my father was upset.
The next morning, my father and I discussed the matter and we have
decided on a course of action. The rocking horse is going to a better
place.
The dumpster at the marina.
30 March, 2011
A Few Words...
I just began reading Sarah Vowell's "Unfamiliar Fishes" today. She quoted Ernest Hemingway:
"In the morning there was a big wind blowing and the waves were running high up on the beach and he was awake a long time before he remembered that his heart was broken."
Just a few words to completely kick my ass.
"In the morning there was a big wind blowing and the waves were running high up on the beach and he was awake a long time before he remembered that his heart was broken."
Just a few words to completely kick my ass.
29 March, 2011
Loopy!
Peanut has a cold, an ear infection, and pink eye! Yikes!
The doc gave her some cough medicine and she and R had the following conversation:
Peanut: "How tall do I feel?"
R: "What?"
Peanut: "How tall you do you think I feel in my heart?"
R: "I think it's time for bed."
Um, yeah. Hopefully she'll be better soon.
The doc gave her some cough medicine and she and R had the following conversation:
Peanut: "How tall do I feel?"
R: "What?"
Peanut: "How tall you do you think I feel in my heart?"
R: "I think it's time for bed."
Um, yeah. Hopefully she'll be better soon.
16 March, 2011
There Should Be A Word For That
Although I generally feel that English is sufficient for my needs, sometimes the superior compound words of German make me feel a bit wistful. Today I felt the lack of an exact word to describe a really specific feeling. Here's the explanation of what happened. Wordsmiths, I need your assistance.
While carrying my littlest one, I stepped on an unexpected, unpeeled banana whilst wearing hand knit socks.
There are a couple of important things to consider here:
*I made the socks myself, so I wasn't exactly thrilled that they now had a sole of smushed banana on them.
*Where did this mystery banana come from?
*Why was it peeled?
*How do I live in a house that a random, unpeeled banana is camouflaged enough to escape detection?
On another note, Ms. Peanut told me that she needed to wear pants to bed. I inquired why, and she explained that she didn't want the nightmares to get her underwear. I inquired what she thought a nightmare was, and she replied that it was a scary monster that wants to pinch your butt. I said ok, I'll help you with those pants, she said thanks, and then she wandered off.
One last thing: Peanut also came out of her bed in tears to tell me that she had to wear green tomorrow because otherwise "THE GUYS WILL PINCH YOU, MOM". Ok, I said. I'll remember. She sighed in relief and went back to bed. This exchange made me wonder exactly what her preschool said this whole St. Patricks Day thing is about.
For another time, I need to remember to write about my favorite new thing to make a ton of- quick and super yummy bread, from Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day. While it is a little more time than that, I have been making a ton of things from this book and they have come out great. This week: light honey wheat loaves and white/wheat sourdough. More on this soon....
While carrying my littlest one, I stepped on an unexpected, unpeeled banana whilst wearing hand knit socks.
There are a couple of important things to consider here:
*I made the socks myself, so I wasn't exactly thrilled that they now had a sole of smushed banana on them.
*Where did this mystery banana come from?
*Why was it peeled?
*How do I live in a house that a random, unpeeled banana is camouflaged enough to escape detection?
On another note, Ms. Peanut told me that she needed to wear pants to bed. I inquired why, and she explained that she didn't want the nightmares to get her underwear. I inquired what she thought a nightmare was, and she replied that it was a scary monster that wants to pinch your butt. I said ok, I'll help you with those pants, she said thanks, and then she wandered off.
One last thing: Peanut also came out of her bed in tears to tell me that she had to wear green tomorrow because otherwise "THE GUYS WILL PINCH YOU, MOM". Ok, I said. I'll remember. She sighed in relief and went back to bed. This exchange made me wonder exactly what her preschool said this whole St. Patricks Day thing is about.
For another time, I need to remember to write about my favorite new thing to make a ton of- quick and super yummy bread, from Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day. While it is a little more time than that, I have been making a ton of things from this book and they have come out great. This week: light honey wheat loaves and white/wheat sourdough. More on this soon....
01 November, 2010
Many Happy Returns!
Happy birthday to my darling husband and my oldest friend. I lurve you both.
This is a picture of a ladybug fart. You're welcome.
This is a picture of a ladybug fart. You're welcome.
20 October, 2010
05 October, 2010
It Was a Dark and Moderately Rainy Tuesday...
Doesn't have the right ring to it, does it? The kids are asleep and here I am at my trusty keyboard, with nary an interesting tidbit to impart. I'm blocked a bit, I fear. I haven't been doing this as regular as I had hoped, and it seems hard to regain the habit somehow.
I've been knitting, a bit. I'm trying hard to finish a sweater I started last October before I reach the sweater-versary of DOOM. Well, not doom, perhaps. But I want to finish it off and I am therefore slogging along at it. I know that once I hit November it will be gift knitting for Christmas, so I want to finish something neat for myself before that comes.
I haven't been reading anything new and interesting, either- I just started re-reading the "Anne of Green Gables" books, which I hadn't read since I was a girl. What lovely books they are- it just makes me think that Canadians are so much better than us in so many ways. Dang it, Canada!
Hopefully something interesting will happen. You know, sometime. So I can tell you about it. In an interesting manner. Maybe with pictures. Or something!
I've been knitting, a bit. I'm trying hard to finish a sweater I started last October before I reach the sweater-versary of DOOM. Well, not doom, perhaps. But I want to finish it off and I am therefore slogging along at it. I know that once I hit November it will be gift knitting for Christmas, so I want to finish something neat for myself before that comes.
I haven't been reading anything new and interesting, either- I just started re-reading the "Anne of Green Gables" books, which I hadn't read since I was a girl. What lovely books they are- it just makes me think that Canadians are so much better than us in so many ways. Dang it, Canada!
Hopefully something interesting will happen. You know, sometime. So I can tell you about it. In an interesting manner. Maybe with pictures. Or something!
23 September, 2010
11 September, 2010
09 September, 2010
it was February just a moment ago...
I swear it was February just a moment ago... Wasn't it? I came home today to find that R had bought tiny pumpkins for the girls. Looking at the calendar, I finally noticed that this strange old summer's days really are numbered.
Given the way that it has gone, I am... not glad,.... but..... relieved that the summer will be over. This has been a hard year to bear for the ones I love.
I've been thinking about W. H. Auden lately....
"....The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood....."
It's been a hard year.
Given the way that it has gone, I am... not glad,.... but..... relieved that the summer will be over. This has been a hard year to bear for the ones I love.
I've been thinking about W. H. Auden lately....
"....The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood....."
It's been a hard year.
26 January, 2010
Blerg.
Do you ever have one of those parenting moments where something you said comes back just a little twisted and so much more funny? I did, this week. (Background: I am apparently often telling Peanut how pretty she is when she sees herself in a mirror. I did not realize this).
I am wiping off the condensation of my side view mirror on the way to dropping the girls off at the 'sitter's house. Peanut sees me and asks me what I am doing. I reply, "I'm wiping off the mirror so I can see the other cars".
She replies, "So you can see how pretty they are?"
Um, sure.
I am wiping off the condensation of my side view mirror on the way to dropping the girls off at the 'sitter's house. Peanut sees me and asks me what I am doing. I reply, "I'm wiping off the mirror so I can see the other cars".
She replies, "So you can see how pretty they are?"
Um, sure.
24 January, 2010
A Brief Moment
Between work, the children, the craziness of this week, I realized that this month is coming to a close. One of my resolutions this year is to post a little more frequently here, so here I am, typing as the baby smears peanut butter on her head and says "babababababababa" as she smiles at me and as Peanut eats her toast and stops to check on her new goldfish (named Dorothy, thanks Elmo).
Since Flickr just sucked all my free time, here is a quick pic for a Sunday:
Have a good week.
Since Flickr just sucked all my free time, here is a quick pic for a Sunday:
Have a good week.
07 January, 2010
Presque Vu
I'm a little late, but I have been thinking all week about the title for this post. It's a French phrase, that, according to the internet (and you know how accurate that is) means something like the English phrase "tip of my tongue", or as one definition wrote, "on the brink of epiphany", or yet another, "almost seen".
It's a phrase that I love, for it is pregnant with possibility. How could you not love the idea of "almost seen"?
The girls are asleep for once, and I am pondering what this new year may hold for my little family. Since Punky's birthday ends our years now, I think I am paying more attention to way our time is passing. The little ones grow unceasingly and (almost) unbearably quickly. I move more slowly and feel a bit more creaky.
So, I am trusting in optimism this year. That is my one resolution. I am giving in to hope. I am choosing to believe that this young new year will treat us all well this year, that good health will hold, old friends will reappear (here's looking at you, Boo), and that we will end this year better people than when we began it.
Cheers!
It's a phrase that I love, for it is pregnant with possibility. How could you not love the idea of "almost seen"?
The girls are asleep for once, and I am pondering what this new year may hold for my little family. Since Punky's birthday ends our years now, I think I am paying more attention to way our time is passing. The little ones grow unceasingly and (almost) unbearably quickly. I move more slowly and feel a bit more creaky.
So, I am trusting in optimism this year. That is my one resolution. I am giving in to hope. I am choosing to believe that this young new year will treat us all well this year, that good health will hold, old friends will reappear (here's looking at you, Boo), and that we will end this year better people than when we began it.
Cheers!
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