You know that feeling when you drag yourself up from the depths of a particularly realistic dream only to stumble through your house like a stranger? Bathed in the buttery glow of early morning, the rooms are all the same: there’s salt in the pig, dust on the turntable. The down pillows on the sofa are dented just so (hi-YAH!) — and yet you turn down the hallway with fresh eyes, taking it all in the way you would when the light blinks green and the door swings open to a freshly turned hotel suite. It’s refreshing and disorienting and quietly intoxicating all … Read More
spiced summer squash quickbread (gf)
I set out intending to leave this post free of any mammary references, but then I went for my first postpartum jog the other day and realized that HOLY JESUS Running With Boobs Hurts Like The Dickens and it just didn’t feel right keeping the lid on such an epiphany, so there goes that. And to think I actually wanted these things back in high school. Ouch. Also, how uncomfortable is the word mammary? I’m having mixed feelings about it, mostly because every time I hear it I picture whales swimming around with little storybook clusters of bubbles floating about, because obvi whales are … Read More
mini meyer lemon cannoli cream tartlets
You guysssszsszzz! Mother’s Day is this weekend!! Somehow that means it’s FREAKING MAY ALREADY. Yikes. And new this year: I totally get to participate in MoDay stuffies as a momma. Yikes Part 2. Or maybe Yay Part 1? Because crudsmugglers, this whole parenting thing is spectacularly spectacular in the full-blown, John Leguizamo-as-The-Magical-Sittar kind of way. It’s at once beautiful and terrifying and easier and harder than I ever imagined and the last two weeks have passed in what I can only describe as a state of quasi-hypnosis. I’ve never been more fixated on another living thing. I’ve never been more fixated on … Read More
friday links 04.17.15
Happy Friday, loves! The haps, the haps, what’s the haps. Let’s seeeeeeee… I’m pretty sure I’m in labor at least once every five minutes. We oxy cleaned our sheets last night, and it’s not like they look any different, but I feel like they must be so, sooooo clean, because Billy Mays wouldn’t do me wrong, you know? I want to eat everything ever made with potatoes, melted cheese or pastrami. (The latter two drove my desire for this ridic Reuben Mac, which I have eaten for breakfast thrice this week.) We installed a carseat and I only hyperventilate a little … Read More
mochiko chicken tacos with tangy umeboshi mayo
The diapers have been ordered. The hospital bag has been packed (and repacked). The freezer, as you well know by now, is at capacity. Dare I say we’re ready? It’s incredible, really, the things you can find to pass the time when it seems any moment could be the last moment that you’re this exact person. You know, before you become that person — that next iteration of yourself that is somehow you and yet not at all you because suddenly there exists a tiny little bugaboo of a human that only knows this new you and nothing else. Rambling incoherently to a questionable quantity … Read More