We go together like...


Being an adult can really suck sometimes.  Sure it's great that we get to own a home, have amazing kids, and make our own dentist appointments (yayyyyy), but being an adult also means we have to make like, real life adult decisions.  And we are definitely at the point in our lives where we see our dear friends make the decision to move home to be closer to family. 

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Shakshuka it Up

Tygh and I have often have weird work schedules.  From call hours to shift changes, our schedules are rarely 8-5pm.  Which means the 2-kid dinner rush is sometimes endured as a single parent.  

I can't complain too much because neither of us travels significantly for work or is gone more than a night or two per week, so we always more than manage.  But still, after a long day, getting through the witching hour alone is enough to make me want to pour bowls of cereal for everyone and call it good (I've only done that a few times, I swear).

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Heart and Sole

Over the 20-some years (for reals) Tygh and I have been together, he has gotten me some truly thoughtful gifts.  Some have been bigger, monumental items, while others have been little tokens he's found randomly that he knew I would like.  He is the definition of a great gift giver because he almost always chooses things I want, but wouldn't necessarily splurge on for myself. 

He's also not stupid.  Meaning, if he has a chance to buy me a gift he knows I will love, but from which he will also benefit, he goes all out.  Think: sports gear, dinner dates, nights away, bedroom, uh, decor, etc.

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So Summer Goes

Remember how, when you were a kid, summer was like this separate part of your life?  Like, there was the regular life of the school year, and then there was summer?  And it seemed to go on FOR-EH-VRRRR????

There is this huge part of me that still feels like that - or at least entitled to that.  Like, I should have been born in France and come July 14th, been allowed to vacate for 6 weeks every summer.  Congress would have been an alternative, I guess, but then you'd have to be in Congress.  What is it about summer that just makes me feel a little lighter on my feet, a little more inclined to ignore bedtimes and definitely more than happy to eat all manner of cold food?

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A Wonderful Fruit

Admittedly, we eat a lot of beans in our house.  I’ve only posted a few bean recipes, but that’s because I have to spread ‘em out so you can ease into flatulence at your own pace.  However, I’ve got dozens of favorites – bean salads, bean soups, baked beans, roasted beans – and, in an effort to spare you one of my rhetorical anecdotes, I want to share with you one of them that is near and dear.

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It's A Casserole, Sheila!

So, if I'm being honest, I'm not a big fan of spaghetti squash.  Mostly because I don't have a lot of respect for something trying to be something it's not, and, even then, not being very good at it.  Plus, like all squashes, its a fucking PAIN to prepare because you never know if you might lose a limb trying to cut into it.

But, in an effort to help one of my besties, I went to work on trying to find a way to make spaghetti squash edible, nay, pleasurable.   I was pretty pleased with my results, until I tried to come up with a name for it and quite frankly, I couldn't without lying to you about what it really is.  

And, I'm not going to lie to you.  

It's a casserole.

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