Thursday, August 29, 2013

Strawberry Fields Forever

I’ve missed you guys.  Well, I guess not so much you guys, since to be honest pretty much the only person who talks to me here is Tara (my college roommate, my bridesmaid, my talk-me-down-from-a-ledge-at-work-on-gchat friend), but more so this space.  I miss the writing and the rereading and the figuring out how to best phrase the random thoughts in my head.  I definitely miss taking those thoughts and throwing them with little caution to the wind into the world wide web.

I was taking my walk around the parking lot at work the other day (I just may be that person at work, who walks at lunch...), when I made this realization that I miss the writing aspect of it all.  In honesty, this probably shouldn't have come as that much of a surprise, what with the myriad of multicolored post-its I have floating around my desk, my purse and my binder all with half started, potential blog posts on them.  Apparently I need an outlet for all the woo-ha in my head and staying away from here (mostly because I was getting sick of taking pictures of my food making) might not have been my wisest solution.

So, without really promising to be better about posting (because a sunny quick walk outside doesn't usually end up seriously changing behaviors), I just wanted to say hi and that I'm hoping to write here more.  Because I have missed it, missed you, whoever you are (hi, Tara!).  It might not be strictly about food, but I figure that a little bit of something is better than nothing.   

By the way, here are some pictures from our trip to Algoma.  Ben, myself, my parents and other assorted aunts, uncles and cousins, went up for a long weekend to my uncle’s house in Algoma, WI.  Amid sleeping on a hammock in the cool breeze, playing sand volleyball on the beach and drinking quite the myriad of local Wisconsin wines, we also went strawberry picking.  After about 30 minutes, a sore and slightly sunburned back and red stained hands, we ended up with 15 pounds of strawberries.  No joke.  FIFTEEN POUNDS.  And what did we make with these beautiful gems?  Jam?  Pies?  Strawberry shortcake?  Ha, people please.  They were devoured, every last tiny, sweet, red berry, as they were, needing only a rinse before finding their way to happy mouths everywhere.  (I won’t lie, a few might have snuck in before the rinsing…)  I will admit, we may have top a few with scoops of fresh whipped cream.  They didn't need it, but hell, we were on vacation people.  Live a little recklessly! 

PS - Turns out that the only lyric I know from Strawberry Fields Forever is in fact "strawberry Fields For-ever!"  And singing it over and over again is guaranteed to drive your fiance nuts.