I’ve been a little bit proud and a lot bit celebratory this week as I approach my two-year writing anniversary on October 16th. This is, of course, not marking the moment when I first began writing, but it is the day when I committed to publishing a piece of new writing at least once each week. My brand new husband and I had moved halfway across the country only a couple of weeks earlier. We didn’t have internet in our home yet, so I went to a nearby Panera, took a deep breath, and created my . . .
I had a highly anticipated (by me) post set to go out to you this week but, in light of the recent events, the timing doesn’t feel appropriate. That piece can wait because today and this week my mind is on Las Vegas. You may have seen my initial response to the shooting posted on social media. I’m trying to be really intentional about living into my words, leaving the house with a real awareness of who is around me and how I am helping them to feel seen and respected. I met a new neighbor . . .
It was a typical early Wednesday morning in our home. I was sitting on the couch with the dog, watching the TODAY show and catching up on emails (a work-from-home perk). Suddenly, I heard some wild commotion coming from the kitchen. My husband, a beautiful and even-tempered man, was not happy. I stood up and headed towards him to see the offense: our typically white kitchen was now mostly green. A very vibrant green. Two days ago, my husband and I were cooking dinner together and I made . . .
I hate peas. There, I said it. I cannot stand peas. I think they are disgusting, both on their own and mixed with other ingredients in a dish. A few weeks ago, I made a recipe that called for peas. Being the rule follower that I am, I bought a bag of peas and included them in the dish. That evening, while having dinner with my husband, I was complaining incessantly about how much the peas were ruining my entire culinary experience. “Why did you include them in the recipe?” My logical . . .
Several weeks ago, I had my first conversation with a literary agent. A real literary agent! She had contacted me, inviting an introductory phone call, and I was just beside myself with excitement. I spent hours researching her and her agency before gathering questions and talking points for our call. When it came time to speak with her, I couldn’t have felt more prepared. The conversation was wonderful; we connected well within a steady flow of thoughtful questions and storytelling. If you . . .
My husband and I found our new favorite chicken wings. You guys, I cannot describe to you how good these things are. They are char-grilled and perfect. We went to get them this weekend; every time we go, I think they're probably not going to be as good as I remember. And EVERY TIME THEY ARE AS GOOD AS I REMEMBER. Now, this is not a piece entirely about chicken wings, but I needed to start somewhere and what better place to start than chicken wings? The chicken wings restaurant is Pies & . . .