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Kief and the garden

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Have I told you lately how wonderful my roommate is? Oh…you mean I haven’t even told you about her? Well, allow me!

Kief is beautiful, quiet, smart, sensitive, loyal, faithful, funny (she will surprise you), grounded, servant if there ever was one, and classy. She watches things with the eyes of wisdom and chooses to believe the best…even when it hurts. She lives in grace. Aaaaand she has the BEST blonde curly hair you ever saw!

When I bought my home in November 2010, Kief was the first friend I asked to move in with me. We hadn’t known each other all that long, but our friendship had already begun to form a special bond.

I remember going to Central Market when I returned from a missions trip to Greece to meet up with Kief. She told me then that while she wanted to move in, the timing wasn’t right. From then on, I would tease her (probably too often) about the day she was supposedly going to move in with me.

That day finally arrived after about a year. December 1st, Kief became Roomie to me. What a joy it’s been!

I just celebrated my 25th birthday this past Monday, the big QC (Quarter Century)! I returned from a girls trip with Lovey to see Minda Ann in Tallahassee, FL (more to come on that) to Kief who told me to go in the other room. Um, bossy lately?! ;-) She eventually brought out this BEAUTIFUL orchid plant that she bought from one of my favorite stores (you’ll never guess!).

Cube Shelf

But that wasn’t all, ladies and gentlemen! She also got me THIS!

Mother of all Gardening Magz

You may have heard I’m planting my first garden this year. This magazine has answered almost all of the questions I hadn’t had time to research yet:

What can grow in shade?

What are some alternative planting methods?

When do I plant which fruit or veggie?

Then there’s pure inspiration…one day, one day.

Dream Garden

My creative juices are pumpin’ right now – let’s hope they translate to a green thumb!

Le marché des agriculteurs

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Just up the way is a darling little farmer’s market. Each time I enter, my heart palpitates a bit. It’s like stepping into the very charm of country life. A local farmer actually tended his garden until it produced a harvest. It wasn’t shipped or imported. Somehow, that makes the experience more authentic. Ah…that’s it. It’s the authenticity and the old-fashioned format that make the Farmer’s Market my heart go pitter-pat.

Plump, vine-ripened tomatoes.

Resplendent citrus and avacado. Vibrant, leafy greens.

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Mmmm. A full bounty.

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I plan to plant my first garden in the next few weeks. My roomie’s dad is coming to help us build the planters. Soon, I will have my own farmer’s market in my backyard. Yippee!

What do you think I should plant?!

Stick to your guns, @Nordstrom!

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I was taken aback when I heard that Nordstrom refused to deck the halls for Christmas before Thanksgiving.

Say, whaaaaat? A retailer standing their ground? Staying true to their beliefs and values? What about the competition?!?!?

That deserved a tweet:

“For this reason alone, I would (and probably will) shop @Nordstroms. BRAVO!!! http://consumerist.com/2009/11/nordstrom-continues-to-oppose-christmas-creep.html

I would like Mr. Nordstrom to know that I fulfilled my promise. I bought Anson Garςon a pair of TOMS ‘Classic’ Plaid Slip-On shoes for Christmas.

If I could talk with Mr. Nordstrom, I would tell him:

“Sir, I bypassed the discount at my place of employ (we’re going old-school here, people!) just so I could shop with you. Why? Because you, unlike many other retailers, upheld the sanctity of the sacred Thanksgiving holiday in this country by reserving Christmas decorations for…well…Christmas! And it was my pleasure to do business with you.”

Three cheers for @Nordstrom!

What’s better than bacon for breakfast?

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What’s better than bacon for breakfast?

Great question! I don’t know. But if you layer it with sweet potatoes, cheese, bread and eggs…it makes deliciousness!

I called Mother Dearest a couple weeks ago, asking her if she knew of any addictive, scrumptious breakfast recipe I could use for work. I was, after all, displaying my domestic diva-ness to all my co-workers. It had to be a winner.

Thankfully, Mother Dearest came through. I’ve made this recipe twice now (I changed it a bit from mi madre’s), and it’s been exactly what I hoped: addictive.

Let’s face it though, what’s not addictive about bacon?

Enjoy! (Sorry there’s no picture!!)

Bacon Sweet Potato Breakfast Casserole

INGREDIENTS
6-8 slices of white or light wheat bread
1 cup (or more) of shredded cheese
1 lb bacon
1/2 sweet potato
10 eggs
1/2 cup milk
Pepper, salt, and a 1/4 packet of ranch dressing seasoning

PREP
Pre-heat the oven to 350 degrees
Cook the bacon until slightly crisp
Cut the crust off the bread
Slice the sweet potato in thin round slices
Whisk the eggs and milk together thoroughly, including the seasoning

INSTRUCTIONS
Layer the pieces of bread into the bottom of a 9×13″ pan so it’s entirely covered
Sprinkle the cheese evenly over the bread
Layer the cooked bacon on top
Layer the sliced sweet potato evenly on top
Pour the whisked eggs evenly over all the layers
Sprinkle more cheese on top (if desired)
Leave it in the fridge overnight
Bake at 350 degrees for one hour the following day

Whiteboard Art: A Series

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I draw on her whiteboard. She says I should get my own, yet she knows if I had my own that I wouldn’t be nearly as inspired to draw on it. It’s much more fun to draw on hers.

Her name is Noel, aka Noelita the Eraser. She erases everything I draw. She has no mercy.

No mercy unless, of course, the sketch pertains to her. She seems to be more lenient in her erasing policy: Gone in 24 hours. This one lasted for 48!

She thought Leo was weird. I found him adorable. He barely lived to see the sun.

Noelita actually commissioned this work. She was looking forward to deep dish goodness!

(This was another cube-mates out-of-office sign. I couldn’t help myself, so I transitioned momentarily to post-it notes. I say spread the drawing doodle cheer!)

This technically isn’t a stiletto. I don’t care.

I challenged myself to draw my friend’s business logo from memory.


Noelita couldn’t help herself: She drew the mitt.

This absurd creature can barely be called a cat, but it made Noelita  laugh in hysterics nonetheless. I think it was the earring that pushed her over the edge.

Noelita doesn’t erase as much anymore. She became an enabler when she joined the fun and started drawing. She didn’t erase this Thanksgiving doodle for a week! (It’s because she added the bee, I just know it!)

We are now onto Christmas sketches. Ah, a partridge in a pear tree…

Rest assured there will be more to come on Noelita’s whiteboard! I wish you a whiteboard art series of your own this Christmas season.

Did you want tea with your coconut?

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I started to make my own iced tea from scratch. I boiled a pot of water, letting all five Lipton tea bags steep good and long.

Not one to leave things plain, I got the itch to doctor it up. A dash of almond extract and a handful of dried coconut flakes, this tea was on its way from rags (hello, $0.50 Lipton) to riches! Perfect Sunday afternoon treat.

I grabbed my colander to strain the coconut out of the tea. Pour, pour, pour….STRAIGHT DOWN THE SINK!

By the time the synapses in my brain realized what I was doing, the tea was halfway gone.

So, I had some very nice coconut flakes infused with tea. So gourmet.

A little inspiraçion

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My sweet friend, Miss Jenna Beth, asked me to write a guest post for her *super adorable, very on-trend* blog. Check out the fall fashion inspiration here!

PS. Menfolk, it’s deep wading in the waters of the e(strogen) pool. Consider yourself warned!

Scottish Love

I should like to show ya the derndest pup that e’er stole me heart.

Angus, me love, you er the cutest!

(I almost stole him from my friend’s dad!)

In the nick ‘o time

I sent this to my wonderful friend, Minda Ann, for her blog series on faithfulness. (You want to be encouraged? GO READ HER STORY!) I thought I’d share it here too. Enjoy!

Time was running out. This was the last weekend before I had to sign a contract of some kind. I had been doing what I knew to do, but nothing was coming through. Weekend after weekend, day after day…nothing. I knew God had put this search on my heart, but didn’t He know that this was cutting it a *little* close?

On Memorial Day 2010, I asked Padre out on a breakfast date. Conversation flowed over coffee and massive IHOP omelets. At some point, the conversation turned to what I was going to do when my time with Lovey, ended that October. I told Padre that I think God wanted me to look for a house. I had, after all, written that as one of my goals that year: Buy a house in November. I don’t know why I picked November. It just suited. Padre was all on-board with that. He said, “Didn’t you tell us that you wanted to buy a home after 2-3 years of living in DFW?” And the lightbulb in my memory went off – Yes, I had said that! Totally forgot about it, until that moment. So with his blessing, I started to walk with the Lord on a journey to find a home.

I went into house after house, dreaming of what it could become. I didn’t know what I could ask for in a first home. I didn’t want to sound like a picky first-time home buyer. I just told my realtor that I wanted to live in Fort Worth, and if at all possible, I wanted wood floors and good windows. In my heart of hearts, though, I had a ton of ideas on what I’d like. I painted that picture in full detail: a mosaic backsplash in the kitchen, white cabinets, a gas stove, a roof that was in good shape, dark-stained hardwood floors, three bedrooms. The list went on! The Lord was the only person I told. I was grateful for whatever He gave me, so painting this picture was pure fun. My most secretest wish? A red door. A good red, not a cheap one. ;-)

Meanwhile, “normal life” was CUH-RAY-ZEEEEE! It was consumed with packing up Lovey’s and my apartment, painting it back with primer, scrubbing it down, moving into Lovey’s new house, helping her scrub and paint her new house, sewing a wedding dress for a friend somewhere in there, going to weddings, prepping for Lovey’s wedding, transitioning a brand new team at work, and doing regular everyday stuff to live. (My heart rate is increasing as I type. Excuse me while I hyperventilate!) I was tired and worn out. Time wasn’t waiting for me.

There was one townhome that had been in the picture for awhile. Great price, just remodeled, hardwood floors, appliances that came with it…but for whatever reason, something didn’t sit right with me. I figured that I needed to be more “open” lest I started missing the forest for the trees. Something had to happen that weekend to allow the month long processing time for escrow and such.

I didn’t know what to do. Desperate, I told the Lord, “Father, I have to find my house by this weekend to close in time. If You don’t show me something besides this townhome, I’m going to assume that You want me to put in a bid on it.” Wouldn’t you know that it had sold the day before!

Ummmm……Lord? You there? I obviously have to keep looking. But how am I going to “know” what house is the right one? Did I miss it? In that moment, He whispered, “You will know it when you see it.” Peace flooded my heart.

Back to Zillow.com I went. As I looked through the same houses I’d seen before, there was one that caught my eye. It was in Ft. Worth. Looked like it had a cute kitchen. The more I looked at the pictures, the more I thought, “Wow, this could be it!” I laughed, “But Lord, let’s be honest…I’ve said that before.” To which He replied, “You’ll know it when you see it…”

That Friday, on the LAST possible weekend, I met my realtor at the house I saw on Zillow. Guess what it had? A red door! I opened that darling (not cheap, but really deep) red door to find the picture in my heart sitting in front of me. I’m talking the backsplash to the gas stove to the new roof to the shade of the wood floors, people! I turned to my realtor, saying, “This is my house.” There wasn’t a doubt in my mind.

The first night in my new home was full of emotion. Weary from the intensity of the past months, I fell to my knees and balled on the kitchen floor. I was overwhelmed and awed at the miracles He did to show Himself faithful on my behalf, many of which I haven’t even mentioned in this post for the sake of length. It’s fun to talk about a red door and all, but really, it’s just icing on the cake. From the conversations He and I would have in the car, to the nights of crying out to Him for relief from life’s stress, to the moment when He whispered sweet assurance to my heart, to watching Him perform literal miracles…walking with Him is the greatest joy. His faithfulness is the greatest adventure. Seems He likes settin’ the stage for His glory! Just when I thought (and I thought it MANY times) He was cuttin’ it too close, it turns out He was really setting up my circumstances so that there’d be no doubt in my mind that HE did it!

(Oh, and remember how my goal was “Buy a house in November”? Well, because my closing date got pushed out twice, I closed November 5th!)

:) happy

Suzy Silent Stall

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I don’t remember what it was, but something tweaked me the other day. Someone said something to me, and I knew I was being overly sensitive. Touchy or not, I needed to get away for a couple of minutes to give myself a talking to – a “put your big girl pants on” speech.

I couldn’t do it at my grey cube smack dab in the middle of cube world.

I couldn’t do it in the mile-long hallway. After all, what if people saw me?

Aha! Why hadn’t I thought of it sooner?! The Ladies Room.

I opened the swinging bathroom door, making sure to put my hand above the mass of fingerprints by the handle. I had to make sure the coast was clear. It didn’t look like anyone was in there. It didn’t sound like anyone was in there. Shhhhh….wait….for a minute….ok. Clear!

I locked myself in a stall and began to talk myself through letting go of whatever silly little thing had gotten under my skin. Aloud.

“Grow up, Blondie. Grow up. It’s not that big of a deal.”

No sooner had the words left my mouth than…

*crinkle* *crackle* *scuff*

Noooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

I stopped breathing. I shook my head in disbelief. I had waited so long to listen for someone even breathing in the bathroom! How could I have missed the person in the stall in the corner?!

I certainly couldn’t leave now. Risk being seen? Identified? Caught in the act? No. I had to wait it out.

After a couple of minutes (well, probably more like seconds), I realized that Suzy Silent Stall wasn’t gonna leave either. Clint Eastwood’s showdown music whistled in the background: this would be a wait-it-out show down!

Time ticked on. We kept to our stalls. I started to sweat (not really, but it makes the story better). I had to get back to work, but what if at the exact moment I tried to escape Suzy Silent Stall came out? What would she say? Who would she be? If we saw each other, we would know what had happened forever. We could never look at each other the same way again.

Suddenly, as if the cube world angels knew my plight, the swinging entrance door with all its fingerprint glory started to open. Someone else entered the bathroom. This was my chance to escape.

I flushed the toilet for effect to let Suzy know I was leaving. My heart started racing. I slid the lock open, completely bypassed the sinks (too much risk), and darted out the door.

I got back to my desk, breathed, and whatever had bothered me disappeared.

Until we meet again, Suzy Silent Stall.

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