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4.16.2014

The Great Cookie Fiasco of 2014.



I'm not sure what happened. The dough was delicious but the first batch I baked, burnt completely. The other turned out part burnt, part mushy. On the third I felt so defeated I just dumped a bunch of dough on the cookie sheet to see what would happened.
And do you know what? It came out looking like a cow pie.
The final batch I'm not sure about because I gave up and threw it in the trash.
I took a bite of one of these "cookies" and promptly spit it out.
And I never spit out my food.
This kind of sums up that whole day. Nothing went right, and everything tasted like like a dirty sock.
I almost never want to make cookies again.
Almost.
My love for cookies might get me back in the kitchen again someday.

Probably tomorrow.

4.07.2014

Slightly Green Thumb

Every summer, our little family would pack up the car and head to Nibley, Utah to see our grandparents and cousins and aunts and uncles and have a grand time. We would pull up to our grandparents house after dark, walk in through the garage, have some bread and butter and go to bed. Lyndsey and I would trade off sleeping on the narrow settee and the twin mattress we'd lay out in the living room. Sometimes we would cram on the mattress and fall asleep to the deep melodic snores coming from our grandma, who always slept in her chair. She stopped sleeping in with grandpa because....he snored. Haha.
Everyday I'd play outside with my sister in the irrigation ditch that ran alongside the yard. I'd watch my grandpa garden in the back of the house. He'd tell me which were the peas and which were the carrots because a little city kid like me surely couldn't tell the difference. Grandma would help us shell the peas or I'd help water the yard, which usually ended with me just laying on the ground with the hose on me because it was so hot. A kid born and raised in the bay area is a pansy in anything over 71°.
My favorite part was watching the plants grow.
When my grandpa was done with his work, he'd come inside, share some squeaky cheese and force me to eat sweet onions like an apple. He'd walk back into the laundry room and stare at his garden.
"Can't you see the carrots growing?"
I swore I saw them sprout out of the ground.
I love gardening.
I love getting dirt on my hands.
I love being outside and watching the plants grow.
Someday, I'll have my very own yard and won't be so limited as to what I can do.
I will grow carrots and peas and I will sit the middle of my yard and watch them grow.