KING CAKE CINNAMON ROLLS ARE THE BEST WAY TO BEGIN YOUR FAT TUESDAY FESTIVITIES! FILLED WITH BROWN SUGAR, PECANS, AND A TINY BABY JESUS – THEY BOAST ALL THE CLASSIC FLAVORS OF TRADITIONAL KING CAKE!
I haven’t packed yet. I have to go to the bank. And the drug
store. And find the chord to my portable charger.
It feels so weird, after all the waiting and the planning
and the prepping, I’m finally on vacation starting tomorrow! And I’m so not
ready for it. Go figure.
Procrastination is a very near and dear friend of mine. It’s what I do. Stitched into the fabric of who I am. But! I was actually way ahead of the game with these cinnamon rolls. Like, crazy ahead. I first posted about them on January 16?! Just a few days after the beginning of Epiphany – when it’s all King Cake all the time.
This writing, posting, trying thing. It feels good.
Right. I’m in the zone, wrapped up in the flow. It’s a combination of therapy,
personal growth books, trusting my gut, and ignoring my fear. It’s also a touch
of CBD oil for the nerves and a good cry when necessary.
But I’m doing it all for this. Right here.
This perfectly flaky, ridiculously crispy, and delightfully easy Braided Apple Danish.
He agreed to stick with me through good times and bad, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health.
I don’t think he realized it wasn’t just my sickness or my health. It was also Edgar’s.
Earlier last week we took Edgar to the vet to get his vaccines updated and to get a little check-up. We hadn’t been to the vet since last summer when he jumped out of a first story window…and then a second story one…and then ate an entire batch of oatmeal raisin cookies. We’d racked up enough frequent flyer miles for the year. And aside from a having a dog whisper visit the house, he hadn’t required much follow-up care.
While we were there, we asked the vet to examine what we thought to be a hernia. I was told the little nickel-sized protrusion on the center of his ribs was just that when I adopted Edgar. “Happens all the time. Lots of dogs get them. If it doesn’t grow and doesn’t get hard, don’t worry about it.” For two years, it neither grew nor hardened. All was well with his undercarriage.
Then, while Seth and I were away on our mini-moon and my mom watched Edgar, it got a little bigger and a little darker. Not too much cause for concern, but if we were going to be at the vet, we may as well get it checked out. So, she drew fluid. And informed us it wasn’t a hernia but, was in fact a xiphoid cyst. And still absolutely nothing to worry about. It was simply bigger and darker because he’d bruised it. Ok, cool.
Aside from the very exciting announcement last week, it’s been quiet over here for the past two months. Some of that was due to planning a wedding in eight weeks instead of the remaining eight months, and some of that was because I’ve started a new job.
I’m still slinging beer and mopping floors, but now. NOW! Now I’m creating recipes, posts, and videos for Webster’s Marketplace, a local grocery store that pretty much feeds the entire town!
It’s not news around these parts that I listen to podcasts. Most of them related to Gilmore Girls or true crime.
However, sometimes I listen to ones that are as inspiring and they are humorous, as insightful as they are heinous. One such podcast was Off Camera with Sam Jones, the episode featured Jason Isbell. I listened to it months ago – in early spring – walking Edgar along the damp sidewalk in the morning mist.