The Ree’son I’m So Giddy

 

 

Okay… I don’t even know where to begin other than just admitting – straight up – that I’m a fan-girl.  A big PW fan-girl.  If you’re in the know, then you know who I’m talking about.  If not, you will be. 

 

I’m not much for entering in whatever flavor of the moment contests or drawings the world-wide web has to offer, that’s not me.  There is always a borderline healthy and yet sometimes tragic veil of doubt swirling like water vapor off of a piping hot cup of cocoa in whatever I do.  The space between humility and the ugly truth is hard to find.  It’s good, it’s not-so-good, better try again, give it up and girl… this just sucks. 

 

I’ve been really busy on the photography side of things, sessions that I haven’t posted are backlogged and will probably not make it – at least on this site.  There has been a recent upward swing of downs lately that I was really lost in the thick of it, a shower room of doubt and frustration if you will.  Prints gone poopy, calibration chaos and enough techno-acronym babble to make the opthamalically blessed go cross-eyed with a slight tick of Tourettes.

 

I happened to be in a que sera, sera attitude the other night and while visiting one of my usual haunts I decided to send in two submissions to PW’s Holiday Bokeh  photo pool knowing that my two little shots would be in a virtual sea of thousands of wonderful work I only hope of someday attaining.  “There, it is done” and I went on my merry way.

 

Saturday evening I got a chance to sneak away and peek online.  This is what I found.

 

 

 

 

It was an after Christmas, Christmas present.  Miz commented on my picture…  wow!  Miz, PW’s photo cohort and snap-happy extraordinaire.  I couldn’t believe it!  I love her style and practical, vanilla explanations of spumoni that any ice cream lover can understand and appreciate without the use of an “Everyday Italian” dictionary.  Wow…

 

This evening I got another unexpected wow.  WOW! 

 

That’s me!!  On Ree’s site, The Pioneer Woman herself,  flanked by a gingerbread boy and sleeping beauty.  My leaf bokeh I took in the backyard after our sledding trip.  Just a snap and other than the fact I liked it, I never thought anything more.  Utterly breathtaking!  No way.  NO WAY….  See, I’m giddy.  Full-on, valley girl, OMGosh, about to burst giddy. 

 

Just thought I’d tell you… 

A Little Rosy

 

 

 

 

This year I didn’t seem to get the gumption nor the time to bake all the usual goodies that I usually do.  Sure, my thighs appreciate it, but that’s about it.  No Almond Roca cookies, no sugar cookies, no fudge or Russian tea cakes.  Forget the home-made hot buttered rum mix, almond joys, toffee, lemon and seven layer bars – just forget it. 

 

Earlier this year I picked up a couple of rosette irons and molds in their original, 1960’s something box with instructions and various recipes.  I remember going over to Aunt Karen and Uncle Gordon’s Christmas parties and having these and other yummy treats.  (Fried mushrooms, prawns, zucchini, cheese sticks and the list goes on.)   In fact, I remember getting a “grown-up” truffle on year…   shh, don’t tell.

 

Christmas was officially packed up and in the attic by six o’clock in the evening of the 26th and this morning I was bound and determined to get some very neglected house work and laundry done, that is until I walked in the pantry and saw the faded boxes.  Chef Tell, a proud user of Nordicware products pictured on the front – afro and all, whispered in my ear, “Laundry sucks, make cookies instead.”   Curse you Chef Tell.  I made the cookies. 

 

Honestly, I thought it was a good way to remember Uncle Gordon who passed away this fall. Devin enjoyed tapping the stuck-on cookies off the mold and all the Farmers devoured them with or without the sugar.  I think I might have to add them to my Christmas goodie repertoire next year.