Those images from France felt exotic because they are. To be fair, pictures from the Target in Saratoga would feel exotic these days. Travel is something I can’t do and do not do. I recently joined some dating sites and let me tell you, travel is the one thing every single man and woman out there says they are looking for in a partner. Not one person said, "I'm looking for a Smial." Which is frustrating, as I give great Smial.
Forget Target, some days even driving to visit a friend seven miles away is out of the question if weather is bad, gas money is tight, or the farm’s needs are more pressing than my social needs. You can’t tell a pregnant goat to hold it in while you meet friends at the train depot for drinks.You can't leave for a movie marathon and hot tub when it's -6 degrees and your house is heated by a domesticated fire in the corner of the living room.
My choices have given me a freedom my college self's wildest dreams couldn't believe. I wake up with the kind of agency of time that seems criminal its so my own. Without a spouse or kids, my day is 100% dedicated to my farm, my income, and my passions. It's a dream and one I work damn hard to live as my daily reality but it's also my nightmare. Having all this is only possible because it's selfish as hell. If I ever want to incorporate any other human being's life into it; it means big changes. I'm okay with changes in the name of love. I'm not okay with them in the name of boredom or everyday companionship.
There was a time I felt the need to write in defense of farming and my choices when I saw peers experiencing their own. There was a time I’d wax poetic on the simple joys of staying in one place and the wealth that surrounds a life of gardens, saddles, and Sunday roasts. I wrote those things because I did believe them, but also because of guilt. The guilt that I was more interested in feeling safe and nesting than traveling. I will forever be the dog circling three times before lying down. That act itself is my spirit animal. And as a young(ish), worldly,woman the guilt of staying put feels like a chosen ignorance at times. Young people are supposed to want coffee in Paris. They are supposed to envy passport stamps and towel delivery services. Yet here I am, alone on a mountain, content washing lamb butts. So to those out there considering a Woginrich in their futures, know this:
Have Smial. Will Travel.*
*Eventually, and for love and hunger.
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Icons are our benchmarks, touchstones and foundations. As we work through Stella Park's amazing book, BraveTart, Iconic American Desserts, I was immediately drawn to the Oatmeal Creme Pies. This required me to make the Marshmallow filling, which led me to the Cool Whip variation of the marshmallow creme. Stella and I had a conversation about dipping cookies in cool whip as kids--I used soft Archway oatmeal cookies and she preferred chocolate cookies. I immediately thought of whoopie pies and knew I would be making this sooner rather than later. Today when I made the creamy "cool whip" from her book, it naturally went with chocolate cake. And I've even got some left over so that later I can make her oatmeal cookies without the filling and recreate my childhood memory.
"You'd think cake would be apolitical, and yet here we are," says one of several D.C.-area pastry chefs who wrought their support for gay marriage into elaborate wedding cakes.
(Image credit: Kelly Jo Smart/NPR)
If you're having a RUFF morning, Mi Cofi cafe in Taiwan is sure to put a smile on your face. The Café has taken latte art to a whole new level by using frothy milk, chocolate and a bit of patience to create the uncanny creations. Since posting pictures online the cafe has been flooded with photographs and requests from people hoping to see their beloved pet staring up at them from their morning cuppa.
Via: Caters News