Homemade

This week we mixed it up a bit with some breakfast for dinner. I was so in the mood for blueberry pancakes. Mmm.
I am getting addicted to HEB Plus. It's 3/4 HEB, 1/4 Central Market, and that is just enough organic for me! If it were all Central Market I would feel like I was turning into one of those yoga-doing, organic-cotton-wearing, green-living yuppies.
Plus, I keep hearing all these news stories that are exposes (I don't know how to make an accent mark over the e?) on the supposedly "Organic grocery stores." Just how organic are they???
Some day I will live in my quaint little house and grow a garden with all the organic food my little heart could ever desire. But until then, HEB Plus! here I come!


Cooking is becoming so delightful to me. I like gathering all the ingredients, following a recipe, and seeing everything come together in the end. It is so easy to get discouraged, but I am determined to get better! I want to understand what it means to "cut in" and "fold" and "whisk." Thanks to Betty Crocker and my mother I'm getting there. Slowly but surely.
Working part-time again contributes a lot to my growth as a cook. I have time in the quiet mornings to flip through the pages of cookbooks and read through recipes.
I'm trying to be more "self-sufficient," not always relying on purchasing something to solve a problem. Recently I designed myself a little calendar book because ever since my mom moved away I have missed every single birthday, anniversary, etc. of everyone I know. It's not because I don't care, I actually just don't know the dates. I went searching for calendars and day planners and hated every single one I picked up. They just weren't me!
So I made one that was me.

Organization has never been one of my strengths, but just like I've been forming the habit of running 15-20 miles a week, so shall I form this habit. Add decluttering to that list as well. I hate clutter, and it is everywhere right now.

Sorry this is the most boring post of all time. Perhaps soon I'll write a thoughtful post, I can feel it welling up in my mind, ready to spill over at any moment.

P.S. There's a girl at work who, instead of saying "thanks" always says "tanks." Always. To make matters worse she says it in a high pitched voice, as if she's talking to a baby. Only--here's the catch--there aren't any babies at work.
Every time she says it I get a strong urge to stand up and swing my arms across the surface of her desk, knocking pens, papers, and a variety of other office supplies to the floor, causing utter chaos.
Weekend, come quickly.