June is basically the best month of the year:- My birthday
- Summer solstice
- Popsicle week
- See number one
June is basically the best month of the year:
A strong case of seasonal nostalgia sits in these warmer days and long, sun-lingering evenings. Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about summers growing up at my childhood home. There are, of course, lots of paths I could take down memory lane, but one thing that strikes me most right now, is that we always had people over.
Hi, hello! It’s me! I’ve been quiet on here for a variety of reasons, but the main one is that I gave up gluten last August. I just haven’t really found inspiration in my newly gluten-free kitchen, and I’ve been leaning heavily on recipes from experts who’ve been doing this gluten free life a lot longer than I have.
It’s been a rough week over here. Evan and I were just on vacation in Maui, celebrating our 3rd wedding anniversary. When we left Seattle, I was still wearing sandals, and when we got back a week later, from the sunniest, beachiest vacation, it was full on Seattle fall. All the rain. All the wind. All the chilly chill temps. Luckily that also means all the unbelievable fall colors (seriously I can hardly stand how beautiful the trees are right now), and all the fall treats… which brings us to the annual Virtual Pumpkin Party (the best fall food event!), hosted by Sara from Cake Over Steak... and this here curry situation!
It’s Wit and Vinegar’s WORLD FAMOUS POPSICLE WEEK! The hottest (yet, chilliest/chillest) week of the year! Check out the 2017 popsicle week page for a plethora of pops. Some are covered in toasted marshmallow (!), some are made with pudding, others are boozy and fruity, a few have chunks of cake in them. And this, my friends, is mine: The Passionate Palmer Pop™.
My dad occasionally visits me in my dreams. In the beginning, I had these dreams much more frequently. They’re so vivid and real, he’s so vivid and real, that in the rawness of fresh grief, they were devastating to wake from. My dad has been gone almost three years (this August) and while I still wake tearful, with the scar of loss newly opened once more, his dream visits have started to feel like something else. Like a gift. Like an extra, stolen moment of time I get to spend with my dad, however fleeting.
Let me be clear: this is not a Mother’s Day post (sidenote, happy Mother’s Day, mom!). This recipe isn’t for Mother’s Day. You can, of course, make it for a mom, but you can also make it for yourself (you can enjoy it even if you’re a dad, a cat-mom, a dog-mom, a non-binary non parent, an LGBTQ teen, a single dude who loves video games, a dude married to a dude, a woman in a long-term relationship who may or may not want to get married and has decided she doesn't want kids, a pregnant lady, a DINK couple, etc!), and you can also make your mom a big spicy pan of enchiladas if that’s what she’s into. Because moms, like all human women (and like all of the humans mentioned above, plus more... all the humans, even!), are complex creatures who don’t fit into one mold.