Spring has sprung! (In my bedroom, anyway.)
The other day, Kendrick walked out of our garage and into our kitchen, all wide-eyed and horrified. In his hands were two (extremely cute, just saying) pillows, still all bundled up in plastic wrap.
"...Why?" he asked, holding them out at me like (electric orange, stunningly hand-stitched) sacrificial lambs.
This may just look like an Ikea daybed, but oh, it is so much more.
Remember how my friend Morgan has this magical ability to put together the actual, for-real, zero-exaggeration most comfortable bed in the world? Like, the kind of bed that I want to fall onto and then stay there forever and always because nothing has ever felt that good, ever? And remember how sometimes my children nevertheless come up with diabolical plans to stop me from sleeping anyway?
SHE DID IT AGAIN.
Cactus leaf
Let me start this post with a caveat: unless you are already at least somewhat into juicing and used to buying copious quantities of fruits and vegetables and leafy things (or are a blogger trying to make something cool to write about, ahem), you are probably going to have to leave the cactus out of this recipe if you're ever going to actually make it. Because let me tell you: de-spining a cactus leaf is no small job, and I have a very sad finger right now to prove it.
You might, at this point, be asking yourself what I am doing holding a cactus in the first place, let alone trying to drink it. Because I've been pretty clear about the fact that, try as I might, I am not a green juice person. I pick up a couple of pre-made bottles in Whole Foods from time to time when I'm feeling guilty about my various excesses, but within a day or two I typically remember that there are things that taste better than green juice, like everything, and start eating and drinking those things instead.
Look way up at the top there. See that big light fixture? Did not like.
Over the weekend my parents came to visit for an early Christmas celebration, and one night my dad and I were sitting at my dining room table talking about how unfortunately cavelike the lighting in my dining room/kitchen area is. The two primary problems: I had recently moved my dining room table from the center of the room over to one wall, and the pendant light that had previously hung over the center of the table now hung in the center of the dining room. Like, at head level.
The second problem I discovered on the day we moved in: the only light in our kitchen comes from one of those big, square 1960s-era fluorescent monstrosities. It's huge and ugly and casts a sort of sickly half-glow over the room, but I've always been nervous to pry it off because god knows what's underneath.
This is technically a photo of a woman painting, not of a woman doing drywall.
But strangely enough, when you google "woman doing home repair," what you get is mostly...porn.
So here is a photo of a woman painting. (I like her sneakers.)
