Pizzelle and puzzles make for an okay rainy Sunday afternoon. These pieces are so pretty, I almost don’t want to put together the puzzle, but it’s Seurat’s La Grande Jatte, so it’ll be gorgeous when it’s done, too.
She’s upset because she can’t come snuggle on my stomach, like usual. She’s having to make do with my knees.
Prepping Persian spices. Clockwise from the top left: sheved (dill weed), shanbalileh (fenugreek), tareh (dried leeks), and limoo amani (dried sour limes). It smells like my childhood in my kitchen right now.
Dad sent me and Mom a care package that included these little Persian sweets that translate to “sequin candies”. They’re just little flat discs of sugar that taste very lightly of honey. Yum.
Trip planning is so fun
- Mom: Have you ever wanted to go to Turkey?
- Me: Oh, yeah. I want to go to Istanbul and call it Constantinople the whole goddamn time we're there.
- Mom: Sounds like a plan, honey.
Gimme back my giggles, please
Recovering from having your midsection sliced open isn’t the easiest thing to do, especially since so many involuntary actions require your abs to do a ton of work. Things like coughing, sneezing, hiccuping, or even stretching as I wake up have become terrifying events to be avoided at all costs.
The worst thing? Laughing. Mom and I usually make a habit of laughing a lot when we’re together. But this time, we have to be so careful that one of us doesn’t send the other into a fit of giggles because then I end up crying from the pain (which also hurts).
It’s getting super boring to just be stuck in my house all day, and I really want to have my friends come over and visit, but I don’t think that’s a good idea until I can laugh at least a little bit. Otherwise, I may actually bust a gut.
This is one of the best things I have ever read. Totally serious.
(via theonlymagicleftisart)
The contents of the largest fruit basket I’ve ever been given. I have some of the most thoughtful friends and coworkers.
First REAL meal since I had the surgery. My awesome coworker Joe made the red sauce, and my mom (who is the best living cook I know) cannot stop gushing about how awesome it is. “This is like a restaurant sauce!” “And I thought I was a good cook! My sauce is nowhere near this good!” Thanks a million, Joe.
