A Month of Giving Thanks: Nov. 30 Mornings

To read about why I’m spending a month Giving Thanks, Click Here

I love mornings.

I love breakfast and lattes and beds with warm blankets.

I love the color of the sky, before it gets very bright, and the sounds of neighbors walking their dogs and saying Good Morning.

I love the un-tarnished possibility of mornings; the fresh start, blank slate, rebirth of hope.

I just love mornings.

…and I get one every day.




…And now I can bake like a Lil’ ‘Ole Norwegian Grandma!

I FINALLY learned how to make rosettes! Don’t they look awesome? I made about 100…

I spent today baking with ladies more than twice my age.

I made Krumkake for the first time today; it tastes as good as I remember from my childhood.

I was the youngest by at least 50 years.

Some of the hundreds of sandbakkels we made…

And I loved every second of it.

Some of the items I brought home from my all-day baking: I got to use several different kinds of rosette irons, including a Christmas Tree and a Candy Cane, flower, star and snow flake. Very cool.

I baked so much with these ladies that I brought home a lot of treats for my boys. They were all too eager to finally try the goodies I’ve been talking about for years.

I think Logan’s expression says it all…

And I was all too eager to share with them a priceless piece of my childhood; an edible memory; a bit of myself, dusted with powdered sugar.

Logan eating his second Krumkake…he ate the first one before I could get a picture

Logan picked out a Krumkake to eat. He likes them as much as I do. And I like that, a lot.

A Month of Giving Thanks: Nov. 15 My Sister, Adrienne

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My sister, Adrienne.

To read about why I’m spending a month Giving Thanks, Click Here

My little sister isn’t perfect.

But you wouldn’t know that by looking at her. She got the pretty genes. And the smart genes. And the Practically Perfect In Every Way genes. Seriously. When she isn’t working as a model, she is working as a nanny; A Perfect Nanny.

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A and I cuddled under a blanket on Christmas Morning, trying to stay warm because all the windows were open to let the smoke out from the ham our dad had accidentally set on fire…its good to have someone to share memories like that with.

I don’t think she has ever once looked up to me; anything the both of us have done, she has done better. Acting, Singing, Dancing, Jesus, Boobs…Adrienne always gets it right. She used to take clothes out of my closet when we were kids, but since college I have been the one inspired by her wardrobe, taking note of the color combos, textures and shapes. I’m grays and browns, she’s lime green and hot pink and deli mustard yellow.

And yet, we are just a like. That’s what happens when someone else has been there with you all along. We finish each others’ thoughts; erupt in the same song at the same time in the car; find the same things amusing, frustrating, rewarding. She gets it; she’s been there, too. She’s one of my kind…just prettier and with bigger tits and Jazz Hands.

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Soul Sisters are better than soulmates because you don’t have to go looking for them; they’re there from the begining.

…Which is why I’m lucky to have her as a sister, to have her to share the crazy childhood memories with….and there are many. Oh so many…And every time we are together, we laugh so hard we cry. We crack up about our shared childhood, what life holds today and where we’re hoping to be tomorrow. We speak with the same intonation, the same expressions and mannerisms and level of enthusiasm. We’re sisters, and you can tell.

Sisters are, of course, the only people who get what its like to be you, who know where you’ve come from, the insecurities and blog a 4jealousies and dreams, because they share them, helped form them, and believe in them, too. Sister relationships are, by definition, emotionally charged: sisters know where your buttons are, know that secret code to push to get you to self destruct with a temper-tantrum rivaling most two-year olds.  Sisters, if they aren’t kind, can decide to bring out the worst in us every single time. But sisters are, too, the only other people who can love you as much as you love yourself. If you are lucky, your sister is part of who you are, part of your soul.

I am lucky.

Adrienne is part of my soul. She’s not my Soul Mate; she’s my Soul Sister…and that’s even better because I never had to search for her or wonder if I’d found her. She’s my sister,  she was there all along.