Woke up and made 16 biscuits just so I could have this one* for breakfast
Woke up and made 16 biscuits just so I could have this one* for breakfast. #selfcare #workwife
Before I started college, a girlfriend asked me if I could ever be content; I answered, “I hope not,” and we broke up. Anyway, there are moments out on the water here—deep breaths when the stillness washes over—that I wonder if, just maybe, I *finally* understand what she was getting at with that question. Answer’s still the same, though GalleryBefore I started college, a girlfriend asked me if I could ever be content; I answered, “I hope not,” and we broke up. Anyway, there are moments out on the water here—deep breaths when the stillness washes over—that I wonder if, just maybe, I *finally* understand what she was getting at with that question. Answer’s still the same, though
Before I started college, a girlfriend asked me if I could ever be content; I answered, “I hope not,” and we broke up. Anyway, there are moments out on the water here—deep breaths when the stillness washes over—that I wonder if, just maybe, I *finally* understand what she was getting at with that question. Answer’s still the same, though
Before I started college, a girlfriend asked me if I could ever be content; I answered, “I hope not,” and we broke up. Anyway, there are moments out on the water here—deep breaths when the stillness washes over—that I wonder if, just maybe, I *finally* understand what she was getting at with that question. Answer’s still the same, though. #tightlines
Happy birthday, Pop! He ignored the birthday wishes when I called him, but wanted to tell me that he‘d cooked some of the fish I brought him at Christmas. Took my advice and left the skin and scales on—says it was the first time ever trying it that way. “You were right, that’s where the flavor is.” Still learning at 93. GalleryHappy birthday, Pop! He ignored the birthday wishes when I called him, but wanted to tell me that he‘d cooked some of the fish I brought him at Christmas. Took my advice and left the skin and scales on—says it was the first time ever trying it that way. “You were right, that’s where the flavor is.” Still learning at 93.
Happy birthday, Pop! He ignored the birthday wishes when I called him, but wanted to tell me that he‘d cooked some of the fish I brought him at Christmas. Took my advice and left the skin and scales on—says it was the first time ever trying it that way. “You were right, that’s where the flavor is.” Still learning at 93.
Happy birthday, Pop! He ignored the birthday wishes when I called him, but wanted to tell me that he‘d cooked some of the fish I brought him at Christmas. Took my advice and left the skin and scales on—says it was the first time ever trying it that way. “You were right, that’s where the flavor is.” Still learning at 93.
Weird week but at least the bite is heating up
Weird week but at least the bite is heating up. #troutfishinginamerica #procrastifishing
It’s weird to peel back layers of identity that we tie to physical attributes. Two years ago, this was the longest my hair had been and likely my longest beard—a week later, it had all fallen out from chemo. That hit me harder than I wanted to admit at the time, but it offered a reminder that we are, in fact, more than our bodies and features. When treatment was over, I marked a fresh start with a hot shave, and I haven’t had more than a light maintenance trim (for either) in the 18-ish months since. Not that I necessarily want to look a certain way, but I have a hard time committing to cutting anything—part of that seems to stem from some deeper desire to get back to what I knew, how I saw myself then, before I could feel fully restored from the whole experience. Two years provides for a lot of healing and perspective, but when it’s quiet, I still feel these memories, especially around the anniversaries of my diagnoses. The body remembers GalleryIt’s weird to peel back layers of identity that we tie to physical attributes. Two years ago, this was the longest my hair had been and likely my longest beard—a week later, it had all fallen out from chemo. That hit me harder than I wanted to admit at the time, but it offered a reminder that we are, in fact, more than our bodies and features. When treatment was over, I marked a fresh start with a hot shave, and I haven’t had more than a light maintenance trim (for either) in the 18-ish months since. Not that I necessarily want to look a certain way, but I have a hard time committing to cutting anything—part of that seems to stem from some deeper desire to get back to what I knew, how I saw myself then, before I could feel fully restored from the whole experience. Two years provides for a lot of healing and perspective, but when it’s quiet, I still feel these memories, especially around the anniversaries of my diagnoses. The body remembers
It’s weird to peel back layers of identity that we tie to physical attributes. Two years ago, this was the longest my hair had been and likely my longest beard—a week later, it had all fallen out from chemo. That hit me harder than I wanted to admit at the time, but it offered a reminder that we are, in fact, more than our bodies and features. When treatment was over, I marked a fresh start with a hot shave, and I haven’t had more than a light maintenance trim (for either) in the 18-ish months since. Not that I necessarily want to look a certain way, but I have a hard time committing to cutting anything—part of that seems to stem from some deeper desire to get back to what I knew, how I saw myself then, before I could feel fully restored from the whole experience. Two years provides for a lot of healing and perspective, but when it’s quiet, I still feel these memories, especially around the anniversaries of my diagnoses. The body remembers
It’s weird to peel back layers of identity that we tie to physical attributes. Two years ago, this was the longest my hair had been and likely my longest beard—a week later, it had all fallen out from chemo. That hit me harder than I wanted to admit at the time, but it offered a reminder that we are, in fact, more than our bodies and features. When treatment was over, I marked a fresh start with a hot shave, and I haven’t had more than a light maintenance trim (for either) in the 18-ish months since. Not that I necessarily want to look a certain way, but I have a hard time committing to cutting anything—part of that seems to stem from some deeper desire to get back to what I knew, how I saw myself then, before I could feel fully restored from the whole experience. Two years provides for a lot of healing and perspective, but when it’s quiet, I still feel these memories, especially around the anniversaries of my diagnoses. The body remembers. #tbt #cancerselfie #thewordsweuse #enoughofthisletsgofishing
Tried something different the two deer I killed last Fall, breaking down the hind quarters into smaller, single-muscle cuts. Just coated this one in piment d’espelette and smoked it at around 180 degrees, then salted as it rested and finished with a little Fresno chili olive oil. If you’ve ever thought of venison as tough or “gamey,” come on over—I’d be happy to change that perception GalleryTried something different the two deer I killed last Fall, breaking down the hind quarters into smaller, single-muscle cuts. Just coated this one in piment d’espelette and smoked it at around 180 degrees, then salted as it rested and finished with a little Fresno chili olive oil. If you’ve ever thought of venison as tough or “gamey,” come on over—I’d be happy to change that perception
Tried something different the two deer I killed last Fall, breaking down the hind quarters into smaller, single-muscle cuts. Just coated this one in piment d’espelette and smoked it at around 180 degrees, then salted as it rested and finished with a little Fresno chili olive oil. If you’ve ever thought of venison as tough or “gamey,” come on over—I’d be happy to change that perception
Tried something different the two deer I killed last Fall, breaking down the hind quarters into smaller, single-muscle cuts. Just coated this one in piment d’espelette and smoked it at around 180 degrees, then salted as it rested and finished with a little Fresno chili olive oil. If you’ve ever thought of venison as tough or “gamey,” come on over—I’d be happy to change that perception. #southernliving #meatbutter