i feel a little haley joel osmentish these days
as life continues to unravel in a pay it forward kinda way.
know your shoe size and buy you awesome stuff at the vide grenier.
give you charcoal pills because they know your belly is funny.
call you by your nickname.
yesterday i spent a little time figuring out how to keep this going.
i made two black bean lasagnas
and three loaves of banana bread
for some friends in need of love.
i endured a small kitchen fire during baking. while chanting
"scary, scary, scary,"
i found my plant mister and put the fire out.
just thought it might be interesting to show what qualifies as a
"kitchen" in paris
(it's basically a closet with a sink in it).