(I have become a huge fan of Dr. Seuss, by the way, and can recite whole chunks of his work from memory now.)The last year was a mighty whirlwind for me and my little family: we sold a house, had a baby, my husband started a new job, we moved, I left a job I loved. We are so excited to be where we are now, and for the year ahead ... though I think it's safe to say we both hope this year is a little quieter. I love being home with the baby, more than I thought I would in fact, and every day I try to think of how I can work my love of baking into something a little more substantial ... something more meaningful than having eleven different kinds of cookie dough in the freezer alongside five different types of zucchini bread. I love having this blog and I love even more that it gives me a ticket into a really terrific community of food bloggers. I hope to be here more often in the next year.
On that note, I have a confession. I was ready, several weeks ago, to post an entry and keep with my newfound commitment to the blog. I mean, I was literally setting words up in my editor when I took a lunch break and learned about the Newtown shootings. I was totally distraught and couldn't write anymore; to say the very least, the day was not about sweet potatoes. If I'm honest I'd admit that I struggled just to keep myself together that day, and I wasn't very successful. Every time I looked at or thought of my son, I was completely overcome with sadness and overwhelmed with rage for those who'd lost someone so violently that day, particularly the families of those 20 children. The thought of a lone, crazed, and powerfully armed gunman with hundreds of rounds to spare and a weapon that could kill dozens in a minute, popping out somewhere seemingly safe, haunted me everywhere we went. I wanted to post a couple days later, and then a few days after that, but it was hard because I didn't feel comfortable not saying anything at all about Newtown, but what do you say? I didn't want to mention that horrific event and then delve into a recipe in the same post ... that would be utterly disrespectful. I was stuck because I didn't know where to draw the line between me and the "me" online. And then time passed and it felt even harder to broach the subject.
I guess I should have been honest. This blog doesn't exist in a vacuum, I have other things going on, so maybe I should have just told you how affected I was, and how deeply I was saddened, and how I feel compelled to do something about it. Maybe you would have agreed, maybe you were shocked or feeling sad, too, or maybe you would never have clicked back to these pages. I suppose what I'm saying is that I'm here not as a top-notch photographer or a recipe developer, I don't have a particular expertise in food, I'm just a lady who loves to bake and cook and share that. Also, I have a cute baby I am obsessed with, a husband I'm wild about, I'm opinionated, and sometimes will say things not about food. Is that okay to share with you, too?
(Cute baby interlude ... Mama's little helper)