We had a potluck for which we cooked foods that generally fly south of the border. It was magnificent. I made Cuban picadillo, which wasn’t terrible (yay!), although next time I’ll need to figure out a better way to serve it (mix it with rice or offer bread or something). [Project 365]
Every damn photo I took Sunday night was blurry so I must point you in the direction of the professional photographs taken by one Brandon Dill, the Mid-South’s premier freelance photographer who manages to make people look pretty even while they are sweaty, drunken messes. [Project 365
To be fair, it’s not technically the birth. This bromance has been brewing for a long time. We won’t speak of the incident at Christmas. Also, I love how Ben is totally selling it with the bedroom face. Tooooootally selling. Broooootally selling it. *ducks to avoid a neck-shanking from Zach* I was going to post a photo of the delicious plate of Make-It-Work potluck goodness (seriously, the things you people make out of random unplanned…
Dang, my friends can cook. And they’re spilling secrets like beans from a bag with a big ol’ hole in it. Come for the links, stay for the bad similes!
When I was growing up, there was this book floating around our house called Speaking Southern Like It Should Be Spoke, and it was more or less a dictionary of Southernisms. What I can’t say for sure is whether or not it was mean or nice. Like, was it playful self-parody, or mean razzing from the outside? I’m not sure, and it’s even harder to tell since I can’t really find much out about that…
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