I did that thing again where I just disappear from my blog because I lack focus and also go to the beach a lot. I guess we’ll all just have to accept that I’m a big ole flake at the end of summer. Continue reading
Listen up, y’all. I have something important to say. Just because it’s Sunday and you’re all alone, that doesn’t mean you can’t make yourself a Sunday night feast. And just because it’s 90 degrees and brutal outside, that doesn’t mean your feast can’t include a roast chicken. I won’t let any of that stop me. No way, no how. Either way I’m roasting a chicken. (You can expect this to be the title of my first memoir.)
It’s the end of summer – a glorious summer full of grilling and sand and cheese and a Vermont lake. I’m sad to see it go, but my favorite season is around the corner, so I can’t complain. Before I start eating everything pumpkin, apple cider, and maple syrup though (seriously, I’m already planning all of that out – Happy Not Even Fall Yet y’all!), I thought I’d bid the summer of 2014 adieu by making a big bowl of summer pasta for some friends.