tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40982399177088507312024-02-19T06:01:14.691-05:00sweet somethingsSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.comBlogger363125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-66064698062259802672015-05-29T13:16:00.001-04:002015-05-29T13:16:38.939-04:00Self... Like?Maybe. Maybe not so much.<br />
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I know full well that I'm supposed to embrace and love and revere this post-baby body of mine. I know it. But it doesn't mean I actually feel those things. In all honesty, I don't like my body at all right now. <br />
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In the first shower I took after my C-section, I looked down and didn't recognize a single part of my body. Below the neck, it wasn't me. It didn't look like the pregnant version of me, and it was nowhere near the pre-baby version of me. Later, after a few weeks of night sweats and hot flashes, I lost the bloat weight and was able to put real shoes and jeans back on again. But, still. I still do not look like me. And more importantly, I do not feel like me. I'm used to feeling strong and capable; right now, I'm not in the slightest running shape, and it seems like more and more body parts are in pain with each day. That's a move in the opposite direction, am I right?<br />
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I realized this morning that I've been mildly obsessing over a photo of me taken ten years ago, right after a sweaty, dusty, hilly, summer trail run. I'm soaked in sweat (I do not look pretty when I work out), and my hair is a frizzy pony-tailed mess. But all I can think about right now is how badass I was. I'd just finished running a set of trail loops with a killer hill, and I'd passed other runners <i>on the uphills</i>. I was sweaty and feeling strong. So strong. <br />
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Now? I am a lumpy mess, experiencing pain that's limiting me even more. I know full well that this will pass, and that I'll start really running again one day, and that my body might eventually look familiar again. But I don't want to discount how I feel right now. I don't want to ignore my current struggle with a brain that doesn't want to live in the body it's got. I don't want to candy coat or smile through my true feelings. I want to throw things and kick things and go out - <i>solo </i>- to run my body ragged.<br />
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But for now, I will work on my mental game. And try to come to terms with reintroducing my body to my brain.<br />
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<br />Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-19837778874731580632015-05-28T10:43:00.000-04:002015-05-28T10:43:19.301-04:00Giving Up and Glad About ItSo, as I type this, I'm sitting 8 inches from my breast pump bag, which is putting the baby and the dogs to sleep with its hypnotic whoosh-whoosh sounds. I won't lie; it regularly puts me to sleep as I'm sitting up, nearing on midnight, for my last pumping session of the day. <br />
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Why pump? Why not "just" breastfeed? Two big reasons: Apparently, my nipples are junk and make it nearly impossible for Wyla to latch on. I have to wear nifty little <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B000067PQ0/ref=as_li_tl?ie=UTF8&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B000067PQ0&linkCode=as2&tag=sweetsomethin-20&linkId=D3IS3FJIQQDHFD24">shields</a><img alt="" border="0" src="http://ir-na.amazon-adsystem.com/e/ir?t=sweetsomethin-20&l=as2&o=1&a=B000067PQ0" height="1" style="border: none !important; margin: 0px !important;" width="1" />
to make feeding her possible. The other reason is that when it comes to feeding, Wyla oscillates between two modes - Sleepy Pie Can't Stay Awake, or Hangry Pacman Chomping and Thrashing (so. much. ouch.). Neither way is effective at getting her belly full. <br />
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I've been feeding her expressed milk with bottles that mimic breasts, so that she won't forget how to latch. But honestly, I almost never breastfeed her anymore. Maybe once every couple of days at best. And those bottles make such a mess (even with bibs, I have to change her onesie with almost every feeding) and make feeding her slow. Which is the last thing I need when I'm sitting down to pump for 30 minutes every 2.5 hours. But now? I'm feeling like, why bother? Why is it that I'm trying to keep her breast-ready for feeding? Unfortunately, I can't get rid of my breast pump because I'll be relying on it when I go back to work in July. So, I'm stuck with that bad boy.<br />
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So, I quit. No more baby-on-boob action in this house. If I'm being completely honest, I think about quitting the pump and breast milk altogether. But, for now, I'll keep it up. My goal is six months. Only 4.5 more to go, right?Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-4083755884780060762012-08-02T08:36:00.000-04:002012-08-02T08:39:42.071-04:00Will Work for Food<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbB0OJ3tjtKh7bunkSH3swLMQhkVAm-X4Lua9Rlyxi56PqAaQ7Dg5V2nZCuLf8eom5K8Qjmd_38uVv5kHR0xerBjrVHlUQXcD2spwJD8rT8NuTDq-d63eAuwor2PQ4PepblWsvfNrod-Q/s1600/hungry-sign.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbB0OJ3tjtKh7bunkSH3swLMQhkVAm-X4Lua9Rlyxi56PqAaQ7Dg5V2nZCuLf8eom5K8Qjmd_38uVv5kHR0xerBjrVHlUQXcD2spwJD8rT8NuTDq-d63eAuwor2PQ4PepblWsvfNrod-Q/s1600/hungry-sign.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://greeneryinmommyhood.com/2011/03/24/hungry-will-work-for-food/" target="_blank">{ image source }</a></td></tr>
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This morning, I saw a man standing on the corner of a busy intersection, holding out a cardboard sign that said, "Will Work for Food" in black marker. Every time I see someone like this, my heart instantly pinches up. It breaks my heart to see anyone hungry, and in this current economy, with crops dying of drought, the hungry will only become hungrier. When I see someone offering to work for food, it's all I can do not to invite him over to my house to cook up a huge batch of something homemade for a meal and for leftovers to go. I realize that, as a woman, I simply cannot be inviting strangers into my house, and that only makes my heart feel even more pinchy. </div>
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But when I saw that man today, with his messy hair and too-big clothing, I nearly broke down in tears. I was five minutes from my workplace, and I wanted to turn my car around to go home and make this man an overflowing pot of spaghetti. And while I was internally lamenting my inability to ditch my day job for an apron and stack of recipes, I remembered a Pin in my feed yesterday:</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.joyshope.com/2010/11/i-heart-big-hearts.html" target="_blank">{ image source }</a></td></tr>
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Blessing Bags. An utterly genius - and empathetic and empowering - idea. A bag of helpful items to feed and better someone's life. A helping hand in a ziploc.</div>
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Some twenty years ago, a similar man was standing on a busy corner with a similar sign. My family was on our way home from a picnic in a local park, and we had leftovers tucked away in a cooler in our car. When my dad saw this man, he instantly rolled down his window to hand the man all our leftover fried chicken, oranges, and cans of cold soda. Twenty years later, and I have not forgotten the look on that man's face. He was instantly overjoyed and lit up with a smile. He said a million thank yous to us as we continued handing him food through the window.</div>
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These days, when I'm up at night, worrying about budgets and finances and plans for the future, it's easy to forget that others are in much more fragile situations. Others would be delighted to receive something as simple as a plastic bag filled with nourishment.</div>
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I have a new project to focus on. One that makes my heart feel light.</div>
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<a href="http://kwavs.blogspot.com/2011/05/blessing-bags-how-to.html" target="_blank"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Blessing Bags #1</span></b></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.joyshope.com/2010/11/i-heart-big-hearts.html" target="_blank"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Blessing Bags #2</span></b></a></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-70473478157809677022012-03-12T08:05:00.001-04:002012-03-12T08:05:25.771-04:00Happy Birthday, Rory!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Rory turns 8 years old today, I can't hardly believe it!</div>
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She got her very own birthday cake to celebrate, and of course, her friends were there for the fun too.</div>
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I posted her cake recipe <span style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://blahtota-daa.blogspot.com/2012/03/doggie-birthday-cake.html" target="_blank">over at the food blog</a></span>!</div>
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Peanut butter tongues are hilarious!</div>
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<br />Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-19297589954492756372012-03-07T09:14:00.000-05:002012-03-07T09:14:09.640-05:00Stop Kony.<div style="text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="225" mozallowfullscreen="" src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/37119711?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0&color=d13030" webkitallowfullscreen="" width="400"></iframe></div>
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<a href="http://vimeo.com/37119711">KONY 2012</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/invisible">INVISIBLE CHILDREN</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com/">Vimeo</a>.</div>
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KONY 2012 is a film and campaign by Invisible Children that aims to make Joseph Kony famous, not to celebrate him, but to raise support for his arrest and set a precedent for international justice. <br />
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HOW TO HELP:</div>
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Sign the Pledge: <a href="http://www.causes.com/causes/227-invisible-children">http://www.causes.com/causes/227-invisible-children</a><br />
Join TRI or Donate to Invisible Children: <a href="http://bit.ly/yp5Ffv">http://bit.ly/yp5Ffv</a><br />
Purchase KONY 2012 products:<a href="http://invisiblechildrenstore.myshopify.com/" target="_blank"> http://invisiblechildrenstore.myshopify.com/</a><br /><br />
<br />Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-30078915805430652782011-10-06T07:30:00.000-04:002011-10-06T07:30:01.628-04:00Cooking with Sara: French Dip & Kale Chips<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://blahtota-daa.blogspot.com/2011/10/slow-cooker-french-dip-sandwiches.html">Slow Cooker French Dip Sandwiches on From Blah to Ta-Daa</a></span></strong></div>
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Apparently, over at the food blog, we played a long drawn-out game of dodgeball, and I'm the last one standing. So, as I'm looking around, with a smelly red rubber ball in my hands, I'm feeling a bit isolated and alone. And you know what I do when I'm alone - I talk to myself (and pretend that Rory is enraptured with my nonstop monolog). This time, talking to myself has morphed into making and posting more recipes on the food blog. So that it doesn't feel so much like a ghost town. I'm leaving the lights on, so to speak. <br />
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For the past few weeks, I've been trying to post two recipes each week. This week's pair is a deliberate step away from the sugar and butter: The first is just comfort food yum, with very little work or attention. The second is... hmmmmm.... I'm still not sure what to make of it. Kale Chips recipes have been making the rounds on food blogs, so I decided to finally try them. I wrote a lot more about the buggers on the food blog, so click on over if you're wondering what the heck Kale Chips are.<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://blahtota-daa.blogspot.com/2011/10/kale-chips.html">Kale Chips on From Blah to Ta-Daa</a></span></strong></div>
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Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-2716706166036096312011-10-05T07:00:00.000-04:002011-10-05T09:37:46.077-04:00Fall Flowers, Part 3<i><a href="http://skeddy.blogspot.com/2011/10/fall-flowers-part-1.html"><strong>Fall Flowers, Part 1 here</strong></a></i><br />
<i><a href="http://skeddy.blogspot.com/2011/10/fall-flowers-part-2.html"><strong>Fall Flowers, Part 2 here</strong></a></i><br />
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This last batch of photos from Sunday afternoon is actually all the same stem of flowers! It's amazing how different something can look just by moving to let the sun light it from a different angle. I sat on the ground and rotated around the flower as I took photos. Isn't nature just so pretty?</div>
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<br />Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-24472889301370419052011-10-04T07:00:00.000-04:002011-10-05T09:37:37.382-04:00Fall Flowers, Part 2<i><a href="http://skeddy.blogspot.com/2011/10/fall-flowers-part-1.html"><strong>Fall Flowers, Part 1 here</strong></a></i><br />
<em><a href="http://skeddy.blogspot.com/2011/10/fall-flowers-part-3.html"><strong>Fall Flowers, Part 3 here</strong></a></em><br />
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<i><br /></i>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-52837396416472456492011-10-03T07:00:00.000-04:002011-10-05T09:37:28.392-04:00Fall Flowers, Part 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<i><a href="http://skeddy.blogspot.com/2011/10/fall-flowers-part-2.html"><strong>Fall Flowers, Part 2 here</strong></a></i></div>
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<em><a href="http://skeddy.blogspot.com/2011/10/fall-flowers-part-3.html"><strong>Fall Flowers, Part 3 here</strong></a></em></div>
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Yesterday, our weather was beyond perfect - cooler temperatures with a crisp, easy wind and the bluest sky you've ever seen. Bo convinced me to put my chores aside to take my camera out into the clearing behind our mini forest to snap pictures of the flowers in the sunshine. I'm so, so glad he got me out there. It was beautiful! And time in nature always slows down my incessant fast-paced approach to life. It calms me and makes me feel centered and grounded again. <br />
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So, I took a ton of photos, and here is the first batch of them. Lucky you, I'll be posting them over the next couple of days, so it's a pretty pretty flower fest for all of us :) Happy week!<br />
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Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-24515720924026305832011-09-23T07:00:00.000-04:002011-09-23T07:00:05.650-04:00...Toad in the Yard<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-26116322344999585612011-09-22T09:06:00.002-04:002011-09-22T09:06:58.582-04:00Cooking with Sara: Pumpkin Praline Cake<br />
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I mayyyyyy know full well what I'm doing when I post a photo like that one above. A shiny, perfectly dripping drizzle of homemade caramel sauce? I mean, c'mon, that's just not playing fair! And yet, I post it all extra-large size anyway. Devious, that girl Sara.</div>
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://blahtota-daa.blogspot.com/2011/09/praline-pumpkin-cake.html">Pumpkin Praline Cake on From Blah to Ta-Daa</a></span></strong></div>
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Aside from the pretty caramel drip photos, I do want to show you my new cake stand! It's vintage milk glass, and I paid way too much for it at an antique store. I bought it and another gorgeous stand to go with my plain-Jane Martha Stewart cake stands for <a href="http://skeddy.blogspot.com/2011/09/weekend-scrapbook-7.html">the wedding last weekend</a>. I'm head over heels in love with both stands, and I'm already scheming ways to get my other stand into a recipe post. (And figure out why it's got a mysterious brandy cup? That's another story for another day, and I definitely need your help with it.)</div>
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Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-60681838840212003692011-09-21T08:58:00.002-04:002011-09-21T08:58:48.246-04:00Frog in the House<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I was putting dishes away this morning (anyone else do the dishes unnecessarily before work?) and looked up to see this little guy in the window sill over our sink. Yes, <em>inside</em> the house. I think these little frogs are just about the most adorable ever. No bigger than a cookie, and such a pretty green. We've seen a few in our yard, and Bo has taught Rory to chase them. (Which is a whole other flipping hilarious video-photo blog post I've yet to write.)</div>
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I have no idea when this little guy sneaked into the house (and obviously scooted across the floor mat from the looks of all the Rory hair stuck to him), but he was clinging to the window this morning to try and escape.</div>
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Bo released him in the backyard, with Rory's supervision. I think I'll name him Cookie.Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-40937879982381399082011-09-20T07:00:00.000-04:002011-09-20T07:00:16.868-04:00Cooking with Sara: Chocolate Truffle Cakes<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix_v1cflKBtxvT4cHLPjUoJD8OTag1hqu2HETN6208dNTnjQCu4byOHq123Duw2OSQKjmcPcRCqSUa4KtnuWu2CBWGBElD5bZNNu0fLFCkPqx171vpWTc6qm1YERLTLBdFLcM-u1IFrzA/s1600/trufflecakes9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix_v1cflKBtxvT4cHLPjUoJD8OTag1hqu2HETN6208dNTnjQCu4byOHq123Duw2OSQKjmcPcRCqSUa4KtnuWu2CBWGBElD5bZNNu0fLFCkPqx171vpWTc6qm1YERLTLBdFLcM-u1IFrzA/s640/trufflecakes9.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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This yummy little recipe posted last week to the food blog, but I was so busy posting Savannah photos here that I didn't get a chance to share it with you. It was part of that haul I made for a wedding last weekend, and I'm hoping to get the others recipes posted during the next few weeks or so. Assuming that I can muster up the motivation to make them again. I'm partly traumatized by the whole experience, so please don't hold your breath.</div>
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Anyway, back to this recipe! If you like brownies (and what sane person doesn't?), you really need to scoot your tush over there to check out the recipe. With only one tablespoon of flour, it's almost entirely chocolate, with a little sugar and butter thrown in for good measure. And to tell you the truth, I love it way better than the brownie recipe I've been swearing by for years. It has the crackly, lightly crusted outside of a brownie, but with a <i>gooey chocolatey center</i>. My oh my, it's just so, so, so good. Trust me on this one. </div>
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And scoot!:</div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://blahtota-daa.blogspot.com/2011/09/chocolate-truffle-cakes.html">Chocolate Truffle Cakes on From Blah to Ta-Daa!</a></span></b></div>
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<br />Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-76930569857024887172011-09-19T07:00:00.000-04:002011-09-19T07:00:17.719-04:00Weekend Scrapbook 7<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKQ8-zUSnw-tMzDx0ItAAx5390YFYKYEhVv6jmmRWQ1La5LnREBMdmukhyRxFqu0S0KWo8TMwjBy_2kGNyvA0vcExCorHWabhWYlaPv4jACdYgWhHNROpkktmBTUZrUJDjNDfrQqZ39II/s1600/sara_kitchen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKQ8-zUSnw-tMzDx0ItAAx5390YFYKYEhVv6jmmRWQ1La5LnREBMdmukhyRxFqu0S0KWo8TMwjBy_2kGNyvA0vcExCorHWabhWYlaPv4jACdYgWhHNROpkktmBTUZrUJDjNDfrQqZ39II/s400/sara_kitchen.jpg" width="300" /></a></div>
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This is pretty much how I looked for three solid days. Well, ok, that's a lie. By the third day, my hair was definitely more frazzled, and I probably wasn't quite so smiley. But in the kitchen, wearing an apron, utensils scattered, and recipes hanging from everywhere is pretty accurate.</div>
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And this is the end result! Friday was my last Sarandipity hurrah, when I did the cake and dessert table for our friends' wedding. I made four different mini-desserts: Cheesecakes with strawberry sauce, chocolate truffle cakes, red velvet cakes, and pecan lace cups with key lime filling.</div>
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The lovely bride!</div>
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And groom :)</div>
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After putting up with my stress and chaos for three days and jumping in to save the day no fewer than six times, Bo is still smiling. He's such a keeper.Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-80417962207667695282011-09-16T07:00:00.000-04:002011-09-16T07:00:04.831-04:00Savannah Photos: Part 4<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_jxXi0DlwQ7ULxJ_g9EByyxFs7vsaV_OD6vBr3XUifxYohY8SBP1jjSWzZ7Lo-RFuw0_dL5gKM959Omd3d8W7cD1fhJ_Lc-VHPTGMQZ5atJqzghgi-J68HYQJYDPlWXiJ4c6-GjYpfo9D/s1600/savannah_parks7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_jxXi0DlwQ7ULxJ_g9EByyxFs7vsaV_OD6vBr3XUifxYohY8SBP1jjSWzZ7Lo-RFuw0_dL5gKM959Omd3d8W7cD1fhJ_Lc-VHPTGMQZ5atJqzghgi-J68HYQJYDPlWXiJ4c6-GjYpfo9D/s400/savannah_parks7.jpg" width="225" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrdFW_PHD2NpF4cSy2s5weipKQ1KTE_-nin5KAqpXpSWWPdfDHnoouE5kEV-hmadCevep_MA6kvyUQUBOw3rJP0XD4oA0zNs-XR-n1ql1VV9akuqkFJIjz7CeGqFMLMoIk7cWEBHzgZuv-/s1600/savannah_parks1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrdFW_PHD2NpF4cSy2s5weipKQ1KTE_-nin5KAqpXpSWWPdfDHnoouE5kEV-hmadCevep_MA6kvyUQUBOw3rJP0XD4oA0zNs-XR-n1ql1VV9akuqkFJIjz7CeGqFMLMoIk7cWEBHzgZuv-/s400/savannah_parks1.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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<i>This post contains all the photos I posted over on <a href="http://blahtota-daa.blogspot.com/">our food blog</a> this week. I thought about just giving you the link, but I wanted to keep all the Savannah posts together, as a collection.</i><br />
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Where I didn't go - Paula Deen's Lady & Sons restaurant. Sorry! But the wait was hours long, and we weren't even hungry when we still had a chance to get in line. Later, when we went by, the line was for the bar only and didn't budge an inch in the 20 minutes we stood there. I decided that I'd have to be content with photos of the outside, and we wandered off to do more sightseeing.</div>
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This is the line to get your name on the list for dinner five hours later.</div>
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The Pirates House is on the list for must-see in Savannah. It's the oldest house in Georgia, and they built a restaurant around it. Click-zoom to read the place mat photos below for all kinds of awesome history.<br />
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The place mats actually had a lot more history and stories than our guide mentioned:</div>
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(click to zoom and read)</div>
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It doesn't get much more Southern than sweet tea, fried pickles, and a biscuit with peach jelly.</div>
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I ordered a crab cake sandwich that was messy and delicious.</div>
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Let me first remind everyone that I'm currently not eating sugar. I decided that I would absolutely splurge on one sugar-laden treat for the weekend. So, when I saw this sign, I immediately ducked into the shop before Bo even realized that I was gone.<br />
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This guy making pralines gave me a sample!</div>
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I bought one of these for Bo - who would be buried in caramel, chocolate, and pecans, if given the option - and I had to put up the biggest fuss before he agreed to let me try a tiny bite of it.<br />
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White and milk chocolate covered marshmallows, on a stick, with sprinkly toppings. Why have I not made these yet??<br />
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One block down the waterfront was another candy shop:</div>
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With its own guy making pralines.</div>
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But! The huge, big, major difference is that this shop smelled like <i>heavennnnn</i>. Have you ever smelled warm caramel and roasted pecans and loads and loads of melted butter?? Add that to your bucket list, because holy goodness, it was to.die.for. After getting mildly drunk off the scent, I rushed outside to shriek at Bo to get in there and smell it. <br />
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We considered all the popular, go-to places, and I read hundreds of reviews and lists recommending where to eat in Savannah. But after all the fried fish and slaw and sandwiches, I was craving Italian food slathered in red sauce. I picked a casual place called Leoci's, with a back patio strung in twinkly lights. It was perfect. We sat near a fan, under this twinkly tent, and instantly relaxed. It was definitely our kind of place to eat (it's dog friendly, even!).<br />
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Bo ordered a delicious house wine, and as usual, I opted for a glass of something bubbly.<br />
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Leoci's makes their pasta fresh daily, and if you ever go, <i>order the lasagna</i>. It was the most amazing lasagna I've ever tasted. Ever ever ever in the whole wide world.<br />
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(Sorry for the blurry photo. By this point, Bo was tired of my stealing his plate and mucking with my phone's camera settings to take eighteen hundred photos of his meal.) Turns out that the lasagna is ten layers of their fresh pasta, with very little cheese between the layers. But it is heavenly creamy in your mouth. Something about their homemade pasta is incredibly creamy and almost puffy. I must have it again. Must.<br />
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As amazing as those candy shops smelled, I'm just not a huge fan of pralines or fudge (add that to the list of reasons I'm one day getting kicked out of the South). You see, for me, the very best sugar indulgence involves cake and piles of fluffy buttercream frosting. So, we visited a late night dessert shop called Lulu's.</div>
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A golden yellow cake with fresh strawberry buttercream. It was four hundred percent worth the splurge and worth the wait for sugar. And yes, I ate it while sitting in our hotel bed, under the covers.</div>
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p.s. A week later, and I'm still thinking about that lasagna.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ir4eGcvZsHmloLUCHaPlE-Hv7neVOPj6G6PZZ9LXQBH7BOscjMURHBZX8ZR5VudvLE6H0eZPU5VYY-Pd0cBTKfk7oWv1F0kmbZPSzK_shDbyhWEgOz8S_eMBcEDreEVDubWiQKJL6nQ/s1600/savannah_cemetery10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ir4eGcvZsHmloLUCHaPlE-Hv7neVOPj6G6PZZ9LXQBH7BOscjMURHBZX8ZR5VudvLE6H0eZPU5VYY-Pd0cBTKfk7oWv1F0kmbZPSzK_shDbyhWEgOz8S_eMBcEDreEVDubWiQKJL6nQ/s640/savannah_cemetery10.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="360" /></a></div>
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Savannah's Colonial Park Cemetery was established in 1750 and was closed for burials before the Civil War even began. (But, Savannahans would like you to know that Federal - read: Yankee - soldiers looted the cemetery, camped out in the larger tombs, and changed the dates on several of the gravestones.) </div>
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This is the biggest Magnolia Tree I've seen in my entire life.</div>
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Sacred. </div>
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I never realized that Crape Myrtle Trees were so beautiful.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifpwBPCx3DCbK7xWfhaji0DPEx31hk69tEdouJhbMG_KvAH69JT0_s_ZT1PQLXcgmmUx9eDT76bQWB-BuoCK_0Bt-dkP4yRSVLjfCXgGfcnTYRzraozQ_noABm0Kj_Iq4IK3Mgcy2tsv4/s1600/savannah_cemetery2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifpwBPCx3DCbK7xWfhaji0DPEx31hk69tEdouJhbMG_KvAH69JT0_s_ZT1PQLXcgmmUx9eDT76bQWB-BuoCK_0Bt-dkP4yRSVLjfCXgGfcnTYRzraozQ_noABm0Kj_Iq4IK3Mgcy2tsv4/s640/savannah_cemetery2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The east wall of the cemetery is constructed of brick and errant tombstones. Over the years, and through Civil War occupancies, the cemetery's gravestones were moved around. The result is that thousands of grave sites are missing their stones. Some were built into the back wall as a way to preserve them.</div>
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If you zoom to read this stone, you'll see that Joseph Muir was 11 years old when he died. His wife was 17, and their son was 12. Huh? This is an example of the pranks that Sherman's soldiers played while they camped out in the cemetery during the Civil War.<br />
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This is a strip of park just over the south fence of the cemetery. At the other end is a playground, but know what this once was? Dueling grounds. Men paced off in this exact grassy field and dueled with swords and later, with pistols. I think it's hilarious that the City of Savannah has turned it into a park with a children's playground. Whatever the history, it's beautiful, like everything else in the city.<br />
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<br />Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-15723335710118816252011-09-14T07:00:00.000-04:002011-09-14T10:13:07.689-04:00Wordless Wednesday: More Pancake Rory Time<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">video link: </span><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W6TbkTWK8Oo"><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W6TbkTWK8Oo</span></a><br />
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Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-87233807451132501632011-09-13T07:00:00.000-04:002011-09-13T08:59:44.675-04:00Savannah Photos: Part 2<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgybTTdBn2nhZFArsPeb7FAsh3EB78lYJ8_ON4esBOa6XXq04Ic6STjo90FW9ByMy74z2R2lQY_u0wWjD9gqy10jlELyhUPBNPxwKFxTgVLVfDRK7mRG4K-QjypBQlMLW30gNrllVWlcFE/s1600/waterfront3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgybTTdBn2nhZFArsPeb7FAsh3EB78lYJ8_ON4esBOa6XXq04Ic6STjo90FW9ByMy74z2R2lQY_u0wWjD9gqy10jlELyhUPBNPxwKFxTgVLVfDRK7mRG4K-QjypBQlMLW30gNrllVWlcFE/s640/waterfront3.jpg" width="358" /></a></div>
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The historic downtown district of Savannah was built - like many other old cities - along the riverfront, where it's still one of the country's busiest shipping ports. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1c2C5zWF85fQLI1xg7KxsWzh6Hzb8PhvUPMEl9q9pBxAI_4Do7jGG9OBNS9zIz2vZMaJ_KHpggn7tDxN-XvGcCFRH4NP80YIpT1jtmo0SNxNyFXihBluDDX6bXTDXwhHdlxxdwDW5goY/s1600/waterfront4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1c2C5zWF85fQLI1xg7KxsWzh6Hzb8PhvUPMEl9q9pBxAI_4Do7jGG9OBNS9zIz2vZMaJ_KHpggn7tDxN-XvGcCFRH4NP80YIpT1jtmo0SNxNyFXihBluDDX6bXTDXwhHdlxxdwDW5goY/s640/waterfront4.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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Did I mention that Rory came with us? She's seriously the best road-tripper. All she asks is that I share my french fries and let her sleep on the hotel bed. (She's relegated to a dog bed every other night, but vacation mode means I let her sleep on a real, albeit uncomfortable, bed.)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf1da7S99SAgIpauxsVPVoZ_HEA8Mt3LTkR2fu1wSofrZ3Q2ImRKWKAS18caeobQp6PgI-JCJwQGLk9nwcqCRwAiVcmPQcG_WE1UcwEvjzTDwBR0vfTtDfzqWeYn_Z4nt-sbGvUMrfSeU/s1600/Brian_Rory_savannah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf1da7S99SAgIpauxsVPVoZ_HEA8Mt3LTkR2fu1wSofrZ3Q2ImRKWKAS18caeobQp6PgI-JCJwQGLk9nwcqCRwAiVcmPQcG_WE1UcwEvjzTDwBR0vfTtDfzqWeYn_Z4nt-sbGvUMrfSeU/s640/Brian_Rory_savannah.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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At the street level are a lot of shops and restaurants and places to buy trinkets.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRDJKM72D05fKYxkuyZfFLavk59MncWbJwcLgX49sBHBF_d3bTJmNUXx8XVIxIWdSwlMspWhjo_xUL3BzGr-TkI36g1K83XbOJsgbyR9rW4FK-qr6N7vJLRiW-ultgCzCWdRZex0uae5w/s1600/waterfront1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRDJKM72D05fKYxkuyZfFLavk59MncWbJwcLgX49sBHBF_d3bTJmNUXx8XVIxIWdSwlMspWhjo_xUL3BzGr-TkI36g1K83XbOJsgbyR9rW4FK-qr6N7vJLRiW-ultgCzCWdRZex0uae5w/s640/waterfront1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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But what I was most interested in was the upper floors of these old buildings. I was dying to see what they looked like on the inside and how they'd fared <i>two hundred years</i> in existence. Do people still live up on those floors? Are there relics from forever ago? Could I find photos of the insides of the apartments in Craigslist rental listings? Such are the ways my conniving and scheming brain works.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGLwa-aeH_fzTOQhb6Frlvo6Gx7zkvyqpRGmEkvhWg5xe7HO-PdnAOskyKj_LMtgjfHIwm3zLT_7249mwFqgryzOBCg3j8bPMlwHCCM34l8mZHKHILAVxs22GbdK6fH2yvdecDEKvbmp8/s1600/waterfront2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGLwa-aeH_fzTOQhb6Frlvo6Gx7zkvyqpRGmEkvhWg5xe7HO-PdnAOskyKj_LMtgjfHIwm3zLT_7249mwFqgryzOBCg3j8bPMlwHCCM34l8mZHKHILAVxs22GbdK6fH2yvdecDEKvbmp8/s640/waterfront2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Every so often a gap between the buildings would reveal an alley-like walkway leading to a steep set of stairs. I tried to capture how steep all the stairways were down at the waterfront, but I just couldn't. But they were so steep that I had to watch my footing while wearing <i>flats</i>, and I assume many, many poor folks fell to an untimely death after having a bit too much hard cider and trying to navigate those stairs.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvu0k45Lis1e7Ra5qucpHWw-bG94PWwloKg2bqaXb3za7HuR25co5etmoc2seUPx-_GrqQVuUBhPKlUp5y7wHE1gii8f_N3GyqLdbUEVq6fCj3UUdMTGtX-deLTPlO0hB4tMLORMhNRiE/s1600/stairs_waterfront1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvu0k45Lis1e7Ra5qucpHWw-bG94PWwloKg2bqaXb3za7HuR25co5etmoc2seUPx-_GrqQVuUBhPKlUp5y7wHE1gii8f_N3GyqLdbUEVq6fCj3UUdMTGtX-deLTPlO0hB4tMLORMhNRiE/s640/stairs_waterfront1.jpg" width="358" /></a></div>
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Looking down the same set of the crazy steep stairways. There is a set of stairs, then the landing you can see with a trash can, then another set of stairs. Now look back to the photo above to picture that. And wave hello to the family I accidentally caught in my photo!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuQMWUQbE_V7FumSv0Hpkh_Rb1YsBR8bNNO-NCxNqVEQu8ZneEHR6aQynweAV2yHEAMVsstmU75YAnFQEI3HSvPqi_uVKFtxDcuq158wHXAdJ910TxJbZMxt-rxtS09r1gWCUWLi9pfyw/s1600/stairs_waterfront2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuQMWUQbE_V7FumSv0Hpkh_Rb1YsBR8bNNO-NCxNqVEQu8ZneEHR6aQynweAV2yHEAMVsstmU75YAnFQEI3HSvPqi_uVKFtxDcuq158wHXAdJ910TxJbZMxt-rxtS09r1gWCUWLi9pfyw/s640/stairs_waterfront2.jpg" width="358" /></a></div>
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Awwww, Stinks* :)</div>
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* aka Rory<br />
aka Missy<br />
aka Little Miss<br />
aka Poopsie Lou<br />
aka Smellers<br />
aka The Mongrel<br />
aka Broken Sniffer<br />
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aka Lona</div>
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aka ....</div>
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Yes, I have a problem. And I fear for my future children.<br />
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<br />Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-47261692224687352652011-09-12T07:00:00.000-04:002011-09-12T09:36:48.158-04:00Savannah Photos: Part 1<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdXZqkPbgAnxuzHEDMoBIHHjqHhmZXQlwV6RcsLyYK6zesxEUBRl8AXbyKKVcOQAoqGO77zI0T93ZiY9huMhyphenhyphen1Yq7H4_5DSbotab3O4-IrMU7ZBFFkNSYtttuWJLSYAlIngIb-JdPXe1w/s1600/savannah_parks1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdXZqkPbgAnxuzHEDMoBIHHjqHhmZXQlwV6RcsLyYK6zesxEUBRl8AXbyKKVcOQAoqGO77zI0T93ZiY9huMhyphenhyphen1Yq7H4_5DSbotab3O4-IrMU7ZBFFkNSYtttuWJLSYAlIngIb-JdPXe1w/s640/savannah_parks1.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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At last! Photos from our Labor Day road trip to Savannah!</div>
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If you ever go to Savannah, definitely absolutely positively plan to take a bus tour of the city. There are at least three different companies offering historic tours, and each is right around $25 a person to go. At first, I hesitated at the cost, but after five minutes on the tour, I decided that it was worth every penny. </div>
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Our tour guide pointed out all the historical buildings and gave stories and anecdotes and trivia about everything along our way. She gave a solid 90 minute talking tour through the historical downtown area, and it was leaps and bounds more interesting (and efficient) than anything I could have read. I recommend doing the whole historical tour first, and then deciding where you'd like to spend more time. Also - if you do the tour, the left hand side of the bus always faces the park squares, and the right side of the bus faces all the historic building and houses. I was on the left side of the bus, and didn't get to take any good photos of the buildings I immediately fell in love with.</div>
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About those squares - The city of Savannah was planned in 1733, around park-like squares. Wikipedia has a great description of Savannah's squares: </div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">Each square sits (or, in some cases, <i>sat</i>) at the center of a ward, which often shares its name with its square. The lots to the east and west of the squares, flanking the major east-west axis, were considered "trust lots" in the original city plan and intended for large public buildings such as churches, schools, or markets. The remainder of the ward was divided into four areas, called <i>tythings</i>, each of which was further divided into ten residential lots.</span></div>
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<a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/3/3b/SchematicSavannahSquare.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/3/3b/SchematicSavannahSquare.jpg" width="315" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msid=206447145665628405236.00047169fb120b42ba4c8&msa=0&ll=32.075011,-81.087942&spn=0.02011,0.042272">This google map</a> is a fantastic listing along with the year each square was established.:</div>
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<a href="http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF8&source=embed&oe=UTF8&msa=0&msid=108110672100246365020.00047169fb120b42ba4c8" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTXOuwKUy2Xeq2780Fuib54wT6Jt2D6IMK19lF-mAc3pYbuoZaVU7Stc3QfuskzEfg-g99DQa8n_uku8hZXW2V-1uPy_5gGBiS1PgZw22uw6rDmSnS6TNwPLMyqiOP-Mjzw5ql-j4tMik/s320/squares_map.JPG" width="236" /></a></div>
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The most famous is Chippewa Square, where Forest Gump was filmed.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibKGxx2CfV9sbBYCCbXXuNBSK19XG_8NBa4OMnck8_hGzPnFXwkOE6j0YuDQy-I76U6-Pa_Fisko-sRRwcpt5oKBCL8MSyq7riMmgEgxyQfyFa7p1Ay47lA8TCq4UI50xK_h-El564Ht0/s1600/savannah_parks2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibKGxx2CfV9sbBYCCbXXuNBSK19XG_8NBa4OMnck8_hGzPnFXwkOE6j0YuDQy-I76U6-Pa_Fisko-sRRwcpt5oKBCL8MSyq7riMmgEgxyQfyFa7p1Ay47lA8TCq4UI50xK_h-El564Ht0/s640/savannah_parks2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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So, of course, while we were on our bus tour, this guy came running at our bus and our driver let him on. And then explained that he didn't need the bus to get where he was going :)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDzbSFGcruH3KTrNHFzIpcQxgQT7YYJFETe1tdXOBpZjyk3ISZEYQglwCK0Pn75nI9-SFFsg5GuX9n-uR2BSVOfTzDBpLcHkGUwonxKQ-1Fd5XMikO-RI8ztn2ZWt_mMwHxnerhR0Lh1o/s1600/savannah_forrest.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDzbSFGcruH3KTrNHFzIpcQxgQT7YYJFETe1tdXOBpZjyk3ISZEYQglwCK0Pn75nI9-SFFsg5GuX9n-uR2BSVOfTzDBpLcHkGUwonxKQ-1Fd5XMikO-RI8ztn2ZWt_mMwHxnerhR0Lh1o/s400/savannah_forrest.jpg" width="225" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0zpsQgjBnQjnfD4fWZ_-NoI2be7RcPj4vo-8P1I2yp1DPgLIyQ9LvAufqeGb6vWXaq6iJ1eqSDTbLlA6PHl96hJWvkWc4D3kn_nIVVrj5nH8zBJTxxWJhoUXGPqrkFEzk9rSzVvnSFgA/s1600/savannah_forrest2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0zpsQgjBnQjnfD4fWZ_-NoI2be7RcPj4vo-8P1I2yp1DPgLIyQ9LvAufqeGb6vWXaq6iJ1eqSDTbLlA6PHl96hJWvkWc4D3kn_nIVVrj5nH8zBJTxxWJhoUXGPqrkFEzk9rSzVvnSFgA/s400/savannah_forrest2.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg82as7uarxHQkwcwxY8es280w-_TccZRb1yicUT-1K3enlvHQfVc8nC5tBBLyFhISqc-5mz29VCOFkDtklkiwP5C1__OUo5JpYpAK1n-C170SK50udRSq7lQQqSZmfz-60kdJHWJEXQXU/s1600/savannah_parks7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg82as7uarxHQkwcwxY8es280w-_TccZRb1yicUT-1K3enlvHQfVc8nC5tBBLyFhISqc-5mz29VCOFkDtklkiwP5C1__OUo5JpYpAK1n-C170SK50udRSq7lQQqSZmfz-60kdJHWJEXQXU/s640/savannah_parks7.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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Me! Completely sweaty and sticky, sitting at the fountain in Johnson Square - the first square in Savannah, built in 1733. I was sitting in a park established 278 years ago. <i>Crazy </i>to think about.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTRJJF2vZls4JzWmt3xvXv_vWzt30ciymTaPgPuFzq-DKgkF20zoWeDIsAXoWePpxkkXACcO_6vg4JxgL5v6CpbCyWDnP9qZ5-fBcomzv93OPpkKrCKyTIw333LeA20wLPECBlgZMPuQk/s1600/savannah_parks8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTRJJF2vZls4JzWmt3xvXv_vWzt30ciymTaPgPuFzq-DKgkF20zoWeDIsAXoWePpxkkXACcO_6vg4JxgL5v6CpbCyWDnP9qZ5-fBcomzv93OPpkKrCKyTIw333LeA20wLPECBlgZMPuQk/s640/savannah_parks8.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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I still have a whole slew of photos, including the food and the cemetery (but not together)! My hope is to get them all up this week...Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-81846253233607887492011-09-01T03:30:00.000-04:002011-09-01T03:30:00.800-04:00Road TripYou'll never guess where we're headed tomorrow for a quick road trip!<br />
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Hints:</div>
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<a href="http://savannah.locale.com/media/galleries/savannah+ga/area+info/forsyth_park_fountain_savannah_ga_dscf8360.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://savannah.locale.com/media/galleries/savannah+ga/area+info/forsyth_park_fountain_savannah_ga_dscf8360.jpg" xaa="true" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://images.frontdoor.com/FDOOR/0-City-Pages/Savannah/Skyline_Savannah_Area_CVB_54893.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://images.frontdoor.com/FDOOR/0-City-Pages/Savannah/Skyline_Savannah_Area_CVB_54893.jpg" xaa="true" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://www.easy-relocations.net/art/cities/GA/Savannah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.easy-relocations.net/art/cities/GA/Savannah.jpg" xaa="true" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://images03.olx.com/ui/11/49/67/1302629821_183464267_1-Pictures-of--vacation-station-savannah-ga.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://images03.olx.com/ui/11/49/67/1302629821_183464267_1-Pictures-of--vacation-station-savannah-ga.jpg" xaa="true" /></a></div>
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Answer? <strong><a href="http://maps.google.com/maps?q=savannah,+ga&hl=en&ll=32.030199,-81.104507&spn=0.208106,0.439453&gbv=2&z=12&vpsrc=6">Here!!</a></strong></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">image sources:</span></div>
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<a href="http://savannah.locale.com/GA-orientation/"><span style="font-size: x-small;">1</span></a><span style="font-size: x-small;">, </span><a href="http://www.frontdoor.com/city-guide/savannah-ga-usa/profile-savannah-georgia"><span style="font-size: x-small;">2</span></a><span style="font-size: x-small;">, </span><a href="http://photos.igougo.com/pictures-photos-p231537-Savannah.html"><span style="font-size: x-small;">3</span></a><span style="font-size: x-small;">, </span><a href="http://www.easy-relocations.net/Georgia/Savannah.cfm?source=ezrelo"><span style="font-size: x-small;">4</span></a><span style="font-size: x-small;">, </span><a href="http://savannah-georgia.olx.com/vacation-station-savannah-ga-iid-183464267"><span style="font-size: x-small;">5</span></a></div>
Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-61554212406904783602011-08-31T09:07:00.000-04:002011-08-31T09:07:15.700-04:00Hurdle Jumped.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://sarandipitysweets.blogspot.com/2011/08/saying-sad-farewell.html" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTQf_XeyB7kB1kCR4eR7uuxNL4yGdIXCO7FLXJeYtfKpL6caxqUVVMaQA1_APL98QosbQkjSM2GZp5v1EpUcAy-1jWG7SYga4Bo5aXoUYPSVBfIQ_-AkAj1rgiyPSHNpR5gg7s75qSmkA/s400/goodbye.JPG" width="386" xaa="true" /></a></div>
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I did it. I said goodbye. <br />
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I posted notice on my website. I put Etsy in permanent vacation mode. I've officially closed up shop. And while I'm still feeling a bit antsy about all of this, I know that given a couple of days, I'll feel calmer and calmer and begin to enjoy my newly reclaimed freedom.<br />
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Already, I can feel my face more relaxed and less pinched. And, I'm not feeling as frantic as I go through the steps of each day. I've had two friends interrupt me to say that I look happier and healthy. My mental to-do list has dwindled from a thousand entries to somewhere near twenty-five.<br />
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Ahhh. I just can't begin to put a price on that. Sometimes, I forget how much my well-being is worth. I hope you'll jump in and remind me from time to time. I certainly need a nudge every now and then when it comes to considering myself a priority. <br />
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This feels good. Great, even.<br />
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<strong><a href="http://sarandipitysweets.blogspot.com/2011/08/saying-sad-farewell.html">Saying A Sad Farewell on Sarandipity Sweets blog</a></strong></div>
Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-81855371189228958142011-08-30T08:23:00.002-04:002011-08-30T08:24:27.948-04:00Cooking with Sara: A Toast to You, and A Toast to Me<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizUieYabpYzt8iM75O33Rm25CXmtIkVzEk6WGDjQP-emFDLDg2RVBRJxsE0yFwf59jdLRbrApObpyJ_EuoNTOPIP3wwqQTD8mGbf1H0Pu7KWgATu-tAObiOKEH9SnPaOVo4xqwIc1KzOk/s1600/porchcrawlers2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizUieYabpYzt8iM75O33Rm25CXmtIkVzEk6WGDjQP-emFDLDg2RVBRJxsE0yFwf59jdLRbrApObpyJ_EuoNTOPIP3wwqQTD8mGbf1H0Pu7KWgATu-tAObiOKEH9SnPaOVo4xqwIc1KzOk/s640/porchcrawlers2.jpg" width="542" /></a></div>
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That part about feeling as if I'm on vacation? It's translated over to the things I'm whipping up in the kitchen. Specifically, pink fruity drinks to be enjoyed out on a sunshiney patio. Next thing you know, I'll be crafting itty bitty cocktail umbrellas by hand. Watch out, folks. The girl's got time on her hands.<br />
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://blahtota-daa.blogspot.com/2011/08/watermelon-sangria.html">Watermelon Sangria on From Blah to Ta-Daa</a></span></b></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://blahtota-daa.blogspot.com/2011/08/pink-porchcrawlers.html">Pink Porchcrawlers on From Blah to Ta-Daa</a></span></b></div>
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Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-53175490971236324222011-08-29T04:00:00.000-04:002011-08-29T04:00:00.921-04:00Dragging My Feet. Or Maybe Just My Toes, A Little.<br />
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It's getting to be that time. That time where I need to make a definite, written-in-unbleached flour decision about the future of Sarandipity. I'm 99.5% sure of my answer. But I'm dreading the notification and general alerting portion of my steps ahead. I was hoping to ride out this little break until cooler weather, but I'm already being bombarded by requests for October orders, and I just can't put off replying to these people. Sigh. <br />
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But on a completely lighter note, I'm thoroughly enjoying all this "time off." It's pretty telling that having paused Sarandipity feels like being on vacation when I'm still putting in my 8 to 5 somewhere else. I feel as if I have room to breathe and the space to pause and look around at the world. It feels as if my eyes are looking upward instead of assuming a head-down, completely focused approach to each day. <br />
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Because when I have more time to relax and breathe and feel comfortable in my skin, I do highly important things like this:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhce5ZRnPnGrVEtrAiZcPKO6JWqXfF3O6UfA76ZV2w_w6sgGFfN7ChGYtHBqxznUZ5jwbh2ANlVhFPLqxhQS3pHHQSWiwbuBRFLHjCcHhO_BGDEaoQL920cOQF2xp6nVD-1w-alRLzSKzU/s1600/rory_cape1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhce5ZRnPnGrVEtrAiZcPKO6JWqXfF3O6UfA76ZV2w_w6sgGFfN7ChGYtHBqxznUZ5jwbh2ANlVhFPLqxhQS3pHHQSWiwbuBRFLHjCcHhO_BGDEaoQL920cOQF2xp6nVD-1w-alRLzSKzU/s640/rory_cape1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzUvmzxs6qc5AZBQ4zREZaBYxz41sVPv7XLtS1q2YdhLG6g9PaWpia5Htbq3xruLCu_TrVQKIip25xKXvRWe_ddRZ7wDL6VruX2L9Hxx6GcrQMMQozt1qc6sydEsntk2mFSdciFRIg_vk/s1600/rory_cape5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzUvmzxs6qc5AZBQ4zREZaBYxz41sVPv7XLtS1q2YdhLG6g9PaWpia5Htbq3xruLCu_TrVQKIip25xKXvRWe_ddRZ7wDL6VruX2L9Hxx6GcrQMMQozt1qc6sydEsntk2mFSdciFRIg_vk/s640/rory_cape5.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">{ yawn.} Time for us to go relax some more.</span></td></tr>
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<br />Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-57591478175772232032011-08-26T07:30:00.000-04:002011-08-26T07:30:13.237-04:00Sugar Substitutes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1KL_Y6HCHMA-1qBo2VSU386zOsAnTNAuOcqeMUhZktFGE9Zaqf1WQT_-63Y_v12E-LiIzodD6IFDHkwzL8vrGDjCNrqW0duvwJ0dAls2MC247MrqUSnsT9OGqJdmmqD9tI5lnhMXnlbY/s1600/meatballs8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" qaa="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1KL_Y6HCHMA-1qBo2VSU386zOsAnTNAuOcqeMUhZktFGE9Zaqf1WQT_-63Y_v12E-LiIzodD6IFDHkwzL8vrGDjCNrqW0duvwJ0dAls2MC247MrqUSnsT9OGqJdmmqD9tI5lnhMXnlbY/s640/meatballs8.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Want to hear something mildly shocking? I've cut nearly all the sugar from my diet. <br />
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For the average person, this might be no feat worth bragging about, but for me? Well. It's life-changing. I may as well have decided to start speaking in Pig Latin all day, it's that big a deal. Not eating sugar is a conscious choice that I must make throughout my entire day. "No sugar, Sara. Choose something else." <br />
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Why put myself through the agony of finding other ways to quiet my grumbling stomach? Another bit you may not know about me is that I've got a stubborn case of acne. I've been battling it for six years since my body was mucked up by taking (and then quitting) The Pill. I've tried all the popular cleansers, drinking lots of water, taking vitamins, using no fabric softeners, using "free &amp; clear" laundry detergents, changing my pillowcases twice a week, and on and on. I did discover, a few years ago, that eliminating dairy from my diet cleared up all the breakouts on my forehead. It was a huge breakthrough moment for me, because you cannot put a price on feeling even a tiny bit less embarrassed. </div>
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But, my skin took a turn for the worse last December. I began battling painful acne on my neck and jawline, and each new spot took a month to heal. And it kept getting worse and kept leaving marks and kept making me sad. Because I agree with everything I've read that says acne is the outward evidence of a hormonal imbalance, I've started giving more thought to what I eat. And, it's no surprise that I eat quite a bit of sugar. Quite a bit. Having Sarandipity orders in front of me three nights a week is an obvious source of sugar. But, I also turn to baking sugary treats as a means to relieve stress. Which, of course, I eat. Every last crumb is devoured, because, seriously, I bake delicious things. </div>
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So, after reading comment after comment written by acne sufferers who cleared up after cleaning out the sugar, I decided to step up and try it myself. And then, I bumped into <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/dr-mark-hyman/do-milk-and-sugar-cause-a_b_822163.html">this article</a>, detailing how both dairy and sugar throw insulin and hormones out of balance, and it sealed the deal for me. I've long had issues with sudden drops in my blood sugar, so I'm now thinking in terms of the things I can do to keep it even, eliminating the steep peaks and drops. </div>
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And, here we are. Seven treat-less days under my belt. The only place where sweet has maintained its stronghold is in my coffee. I've cut out the Splenda, but I haven't yet managed to cut out the flavored creamer. I'm weaning myself off it; my coffee is looking more and more like a sad watery brown instead of a lovely, cozy, and delicious shade of tan. But I'm content making baby steps there right now.</div>
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I've dropped the treats, the sugar, and I've quit serving starchy carbs with dinner. It sounds like a lot, and it has been a huge transition. But, I'm feeling extremely proud of myself for sticking to this. And, I'm finding joy in new foods - The crunch of a roasted almond. The variety of fruits I had previously bypassed when grocery shopping. The versatility of quinoa. The way a delicious sauce completely changes the taste of an entire dish. The rainbow of color I put into every meal. <br />
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I'm learning new ways to love food. And there are still so many foods I can love.<br />
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<br />Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4098239917708850731.post-48244535719365373162011-08-23T09:00:00.001-04:002011-08-23T09:00:37.757-04:00Cooking with Sara: Salmon Patties with Lemon Sauce<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://blahtota-daa.blogspot.com/2011/08/salmon-patties-with-lemon-sauce.html">Salmon Patties with Lemon Sauce on From Blah to Ta-Daa</a></span></strong><br />
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Yep. I cooked again. I kinda have a habit of doing that regularly. Every oh, say, <i>day</i>. But, this week, my meal plan contains five new recipes, so I'll be doing tons of experimenting and note-taking in the kitchen over the next few days. Do you jot notes down while you cook? I only do for new recipes, but I find it really helps later, when I want to remember what changes I made to a recipe - because I'm forever making changes! So, I'll be cooking and jotting and cooking and jotting every night this week. Do you have any interesting plans for the week?</div>
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Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04540657332826963453noreply@blogger.com0