This mini crepe paper flower favor tutorial over at Oh Happy Day is the sweetest!

...for your thursday: an embroidery pattern, elephant plush, cutie pie, and cat gift bags {via alli}.

What's the best fortune you've ever gotten? Earlier this week, Stefan and I went out to celebrate Chinese New Year and these were in our fortune cookies. Oddly similar but opposite: mine said You will have good luck in the winter and his said You will have good luck in the summer.

...this furniture, this print, these display boxes {via melissa}, and this cherry ganache tart.

I'm thrilled to share that Mignon Kitchen Co. is now open!

Over the past year, I've become increasingly in love with spending time in the kitchen and giving homemade food to others as gifts. I knew I wanted to make something bigger related to that process, but I wasn't sure what. Then, slowly, the idea of Mignon came together: an online shop that carries goods for the kitchen and pantry, wares for setting a lovely table, and packaging supplies for giving homemade food as gifts.

A lot of things in the shop are small, intended for scaled down recipes. Some are made by hand. One of them is handmade by me. A few of them are especially for Valentine's Day. All of them are things that I love.

You can visit the shop here. I'd love for you to take a peek. If nothing else, I just hope that putting Mignon out there will inspire someone to spend more time in the kitchen. To quote Julia Child, “It's so beautifully arranged on the plate – you know someone's fingers have been all over it.”

   On clear nights, the creature came out of the woods and wandered through our town. My little brother called it the noche perro; he had been teaching himself Spanish ever since a pretty exchange student from Córdoba was assigned to his class. ("Doesn't she speak English?" asked our father, over dinner. "Yes," said my brother, "but that's not the point." Then, to me: "Lindy, pass the butter, por favor.")
   He was wrong about the creature, though – it wasn't a perro at all. It was much too big, hairy, and aware of its surroundings. I had seen it dig through our neighbor's trash cans, and it was methodical in its ways, eating certain pieces and throwing back others after a moment of consideration. I had seen it bury something in the Andersons' garden. I had seen it hide from a cat, retreating into a shadow until the tabby crossed the street. But even when the creature reemerged, it looked uneasy, as if at any moment the cat might come running back and attack.

   Then some of the PTA moms got wind of the creature. They said it was sniffing around the schoolyard. They spoke to the local news, claiming that two of the neighborhood cats were missing. When they realized that the creature was after nothing more than our garbage, they insisted that everyone hide their trash cans in their garages at night.
  "Now this monster will leave us alone," they said.

   When the creature came back, it seemed confused. Where there had once been bins stuffed with dinner scraps and plastic packaging and used tissue, there were now only round depressions in the grass. From house to house, it found the same thing – except at one. Outside of our house, the creature found a brown lunch bag, and inside the bag, my lunch. A peanut butter and honey sandwich. Half an apple. Some crackers. The creature sniffed at the food, gave a moment of thought, and then removed the sandwich from its plastic bag. It ate the bag, chewing slowly, and then took the sandwich in its mouth and started walking back toward the street. It looked back only once, glancing up toward my bedroom window. I saw the the glow of its small, oval eyes, and then I ducked out of sight.