Scenes from Saturday + Sugar & Flour

Less than week left of eight grade for Cecilia. Which means less than a week of her returning home and my asking “How was your day?” and she responds, “Good.” “What did you do?” “Nothing.”

I realize that “Nothing” actually means “How am I supposed to answer that? Being fourteen is insane. Middle school is sorta insane. There are so many positive, exciting, hopeful, scary, sad, and disappointing things happening at the exact same time.”

So maybe I’m not asking the right question. Or maybe she’s tired of being asked. Maybe “How are you? or How was your day?” really are hard questions. Maybe I’ll think of better questions in high school.

A Saturday that starts with breakfast hand pies sets the bar high.

Come join our running group! All our group runs end with carbs and champagne.

Slight exaggeration but I was wrong above. Hand pies and champagne before 9 am really set the bar high.

If you are playing along at home and have vacuuming on your bingo card. Fill in that square.

You know Michelle is serious when she by passes the easy cordless vac and brings out the big boy.

We didn’t stop at hand pies. We put our stores of flour, butter, and sugar to the test.

Chocolate chip pound cake is a simple and easy crowd-pleaser that makes both kids and adults smile.

I know there’s a joke here about a well-used Bundt pan but I just can’t quite find it.

Said it before, but the unexpected yet key ingredient in a good soft and pillowy Sicilican pizza is the grated potato.

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Dance recital is next weekend. Hair prep has begun.

A rare open triple at the big house today. Usually, the main transfer house is a mess of nerves, anxiety, and crooked cars as people try to fancy park under pressure.

We spent the afternoon watching some friends star in the community theater edition of Puffs.

I thoroughly enjoyed all the nerdy, rapid fire Harry Potter jokes and ephemera. Our girls have never read nor watched the movies and were completely lost but this was a really fun production.

Then it was back to the house for another week of pizza. It’s tough.

It did take quite a few years of force-feeding the girls pizza before they realized that homemade pies were vastly superior than any town takeout.

I’m now working on educating their friends.

This is Tim. His favorite pizza is a frozen Red Baron. For now.

Finally, if you had Ally spontaneous dance break while cleaning up on your board. Fill in that square!

Have a great Sunday!


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