Milo Love

Two Monday’s ago, March 6th, marked 1 year since we got Milo. I’m obviously not super on top of my life- otherwise this would’ve been posted, oh, two Monday’s again. But being the good dog mom that I am, I did schedule him to get his shot updates on that day. Oops.

Milo came into our lives because there was a space that needed to be filled. I was working days, Josh had no schedule with the railroad- but he primarily worked evenings, overnights, and weekends. We moved into our house in November 2015, and very quickly the big house we bought to grow into felt very lonely. We were planning our future together, but we were just sharing a house- we felt like roommates who just passed each other in the hall sometimes.

We both grew up with dogs. We both consider ourselves dog people. Almost immediately after getting into our house, which had a prime dog backyard already fenced in, we started looking on PetFinder and all the possible rescue agencies within a couple hundred miles of us. We met a couple other dogs and filled out some applications- but it was never right.

In March, we saw a picture of a dog online. They were at the Council Bluffs Humane Society. We were in Omaha, so we figured we would drive over and see this dog. The dog we were going to see was not Milo.

When we arrived, we walked into where the dogs were. Milo’s spot was right inside the door. We looked at him and he sat and looked at us and wagged his tail. We walked down the row to actually look at the dog we came to see- that dog didn’t look like we thought it would from the picture. So we walked back and stared again at Milo. Literally. My memory is of Josh and I just standing there looking at him, and him looking back at us. He was the only dog in that whole place not barking. We asked to see him.

They brought us into a small room and brought him in. I sat on the floor and he sat on my lap. He played catch with Josh. About 10 minutes later, they asked us if we wanted to take him home. We must’ve had a look of shock and panic and joy, because they said they would give us a few minutes to think about it. We couldn’t let him get away. So as two people who, quite frankly suck at making impulse decisions, we did just that. We brought him out to our car to go home. (The photos below were the pictures we took meeting him at the humane society and then 2 hours after we busted him out of there).

Turns out, that was his first hour on the adoption floor. He was an owner surrender- so we kept his name as Milo. He was surrendered probably by a military family that was getting relocated. He knew how to sit, was kennel trained, and was potty trained. Where ever he was before, you could tell he was loved there. We are happy he ended up in our lives. He had adapted to our life in less than a day. His hobbies include sitting on the patio, chasing a laser, car rides anything involving water, and watching the neighborhood out the front door. As you can see, he has a very hard life :D.

He bridged our lives when we couldn’t be together. He filled the space that once felt very empty. He gave both of us something to come home to. Milo provided each of us with someone to talk to and someone to cuddle with.

On March 6th 2016, we rescued Milo. And on that same day in March, he rescued us.

Travel Thoughts and Twinkies 

This past weekend, I made the journey across states to head back home. I haven’t done the trip by myself in quite a while. Typically, I would have at least Milo with and sometimes Josh too. With Josh having a better work schedule now, he is able to fulfill more of a role as pet parent and he kept Milo for my weekend with my family in Minnesota. One way, it’s about a 7 hour drive (so 14 hours round trip). I spend 2 days just traveling. Which is why I only make the trip about every 6-8 weeks.

Some people say they worry about me when I do the drive on my own. But I relish it. 14 hours is a lot of think time. And snack time. Let’s be serious. It’s amazing where the mind can take you when all you have to do is sit and drive across 3 states. Here’s how my solo drive went, in no particular order.

*Gorging on cheddar sour cream chips and caramel bugles. Caramel bugles are salty sweet goodness. Make sure you have some in your life.

*Reliving moments in time. Because there’s something about replaying memories to help pass the time.

*Filling the full cast of several musicals. My current guilty pleasure is Hamilton. History has never been my subject of choice, but I can throw down a historical rap with the best of them.

*Planning out logistics of going back to school-with several different timelines.

*Shopping plans, to-do lists, meal planning for next week, and so on.

The reason I traveled to MN was for my mother. She turned 50 on Monday. One time when we were traveling, she said to me “If I was ever in an accident, I would want it to be with a Twinkie truck. Because then all the Twinkies will come flying at me.” I recently got the book “Duff Bakes”. I got into baking from watching Ace of Cakes on Food Network in the basement of my childhood home. I like to think that Duff is my baking spirit animal. In his book, there is a recipe for homemade Twinkies. And since my moms dream is to have Twinkies come flying at her, it seemed only fitting to change it up from cake to Twinkies for the big half century birthday.

The pan I used is the “delectovals” pan from Wilton. Aka, a pan with Twinkie shapes. I obviously overfilled a little bit. The recipe said it would make 18, and I got 12. But I now see that I could’ve easily got 18.


Because I overfilled, I cut a straight edge with a serrated knife. It was pretty easy to see where my straight edge should be. Serrated knives are my favorite- so great for cutting cake and bread.



Then I mixed up the filling. The filling included marshmallow fluff. Marshmallow fluff tops the list of my least favorite things to bake with (it’s right up there with sour cream). It’s so sticky and you feel like you have it in all the crevices of your hands and kitchen for days. To put the filling in, I took a circle piping tip and pushed it into the straight edge of the cake in 3 spots.

The reaction of everyone seeing the container on the counter was “Are those Twinkies?!” My brother decided they were “Winkies” or “Twankies” because they weren’t exact Twinkies, but they were close- like an off brand. :)

When I make these again, I might substitute with all-purpose flour instead of cake flour. The cake part itself was good, but I’m just more likely to have all-purpose on hand. Also, my filling didn’t really go inside the Twinkie. It was just on the bottom. In the future, I will be pre-carving out little holes and then filling.

Can you believe this lady is 50?! Here’s to the best decade yet (aside from your 20s, because, you know, that’s when I appeared in your life :D). I’m so grateful to have such a strong and beautiful lady as my mom.

 

A White Dress and a Gray Suit

I could write a lot about our wedding day. I probably will- and I have no shame. We’ve been married for awhile now. Really, it’s been a little over a month, but for some reason it feels much longer than that. And on that day a month ago, I cried. More than I thought I would. More than anyone thought I would. But as I was walking down that aisle in the shadows of the two men who have raised me, I’ve never felt more sure of anything. Because through my tears, I saw my person. The one person that I couldn’t imagine my life without smiling back at me- waiting for me. When I hugged my 3 parents, they all told me a variation of “you did it”, “you’re doing good” and “you’re almost there”.

I’m not an overly emotional person. Blame my mom, blame my college major, whatever. I cry irrationally in private (because sometimes we all need a good cry so we can pick up and keep going). But in public, I’m not one to cry. In my choice of work,  I’ve learned how to keep my emotions in check. Keep my non-verbals under control. I used to work with a sexual assault/domestic violence program, and now work with families whose children are 3 years or younger and are getting special education services (some being diagnosed medical conditions, and other being things like speech delays). If I cried every time someone told me something sad, that just wouldn’t work well. I figured I would cry at the ceremony, because that’s the important part where we pledge before our family, friends, and God to commit our life to each other. I imagined I would cry at the first look, but only when Josh started crying (and that’s what happened). I was more surprised than anyone that I spent almost the entire day of October 15th wiping tears from my eyes. I would like to say it was because I’m wearing eyeliner, and I usually don’t wear make up. But the reality is that there was so much love and happiness surrounding Joshua and I that day, that my little body couldn’t handle it and hold it all inside. I will forever be grateful for all the people who traveled to share in our day.

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The ladies who do the organizing at the church told us that our wedding was the most respectful wedding party they’ve had in a long time. We seriously couldn’t have asked for a better wedding party. All of our closest friends, siblings, and cousins came together, in matching outfits, and helped make our day a beautiful one. Before the ceremony, the entire wedding party (with the exception of Josh), and some of the parents were ushered to the “baby cry room”. It’s a room off the back of the church that parents can bring their loud kids to during the services. The room has the sound system hooked up and also has a two way window- so the people inside can see out, but the people on the outside can’t see in. As the time to start was drawing near, the parents were ushered out of the room and the wedding party was told to line up. As the wedding party was walking out of the room, it left me with my former college roommate personal attendant and the flower girl in the room. When the doors were closing, Josh’s best man, Nick, turned around and winked at me. We have always joked that Nick is Josh’s boyfriend and I’m, well, now I’m the wife. Nick is like a brother to Josh and has turned into a brother to me (just like a brother, he is always there when I need him, but sometimes I really just want him to go away :D). I like to think that Nick winking was his way of giving his approval- that we were all about to walk down that aisle, and what was meant to be was going to happen. And with that wink, the tears started forming and Kristin offered me a tissue. I said I didn’t need it. Then Kristin and I stood behind that window and watched Josh seat our parents. Then our moms went up to light our baptism candles. Then all of our closest friends started walking. I rounded the corner out of that room, and there were my dads standing there with tears in their eyes. And I needed that tissue, because I couldn’t handle it anymore. I don’t think I have the words to describe that feeling of those 5 minutes of my life. I don’t think I ever will.

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Marriage. In the several weeks leading up to “the day”, Josh and I talked about how scared we were but how excited we were at the same time. We have some solid examples of marriage in our life, but we also both have divorced parents. And because we both have divorced parents, statistics would tell you that a lifelong marriage might not be in our cards. And you know what, that’s scary. But we’re going to try so hard to make it work, and at this moment in time, we couldn’t imagine our life without each other- and that’s exciting. In between the ceremony and reception, the wedding party hopped on a bus and went to a winery. As we were taking pictures, one of the owners came out with an unlabeled bottle. He said they just bottled the wine that afternoon, so it was probably about the same age as our marriage. He brought out a marker and had all of our wedding party sign the bottle. He told us to put some scotch tape over the seal, and tuck the bottle away for 5 years- because that’s when this kind of wine is best. He suggested we write ourselves a letter to stick with the bottle- with things like what we hope to have accomplished in 5 years and where we want to be. And on October 15, 2021- pull out the bottle and pull out the letter- and drink our wine and talk. We aren’t naive enough to think it’s going to be easy. It might not even be easy getting up to the time where we open the bottle. Because a lot can, and probably will, change in 5 years. We know we are going to have to work hard and choose love. But we made a promise and a vow that we would do just that.

 

Our day was spent at St Peter Catholic Church in Delano, Parley Lake Winery, and Lake Waconia Event Center. Our lovely pictures were taken by Halfway Creek Photography. A Facebook album of all our favorites will be coming in the near future.

Hearing The Music Again

For several years, dance was my life. And then I lost it.  I lost part of myself. I lost the thing that I looked forward to the most. Which is why the top of my list was:

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Freshman year of college, on a whim, I went to Swing Dance Club with someone on my floor. And I was hooked. East Coast Swing came easy for me. It wasn’t long before I was learning aerials. I loved it all. For 3 years, I looked forward to Wednesday nights. I looked forward to trips to the cities to go dancing. When I graduated college, I was President of the club. And it was sad to leave it. I have such great memories from those days. I made some of my greatest friendships in that club.

I had high hopes that I would keep dancing.

But then I didn’t.

When I was living back home, I think I drove up to the cities once. But it seemed like a long drive at night. And I was working 4pm-midnight. So it just wasn’t doable most of the time. (See, I’m over here still defending it to myself). Then I moved to Council Bluffs. Omaha has a great dance scene. But I wasn’t brave enough to go check it out on my own. I don’t know what it was- but the idea of going alone just wasn’t comforting to me. So I didn’t go. Then I moved again, and now I’m back to driving almost 1.5 hours to dance.

It’s strange losing a part of yourself, and knowing that you are consciously doing it, but not changing it. And just letting it fade away.

Josh knows I used to dance and really enjoyed it. He even let me try to teach him. But I couldn’t teach him. Which was so weird. I have taught so many people how to swing dance, but when it came to my own boyfriend, I couldn’t do it. I always imagined myself with someone who was a dancer. But in life, you don’t always draw the cards you think you want. Once we got engaged, I told Josh we were going to take a dance lesson. And he, surprisingly, said that was fine.

So we went to our lesson at Omaha Ballroom. We had a lesson with the owner, Elizabeth. And she did a East Coast Swing dance lesson. It was different for me to see East Coast from more of student side, because I feel like I’ve known it for so long. And I still remembered it. It’s like riding a bike- once you know it, you know it, and can do it without thinking about it. Josh did pretty good. She also taught us the Rumba basic step, and Josh and I both agreed that he did better at that.:)

As Josh and I were getting ready to leave, I told Elizabeth that I used to dance and I wanted to get back into it. She told me that she would put me with James, another dance instructor (and Elizabeth’s fiance at the time- husband now :D). I reached out to James on Facebook and we set a lesson.

I told Josh that I would love to do another lesson with him, but my lessons with James are something that I have to do for myself. Because since moving to Nebraska, I feel like I’m just wandering around. I need something that’s all for me- because I need a little self care in my life. At my first lesson, we were getting through a lot of material and moves (we started with West Coast Swing- since swing is what I know, but this style is different). At one point, James stopped and said something along the lines of “I need to tell you- you are a good follow. I’m throwing things at you, and you’re just following me. I can tell you have dance experience.” That’s what I needed. I needed to know that I still had it in me.

I believe it was on my third lesson, James asked me if I had been thinking about competing. Which is something I had thought about, not seriously and not with any high hopes, but I had thought about it. So now we are talking about competitions. I will be waiting to do competitions until after Josh and I get married, because there is only so many things I can smash into my life at a time. And as I’m in the final push of wedding planning, I realize my choice to wait to do competitions was a good one. But I’m glad that dance competitions will soon be a part of my story.

My current story consists of tulle and purple ribbon, handheld apple pies,

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a poster board size seating chart, bridal showers and weddings,

burlap and lace, and a bread machine.

Still Unwrapped

Usually, I’m really good at putting things in nice little bows and wrapping it up.

But that didn’t happen here. I dropped the ball on my little corner of the internet. I’m choosing to blame life.

I’m going to back up the train for a minute.

The Farmer’s Market has ended. Several, several months ago. It ended on a very cold day. I enjoyed parts of it. But for the most part, it became a chore for me. With the Farmer’s Market, it was something I had to do. I like having baking in my back pocket as a stress reliever. And I enjoy being the birthday baker for my family and friends. And my small scale selling. So maybe having a bakery is still a ways down the road- still a far off dream. I’m not doing the Farmer’s Market this year because I have a wedding to plan!

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My boyfriend turned into my fiance. He had this great plan for proposing, and I unfortunately failed him. If I would’ve just done what he asked me to, we would’ve had pictures of the event. Before getting engaged, I really thought I wanted to have a picture of it. But I’ve realized I’m glad that we don’t. I’m glad that it’s a moment that we can tell people about, but we were the only ones who were truly there. I’m glad that it is a moment and a memory for just the two of us to share. When we finally did get engaged, it was in the dark of the night down by the water. And I said “Are you seriously doing this right now?!” when he got down on one knee. The poor guy puts up with a lot. But when it comes down to it, I’m so happy I have him. And I like to think he is happy he has me too.

We bought a house. So I had to pack up and move. But I didn’t mind that very much. One could say I have a gypsy spirit. I’ve spent the last several years of my life moving a lot. So now change and packing things is just a way of life for me. It’s weird to know that I will probably stay at this house for awhile. We also rescued our newest member of the family. He is an Australian Shepherd/Border Collie mix and his name is Milo. He is full of energy and full of love. His favorite things include laying on the patio, ripping fuzz out of toys, looking at himself in glass, sitting on our laps, and running circles in the yard.

I was prepared to graduate college and enter the transition phase of my life. Where I went through the ups and downs of transitioning from “young adult” to straight up “adult”. But nearly 3 years later, I still feel a little lost. While I am happy with those who surround me, I feel like I’ve just settled into this comfortable lull. There’s a part of me that feels like I’m going through the motions of life without really living. And that I don’t really know who I am yet.

Now, that’s not to say that I’m not happy- because that’s not what it is. I recently bought this wall hanging thing for our house and it says “Find Joy in the Journey”. And that’s what I’m trying to do. Currently, I feel like I have a lot of things to do, but at the same time, nothing at all. So I’ve been working on a list of things that I would like to do or accomplish by the time I’m 25. I don’t really like deadlines, but I figured I needed to set one for myself anyways and just see what happens. The goal is to check some things off the list and do some self care. And maybe find more of myself along the way.

I still plan to use this little corner of the internet. Some for baking and some for life. Because it is called “Frosting and All”. And it’s not always about the frosting. (But who am I kidding, because I made Banana Muffins and Chocolate Crinkle Cookies this weekend..)

Lighting the Fire

I haven’t posted on this blog since November 2012, but I came here often. Sometimes I came here with the intention to write something, but then I never did. Sometimes I came here to see what I had done and relive some of those moments. The thing with baking is it creates memories. The baking experiences that inspired the blog posts all have a memory or a moment attached to them. The last post from November 2012, I can still tell you why I was stressed, I still remember calling my mom when my whipped cream didn’t turn out for the banana cream cupcakes, and I remember the feeling of having to load my batter up in the car to go somewhere else to bake when I could’t get my oven to work.

A lot has changed since the last blog post. I graduated college. I got a job and moved over 4 hours away from home. I met a great guy. He got a new job and moved, so I did too, knowing I was moving farther from home. But my parents ended up moving farther away too. (For the record, I’m 7 hours away from my mom). I’ve been stuck for the first time alone at an airport. I’ve survived a flood. My friends are now spread all over the country. And I bought a car.

Life kept going, and I kept baking. But I stopped documenting and recording what I had done. One of the hardest things I’ve learned with all these transitions in my life is that you can’t forget about yourself. And I did that. Not just with baking, but other things. I often made reference on this blog to swing dancing. I still love dancing but aside from the dancing I do in my living room, I can’t tell you the last time I went out social dancing. With this leap into adulthood, I’m learning to balance. I have to learn how to balance my family, my friends, my job, my guy, and myself. It is still OK for me to do these things I was once so passionate about. Things just started to happen on auto pilot. I let certain parts of my life fall by the wayside. To no one’s fault but my own.

But then, a few months ago, someone asked me what my dream job was. I immediately responded with “owning a bakery”. They asked if I already knew what I wanted to name it. I said that I wasn’t positive but I knew what I wanted the logo to be and the main colors. And she was excited about the logo and overall, she was excited for my dream. I have always had this excitement when thinking about my dreams, but I was letting all that sit inside and I wasn’t doing anything about it. Even though it’s a big dream and maybe a long shot, I should still already be preheating my oven.

Needless to say, I’m back now. I have a brand new piping set. I have a jar full of liners. And I have a 24 cup pan. Not to mention my current house has some of the best prep counter space that I’ve ever experienced (smaller than my dream kitchen space, but definitely workable). I had this realization that I don’t want to look back on these years of my life and disappointed. So I have this new found fire inside. I want this to be the year I get a few bucks for the things I bake…even if it’s just the farmers market. I want this to be the year I have my logo design created…even if it is drawn by my college roommate, who can draw bunnies, therefore she is qualified. I want this to be the year when my pictures start looking a little nicer. I want this to be the year I finally stop saying I’m going to learn my grandma’s apple butter recipe, and I just do it. I want this to be the year when I look back and say “that was the year where I light my fire”.

Did I mention I’m baking this weekend?

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Stress Baking and Sugar– Vanilla Cupcakes

So…I’m a bit of a stress baker. This past week has been a bit overwhelming. And it takes a lot for me to get to the point of overwhelmed. Usually I’m pretty good at handling stress. It’s been little things and it’s been big things all piled up. My emotional breakdown came last night…it was about time though. I had been waiting. :) I’ve got some good advice and have been told numerous times that I need to relax and not think about anything for awhile. But in reality, I don’t really know what it means to relax, but I needed to step back. So I baked. I’m a stress baker. Sue me.

Stress Baking- Vanilla Cupcakes

This is probably going to be written a little bit differently. I made a batch of vanilla cupcakes because I needed a recipe where I had everything at my house already. It also occured to me that I had never made vanilla cupcakes before. I didn’t take pictures the whole time, because it was simple and I wanted to just turn on my music and make some cupcakes.

I apologize that some of this pictures are bad quality. My camera wasn’t having a good day. And I was over it.

So I had a dream earlier this week. I never remember my dreams, but this one I did. In a nutshell, I was on a plane (the only people I remember being there was one of my uncles and one of my cousins, but it was full plane). The pilot came over the loudspeaker and said that he wanted to take a nap and asked who wanted to fly the plane. No one said anything so I said I would. I woke up when I was walking to the front of the plane. Now, I work in the psychology department at school. It just so happened that this is the week one of the professors is doing dream analysis in her class. She told me that my dream tells her 2 things about me. 1) Things keep piling up on my plate. -TRUE- 2) I have a hard time saying no and don’t like to disappoint people. -ALSO TRUE- Weird what dreams can tell you… :)

I decided to get fancy. I needed to pretend I was creative. And start practicing for when I have my own bakery in 20 years and appearance/presentation is important. :D

Well, they were a little dense. That could’ve just been all my pent up anger though. :) But next time I make vanilla cupcakes, I’ll be trying a different recipe.

Classic Vanilla Cupcakes
1/2 cup softened butter
3/4 to 1 cup sugar
2 eggs
2 tsp. vanilla extract
1-1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1/4 tsp. salt
2/3 cup cold milk

Yield: 12 cupcakes.

Preheat oven to 350°F.

Cream butter and sugar. Add eggs 1 at a time, beating after each addition. Stir in vanilla.

In a separate bowl, stir together all dry ingredients. Add to butter mixture; stir in milk.

Bake 18-24 minutes.

Halloween! This is Bria…we’re friends. :)