One year, eight months, 16 days
I've been a widow now for one year, eight months, and sixteen days. Twenty months and two weeks, if you call it by the way...
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I have a few vegan friends and as such am always happy to see things I think they might like… like these Hazelnut Vegan Bites.
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These science fiction cakes slay me! Want, want, WANT!
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Ah, shiny! Steampunk Stormtrooper!
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Vintage Sambo’s Restaurant Photos. I have fond remembrances of eating at some as a child; I loved the place-mats with the story of the tiger running so fast it turned into butter – the whole politically incorrect-ness of the story went right over my head. I just liked the pancakes, and hoped the butter I got really was made out of tigers.
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Regretsy Math (warning: do not eat or drink while reading this)
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Oh, mashups, I love you so – Alien vs. Pooh. Go. read. NOW.
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Crazy House may indeed be crazy, but I still want to live there.
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I remember Sambo’s and the tiger butter too! I used to love that book, Little Black Sambo. I never realized it was racist either. Oh to be that innocent again.