You know how every time the calendar flips to a new page, there’s always a chipper collective “I can’t believe it’s [month, season, or year] already!”
I can. January was 6,000 days long this year.
Polar vortexes, minor sorrows from the minors, an ill child every so often, returning to routines without holidays to anticipate. You know, the grind.
But not all bad things.
We went to a water park resort for a week, which I’ll post about here soon. I made some peanut butter cookies that I can only describe as “disappointing,” which was pretty flipping weird. I mean, they’re peanut butter cookies.
Even a nice dip into a ganache spa didn’t elevate them much. (Didn’t keep us from eating all of them in 24 hours, either.)
Oh, wait, not all bad things.
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