Sherrie, my neighbor, called me this morning to see if I could watch Scott for her while she played tennis. He is such a delight to have come over. It was still kind of early for me, so I thought I could sort of halfway sleep on my bed while he watched some kids' programs on PBS, some dragon show, and some other new shows that weren't around when mine were little. He was hanging out in my room at the end of my bed, then saw the stash of pillows on the ground and went over to plop on top of them.
I looked at him and told him how cute he looked and said to stay there, while I go downstairs to get my camera. He did just that. But when I came up with my camera, he had this silly face to show me. You can tell he has older siblings!
I considered myself to be a decent cook and baker. However, candy making had been unchartered territory until I recently cracked the code of a favorite—chewy Texas Pecan Pralines. This culinary epiphany came only days before I left my home sweet home in Austin, Texas, to return to CU Boulder after an epic hiatus to wrap up my bachelor’s degree in journalism. When I was a little girl, I remember tasting heavenly, creamy homemade pralines, bursting with pecans, handcrafted with love by my mom. She only whipped them up a few times, but I just couldn’t get the memory of those buttery, sugary treats out of my head. They were that good. I asked her if she still had the recipe, but I knew it would be hopeless since my mom wasn’t one for keeping track of her down-home style cooking. I married my college sweetheart, a guy with the same first name as me, and began teaching myself to cook. Becoming “Kelly Times Two” was amazing, and I had ...
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