Wednesday, September 23, 2015

jars of carrots

This weekend while Evan and I were in Red Lodge, we ate at one of my favorite restaurants, Mas Taco. They give you a tiny slice of pickled carrot with your entree, like a garish I suppose, but I obviously eat it because pickled anything (besides beets and eggs of course) is my love language. And then Evan gave me his because he is kind and I also ate his slice of pickled carrot. And then I had the idea yesterday that I should pickle my own carrots. Because I had a bag of fresh carrots from my parents' garden and what else was I going to do with them? So, I borrowed my mom's canner, looked up a few recipes and got to it. I was intending on making six jars but then let the vinegar brine boil just a little too long and came up about 1/2 a jar short and because I'm not super great at math, decided to not cut down the brine recipe and just forget the last jar. I also shoved half a jalapeno (or some spicier equivalent) in two of the jars but I'll let those marinate for a few weeks before I open them up for a taste test.

Just having the jars on the counter makes me feel like my cute little mama in all her canning glory. Even though I'll never be as good as she is with her muscle memory for everything and her rows of canned everything you could possibly think of (rosemary lemon dilly beans. horseradish dilly beans. cinnamon spiced pears. spicy tomato soup. tomatoes with peppers and onions. raspberry jalapeno jelly. strawberry rhubarb jam. etc. etc. etc.) and her ability to make 30 different things in an entire weekend and fill up the little room in their basement with 500 jars of goodness and then share everything with me who didn't lift even a finger to help.  So. I'm moving in that direction, only much slower. At about the pace of a sloth. With the equivalent napping schedule as that of a sloth. I'll get there some day. Until then. Cheers to my pickled carrot success.

Monday, September 21, 2015

9/12 [round two]

We went to the mountains this weekend because we didn't have a wedding. Today, Monday, when I still have three weddings to edit and another coming up this weekend, I'm like perhaps I should have hunkered down and stared at the computer instead of driving into the mountains where there is no service and I can ignore everything in blissed out ignorance for a few hours and pretend like we really do live in a state with no electricity or telephones or e-mail.

But instead, I took a nap today. I laid down with my sweet curly haired boy and we slept for a few hours and I finished a book and started a new book and wrote a little bit. And I still have three weddings to edit and another coming up this weekend and I'll still have that tomorrow but I'll still be glad I took a weekend and then another day for myself.


I have found the real definition of best friend:

Someone you can live with and not be annoyed by the fact that they leave globs of toothpaste in the sink after brushing their teeth and they bring some kind of stomach virus into the house so that everyone under the roof acquires the virus and their shoes are everywhere except for the closet and when they make the bed, they don't fold the comforter and sheet down in that way that you like but instead tuck everything under the pillows. But they also wake up at your son's first cry and play with him for an hour or three so you can get an hour or three extra minutes of sleep. They also wake up early to surprise you by cleaning and organizing the house that you've neglected because you have three weddings to edit and threw up for two days straight thanks to that pesky virus and you're also having a going away party for one of your girlfriends. They bring you dinner and take you to brunch and arrive with blessed surprise latte's at all hours of the day. You can spend minutes that turn to hours that turn to days on days with them and the annoyances don't add up like little ticks in your mind until you need a free minute or you'll scream.

That's how you know you've found your best friend, your soul mate, your love. So stop looking, be content and take adventures and forget the people who aren't this and never will be.

Friday, September 18, 2015


This one is week and one day from being two-and-a-half and I can't stop staring at these pictures. He's perfect.

Thursday, September 17, 2015

things Maddox says V.2

More, as of late.

"Mom! Go titchen!"-Maddox
"What's in the kitchen?"-me
"Poop in there."-Maddox
"There's poop in the kitchen?"-me
"Yeah, I do."-Maddox
(no worries, friends. no poop in the "titchen.")

"Wash it!"-Maddox
"Don't be bossy!"-me
"Wash it. NOW!!!"-Maddox

"What's your favorite thing in the whole world?"-me
"New diaper."-Maddox

"Too picy me."-Maddox
(translation: too spicy for me.)

"How cute are you?"-Evan
"So toot!"-Maddox

"What do you want to drink?"-me
"Um, beer."-Maddox
(for those of you not a regular in my life, Evan and I tend to cheat and tell Maddox that anything we don't want to share is beer. Apparently we say that more than we think.)

"I want mine aboon."-Maddox
(translation: balloon)

"Damnit, Jay!"-Evan

"That is definitely P.I."-Evan

"Look your hair! Look so pretty!"-Maddox to me (yes, dead.)

"Oh mine dear."-Maddox

"You're going to see grandma."-me
"Bay?"-Maddox (Bay's the dog)
"No, other grandma."-me (we differentiate them by their animals I guess)
"Bonnie. Bonnie. Bonnie. I yuv Bonnie."-Maddox
 (my mom is thrilled that Maddox prefers to call her Bonnie)

"Hi, yittuh birds! Doing up dere?"-Maddox

Thursday, September 3, 2015

Embarrassing Pictures of yours truly

My mom and I went through some super great family photos because Evan and I and some friends were just discussing my childhood and I had a super great childhood complete with 80's and 90's outfits and the messiest hair anyone has ever seen. My mom told me, "I promised myself that I would take photos of you even if you didn't look that great." And then also that I have a large forehead. So, I'm very loved and also real life. Here we go.

Totes appreciate this one of my brother and I, circa 7th-8thish grade. I'm guessing because I started straightening my hair around that time but really sucked at it, as you probably can tell. My mom made me sit in front of her tulip garden every year for my birthday, which is what is happening here. Note my shirt situation in the arms, like armor but cotton. Just really great, all of it.

Ohhhkay, Miss Model, tone it down with the plastic GLUE-ON purple nails and lipstick. WHO THE WHO is letting you wear lipstick at what, 10? I mean, classic Larissa hair: Half up in a GIANT scrunchy with a bajillion flyaways and even more barretts to hold them all back. Note my mom's amazing floral couch that she got rid of and probably would go for gobs of cash today because that's the thing. I begged her for like 14-years of my life to get rid of it and now I kind of want it back.

 My mom told me it was, and I quote, "A chilly summer." I'm unsure as to why that warrants mom jeans (JORTS NO LESS) and a turtle neck on a 8-year-old. Again with the hair. Classic mess.

You're really getting the full treatment here. TWEE-TEE BIRD. Man I loved me some Tweety Bird. I don't even know why I was so obsessed with that stupid yellow bird baby thing but I was. That and Eeyore. I'm so embarrassed because now look at children's clothes in Target and Gap and there is not even a trace of Tweety Bird. Where was my mom during this awful decision making? This picture was taken on a hike (jeans are a good idea in Montana in the summer on a 5-ish mile hike to a lake, yes, good call, 10-year-old, Larissa) and I don't know what I'm carrying or why those sunglasses are a thing but also I remember I used to have an aversion to tennis shoes and here I am, hating my life in the dreaded tennis.

Here I am with my dad in Yellowstone. I'll let you in on some little-know facts about me. Number one: I used to wear my hear in Princess Leia buns on the side of my head and I had these adorably stupid bobby pins with red roses glued to the ends and I would shove them in the buns and I thought I was brilliant and SO, so cute. Number two: That purple sweatshirt definitely has Eeyore on it. Facts not about me: My dad still looks the exact same. Although. I did show this picture to Maddox and he argued with me that that is actually my brother and not my dad.

And finally. My 11th birthday party at a place called "Play Zone," where it was endless tunnels and ball pits full of heroine needles and pee. Just kidding, but probably. I super love my hair, just like I said before: half up in a big-ass scrunchy with 30 or more barretts pinning it back. I mean, you can see two right there, imagine how many are on the other side. I was OBSESSED with barretts and keeping my hair out of my face and showing off my forehead, according to my mom. Wearing another classic Tweety Bird shirt in this picture, HBD to me. I also, ALSO, was madly in love with N SYNC. Like, to the point of probably should have gotten some therapy for the amount that I wanted to marry them. All of them, any of them, just please can I have one. We are all pointing to our favorites in this picture and I am about to throat punch the girl in the headband because she is pointing to my FAVORITE one, Chris Kirkpatric, thank you very much. Don't even test me on my N SYNC knowledge. Evan just last weekend decided my fan girl days have come to an end because he threw out my Disney Channel N SYNC Concert VHS that I recorded from the Disney Channel on the 4th of July that one year they played concerts all day long (best day ever). So. I'm in mourning. Speaking of mourning, check out my brother. Pissed my mom's making him be in the friggin picture, pissed it's only girls, pissed about N SYNC. Hard life, man.

Maddox will never probably have pictures like this. I mean, what could that child possibly do that is awkward? Nothing. I swear. So, we'll just continue to weep at the 90's decisions that my parents made (even though she swears I made them. Lies.) and continue to relive the goodness that was life.