what will you be?

This past weekend Mark and I went to a halloween party. I was dressed as a TWITCH (trendy witch) and Mark a box of Wheaties.

We so totally go together, huh?

Hey, can you see my little bear cub in the back of this pic? He's a Power Ranger!

And here's my lady bug!

Now, I know our costumes are so totally inspiring, but I'm just wondering, what are you going to be?

french onion soup.

My favorite. I love, drool over, crave and must have this soup at least once during the fall and once in the winter. It's an annual tradition for my family once the weather turns cold. If you live in Utah, you know it was beastly cold yesterday, so of course I made FRENCH ONION SOUP!

I'll tell you now, this recipe is unlike any you'll ever have. My mom snagged the recipe off a burly pup owner in England years ago. FYI, did you know I was actually born there? I know, the accent gives it away.

Anyhow, it's delish. I hope you enjoy.

1. Cut the onions. And bawl like a friggin' baby. Holy cow, I had mascara streaking down my face like I was next in line to star in a KISS show.

2. Then make the onion goodness:

French Onion Soup



3-4 lbs of sweet onions, sliced thin

1/2 cup butter

4-5 Tbl. flour

6 cups chicken broth

4-5 Tbl. rice vinegar or mild vinegar 

1 loaf of sour dough bread, chopped into bite size pieces

1 pound of Swiss cheese

1. Saute onions in butter until tender, not brown.

2. Stir in flour until the aroma smells divine! (Your mixture will look light brown.)

3. Whisk in chicken broth, and then add vinegar to taste.

4. Scoop soup mixture into oven safe bowls.

5. Top with handfuls of bread cubes, and Swiss cheese.

6. Cook at 500 degrees until cheese is melted and lightly browned.

Then eat and enjoy, and think of me!

a product I cannot live without...

Tune in later to this very blog for a recipe made with PBF!

Sigh.

If I could do it all over again, I'd do it just like this...

Style. Sophistication. Simplicity.

Isn't she stunning?

What would you change about your wedding day?

another story in which I make an excellent candidate for mother of the year.

Remember the time I totally got my days confused and sort of, kind of, well almost, in all honesty I basically forgot my son's birthday? You can check out that story here. Awesome, right?

It would seem, based on the events in the last week, that I have a talent for the aforementioned birthday forgetting.

Case in Point: Teddy the Bear's birthday.

Week in Review:

Monday: Edited Photos
Tuesday: Edited Photos

*son of a...
Late Tuesday night I had the singular thought, Something's going on tomorrow that I've forgotton about. What could that be? Well, duh. Teddy's birthday. As in, the celebratory day in which I apparently forgot to buy a cake mix, candles, balloons, and presents. Pretty much, I had a whole lot of nothing planned.
At ten in the evening I made a few phone calls and begged my sweet good neighbors with young kids to bring their kiddos to my house the next day for a FABULOUS party (one of which I had not planned).

Wednesday: Rush to Target. Buy everything that resembles Halloween party supplies. Rush home. Clean house. Make cupcakes. Con good friend into helping me make salsa. Turn all photography business over to Intern. Cross fingers that kids show up.

And did they? Thank the Good Lord, YES!

So last minute, I threw the best 4-year-old Halloween party that a slack-A Mom could pull together in less than a day. We decorated pumpkins and played freeze dance to Michael Jackson's THRILLER.
All in all, it was a perfect party. And now my little guy is four. It's hard to believe how fast he's growing up. Here's a shot I made the kids take just hours before the party.

name dropping and clothes busting.

Where the devil have you been? Oh, wait a sec. Yeah, I mean where the heck have I been?

URWA

Say what? You don't know that that means. It stands for Utah Romance Writers of America. And last week I was the 'esteemed' photographer of honor. (Alright, so maybe I wasn't the esteemed guest...whatev! But I was the photographer.)
Authors, agents, editors and publishers came to the conference. I shot all day long, and learned a thing or two about writing. Mostly it was awesome. Especially when I got to see the amazing Karen Hoover, and Candace Salima, and Laurie Mclean, and Amy Moore-Benson, and Victoria Dahl, and Bree Despain, and Jessica Day George (who, I personally believe, should just go by JDG. It sounds supa' cool).

Whoa, breathe. That was one heck of a name drop. Am I cooler now? Am I? (Fingers crossed you'll say yes, but if you say no that's ok too because the rest of this post is for you... I am SO. NOT. COOL! Read on, and you'll see why.)

THE MOMENT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR:

Remember a paragraph and a half back when I said "mostly" awesome? Here's the small, miniscule, nothing to worry about part of the conference that was definitely NOT awesome. At. All.

While shooting headshots of all the amazing conference attendees, I met an older gentleman who was sporting quite the manly goatee. I asked him what he wrote. (That's what non-published-aspiring-writers mostly talk about) The goatee-wearing man said, "I write erotica."

My jaw dropped to the floor. "Um, yes, well. That's nice, and lovely. And I'm sure it's very interesting." And then I put the camera in front of my face and started shooting. There was nothing coherent left to say.

That evening, at the conference dinner I wore the new blouse I purchased earlier in the day at JCREW. (So maybe I wasn't shooting the entire time of the conference.) While I was looking for my seat, the goatee-gentleman waved me over. When I reached where he was sitting, I placed my hand on his table and leaned over to talk to him.

SNAP is what I should've heard. But I didn't. Those top three devil buttons on my blouse came undone on their own without so much of a warning noise. In front of Erotica-writing goatee-gentleman, my top three buttons popped open to expose my hot pink brazier. (The white one was dirty.)

He looked at me, then looked at, um...you know. And he said, "Looks like you're coming undone."

In that moment, I wanted to DIE.

Did I? Of course not. That's why I'm writing this extremely long post on why I am so, so, so not cool. I'm just a person who as of late is not published and happens to expose fluorescent undergarments at Erotica-writing, goatee-sporting gentleman.

Intern: total sicko

Intern called texted in that she was sick today. And you know what that made me think of? These darn kids and all their texting.

Back in my day, which might I add wasn't too long ago, kids didn't text. Heck, most kids didn't even have a cell phone. That could be because they were the size of a brick and weighed close to the same, but whatev. In fact, since I started working with youngun's like Intern, my texting has increased. I used to have the 200 text plan, and now I'm going to have to bump it.

This is a grief I'd planned on laying on Intern. Now that she's not here, I have no one to complain to. My home is too quiet. And my hair is too thin. Where is Intern with her thick, lucious locks?

Not here, that's where.

Get better soon Intern, lest I spend all my money on hair extensions so I have something to brush out and take pictures of.

rain and kissing.

The thunder boomed so loudly in the sky that it shook my entire house, and my tv screen flashed on and off. Creepy! And wee bit romantic. I do love me a good thunder storm, and thanks to the Good Lord, this summer has been full of them.

On days like this, I drawn into making autumn inspired food...even if it is just a spice cake mix, an egg and a can of pumpkin, and a mass load of chocolate chips. (Seriously though, try it. Cook these pumpkin cookies at 375 for 15 min.)

But there was no cooking today because I had a lot of editing to do. I know, what's new, right? Blah, blah, blah. I'm sure by now you want to gouge your eyes out when I talk about photography. I hope to end all that soon. See, one day I plan to never take another picture again, and spend my time as a pop-culture information specialist employing my days in front of the television as way of research.

However, until then...

Photography it is. Here's a rain shot that makes up for the no cooking day. I love kissing in the rain. Even when I'm not the one doing it. Sigh.