I leave for San Diego in twelve hours. Have I even started to pack yet? Not a chance. I can only hope that the contents of my petite suitcase (which is supposed to somehow allow me seven days of outfits) come together as quickly and lovely as the soup I'm hastily devouring by the spoonful. Butternut squash, with my own additions of Trader Joe's roasted peppers and onions, wilted spinach, white kidney beans, two egg whites, and heaps of cumin and black pepper. My soul is getting some much needed post-finals lovin' as I sit next to the space heater and watch the amusing antics of Kathleen Kelley and Joe Fox.
You know what else has warmed my soul this evening? Joy. No, no, not the kind you feel, but Joy, Joy the Baker! What a treat that woman is. You read her writing and wonder, Can someone really be this sassy in real life? The answer: you betcha. Elisa and I happened to be the first to arrive at her book signing and got to meet Joy before everyone else. She even got a high-five out of the deal! Another bonus: Joy loved our shoes (her podcast parter was secretly sneaking photos of them, making me feel super special that someone so adored was adoring us!). What a fun experience to meet the woman I wake up and read every morning, musing over the latest in creativity to be extracted from her oven.
Perhaps I'll whip something up tonight, as I always seem to do my best baking at odd hours. I mean, I can always catch up on sleep in the airport or something, right?
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