There is magic in baking. I take a group of very different and strange ingredients, and the final result are something that looks nothing like the original ingredients.
I think that is the operative word–respect. People seem to have lost respect lately.
We connected, not as buddies from high school, but as adults who have lived life.
I know how hard it was for me to lose a sister in her 60’s. I cannot fathom the loss of a child.
What would your homes tell if the walls could talk? What are the memories made in your homes?
Why do we fear decision-making when making no decision can make life harder?