remodelling jackets

I got this jacket from Hot Topic in 2010, and discovered that it was a weird shade of gray that went with one thing: denim. Didn't even go with black. (Don't ask me how that's possible.) Now it's a nice, amiable shade of blue. I love how the stitching stayed light.

Meanwhile, I put new buttons on my green American Eagle jacket.

"going home"

Last week, my roommate sold me her guitar. I tied on the strap with a big pink bow, the ribbon from the flowers my parents gave me when I graduated earlier this month, and I named her Vivian. We're still getting to know each other.

Five years ago, this was the song that a dear friend and I wanted to sing together and never did. The friend is long gone, but I still have the music I wrote out for us, and the words are still beautiful. It's time to sing it again.

We'll know what we've lost and all that we've won when this road finally takes me home.

mexican mocha cookies

I have this wonderful friend who is heading back to Boise for the summer tomorrow. She's my Mexican-mocha-drinking buddy.

The base for this recipe was the "chocolate drop" cookie from Company's Coming: Cookies (which is a fabulous book); I spiced it up for my church's Ascension Day potluck.


Cream together: 1/2 cup softened butter, 1 cup granulated sugar.
Mix in 1 egg, 1/2 cup milk, 1/2 cup cocoa powder, and 1 tsp vanilla.

Combine and add: 1 3/4 cup flour, 1/4 tsp salt, 1/4 tsp nutmeg, 1/4 tsp cloves, 1/2 tsp cinnamon, and 1 tsp baking powder.

Last of all, mix in (at this point your triceps will be getting no uncertain workout) 1 cup chocolate chips (Hershey's special dark, need I say more?).


These work pretty much no matter what size you make them, but the baking time will vary: ~12 minutes at 375 degrees. When they're done, they're soft, but not gooey.

"Insomnia" (villanelle)

(with loud echoes of Robert Frost's "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" and "Acquainted With the Night," and a dash of Shakespeare)

Awake, awake, without a single light,
The woods are where I walk when I can't sleep.
I'm far too well acquainted with the night.

No reason's good enough for us to fight.
I miss you. But we both know words are cheap.
Awake, awake, without a single light.

The darkness is a blanket, wrapping tight.
What dreams may come, when dreams in darkness creep?
I'm far too well acquainted with the night.

Another poem almost described it right:
The woods are dreadful, silent, dark, and deep.
Awake, awake, without a single light.

We're far too far apart; it isn't right.
I count the days without you like they're sheep.
I'm far too well acquainted with the night.

I've many miles to go, but not tonight,
And I have many promises to keep.
Awake, awake, without a single light;
I'm far too well acquainted with the night.