... because I'm betting by the time this holiday is over, I will have lost them on account of all the sweets I've consumed.
This past weekend, Jack, Amelia, and I attended a holiday cookie exchange, so I just whipped up these pretty little macarons to take with us.
Only kidding. :o) The beautiful little things are the handiwork of THE Rebecca Masson of Houston's Fluff Bake Bar.
The pinky red ones are peppermint, and I cannot remember what the white ones are. But they are even better than they look, if you can believe that. Can you see the sparkles on the peppermint ones? The white ones look just like great big pearls. They are incredible!
Mike met Rebecca at an event recently, and he brought me home a box of those macarons, fluffernutters, and these ...
Once again, I forget what he called these, but they are chocolate with some salty pretzels (I think??) mixed in. They are shockingly smooth in texture and , unfortunately for my waste line, irresistable. In fact, we had already both been into this bag before I bowed it back up to take a picture of it. I'm fairly certain there are only two left ... and that is strictly due to will power.
If you live in or near Houston, I would highly recommend these as stocking stuffers. Or party favors. Or whatever else you can think of. I fully guarantee you will not be disappointed!
As for the cookie exchange, I took Neiman Marcus bars or, as they are known around here, Texas gold bars. I think I like the latter name better. Whatever they are called, they are easy as brownies to throw together. I got this recipe from Kiki, and it has never, ever failed me. Or her. And it won't fail you either.
They are made with two cups of pecans and a box of butter pecan cake mix. (And two sticks of butter, a box of powdered sugar, and cream cheese ...)
I did make sure to leave all of them at the party. However, I came home with plenty more sugar.
There's a little sneak peak of my pink kitchen. ;o) I have white twinkly lights on the backs of the counters, and it feels so festive. Everytime I walk in it, I feel like I'm in Nigella's kitchen.
It just makes me want to spend all my time in the kitchen.
But I won't blame it all on the white twinklies. My pink oven is a little bit to blame.
That is what I have said to Mike all along. Poor man. There is no doubt the thought probably crossed his mind to just steal away in the night and leave me in good ol' Georgia. But, thankfully, if that thought did cross his mind, he didn't pay it any attention.
Because he delivered me and Jack and Amelia in Texas.
To be more specific ... Dallas.
It had been our plan for months to settle in a small town outside of Austin, but at the 11th hour (literally), our stars realigned and led the way to Dallas. At the risk of sounding premature, I must declare that I am falling in love with this city! I keep fighting the urge to pinch myself. Because, just in case this is all a happy dream, I sure don't want to wake up from it. We were blessed to have found a little house in one of the old neighborhoods right in town. It is the best of both worlds. I have everything that downtown Dallas has to offer, but I feel like we are living on a quiet, little street in some quiet, little town.
Our neighborhood has turned out to be nothing but wonderful. On the day we moved in, I met more neighbors than I have ever known in all my life. Everybody came over with offerings of help, advice, cookies, dinner, and wine. According to the life-long Dallasites I have met, that is very typical of this area.
Packing up our Georgia home was surprisingly easy. I only cried at the very end when all of the rooms were emptied, and I was doing the last (of at least 5) final walk-throughs.
Just before we rode away, I drug Mike up into the attic to help me write each of our initials on a rafter. I, of course, chose an inconspicuous spot on a rafter way in the back ... but a place that would eventually be seen. Seen, Lord willing, by someone who loves that house as much as we did.
As for our new little abode, I am finding it suits us very well. The first time I saw it in person was just before the moving trucks arrived. I was happy to see I had inherited twelve rosebushes and the most gigantic rosemary plant I have ever seen. The roses are scraggly as all get out, but by nature I am attracted to diamonds in the rough, and I wouldn't have been near as happy about those roses had they been perfectly manicured.
Like the outside, the inside of the house has proven to hold other little pieces of charm...
I also happened to inherit a pink kitchen. Yes, pink. Mamie pink. A 1950s Mamie pink kitchen, y'all. And well, it just deserves a post all it's own.
As for Jack and Amelia, they have handled the move without any hiccups. They have big neighborhood full of sidewalks, a backyard with a great climbing tree, and they are sharing a room with twin beds. And they are as happy as clams in butter. As a mother, I don't guess there is anything I need beyond that.