The dough was #complex. Let rise. Rest. Let rise. Rest. Add lots of butter. Fold. Roll out. Fold. Roll out. Fold. Roll out. Fold. Roll out. Cut. Bake. It was a laborious process for a simple look. Yet, that first crunch set against a Parisian sky on a balcony could fulfill a life in seconds. #vss365

Just as the acorn knows nothing of the #oak s in the forest until it becomes one, our childhood experiences create the rules that our adulthood lives by. #vss365

Mother Nature’s #collar,
Starched and perfect,
Could be seen from
Her bedroom window
Below a Rocky Mountain sky.
#vss365

He was what she called “prison slick”. Hyper-aware, untrusting, seeking hidden angles at all times and food-focused. When he taught her how to make a jail burrito, he emphasized that it must #congeal to define its form. “Cheese sticks are essential,” he informed her. “They MacGyver it.” #vss365

Winter was her favorite season since learning how to make several soups after leaving her hometown. Every vegetable was hand-chopped. The broths were home-made. The meats bought from local farmers. The #lace of snow that settled on the windows was her favorite tablecloth. Home in a spoon. #vss365

This place is nice, I think I’ll stay..

She knew the #slithy strings were trouble, unworthy, unacceptable. Despite years of carefully removing them, it wasn’t until she saw a wild monkey removing them from its banana that her gut instinct was validated. She learned to trust herself that day. #vss365

The #solitude of skiing overtook her. It was a one-man sport but the opponent: Mother Nature. Forcing snow to comply with your legs. Shaking hands with gravity as firmly as a Private gripped a General. The hills didn’t sing like they do in Spring. They whistled a catcall only she could hear. #vss365