Almond Milk & My Sunshine Cat.

I got you on a whim because Lauren was overwhelmed after graciously taking in Mama Cat and you and Waffles were the only two left. You were affectionately dubbed "Banana Flavored Curtain" by Paxton and if that name didn't do me in, it was the way you crawled into my arms and nuzzled your head right on my chest. I brought you home and Hailey and I chuckled about the way you purred even when drinking water from the dog bowl. I was smitten, I was unsure, and I was open and curious to what a life with you as part of my family would look like.

In theory, I knew what a life with you would be like. I also knew what it would look like to lose you from watching my mom grieve Penny.  Penny came to my mom right before my grandmother was diagnosed with cancer. She was twenty-one, which is way too young for a girl to lose her mom.  Penny provided the quiet comfort that cats give after long days: unassuming, unashamed, and very much unapologetic about who they are and what they demand. Animals are the careful balance between comfort and humor that somehow always speaks to the hearts of those who love them. Penny lived for twenty-five years with my mom. She saw marriage, the birth of my brother and I, loss, and contentment. Her passing was the first time I watched as my mom cried and grieved and I knew there was nothing of this world that could comfort her or fill that absence.

Right now, your absence is so heavy and fresh that I don't know how to bear the burden of it. Any time I close my eyes I see you and I feel you so strongly that when I open my eyelids, tears are fully streaming down my cheeks. Our time with you was not long enough, but oh, how we made the most of it! I will miss they way you ran down the stairs to greet me every time I came home and your sweet responses when we called your name. Never in my life have I met a cat who grunts when he jumps from one cabinet to the other, but you were so graceful and clumsy all at once that I couldn't help but watch. Your bond with Chief was reminiscent of two rowdy brothers who believed they could take on the world. Now, as I watch Chief looking out the window, I know he misses you and can feel that you are gone. He is the one who found you. I will miss the way you peered over the stove as I recipe tested and meals at our table will never be the same. Margot taught you how to stay on your side as we ate on ours. What a special place that became for us. How will I sit there without you by my side?

I still don't understand why this life is so unfair at times. Why your ever-trusting nature meant that you left us way too soon. I know that I am so sorry for not protecting you better and for being too trusting when this world is so big.  Maybe that is part of why we were so special to one another; we were able to recognize the eternal optimism we both felt for this world. And part of that I learned from you, my Sunshine Cat. I am missing you so much that I can feel it in my stomach, but I am thankful for what that means, for this love I feel for you, it will be what I think of when this world you left me in lets me stop and think of you.

To you, and for you, and with you, my brave kitty. I'll be seeing you.

Almond Milk with Rose & Thyme

• Raw Almonds, 1 cup
• Water, 2 cups + more for soaking
• Honey, agave, or maple
• Rose water, 1 tbl.
• Thyme, 1 tsp.
• A punch of cinnamon
• Vanilla, 1 tsp.

1. First, soak the almonds for 24 to 48 covering them with roughly one inch of water. The longer you soak them, the creamier the milk will be.
2. Drain and rinse the almonds under cold water. They will be plump and squishy.
3. At this point, place almonds and two cups of water in the blender and blend on high for 2 minutes. When this is done you can strain the milk through a cheese cloth and add the rest of the ingredients.

-The left over almond pulp is wonderful to use in smoothies and baked goods as a gluten free flour substitute.

-Fresh almond milk does not last as long so it is best to make this in small batches. You can also experiment with additives and flavors.

another best year // Everything Pasta

25: a year of life well lived and so many things. some good and some a little painful.

"there are years that ask questions and years that answer." - Zora Neale Hurston

25 was the year of sacrifice and triumph; both big and small. of surprise mermaid parties where i wore a beautiful crown and my friends told me all the glory they see in me. of long commutes where i immersed myself in audio books and twilight walks with the dogs. it was the year of the two-story house and having my own bedroom, but still missing late night talks with Gwyn in the bed next to me. of eating an avocado every day and texting Margot most days about that status of our avocados. it was the year of lipstick and cutting my hair off. the year i started running and realized that i loved it. the year of compromising where i need to, but also realizing i love myself so damn much that i can't compromise who i am. the year of risk-taking and baking. of crying over burned cookies and spilled milk. of crying in a bathroom 3 different times over a course of a weekend because i decided to move to tulsa. actually, realizing that my go to is to cry in bathrooms when i feel a little shaken. the year of trying to tell the story of my heart to my parents and learning that uncomfortable is not bad and is the birthplace of all that is good. the year of Nelly and Nikolai and learning so much more about marriage and the sacrifice and commitment it takes. of learning the names of all the dogs that live on 4th between Yale and Harvard. the year of the 7:30PM bed time and the 4AM wake up time. the year of Crested Butte and learning to ski and ringing in the new year with the people i wanted to be with.

it was the year of realizing i don't fear failure like i used to and that my dreams are big beautiful. the year of new friendships, and Cheryl Strayed, and Anne Lamott. the year of letters to treasure with Sara and Kacy. of connection and vulnerability and identity. the year of the start of the 52 meals project with Pauline. the year of Austin, TX and baby Maddox and realizing how much love you can have for baby simply because he belongs to someone you love so deeply. of getting a kitten because it sort of seemed like an okay idea and realizing just how much of a cat person you actually are. the year of big decisions made by your truest friends and saying goodbye to Nelly, Nikolai, Kacy, Anna, Johnna, and Jordan. of deciding to move back to Norman because that is where you are supposed to be and not skipping a beat. the year you felt butterflies again and had a crush again and wanted to kiss someone again. of letting yourself feel that way and not being afraid. of learning to let go when you need to because all you want is for both of you to feel full, alive, and worthy of love. the year of Haka the pirate. the year of so much math homework that it actually made you throw up once. the year of mornings with Margot and afternoons on the porch with Hailey. the year of losing Paul and hating it and learning how to grieve. the year of meeting Jess and feeling the perfect balance of giving and receiving in friendship. the year of Erika and quiet friendships that mean more than you could know. the year of Sam Cooke and Elvis Presley. the year of saying yes and figuring it out afterwards (thanks, Tina Fey), and really learning forgiveness. the year i learned to sit with my discomfort, but that God's love is even taller.

26: i don't know much about you yet, but i do know some. you will be a year of answering. you will be a year of adventures everyday. a year of Chicago, New Orleans, the Appalachian Trail, Connecticut, India, and Thailand. a year of bike rides with Gwyn. a year of learning to stay in the moment so you don't miss your chance. of the second half of the 52 meals project. the year of the eagle. the year of moving to Seattle and saying some hard goodbyes. this will be a year of being afraid, but doing it anyway.

turning 26 was quiet this year with not a lot of fuss. i ate taco bueno with my mom, took some tests, and hugged my friends. it was just right for right now. tonight, we made "everything in our fridge and i accidentally bought a zucchini instead of cucumber pasta" and paired it with coors light since it was a Sunday. this dish is really great for weeknights and doesn't require much fuss. just how i like it.

Everything Pasta

• zucchini, 1 large.
• rigatoni, 1 pound.
• lemon, 1, juiced
• onion, 3, sliced.
• mozzarella, 4 oz.
• garlic, 4 cloves, crushed.
• arugula, handful.
• salt and pepper to taste

1)  First, caramelize the onions and the garlic. I do this in my dutch oven with a little olive oil and butter over        low heat for roughly 40-60 minutes.  You will know when they are just right by the smell. When you              have about 20 minutes left, add any other vegetable you want to use up.

2)  In another pan, cook the pasta al dente reserving 3/4 cup of the pasta water.

3)  When vegetables are done, add reserved pasta water stirring constantly until onion absorb the water.             Towards the end of this process, add cheese and stir until melted.  Add pasta and toss until pasta is               completely coated.

4)  Serve in bowls with a handful of arugula on top and a squeeze of lemon.