Time moves differently in the summer. I swear this to be true. It was one of the crueler jokes bestowed upon me when I began teaching: you put all of your energy and every dream of a chunk of freedom into this magical thing, summer vacation, and it'd be over before you could blink. I'm feeling a little of that as I sit here now with just a few days of July left, writing to you on a foggy Friday afternoon with a messy kitchen, a broken washing machine, and an empty refrigerator. Don't get me wrong: it's been a good day. We shared a messy biscuit sandwich for lunch from a new spot downtown and lingered over coffee longer than usual before starting the work day. A good week, really. But time has been moving quickly and I'm sure you notice that, too.

Much like friends, types of Sunday mornings, or books -- there are many different kinds of desserts. Sometimes you may be in the mood for a light French cake piled high with summer fruit. Other days, a thick slice of fragrant pound cake will do. And then there are those days when you crave a rich chocolate mousse that you share after a night of good conversation and a little too much wine. But let's be honest. When it comes right down to it, the most basic and unassuming dessert of all is sometimes the only one that will do. A good and simple affair. Vanilla ice cream. So I want to talk about that today--about a dessert that withstands the test of time, that will always be there for you. A dessert that is far from trendy, that doesn't play favorites or  trick you into thinking it's something that it's not. It's a good foundation. A solid beginning.

A lot has happened since I last posted. I vowed not to tell you much of it though. Not because it's top secret or because I'm keeping it from my mom and dad who occasionally tune in to the blog. No, because there's nothing I hate more than listening to friends constantly whine. And you know what? If I told you what's been really going on here lately, it would just come out like a big fat whine. No one wants that. Let me just sum it up for you. I had a conversation with a potential landlord today who assured me that what I'd heard about the building wasn't true. Crazy landlord: "They're just making it all up and spreading lies over the internet. Lies." Me: "Oh, o.k., I actually hadn't heard anything. What kind of things are on the internet?" Crazy landlord: "Oh you know, all that shit about how it's the home for wayward women. Don't worry. It's not. Perfectly safe. I'd bet my own daughter's life on it...if I had one {super creepy chuckle ensues}" Huh. So let's suffice it to say that the apartment search isn't going well. The job search is at a dead stand-still, and I'm trying to etch out a little time to locate a smidge of Christmas spirit. I've been finding that time in the early mornings before my mom's up bustling around with her morning TV and dog updates, and before Linnea's skipped off to work. So before I talk much about these lovely, simple scones, I will tell you that we won't chat about all the things I don't have any longer (jobs, apartment, sanity, motivation to change out of my yoga pants in the morning) because there's so much I do have, and I'm working my tusch off to remember that. I can't wait for the day when I can show you a picture of our new front door and mailbox. I have a feeling it'll be soon! Onward...