inside all of us is a wild thing...

oui, oui!

oui, oui! Parisian leaves!

i just shuddered, realizing september is about to pass me by without one new blog post. that, or it was just the fact that somehow, once again, it seems that blacksburg has so graciously skipped right over fall and brought us straight into winter. or so it seems. let's just hope this cold front passes and welcomes us into the season of apple-picking and fall festivals, rainy football victories, bouquets or freshly sharpened pencils, and brown over-the-knee boots.

a friend told me today "fall just makes me feel so collegiate. i don't know. it's exciting." and i agreed, 100%, here in my last fall of being a college student. i'm celebrating with a glass of wine and an exam study guide in front of me... so i will leave only this, for now:

my first full story published in the collegiate times. check it out.

hanover's.

veggie or fruit? i'd argue neither, really. heaven-sent produce needs its own category.

i come from a county that is famous for its tomatoes. some say it's the sand-like quality of the soil. others, the good-hearted farmers who love the relished crops as much as they do their own families. regardless, hanover's (as we like to refer to them) have a long-running streak as being truly the best tomatoes in the world.


if you've ever had one, you won't think it's crazy that we have an annual tomato festival every july, complete with a tomato queen, tomatoes on a stick, and other such non-traditional relics to the juicy, red gods of summer.

the topic of tomatoes came up in a recent lunch conversation. a friend of mine chimed in, "i honestly think there should be a designated holiday for the first tomato sandwich of the summer." we all agreed as she laughed and added, "i have to make 2 at a time... i eat one standing up while i make the other!" my sister admitted, "i average 3 tomatoes a day: one sliced atop my toast in the morning, another for a sandwich at lunch, and one just as a side for my dinner."
yesterday i had to suffer through a 'vine ripened in new jersey" stickered tomato, surrendering to the unyielding reality that my local market in blacksburg doesn't import from my hometown, 3 hours away. as if an answer to my epicurian prayers, a friend brought our house an unexpected surprise delivery at 11pm last night: 5 gallons of fresh-picked hanover's.

sometimes karma works overboard.

seam ripper

you've got the essence, dear.
if i could have a second skin
i'd probably dress up in you.
- belle & sebastian

city of angels.

1053 ft.

mobjack bay.