condition/hazard: hot sand.
I married a baker. I woke up, Marlowe asked for a book, we saw a cinnamon bun, I say “I bet daddy wants a cinnamon bun”, he asks “do you? I’ll go make some” next thing we know, hot cinnamon buns are coming out of the oven. Not so bad babe, not so bad.
we’ve got a jesus christ lizard living in our yard. coolest, greenest guy ever.
finding we both each keep adding meaningful little things to our shelves.
my shining child at golden hour.
dainty shoe souvenirs from mexico.
someone left a floured bread proofing basket by the door. someone else found it. I caught that second someone else dipping and licking flour of their finger tips. caught white handed.
my two most favorite half humans.
she picked out this outfit. it’s perfect. cheezin’
tunic dress c/o emerald august
(receive 20% off orders using discount code: OHDEARDREA)
reaching in pockets and finding (now dried) little flower gifts from the (usually) sweetest two year old.
we couldn’t be happier together these days.
(I look very pregnant, I’m not at all. thank you high-waisted shorts, flowy tops, and awful posture for making this awkward illusion possible).