Happy National S’mores Day

Hey There Sweets,

So I learned from Lauren Conrad‘s twitter feed that today is National S’mores Day. Who knew? In honor of the day I’m going to share my three most memorable s’mores moments.

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1. I was twelve and three days into a spring break camping trip with the parentals. The glory of catching my first catfish was fading fast and being the cool kid that I was, I didn’t have a cell phone yet. Needless to say the boredom was creeping in like your mother in your bedroom when you bring a boy home for the first time. Completely unwanted, but expected. As the sun nestled itself against the Blue Ridge blanket of mountains, the girl in the next cabin came over and invited me to join her family for s’mores. Her name was Anna and we became quick friends. On the sixth day of our camping trip I woke up to a sticky note on our door with Anna’s address. I had my first pen pal.

2. Another camping trip, another spring break. I was eighteen and in love. I’d helped him pitch the tent, and watched him up blow up an air mattress. If he’d proposed right then, stooped with the air pump between his knees, his biceps flexing on the down counts, I would’ve said yes. We took a break to cool down in the lake, our skin smelling like off brand bug repellent, sweat and musky lake water. When we made fire, we high-fived before he scooped me up into one of those hugs where they lift you off the ground and you feel like you belong in an american eagle ad. Probably extremely resemblent of the first time man-made fire, I’m willing to bet. I ate the marshmallows faster than he could roast them, but when we finally did make a few good s’mores, we wondered why in the world people make these in the woods. It’s messy as hell, just like love I suppose.

3. It was my second semester of college. Flanked by my two best friends, I knelt in soot at the opening of an outdoor fireplace on campus. We’d bought fire wood at the Kroger up the road, but hadn’t splurgged for the easy start kind that’s marinated in whatever to make it faster to get the fire up and going. Big mistake. Despite my experience starting a fire with the boy, I didn’t know a damn thing. Neither did my two best girls, obviously. It took us forty-five minutes and an entire roll of paper towels (I’d seen my dad use them when grilling) to finally get a flame worthy enough of roasting a couple marshmallows. We let out a few celebratory howls, licked the inevitable mess off our fingers and cheersed to our womanhood. Stuffing the little chocolatey sandwiches into our mouthes we discussed how we could make it in the wilderness… with a candle-lighter and a few dozen paper towels… It was a bonding moment for sure.

One last thing, a little tip if you will: Next time you make s’mores, try a few with Reeses instead of chocolate bars, so freaking delicious, you can thank Anna for that one.

xoxo,
-E

I’ll Be Honest

Hello there,

Here’s a confession:

Sometimes I think I would trade having children
for having an amazing in home library,
perfectly organized craft room,
and an office with a view.
Then I remember I don’t have to choose.
Thank goodness.

xoxo,
-E

Hunks to Husbands

Hello Ladies and Gents,

I’m about to get a little Carrie B. on you guys. Nah, this isn’t the New York Star, but it’ll do. It’ll do pig. Sorry, couldn’t resist that. 8x10 Library Love -Original Fine Art Photography-Unique Anniversary or Valentine's Gift, Neutral, Book Lover, Vintage Style, Polaroid

I was chatting with my girl today, if we were in Sex and the City the musical, she’d be the Samantha I suppose. Anyways, so we were discussing labels and my reluctance to label this summer thing anything more than a summer thing when we discovered an issue we both had somehow acquired. Somewhere, after accepting our high school diploma and out growing our high school relationships we gained this realization that in college the next guy that makes it to the second date might end up being our husband someday. How scary is that? Sure, the odds are against us.  Of course we aren’t imagining every guy that walks by in miniature form on the top of a cake. Thank goodness marriage isn’t either of our life goals, but damn shit’s getting real! Excuse my French.

My Sam’s 20th birthday is a pinky-toe away. While we’re celebrating making it through our teens without any major mishaps, permanent dates on the other hand, as excited as we are to find them, are pretty damn scary. Have any of you come to this realization? Are you in the same boat as us? I’d love to know if this is a whoa, we’re growing up thing, or a weird, you guys are over-reacting! don’t have a midlife crisis in your twenties thought shared among friends?

Leave it below.

xoxo,
-E