Ever since I knew that we were moving, I have had a hard time buying things. I hate bringing something into the house, knowing it is just one more thing that we're going to pack up and cart over to the new house. Meals have been interesting the last few weeks. I woke up this morning with an inexplicable urge to make a meatloaf. Meatloaf is awesome because it uses up several things taking up space in my cupboards and I wouldn't have to buy ingredients. I gave Claire some carrot sticks to play with in her highchair, while I mixed up the 'loaf. One of my skills in life is making a darn fine meatloaf. No matter what I put in it, it always tastes exactly like my mom's recipe, which tastes like her mother's recipe, which tastes exactly like deliciousness. I'll probably never sit Claire down and teach her to make the meatloaf, but she'd know how to anyway. Good meatloaf is in our DNA, like our chins and an inability to rent good movies. Today would have been my grandmother's 83rd birthday and half way through the 'loaf I started feeling nostalgic for grandma. I looked at Claire, completely entertained by 2 baby carrots and realized that when my mom is gone, and when I'm gone, the girl will still be here with pieces of us. It made me smile. I was going to include a photo of the 'loaf, but honestly, it only tastes good. The stuff looks pretty nasty.
I will submit for your viewing pleasure, homemade truffles that were Nate's Valentine's gift. I hope you have someone special to squeeze tight this Valentine's Day. Someone that makes you want to make them homemade truffles because you know that their favorite treats are the ones that come from your kitchen.