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fist pump tuesday

January 4, 2011

Here’s what’s making me pump my fist this week!

1. Snooooooow! — Unusually enough, the Mitten (i.e. Michigan) was pretty light on snowfall throughout December. However, the last few days have been full of flakes and it’s so beautiful it makes my heart hurt. Granted, I won’t be feeling this poetic about it in a month, but for now, the snow is falling outside like a postcard, I’m warm inside and all is well.

2. Vanilla Bean Pound Cake! — Last night, I got the unshakable urge to bake a vanilla bean cake. I decided to try this recipe from King Arthur, using some of my precious vanilla bean paste that my sister gave me for Christmas. One whiff of that stuff and I was floating. The cake turned out delicious, though it stuck and overflowed a bit. Mental note: bigger pan, more cooking spray. I drizzled some extra salted caramel sauce I had leftover from these and mamma mia — a vanilla cake of my dreams.


3. Authoress Inspiration! — I came across these on Beth’s blog and I was OBSESSED off the bat. They’re a beautiful cross between artistic and classic, with just a touch of quirk. I wish I had the money for them but for now, I will just have to pine. It’s appropriate, though — wasn’t pining what many of these ladies wrote about anyway?

In this new year, what is the inspiration behind YOUR fist pumps?

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2 Comments leave one →
  1. January 4, 2011 10:09 pm

    I LOVE those prints! Especially the one from Mansfield Park. Oh, how the movie adaptation makes me swoon!

  2. January 5, 2011 5:57 pm

    Hey! Thanks for the fist pump and the link!

    Loved your most recent post on loving without liking and Aslan and grappling with unfulfilled dreams and disbelief. Thanks for sharing your struggle.

    I had a bout with disbelief and an identity-shaking rejection around nine months ago, and long story short, it’s worked out for the best (I ended up with a bun of a different variety in the oven, so to speak)… but even if it hadn’t worked out so providentially and as hard as it was to say it at the time, God is God, and I am not… as Job might say. And as you know, even in my anger and despair, there’s some measure of eternal comfort and security in that.

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