Here I am at the precipice of a new venture that I'm both excited and anxious to charge towards. I'm not terribly sure who my "intended audience" is at this point, though I'm fairly certain that even if I did know who that was, this blog's followers would still inevitably be comprised of a mix of friends / family / acquaintances / etc. (or at least I hope it would). This blog is my opportunity to encourage myself to write daily, to archive (with memories and photographs) the delicacies my husband leads me to believe I make, to try more new things that may possibly be of interest to friends (old and new) and to pay more attention to the little things around me and how they shape me: personally, spiritually, emotionally and so on. This world is huge; it moves so quickly and (seemingly) so detached that I'm promising myself to stop and smell the roses - and peonies - and hydrangea, even in the dead of winter.
A couple of notes: I don't speak a lick of French. As a matter of fact, I used to speak Spanish. After traveling to Paris for my honeymoon, I've found myself craving many things "French" - including the language. Thankfully my husband took a few years of it in school and indulges me when I ask him to pronounce words neither of us knows. I've also never taken a formal cooking class so my techniques are very much "home-grown" and still developing. The same goes for my photography. Finally, I plan on Ferris Bueller-ing my way through this blog: if I take myself too seriously, I'll never get out alive.
For your viewing pleasure, Cafe Groenhout - where the magic (and the mess) happens: