Hello, my lovelies.
It’s again terribly sad here, as we mourn with the rest of the music world the joyful, infectious, tortured genius that was Taylor Hawkins. We have been Foo Fighters fans since “This Is A Call” leaked early on WHFS back in ‘95, and Dave Grohl fans for longer than that. So, falling in love with Taylor was a natural progression, and watching the two of them play like puppies on stage for twenty-five years was a damn privilege.
This is from the last show they did together, six days before Hawkins’ death. (Pretty raw language, so proceed with caution if a whole bunch of rockstars dropping f-bombs ain’t your thing).
I haven’t read Grohl’s book yet—still trying to make time for the Audiobook, which I bought weeks ago—but this is what he said about his pal—
On the positive side, when we are sad, we bake and I have discovered maybe the best cookie recipe of all time…and then I made it better.
These cookies, man…they are divine.
They are full of cranberries, with enough white chocolate to cut the tartness of the all that fresh fruit, and the slight bitterness of the orange zest. There is a bunch of oatmeal, for chewiness, but enough butter that the edges crisp nicely. They really are cookie perfection.
Full disclosure that the original recipe had fresh cranberries and RAISINS, but a) we are a raisin-free household cause I have a Golden Retriever and b) even if we weren’t, raisins seemed like a discordant note in a beautiful symphony of a recipe. So dried cranberries were subbed, and cookie harmony was achieved.
Finally, this happened. This is my 10-year-old, Jake, who was my late husband’s dog, but has been all mine for almost eight years now. He was looking a little scruffy, so the lovely roomie took him to the Salon, where he received the full treatment.
I read five books this week, bringing me to 56/175, 16 books ahead on my Goodreads goal.
French Braid from the incomparable Anne Tyler was an ARC that I reviewed last week. Not the kind of book I read anymore—I’m all about plot-heavy action or steam-heavy romance these days—but it was a beautiful throwback to the kinds of books I read in my twenties.
For the rest of the week, I buried myself in the Lucy Score Blue Moon series, which was a tiny disappointment. I still love Lucy to death, but these books were lighter on conflict than I like. In the fifth book, for example, the main characters fell in love almost immediately, robbing us of any “will they ever figure this out” tension. They were well-written, just not really my cup of tea…and the best books were the first three. After that, they started to feel a little like a chore. I doubt that I will read the last two.
OK, that’s all from the back porch, where we await spring with anticipation and dread. Allergies are a beast here in the DMV.
Till next week, stay safe, make a new recipe and tell someone important that you love them. We are all on borrowed time here on the rock so let’s be good to one another, eh?
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