overheard by the kids

As they were enjoying the baby pool on our deck.

"Ugh...those pools are awful. They are such a waste of water..."

pagans. killjoys. hippies. neighbors. people i'm called to love.

a friend's review of Granny Donuts

Lee left this comment this morning. (I'm linking you to his profile, since he writes on a few blogs.) He totally cracks me up. And he knows a good fritter when he tastes one.

So, now you don't have to just take my word on it...

"I patronized Granny Donuts this morning. When I walked in, I was greeted with a hearty "Good morning!" The guy behind the counter then asked, "Are you usually in this early?"

Wow! I thought. Does he read my blogs? Is he on Facebook? How does he know who I am? Then, of course, it dawned on me that I must remind him of someone else. "This is my first time here," I replied. (I almost blurted out, "Jenna sent me!" but I'm not a name-dropper, so I refrained.) "I was just on my way to work and thought I'd stop by."

A quizzical look crossed his face. He smirked and pointed to the "22 continuous years" sign on the wall. I chuckled nervously, and he reassured me, saying, "That's OK."

I ordered an apple fritter and a cup of coffee. The downside is that the coffee isn't anything to write home about. It certainly wasn't the worst -- I mean, it wasn't church potluck bad, just not great.

The fritter, on the other hand, was probably the best I've ever tasted. Crispy and sweet on the outside, soft and rich on the inside. Just the way apple fritters are supposed to be.

So, in summation, I give Granny Donuts two sticky thumbs up. Sure, the coffee isn't the best, but it isn't bad with a sweet lump of fried dough.

If, however, you insist on complementing your doughnuts with really good coffee, I'd suggest swinging by the Starbucks drive-through at the corner of Robert and Thompson, about a half-block north. But I refuse to be held responsible for what happens if you walk in with that Starbucks cup."

the pursuit of doughnuts

It was one of my first questions to my realtor: "Where can you find the best doughnuts in town?" I've been asking around for three years. We left The Donut Palace in St. Louis, MO with the confidence that amazing "Mom and Pop" doughnut places are everywhere, especially in a big city! But, no. After a few years, I asked Molly who gave me the sad news that she had already been on this quest and that "you can't find a decent donut in the Twin Cities".

The seemingly futile search came to an unexpected and delightful end a few weeks ago, when the boys and I stumbled upon Granny Donuts in West Saint Paul. (yes, Granny, as in not possessive). Once we walked in, we knew it was the place. Bear claws, Bowties, Bavarian Cremes, Raised, Cake, Apple Fritters and more beckoned us with their sugary deep-fried promises of earthly satisfaction. (And, yes, I shared this good news with Molly already!)

So, if you find yourself in the Twin Cities and hankering for doughnuts, get your bad self to Granny.

nothing says "i love you" like a meatloaf. no, really.

After the sprain, I know some of my out-of-town friends felt badly they couldn't do anything to help. But may your hearts be warmed by the fact that not only did Molly and Abraham hook me up with this fine personalized meatloaf (really, you two should publish this recipe and challenge any non-meatloaf eaters to try it!!! it was delish!). Josh and Sara brought a pan of their fabulous mostacolli and bread. And Marty did indeed have our friend, Tiffany, deliver a full-to-the-brim bag of Trader Joe's goodies. I might be forgetting some other kindness that came my way, but the point is that I was taken care of. God is good.

(Now, I hope this is the last time I mention the ankle, because even though I'm not trying to, I feel like I'm milking it somehow!!)

oh. side note/question: Is it a St. Louis thing to pronounce mostacolli something like musk-uh-cho-ly??? I'm trying to figure out if I have a legitimate roots to my mispronunciation.