So there went August. As fleeting as a summer romance. And not nearly as steamy. The weather was downright cool, in fact. We even lit a couple of fires! There was little time in the hammock, I'm afraid. No dangling of toes in pools. Can you see the fine lines my hair shirt made in the soft white flesh of my back? Ah, well. Perhaps next year I will live the summer of my dreams. This year, I was writing a book proposal. Dredging up my magnum opus and setting it down on paper. It felt plenty good to sift through all the photographs and recipes and musings and memories I have compiled over the years of this blog. To sample the fruits of my labor until the sticky juices of creativity ran down my chin. Thank you for being my sounding board, my inspiration, my partners in time. I am so excited for this book. Now, to find a publisher.

August was not without its moments, many of them enjoyed in the company of good friends. I cooked up a storm and can't wait to share some of my successes with you. (I also puttered in the garden quite a bit, and some recipes emerged from there that are being featured on Gardenista every Friday, so please stop by for a visit.) What I'd really love is to hear about your summer, to be regaled with tales from the shore, or wherever you were at liberty. I could use a little vicarious vacation. In the meantime, let me tell tempt you with tamales...
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