Easy sweet potato, spinach, & bacon hash

Happy (almost) Memorial Day weekend, y’all! I’m traveling to Wilmington, NC this weekend to celebrate one of my best friends’ weddings (and reunite with all my college friends) and I. Am. So. Pumped. Nothing like a four-day weekend at the beach with your best friends + wedding festivities.

Anyway, I thought a long weekend would be a great time to share this yummy brunch recipe that I made recently. If you’ve got big Memorial Day plans like me with no time to cook, then just put this one on the back burner (#punintended) and try it later. Seriously. If you’ve ever made the mistake of thinking that sweet potatoes are just a fall and winter food, then let me prove you wrong.

sweet potatospinach & baconhash

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On celebrating change

[Author’s note: I know that this is the second sentimental post that I’ve written in a row, and I promise that I am not a giant sap ALL of the time, but this time of year and personal life events have me feeling all the feels. Please bear with me.]


May is a month of change.

There’s a change in weather: from warm breezes hinting at the possibilities of summer to the thick, suffocating blanket of heat that begs you to find the nearest body of water and jump in immediately. There’s a shift in schedules and tempo, as the regular hum of the school year dissolves into hectic family road trips and lazy, unscheduled hours—the beautiful chaos of summer. (Even those who aren’t closely tied to a school schedule can feel it. The calendar may say it doesn’t technically start until June, but we all know summer begins in May.)

And then? There’s graduations. Weddings. Retirements. Birthdays. (I can’t be the only one who has about 10 close friends and family members with May birthdays.)

Under normal circumstances, May is a crazy, bittersweet month full of changes.

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Dear Mom: I see you.

A few months ago, I was visiting family in Florida when my uncle dug up an old home video: Christmas 1989. I was just barely a year old, my sister was four, and my parents were hosting about 15 people at our house for the holidays. Chaotic, to say the least.

We all watched the video together and laughed ourselves to tears at all the tiny things that would be so utterly boring to anyone outside the family—the way my cousin (now a very grown-up and successful adult) kept mugging for the camera and pulling goofy faces. The ridiculous high-waisted, tribal-printed pants that my aunt received as a gift. The hairstyles.

But mostly, I was watching my mom.

Continue reading “Dear Mom: I see you.”