longroadtonowhere:

Gimme all da fats. Bacon, 3 eggs, giant avacado, and if course butter coffee. Big ole pre boulder comp breakfast. #paleo

longroadtonowhere:

Gimme all da fats. Bacon, 3 eggs, giant avacado, and if course butter coffee. Big ole pre boulder comp breakfast. #paleo

(via melavond)

"Maybe happiness is this: not feeling like you should be elsewhere, doing something else, being someone else."

Isaac Asimov  (via omgskr)

(Source: wordsthat-speak, via omgskr)

(via Stylesheet » Blog Archive » Backstage Beauty)

(via Stylesheet » Blog Archive » Backstage Beauty)

Bob Dylan – Man Gave Names to All the Animals (540 plays)

(Source: lazenby)

"[after a half-hearted suicide attempt at age 13]

When Daddy comes in, he carries you to bed. Is there anything you feel like you could eat, Pokey? Anything at all?

All you can imagine putting in your mouth is a cold plum, one with really tight skin on the outside but gum-shocking sweetness inside. And he and your mother discuss where he might find some this late in the season. Mother says hell I don’t know. Further north, I’d guess.

The next morning, you wake up in your bed and sit up. Mother says, Pete, I think she’s up. He hollers in, You ready for breakfast, Pokey. Then he comes in grinning, still in his work clothes from the night before. He’s holding a farm bushel. The plums he empties onto the bed river toward you through folds in the quilt. If you stacked them up, they’d fill the deepest bin at the Piggly Wiggly.

Damned if I didn’t get the urge to drive to Arkansas last night, he says.

Your mother stands behind him saying he’s pure USDA crazy.

Fort Smith, Arkansas. Found a roadside stand out there with a feller selling plums. And I says, Buddy, I got a little girl sick back in Texas. She’s got a hanker for plums and ain’t nothing else gonna do.

It’s when you sink your teeth into the plum that you make a promise. The skin is still warm from riding in the sun in Daddy’s truck, and the nectar runs down your chin.

And you snap out of it. Or are snapped out of it. Never again will you lay a hand against yourself, not so long as there are plums to eat and somebody-anybody-who gives enough of a damn to haul them to you. So long as you bear the least nibblet of love for any other creature in this dark world, though in love portions are never stingy. There are no smidgens or pinches, only rolling abundance. That’s how you acquire the resolution for survival that the coming years are about to demand. You don’t earn it. It’s given."

Mary Karr, “Cherry” (via lifeinpoetry)

(via caragh)

vneckandacardigan:

A most excellent homemade brunch of sweet potato and kale hash, topped with eggs and avocado.

vneckandacardigan:

A most excellent homemade brunch of sweet potato and kale hash, topped with eggs and avocado.

patriciahandschiegel:

image

brunch at the house today. herbs de provence omelet with sauteed proscuitto and shallots, topped with fresh mushrooms and champagne cheddar cheese. side of black lentils with fresh garlic and sea salt, fresh steamed asparagus and fresh sliced fuji apple. it was yummy

cameronchristopher:

Dat dapple tho.

cameronchristopher:

Dat dapple tho.

(Source: oldchum)

(Source: newyorker.com, via omgskr)

faganchelsea:

*sweats profusely*

faganchelsea:

*sweats profusely*

(Source: the-suit-man)