Like Mother, Like Daughter

The older I get, the more I realize that I really am turning into my mother.  But, the older I get... the more I'm okay with it.  And I found a Mother's Day card that put it perfectly. { Mom, if you're reading, here's what's called a spoiler alert.  Skip the rest of this paragraph, okay? }  The card says, "thanks for teaching me to love what you love." Amen and Amen.

She loves cooking, and I love cooking.  She loves cookbooks; I love cookbooks.  Why?  Well, I grew up surrounded by these:

{ Hello, complete collection of Southern Living Annual Recipes! }

And then there's these:

{ The inside of the cabinet is full, too.  And so's the wall unit in the living room. }

If you come to our house, you'll see cookbooks all over the place.  The wall unit is stuffed full, they're stacked on top of the fridge, they're on the coffee table... and here's the kicker.  Look closely at the picture above.  See that blue folder sticking out there at the bottom left? Well, check out our pantry.

{ Look, Ash... Garlic Gold! }

See it?  Hiding there beside the crushed tomatoes?  I recently realized that somehow, subconsciously, I, too, have chosen a blue folder to collect miscellaneous recipes and such.  Must be in my genes.

Also, apparently, is the overuse of the comma. : )