We’ve been living in St Louis for 30 days now, and I thought I should give you an update.

We really like it here.  Like, REALLY. Even though I’ve called an electrician 3 times, a locksmith once, and I feel like I’m constantly reliving an episode of This Old House, I love it.

I went to the grocery store the other day and was completely overwhelmed at the selection of food.  I live down the street from a fabulous ethnic food market that sells all my favorite colors of lentils and multiple brands of pomegranate molasses.  I don’t know how I functioned in Kansas for 18 months without the variety.  Oh, the big city.  How I love you.

First things first, we bought my freaking dream house.  It’s a 1920s brick house complete with the little octagon tiles in the bathroom.  You know the ones.  Hello, swoon.  It has original stained glass windows in a few places, and I can’t get enough of it.  The large dining room reminds me that people did other things for entertainment before the invention of television.  We are maintaining a television-free household at the moment, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say how much I missed watching Property Brothers.

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^A small peek at one end of the kitchen. I love it, but part of me wants to gut it and make everything bright white. Hate me?^

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^I can’t stop decorating with animal print. Send help. My husband is horrified of my taste.^

The weirdest and most wonderful thing is:  we became friends with the people we bought the house from.  It’s not often that you can become friends after a situation that involves haggling over price, but man, I love those people.  How lucky are we?  One of our first weekends here, they showed us their favorite antique shops in the city.  If Brian and I don’t get lost in a conversation talking about all the things we could do with this house daily, it’s rare.  We are simultaneously smitten and giddy.

That said:  I’m not the best person to tackle DIY projects with.  We successfully converted an original gas lamp post to an electric version in the front yard, but not without a small fireball, a puff of smoke, and a flipped breaker.  Hey, it’s a part of the learning process.  And just as we were about to pat ourselves on the back for the do-it-yourself job, all the money we saved was spent on an after-hours locksmith call.  Antique door handles lock behind you, note to self.

All in all, we’re settled.  And I’m happy.  Well, kinda.  You see, I kinda-sorta actually really quit my job in the corporate world.  And I’m about 109% sure I’m never going back.  What am I doing with my time?  (besides lengthy conversations with an electrician).  I’m a private chef now.  Oh, and I also teach cooking classes and dessert parties.  It’s fun.  It’s scary, too, don’t get me wrong.  And just when I’m about to have a break down and search for jobs, I book a client.  Life is crazy like that:  Do what you freaking love and can’t stop thinking about, and the universe puts its arm around you and says ‘we’re doing this.  For real now.  And knock it off with the guilt.’

 

Did you come here for cookies?  You shall be rewarded:

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Find the recipe for these strawberry shortcake cookies that I often eat for breakfast over on Food Fanatic:  Strawberry Shortcake Cookies recipe.

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