Thank you...

My Sweet Husband,

I went to the store to find you a card this morning. I spent an hour reading and re-reading every anniversary card available. And you know what? They sucked. None of them came even the slightest bit close to expressing how truly and deeply I love you. Not a single one could properly convey just how much being your wife means to me. No card could really say how thrilling, comforting, and awe-inspiring the past three years have been.

Letter to a Stranger

Dear Old Man,

You've come into the bakery almost every morning since I started. I hear it's been years. You order a cup of coffee and you sit. For hours.

And you're dying.

Every morning, I see less life in you than the morning before. When I first served you, you were able to mutter shakily, "Small coffee." Now, you can only shake. Luckily, I know.

Livin' the Dream

You guys. Seriously.

It's happened.

About a year and a half ago, I came home from work exhausted, weary, and on the verge of a complete meltdown. Every. Night. I told The Hubs, "All I want to do is frost cupcakes and write."

I wanted a life in which I made people, and myself, happy. I wanted something pure, something nourishing, something sweet, something filled with love. I wanted to actually have the time to do the things I loved. I wanted to love what I do. I wanted people to feel loved by what I do. I wanted to feed people. And write about it. Operation Frost Cupcakes became the dream.

Over time Operation Frost Cupcakes became our code for, "When Andrea finally gets to work in a bakery, write, move to a kick-ass part of town, and completely love her life." The Hubs and I talked about it all the time. I dreamed about it constantly. I told anyone that would listen that someday, someday. I put it out into the universe. It got me through the days. I wanted that new adventure so bad I could taste it.

It's been a tough journey. Really tough. Twists and turns and doubts and so many unexpected curve-balls made me come thisclose to giving up the dream. Almost daily I seriously questioned just what the hell I thought I was doing. Each hurdle made the dream seem further and further away.

But then it started getting closer. The Hubs, my friends, my family, YOU held my hand, dragged me kicking and screaming, and cheered so damn loud as the finish line got closer and closer. I wanted to give up. You all wouldn't let me. So I ran faster, dreamed bigger.

And then it happened. I crossed the finish line.

I'm here. Living the dream.

Working in a bakery. Freelance writing. Loving my new town. Drafting a book. Blogging. Laughing. Dreaming. Loving.

Living.

I love you. Thank you.