I have a July birthday, which I loved and hated when I was a little kid. It was great because parties could be outside and include ice cream cake, but I could never celebrate by bringing cupcakes to school to share with my classmates. For years, I requested a Baskin Robbins ice cream cake with mint chocolate chip ice cream. Then, we moved to a new area and didn't have a ready source of ice cream cakes. At that point my most-requested birthday dessert became my mom's Boston cream pie. This misnomer of a dessert is actually a cake, stacked with vanilla custard between two layers of cake, topped with a chocolate glaze. My mom's particular version used hot milk sponge cakes, homemade vanilla custard, and melted chocolate chips that solidified into a solid cap of brittle semisweet chocolate on top. There was always a little custard left over from making the cake that my dad and I would share. It was his favorite cake, too. Even now, my birthday still makes me think of Boston cream pie, hot summer days, and the wild orange daylillies that seemed to magically open right on my special day. 

I'm supposed to be taking it easy at this point. I am nine months pregnant and taking a little break from farmers' markets now, but I still can't stay out of the kitchen! Part of the reason is that I've had chocolate granola on my mind for the last three months. 

Sometimes people ask how I get ideas to make new things, and this is how: I get obsessed with an idea until I make it. And the idea is usually quite specific—I imagine chocolate granola, but not just normal granola with chunks of chocolate in it. I know that I want it to have a depth of chocolate flavor without being too sweet for breakfast. I know I want it to include cocoa nibs. And it needs to be crisp with some sort of nut.....almonds? sunflower seeds? I draft a version of the recipe to start. I try to make a relatively small amount in case it's a total disaster. As I'm putting it together, I make careful revisions to the recipe in a notebook. Then it bakes and cools, and I taste it. I form my own opinion, and then have my husband taste it without telling him what I thought about it. We compare notes, I make notes, and then it's ready for round 2 of testing. Usually, there's some lag time before I make it again so I can decide if my initial impression was right. 

In this case, my chocolate granola was nearly right on. I would change a couple of things when I make it again, but I'm thinking it will join the ranks of my maple and olive oil granola when I'm back at the market. Keep an eye out for it!

I feel so lucky to be starting my fourth season at the Walloomsac Farmers' Market this year. It honestly makes me so happy to get up at the crack of dawn on a Saturday morning (really!), start up the oven, and bake tray after tray of scones, sugar buns, galettes, and whatever's on the menu for the week for my customers. I love catching up on the week's news with the other vendors, and seeing my customers (many of whom feel more like friends) and getting feedback on last week's treats. The market is such a wonderful community of people, and I'm so grateful to be a part of it. I'll miss everyone while I'm taking a little break....but don't worry, I'll be back before long!

Spring always brings to mind change more than any other season. Its arrival is dramatic in New England; snow melts and gives way to countless colors of brown and mud, which eventually gives way to piercing emerald greens and bright blossoms. It seems to take forever, but then one day when you wake up, it feels like the green came in just overnight. Every year, I wonder if it's possible that the hills were this brilliant last year.

In farmers' market news, the outdoor season starts up in two weeks, on May 4th! Farmers have already been bringing spinach, Swiss chard, and arugula to the markets in past weeks. Potted basil from Wildstone Farm showed up last week, as did candy-colored French radishes from Mighty Food Farm. I love to see more and more variety appearing every week. 

And in more personal news, my expanding belly will soon bring about a sizeable transition to my home and business. We are working hard to cull our own belongings as new things arrive every day for the little one. It's an exciting time for sure, but slightly anxiety-ridden to imagine what life will look like from the other side. But that's the nature of change—you never know exactly what will happen until it does.

I was watching a reality show about the Amish the other night, mainly because Saturday night television leaves much to be desired. But something about this particular show was incredibly riveting. The episode followed a man who had left the Amish community and had unresolved issues resulting from that separation. He had experienced abuse growing up, and in the Amish way, he had never discussed it with anyone before. He was aware that these secrets were affecting his current relationships with his own kids and wife, and he was also concerned that there were many young people in his own community who had left the Amish community and were in similar situations. So, he set out to explore methods of healing through faith and counseling. It struck me how beautiful this humble man was, looking to be a better father, husband, and member of his community. He had to overcome great hurt, and he had great difficulty in revealing the emotional life that he had been forced to lock up for so many years. It reminded me of the great power that we all possess to be the people we want to be. The mind is powerful, and the will to overcome is unrelenting.

Reminiscent of turning lemons into lemonade....

Lately, I've been asking myself why we get so emotionally connected to objects. I need to make a little more space in our house, and it hasn't been easy. I had somehow convinced myself that it was mostly my husband's collections in the studio/spare room that we're trying to clean out, so I had been waiting for him to get started. The other day, I took a closer look. When I scanned the room, from the bookshelf to the two desks, my heart sunk a bit because I realized it was all my stuff. It was a collage of my many hobbies over the years. It was a sobering thought that I was going to have to filter through years of creating and collecting—and that a good amount of it needed to go completely.

I decided that for this process to work, I would take one look at an item, and then close my eyes and throw it away unless it was something that is useful to me right now. In this way, stacks and stacks of old magazines, paper, and collections of things like Altoids tins have made their way to the trash. And it feels liberating. I still have a ways to go, but I am prepared to face this new challenge with vigor and optimism.

I'm the type of person who likes to start a New Year with resolutions. These thoughtful musings have contained echoes of the same basic elements over the past decade. Most, if not all, of these new beginnings have included wanting to find my ultimate career or job. This year is different for me in several respects. First of all, we were just back in the US on New Year's Day from Scotland and England, and my brain was still absorbing the trip. I've been jet lagged and scattered since and not in the best state of mind to be resolute about much of anything.

The second and more important difference is that I'm coming into 2013 with a real career plan. When I officially started my business in April of last year, I felt good. And I've continued to feel better and better about the choices I've made this year. Me and Paper Cake Scissors are ready to embrace another busy and profitable year. Instead of having to reinvent what I'm doing this year, I can fine-tune: make goals, look at financials, and brainstorm new ideas that I want to incorporate. This is such a relief after circling around and around the career question for too many years. And as a result, I feel ready to look outside of myself. I can stop being selfishly engulfed in the What am I doing with my life? question. I can move on.

I'm especially happy to have this clarity now, because I know that 2013 will be one of the most challenging, satisfying, and rewarding years yet for me, my business, and my family. Happy New Year.

After a whirlwind month, full of truffles and sweets (thanks to you!), I'm taking a much-needed break to spend time with family. This space will stay quiet for a little while.

Thanks for your support and friendship through the year, and please have a happy, healthy, holiday season. See you in 2013!

An update—Use coupon code CYBER12 to get 10% off in my etsy shop until tomorrow at 10 pm! http://www.etsy.com/shop/PaperCakeScissors

After procrastinating for an embarrassing number of years, I finally have an etsy shop up and running! There is a small selection of items available now, and I will be adding on in the coming weeks. Please take a look and spread the news to your friends and family! Follow me on facebook (Paper Cake Scissors) or twitter (@Emilypapercake) to get the latest on a Cyber Monday coupon code that I'll be revealing soon.

If you're in the southern VT/northern Berkshires/eastern NY area, you can find me at two more holiday markets. They're at the First Baptist Church in Bennington, VT on December 1st and 15th from 10am to 2pm.

Thanks, and Happy Thanksgiving!

Some people are naturals when it comes to relaxing. Some can find a quiet moment, pick up a book, and get lost in it for an afternoon. Others require a few days and maybe a beach to get in the proper zone. Usually, I'm not in either of these camps. Relaxing for me can take days away from my house and even then it's not a sure thing. So, when I recently relinquished a couple of my volunteer duties, I was surprised at how quickly I felt the stress peeling off of my shoulders. And it was noticeable—two friends remarked on separate occasions how relaxed I looked. Generally, I am all in favor of helping out when things are tough. But this shouldn't happen at the expense of caring for yourself.

I know this may seem like a harsh and confusing message when so many in NY and NJ still need help after the hurricane. But there has to be a point in life when you put your needs first. While I still have miles to go in my lessons of relaxation, I feel like I might be getting just a little bit closer.