First I loved her for her cinnamon rolls.
My editor brought in a pan of cinnamon rolls to our desk meeting last week, and I was not extremely excited...they're one of those foods I always eat because they smell so good but I always regret it halfway through, you know? Because they act like they're breakfast but really they're dessert, so you feel gross for eating them before anything else that day. It's just one of those lessons I have to repeatedly learn because the smell of cinnamon rolls pushes that knowledge out of my mind.
So I ate one. And I LOVED it. There wasn't even a hint of regret during the whole thing. I finished it, too. So naturally I had to ask my editor for the recipe for the miracle rolls, and she told me she got it from
The Pioneer Woman. She told me she was obsessed with everything about this woman and that I would be, too, if I wasn't careful. She was right.
This woman has single-handedly convinced me that I want to live on a ranch someday. She's a city girl that fell in love with a cowboy, and now shares her story through hilarious-ness and recipes and photography and storytelling...and I love her. After I told my editor that her obsession was totally contagious, she said I wouldn't truly understand The Pioneer Woman's greatness until I read
the story of how she met her husband. She also told me not to start reading it unless I was prepared to not do anything else until it was finished.
And that is my plan for this wonderfully sunny Sunday.