This is a blog about me. I’m a writer and editor, a fabulous baker, decent vegan cook, loving mother and wife, and a servant of my Creator in the best way I know how. There are truly hundreds or thousands of topics I could write about. But the one topic no one else in the world can write about except for me is me.

Here you won’t find hot deals, the latest news, scoops on the  celebrity of the day, technology updates, recipes, or instructions for how to change your garbage disposal. As a matter of fact, you probably won’t even find this blog. It’s simply by me, for me. Thanks for accidentally stopping by, thanks for quickly leaving, and thanks for understanding that’s it’s all about me. This blog will offer nothing for you.

A word about my name, to myself, of course. For over three decades, I thought my name had the most beautiful and significant meaning – Princess Bird. Throughout my typically turbulent teenaged years I spent many an evening wishing I could fly. I’d view the all the pettiness and the complicated people from above, where nothing mattered except soaring gracefully through tree tops. Some nights the dream came true, and I literally dreamed I was flying.

Several years ago my husband and I got to talking about names. Turns out my second name doesn’t mean bird – it means fig. Talk about falling from grace. What kind of free ride do you get in life from having a name that means princess fig?

About a year ago a new neighbor moved into the house across the street from us. Beautiful young couple, sweet, friendly, with an adorable toddler. And a huge, organic fig tree in their new backyard.

The first time this neighbor brought me a sample of their incredible figs, I had to tell her about my name. My fate was sealed. I was dubbed Princess Fig, and the name stuck like goat cheese to a fig jam tart.

But that’s another story.

So now I tell myself that sure, a bird is graceful, beautiful, and sings like a – bird. But a fig has taste. And an organic fig has no pesticides. And when you eat a fresh, organic fig straight off your neighbor’s tree – don’t wash it, that’s a surefire mood killer – you feel like you’re experiencing one of the earth’s greatest hidden treasures.

I’m over the bird royalty thing.