Adams Eco Farm

26/03/2026

🍷 𝗔𝗳𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗮, 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴… 🍖🌿

This one is for tomorrow - quietly marinating now, taking its time.

A little journey - somewhere between 𝗖𝘆𝗽𝗿𝘂𝘀, 𝗗𝗼𝗵𝗮 𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗔𝗱𝗮𝗺𝘀 𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗼𝗶𝗿. Loosely inspired by a dish I once had in 𝗠𝘆𝗸𝗼𝗻𝗼𝘀, 𝗗𝗼𝗵𝗮, on my 40th birthday. It was lamb then - deep, aromatic, unforgettable.

This time, I’m translating that memory into 𝗽𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝘆, using our own Inuwayan Farm Productions 𝗯𝘂𝗴𝗻𝗮𝘆 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗲 and 𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗰𝗼𝗮𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗰𝗿𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗱𝘀 - that warm, citrusy spice that defines Afelia.

It’s not about recreating it exactly.
It’s about 𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 - 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘁 𝗲𝘃𝗼𝗹𝘃𝗲.

Slow braise tomorrow.
Wine, fat, and spice coming together into that familiar glossy sauce.

This isn’t just a dish - it’s a conversation:
✨ Mediterranean roots
✨ Filipino richness
✨ A touch of Adams in every bite

Served simply, the way it should be:
🍞 bread for dipping
🍅 fresh tomatoes for brightness
🌿 and that deep, winey sauce clinging to every piece

Slow food. Honest food.

Serving it to one of our regulars - the kind that fills the table and stays in memory. Where food carries stories, not just flavor.

Sometimes, dishes travel far before they land where they belong. 🍷✨

10/03/2026

𝗔 𝗯𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿’𝘀 𝘀𝗺𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗽𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗰 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆. 😅🥖

Last Saturday, right in the middle of my 𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, we had a 𝟭𝟮-𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝘄𝗻𝗼𝘂𝘁 ⚡. Just like that, my carefully planned baking schedule went completely haywire.

Anyone who bakes bread knows how much timing matters — the quiet hours in the fridge, the slow fermentation that builds flavor and structure. Without electricity, I kept checking the dough, worrying it would overproof, collapse, or simply refuse to cooperate. ⏳🍞

𝗜’𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝗱𝗺𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝘁: 𝗜 𝗮𝗹𝗺𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀. Haaay. 😮‍💨

But instead, I watched the dough closely, adjusted the timing, reshaped where I could, and hoped the bread would still come through.

And it did. ✨

Yesterday (Monday), the loaves were finally delivered. This one is a 𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝘄𝗶𝗿𝗹 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗵 - fragrant with warm spice, deeply golden, with beautiful ribbons of cinnamon running through it. 🤎 It even split a little during the bake, a small reminder of the wild weekend that almost derailed it.

Bread doesn’t always follow our plans. Sometimes the best we can do is 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘆 𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗲𝗻𝘁, 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗰𝘂𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗸𝗲. 🙏🥖

✨ 𝗚𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿: our 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗱𝗿𝗼𝗽 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗻𝘀 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗮𝘆.
Thank you to everyone who waits for these loaves each week. 💛

05/03/2026

𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗸 𝗮𝘀𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗮 𝗹𝗼𝘁. 𝗧𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁, 𝘄𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝘀𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗲. 🍚

Seven hard days.
So tonight: 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗲.

Washed and 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝘇𝗲𝗻 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝟮𝟰 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀 so the grains break and bloom faster - because even resilience sometimes needs a little help to soften.

Simmered in 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗵 with 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗲𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗼𝗻 and 𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿 - deep, savory, gently sweet, with a quiet warmth underneath. The brown rice keeps it earthy, nutty, steady.

Finished the way my Chef loves it:
🍋 a squeeze of 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗶 for brightness,
✨ and a drizzle of 𝘀𝗲𝘀𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗼𝗶𝗹 - just enough to perfume the steam.

There are weeks we cannot fix.
Battles we cannot fight for each other.

But we can 𝘀𝗶𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗿 𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗲.
We can 𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝗴𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗶𝗰.
We can remember what makes the other close his eyes before the first spoonful.

𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲.
𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗺 𝗯𝗼𝘄𝗹 𝗮𝘁 𝗮 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲. 🍲

📌 Note: Farm Life is our little journal of daily life, food, and good vibes on the homestead 🌾🐓🍳
Most of what you see here also has a fancier, guest-worthy restaurant version. Yup - same soul, just plated prettier. 😉

03/03/2026

𝗧𝘄𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘆 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝘂𝘁𝗲𝘀. 𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗜𝘁 𝗧𝗼𝗼𝗸. 🥓

We’re making this for our 𝗵𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗿𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗴𝘂𝗹𝗮𝗿𝘀 - the ones who show up ready, who always ask when the next batch is coming.

They finished the last batch in 𝟮𝟬 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝘂𝘁𝗲𝘀.

No exaggeration.
A full 𝟭-𝗸𝗴 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 - 𝗴𝗼𝗻𝗲. Silence at the table. Just the sound of happy chewing and someone asking, “May extra pa?” 😌

So here we are again.

Two slabs of pork belly, curing slowly - salt working its quiet magic, drawing out moisture, concentrating flavor, teaching patience the way only time can.

𝗛𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗲 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘃𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲.
It’s about 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻.
About knowing where your meat comes from.
About watching the color deepen, feeling the firmness change under your hands - in brine, in stillness, in the cold of the fridge while life continues around it.

In a few days, this will be smoked gently until fragrant, the fat turning silky and the edges blushing bronze. Then sliced - imperfect, thick, honest slices - and crisped in a hot pan. 🔥

𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗳𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁 knowing it began like this.

If you’ve never tried our homemade bacon, consider this your invitation.

𝗕𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗹𝘆.
𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗵𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗿𝘆.
𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀 (but don’t expect leftovers 😉).

Next batch coming soon - and if history repeats itself, it won’t last long.

See you at the table. 🍽️

01/03/2026

𝗟𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝗹𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗸, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗼𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘆.

My husband was weak.
The days dragged heavy, one into the next.
And yet our friend — a regular guest who has become family — asked for something uncomplicated: a tomato dish for bread and pasta. He said he's tired of eating the same food.

Honestly… so was I. 🥱
Exhausted from household work, and quietly relieved I didn’t have to make our usual in-house pomodoro this week.

I turned to one of my simplest comforts:
🍅 Whole tomatoes
🧅 Halved onions
🧈 A generous k**b of butter
🧂 Salt
…and time.

An hour later, the sauce was glossy, rich, and honest.
Bread-ready. Pasta-perfect. Quietly grounding. 🥖🍝

It is a sauce that 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗲𝗿𝘀: the sweetness of slow-simmered tomatoes, the soft, almost caramelised onions, the creamy depth of butter, all balanced with salt. Each bite is savory, comforting, lingering — like a warm hand on a weary shoulder.

I saved some for myself. And for a little while, I forgot my worries.
The world made sense again, just for a moment. 😄
That’s the magic of good, honest food — it doesn’t demand attention, but it asks for presence, and in return, it offers comfort.

If you’ve been craving something simple, comforting, and nourishing, try this tomato sauce for yourself. It’s a reminder that even in weeks that feel heavy, even when life seems fragile, there are small things that can steady us: the rhythm of a simmer, the gloss of butter melting into tomatoes, the quiet satisfaction of bread dipped into sauce.

21/02/2026

1 HOUR LEFT ⌛

POV: Cancel all lakads para manood ng Cooltura.

20/02/2026

𝗝𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗔𝗱𝗮𝗺𝘀 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝘁𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗦𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝗮𝘁 𝟭𝟭 𝗔𝗠.

You know that one friend who never says no to a drink? CUTE!

Perfect. Bring them to Adams.

We’re upgrading the setting —
from plastic chairs and loud speakers to mountain air, waterfalls, and vineyards.

Discover the bold character of 𝗔𝗱𝗮𝗺𝘀 𝗪𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 — local, proud, and beautifully crafted.

And while you’re here,
try our 𝗕𝘂𝗴𝗻𝗮𝘆 𝗦𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘇𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗯𝘀.

Bright. Wild. Unexpected.
A little sweet, a little earthy —
like Adams itself. 🍇🌿

Let’s see if they can handle something a little more… refined. 🍷✨

Consider this your official invitation.



Inuwayan Farm Productions

MAY KAIBIGAN KA BANG PANG-MALAKASAN SA INUMAN?

Coolturistas, i-tag mo na siya at yayain na sa inuman…este, sa paraiso, para tuklasin ang ganda ng tanawin ng Adams, Ilocos Norte.

19/02/2026

𝗬𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗱𝗮𝘆, 𝘄𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝗥𝗜𝗟𝗟𝗢𝗡𝗦.

A rustic French preparation — pork belly slowly rendered in its own fat until tender within, golden at the edges, deeply savory and honest.

It’s not fried.
It’s not braised.
It’s confit in its own richness.

No rushing.
Just time, salt, garlic, and patience.

Traditionally finished with wine vinegar —
but in our kitchen, we reached for 𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗰 𝗰𝗼𝗰𝗼 𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗲𝗴𝗮𝗿 instead. Softer. Rounder. Carrying that quiet tropical acidity that loves pork.

Whole garlic cloves melted gently into the fat.

And on the side, 𝗜𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗼𝘀 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘁𝘀, thinly sliced and pickled — sharp, fragrant, bright enough to cut through the richness. Suddenly, a dish rooted in rural France felt perfectly at home in Adams.

A French countryside technique,
meeting Ilocos soil.

This was served to one of our regulars — someone who gives us something rare: complete trust.
The kind of trust where you sit at the table not knowing what will arrive… and allow us the freedom to cook what we feel that day.

No menu.
No expectations.
Just, “Cook what you feel.”

That kind of freedom is a gift to any kitchen.
And we don’t take it lightly.

Thank you, Andie and family,
for always stepping into the unknown with us.

We cook better because of that trust.

14/02/2026

𝗩𝗮𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗲’𝘀 𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗸𝘀 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗱𝗶𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗸𝗶𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿.
The chef is off duty.

It’s not a pink-balloons kind of day.
It’s the real one —
the quiet vow,
the kitchen light left on. ✨

This season of our marriage feels like a renewal of promises.
Less about fancy plates,
more about making sure he rests.
More about little things set carefully aside for healing.

And honestly?
I’ve never felt the vows more deeply.

The “in sickness” part we once said so easily —
and now get to live.

No grand gestures.
Just steady love.
Still choosing you.
Especially on the quiet days.

This Valentine’s, I’m not just celebrating romance.
I’m living it. ❤️

And I hope today, in whatever form it comes,
you find a love that is steady and rooted —
the kind that stays,
the kind that chooses,
the kind that quietly endures.

Happy Valentine’s Day. 💛

09/02/2026

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗥𝗢𝗗𝗢 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗪𝗔𝗦𝗡’𝗧 𝗦𝗨𝗣𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗘𝗗 𝗧𝗢 𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗔𝗟 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗪 🥣🤍
You know… this beef brodo started with 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆.
It was meant to stay 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗻, 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝗲𝘁, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹-𝗯𝗲𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗱 — just so it wouldn’t clash with the other dishes.

Simple. Neutral. 𝗦𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗲.

For those asking — brodo is an 𝗜𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗶𝗮𝗻-𝘀𝘁𝘆𝗹𝗲 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗵, slowly simmered from beef, bones, and vegetables until it’s light in appearance but 𝗱𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝗶𝗻 𝗳𝗹𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿.

But our version takes 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲.
𝗦𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝘀𝗶𝗺𝗺𝗲𝗿. 𝗡𝗼 𝗿𝘂𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗡𝗼 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗰𝘂𝘁𝘀.
There are times we almost don’t do it — 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘄𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘄𝗮𝘆.

And somehow…
𝗶𝘁 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘄𝗮𝘆.
𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝗱𝘀.
𝗘𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆. 𝗦𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗲. 𝗧𝗶𝗺𝗲.

The dish that 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝘁𝗿𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀 is now the one 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗸𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁.
The 𝗽𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗲𝗺𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁.
The “can I have more?” soup.

𝗖𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿. 𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴. 𝗗𝗲𝗲𝗽𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝗹𝗮𝘃𝗼𝗿𝗳𝘂𝗹.
Proof that sometimes 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗳𝘁𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗵𝗲𝘀 𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘂𝗱𝗲𝘀𝘁.

Come try it for yourself.
We’ll let the brodo do the convincing. 😋

We’ll pretend it’s still the supporting dish. 😉🍲

04/02/2026

Not laing.
𝗦𝗶𝗴𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗹𝘆𝗮𝘀. 🌿

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗮𝗴𝘂𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴, 𝗕𝗶𝗰𝗼𝗹 𝘀𝘁𝘆𝗹𝗲.
Finely chopped, slowly rolled around the pan until every bit is coated in rich 𝗰𝗼𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗸.
With 𝗽𝗼𝗿𝗸 for depth, and 𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗮𝗯𝗮 just sitting on top… quietly threatening 🌶️😅

It’s not pretty.
It’s not trying to be.
But it absolutely destroys rice 🍚🍚🍚

This is the kind of dish that: – stays humble
– hits deep
– and tastes even better the next day 👋

Old-school.
Old techniques.
Provincial.
Comfort food shaped by repetition, not recipes. ❤️

If this is your kind of food, 𝗺𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗿𝘆 — come taste a Bicol dish that knows exactly where it comes from. ❤️

📌 𝗡𝗼𝘁𝗲: Farm Life is our little journal of daily life, food, and good vibes on the homestead 🌾🐓🍳
Most of what you see here also has a fancier, guest-worthy restaurant version. Yup — same soul, just plated prettier. 😉

30/01/2026

✨ 𝗧𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝘃𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗹 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗵…
Because let’s be honest, not everything ends up where you first imagine it.

🙈 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝗳𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻: I bought this for an unspeakable vice 🚬
No judgment please, we all have our moments 😂

Then my daughter stepped in.
My daughter — with 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗯𝗶𝗴 𝗼𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 — took one look and said absolutely not.
𝗙𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗱 happened.

🌭🍟 𝗜𝘁’𝘀 𝗮 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗯𝗼𝘄𝗹 𝗻𝗼𝘄.
𝗖𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗱.

😭✨ Honestly though, my daughter completely saved this object’s reputation.
🍟😂 Thank you, child, for steering me toward better life choices (and snacks).