Hella Born and raised in the complete wrong state (California) I grew up out of place. Here I was; Wranglers, boots and all – living in the “Wine Country” of northern California. After a long drawn out discussion with my horse, Jack, I decided to ditch the preppy neighborhood and apply for college in Montana. After an acceptance letter, I put two very small cardboard boxes of my life belongs in my truck, loaded up my noble stead, and I was on the long 1200 mile journey to the 5th drunkest city in the United States, not to mention my soon-to-be-home – Bozeman, MT.
What’s a Jack?Mr. Jack Riley Hammond is my immaculate horse who just happens to test my cupcake creations. After my parents gave up on me actutally living a girls persona, they traded in my
cute pink dresses and pigtals for a pair of my first cowboy boots and an un-trained-beatened-aggressive quarter horse. Sounds smart right?
….I kind of made it out to seem like my horse is the devil. But that’s not entirely true. Somehow within the midst of growing together as horse and rider we have managed to become quite feared barrel racing Duo. That un-trained- passive aggressive horse? Ya… He’s a Top 1D barrel horse now……
He’s also won me some pretty spiffy stuff, including 2009 California State Champion…..
Okay, now that we have established that my horse is a complete total
ASSHOLE badass… We can move onto more important stuff…..
… Like my Parents.
Undoubtly the coolest people that have ever roamed the face of the planet….. besides….Jesus…. I guess. My dad is tougher than your dad, tenfold. My mom? Yea, she’s my personal Paula Dean, and way better hair. Together they produced a Rodeo Baking Savage or RBS: myself. Together, those little love birds have been together 36 years… ( I think, I’ll probably get a harassing phone call if I got that wrong)..
Let’s start with my mother. Probably the nicest person on the face of the planet, and ALWAYS has something cooking, and will always have you over for dinner… ( all my friends can vouche for that!) She even drug me to some food Convention when I was a wee-youngin in Sac*Town. I’m sure my mom was really excited to have a girl, until I grew up, and pitched fits about wearing dresses. My preschool picture? I wasn’t smiling.. She made me wear a dress… Whatever, she has my brother to play dress up with.
My Dad. Let’s paint a mental picture real quick…. Imagine me, 6 months old, strapped up in a car-seat in jeep, going hill climbing in the mountains. Yup, that’s my dad. I’m more like him then anything. Hard-headed, confident and have a 6-sense about causing trouble. At 16 years old, we we’re elbows deep in grease together rebuilting my blown engine in my 05 dodge 2500. He is the strongest man I know, and I will put money down on it. And I AM Daddy’s little girl, and it will stay that way until the day I die.
Wait? I thought this Blog is about Cupcakes and Sprinkles and Rainbows and Butterflies?!?!—-
Seriously? Have you just read the above?.. I mean… All I care about are horses right? Also another incorrect assumption. Not only will you be able to poke around my blog for some scrumptious baking idea’s to make your husband think you are a little Suzy Miss Home Baker, but you’ll also have access to my excersie journal, who created this magical person ( my parents) and what ever else I decide to post.
Common now, would I really post all these delicous recipies without a way to counteract the weight gain…. Ya, I don’t think so!