This has to come in two parts, I’m afraid, because instead of writing tonight I spent the evening in the kitchen with my daughter, talking about Marie of France.

We were talking about books we liked, and I mentioned the book I’d just finished reading for my book group.

“What was it about?” my daughter asked.

“It was a fictional account of Marie de France,” I said.

“The Lais? That Marie de France?” she asked.

“Well, yes. Sort of. Maybe. Her story is all vague and lost to history, so it made for a good novel, one I think you’d enjoy,” I said.

It was an unexpected, and quite delightful, conversation.

I cooked; we ate; we talked; we cleaned the kitchen; we talked some more; she showed me a video (a French class project for a story written by Marie of France); we took the dogs out. We talked about women, and writing, and stories, and romance, and history, and truth.

So, while I had planned to write, I did not write. I listened to my daughter’s animated talk about how much she enjoyed reading the Lais, even though it was hard reading them in French.

And now this post that I started a few days ago will come in two parts, and the first part will be prelude, or, perhaps, some pre-reading:

It’s Time to Stop Talking About Generations (The New Yorker)

Generation Labels Mean Nothing; It’s Time to Retire Them. (Washington Post)

Generativity vs Stagnation in Psychosocial Development (Very Well Mind)

One Man in His Time Plays Many Psychosocial Parts (The New York Times — originally published in 1970 and available, unedited and unaltered, through digital archive)

If you read only one of those articles, let it be the last one, the 1970 NYT article. Tomorrow you’ll understand why that’s the one I recommend.

Now, about that curried sweet potato soup recipe from yesterday:

My verdict? Meh.

It wasn’t bad; it just wasn’t good. I tinkered with it, after it had finished cooking, because I tasted it, said, “meh,” and tried to make it better. I didn’t throw it out, but I wouldn’t make it again.

It’s possible that I had extremely earthy-tasting sweet potatoes, because the overwhelming flavor was dirt (not literally, of course, but you get the idea?).

Up next in my kitchen, then, is something I know will be warm, enjoyable, and delicious: Ina Garten’s Beef Bourguignon. I haven’t made it in ages, so I’m due for a fix. And while it does its thing in the oven, I’ll tidy up and finish the Generations piece I promised you yesterday.

Don’t give up; I don’t, so you shouldn’t, either.

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