Something sad happened in my daughter's life today, so my afternoon and evening have belonged to her. In a few minutes, at her invitation, I'm going to join her in her room, snuggling in her bed to watch Money Heist, which I've already seen and will gladly watch again. I will snuggle with her and … Continue reading Something for bedtime.
How this started, you'll remember, was as a challenge to myself to write and post something daily for 56 straight days, in celebration of my 56th birthday, because that is (according to my children) how old people celebrate because old people are very boring (again, according to my children). How it's going is not exactly … Continue reading Something silver.
(Originally posted with the title, "The Moon Is Like China," on August 23, 2014. The version below is a revision and, therefore, quite a bit different from the original.) One day, at some point in our childhood, my sister and I were riding in the car, and my sister, staring out the window, said, apropos … Continue reading Something recycled.
Memphis readers (of a certain age, at least), come with me on memory field trip: I'm little, maybe three years old, and I'm going to the grocery store with my mother. We park the car, walk hand-in-hand to the door, enter the store. My mother gets a shopping cart, lifts me into it so I … Continue reading Something sweet.
My mother was born on a farm in rural Tennessee in the mid 1930s, after the Great Depression ended but before economic recovery found that particular remote outpost. Her father, who had the God-given talent of being able to fix anything mechanical at first sight, chose instead to be a preacher and to live off … Continue reading Field peas.
Tomato pie was an adulthood discovery for me. One evening, years ago, we gathered with neighbors on our front porch for a summer potluck (possibly a July 4th gathering, though also possibly not), and one neighbor's contribution was a pair of magazine-worthy tomato pies that featured beautiful hand-curled crusts and a rainbow array of heirloom … Continue reading Heirlooms.
The first rule of knives, in my mother's teaching, was the most important because it has to do with people and relationships. The rule was simple: Knives are not given but sold. If you think a friend or neighbor (or child, partner, or spouse) might enjoy having a particular knife, then tape a penny to … Continue reading No. Knife skills are not bulls*it.
I sent my son back to college last week, waving with what I hope looked like cheerfulness as he backed his truck from the driveway. He returned 20 minutes later, having forgotten something important, though I can't now remember what it was. A shirt, maybe, or a favorite jacket. He pulled in front of the … Continue reading Flat circles.
