Sometimes, it's actually just about food. One of the things I realized on our wild mother-daughter trip was that I need to double down on getting my daughter to expand her food horizons. When she was little, I did a fairly good job of introducing new foods and tastes, and I always had the back-up … Continue reading Rigatoni with artichoke hearts and red onion.
Think of this, perhaps, as a sketch of something I'm still working out: The door jamb between our kitchen and the laundry room is unpainted on one side, littered with pencil marks -- initials, dates, hash lines that predate our moving in. It was one of the things clear in my imagining of our future, … Continue reading Underpainting.
I came home for lunch, as I often do. And while I was home, I took the ridiculous, hairy, shedding, barking Newfie for a walk, as I often do when I come home for lunch. We were walking, the dog and I, up the alley behind our house, taking advantage of a short break in … Continue reading Something interrupted.
If the first part of this story didn't happen exactly as described, then understand that it was close to this, and that the specifics don't matter. Plus, it will better preserve privacy that I don't recall some of the details, and since I don't have a way to ask permission to tell this tale, retelling … Continue reading Something about doing the work.
(For anyone counting, this is 41 of 56. After this, there are 15 to go. And this one? It's short. And there are recipe links.) So, back to food and cooking: Once upon a time, in the Before Times, I used to come home from my office in the middle of the day, most days, … Continue reading Something for lunch.
She arrived at the door with a big paper grocery sack, handed off the goods, and left promptly, knowing full well what life was like with a toddler and a new baby at home. In the grocery sack were three Ziploc bags: Wide noodles; sauce; chopped Romaine (freshly chopped from a real head of lettuce, … Continue reading Something sentimental.
(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.
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.
