(No, this isn't that post either. One day soon, just not today. This one's 49, for anyone who's counting. Obviously, I am counting....) It was a completely gorgeous day here on Saturday -- cool, clear, and breezy. A picture-perfect fall day. And at the farmers market were all the goods to prove that, once again, … Continue reading Something easy.
(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.
Tonight's adventure in motherhood? Finding photos for my daughter's (surprise!) yearbook ad that was due yesterday but that I've been allowed to submit tomorrow, because my daughter's school yearbook people took pity on me after I begged. Also, reading and helping with a few more college essays. And when I finish that, I have to … Continue reading Something real.
Catchy, right? Well it's late - like, down to the wire kind of late - and this is the 30 day mark, so you know I'm not missing this one, and I thought a little extra attention-grabbing header might be in order, but "Something about sex toys" seemed off brand here. So, vodka. And there's … Continue reading Something about vodka.
I'll preface what's next with a very short and not too sad story about the life-long impact of shame: When I was tiny, I scribbled on a page in a book, and I was scolded so harshly, in front of other people, that I still, decades later, can barely bring myself to write, even in … Continue reading Something about recipes.
The only (relatively) important point here is this one: Peace is an inside job. If you're just scrolling through and see only the first line because you've got a busy day and don't have time to read more, then you're all set, with just that first line. If you're here for a little while longer, … Continue reading Something peaceful.
The thing I remember most clearly is the feeling of terrible surprise. If I'd lived in the middle of things instead of five hours away, of course, I would be remembering, and writing, an entirely different story - if I'd been lucky enough to live to write the story. But I was in Memphis, close … Continue reading Something about oceans.
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.