The fish, the pond; they’re relative.

Before I launch into this week's story, a couple of postscripts to my last two posts (ante-post postscripts?): First, thanks to the WordPress team for my third Freshly Pressed nod (given for Idiometry), and welcome new followers! So glad to have you here. Second, thanks to all who have commented - here, on Facebook and … Continue reading The fish, the pond; they’re relative.

On being a Jennifer.

My mother wanted to name me Guinevere, but my father would not have it. Mama was convinced that her family was descended from a line of Celtic royalty, that something had gone terribly amiss, and that it was her destiny to research and reclaim their heritage. I am exaggerating only very slightly. And I exaggerate … Continue reading On being a Jennifer.

Summer: the book report.

Ah, summer reading, the special torture devised by teachers to deprive children of a carefree break from school. I hated summer reading. I'm a slow reader, for one thing, and, for another thing, I have always had a penchant for reading junk fiction. My teachers didn't care. They never, not once, assigned a Ken Follet … Continue reading Summer: the book report.

Tales of 4th grade everything.

Fourth grade was my favorite year of school either because Mrs. Rutherford, whom I adored, was my teacher or because Mrs. Rutherford read to us, among many other books, From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, one of my favorite books of all time, ever. Looking back, I should have loved 4th grade … Continue reading Tales of 4th grade everything.

Hey, dude, where’s my menu?

Hey, dude, I'm on vacation! But not to fear, here's a story I posted last summer complete with a menu that takes full advantage of what's at the market right now, pick of the season. happy week. Blackberry Summer (originally published 7.20.13) My mother's parents were farmers, and their farm had everything from peanuts to … Continue reading Hey, dude, where’s my menu?

How to cook absolutely nothing.

About a year ago, when Super Bowl XLVII rolled around, we were six weeks into Mom's awful food makeover (that's what my family called it).  Inspired by Michael Pollan's book, In Defense of Food, I had wiped from our house virtually every one of my family's favorite junk foods: Go-Gurt, Nacho Cheese Doritos, Kraft American … Continue reading How to cook absolutely nothing.