My mother's parents were farmers, and their farm had everything from peanuts to peaches. They also had blackberry bushes, the harvest of which was my mother's least favorite activity. My mother had fragile alabaster skin, and walking through the blackberry brush left her looking like she'd rolled in a barbed wire fence. At least, that's … Continue reading Blackberry summer.
Two years ago (ish), I arrived home from work at almost 6:00, about 45 minutes later than planned. Instead of "Hi, honey, how was your day?" I walked in to "Where have you been? The kids are starving!" "You are a 43 year old grown man; if the kids are hungry, feed them!" "If you … Continue reading Weekly menu: 1.7.13