On Poison Ivy and Mulch
It's late July, so in the garden, I hope to be doing only two things: weeding and watering. Planning done. Planting done. Then I hope to be sitting down with a lemon-rosemary shrub made by Patrick Lango of White Cow Dairy, in Buffalo.
Thanksgiving is Bombastic
Thanksgiving is bombastic. There is too much food. There is no thoughtful succession of courses to ease you through the feast; just one bulging buffet. There are too many unique must-have items on the table. Cousin Lucy loves parsnips and Marcy always brings green beans. There is repetition in flavor, texture, and plant-part. (Sweet potatoes, white potatoes, parsnips—three roots. Then, soft stuffing.)
Sobriety in Moderation
At forty-two years old, I lost my mind and soul. With three young children, a wonderful husband, and work I loved, I lacked for nothing. But I was a slave to my daily drink and I knew it.
Goodbye Friday
At eleven weeks pregnant, I had a miscarriage. I began bleeding on Good Friday and on Easter Monday I lost our baby. This was fitting, as our son Jacob had named the baby Jesus. Though I’d felt the sense of an ending over the previous four days, the actual event — I was standing in the cold rain, buying an ivory ostrich egg — was pitilessly clear in its finality and meaning. Our little baby could not stay with us in this life.
Bee Pollen and Bit Man Invent Cooking
Scene: Qesem Cave, Central Israel
Middle Pleistocene, 400,000-200,000 years ago
Bee Pollen and Bit Man sit around the fire