A Home Cook's Journal of Tastes & Morsels
How to try and mend a heart. Take a road trip. See new faces. Relocate, as many times as you have to. Read. Don’t read. Lose concentration. Let someone think whatever they want without trying to resolve it. Let that ruin other opinions because it wasn’t your poison, anyway. Practice yoga. Stop practicing yoga. Practice…
I remember a brick of feta drizzled in olive oil. That’s it? The concept seemed so foreign. Yes. Please. Yes, please. Simple pleasures. Purple buds on tree limbs. A guttural laugh. When you will never let yourself put too much honey in your tea, but someone else does for you and you do not have…
I caught everyone’s cold this past week. I caught everyone’s cold. It was like hotdish, a hodgepodge of everything at once. Bits and bobs of everyone’s illness jumbled together and infiltrated my core just in time for two days off in a row. That first night, I awoke at three in the morning to the…
I wrote another post for this and then I deleted it. It was about nothing, which wasn’t what I wanted to say. I have been known to get a little weird this time of year, anyway. It has been nearly half my life that I have been weird this time of year. Thirteen years. And…
I have been tattooed four times in the same place. It is a sensitive place, a place where the skin is too soft, where it would hurt to be pinched, where the pain refers to other places. I realized this time around, as my White Tulip finally evolved into its greatest self, that there was…
Sometimes, everything is a delicate balance. It isn’t even just the day-in, day-out spinning plates teetering around us, threatening to smash. We all have stuff. We all juggle. We get tricked into thinking we are missing fingers. We find quarters behind ears. We encounter surprises around darkened corners. Sometimes, things pull streamers we hadn’t known…
We have all these terms for groups of animals. A grumble of pugs. A wreck of seabirds. A bed of oysters. A wisdom of wombats. A pride of peacocks. All of these, singular terms to quantify (simply) the wild creatures that surround us. Here’s my question: what might we call the throngs of feral thoughts…
