I’m often amazed at the wondrous things one can discover without having to travel halfway around the world. That was the case this weekend when we found ourselves in Eatonton, GA . The town is located about 75 miles east of Atlanta via I-20. Looking …
I didn’t think I’d be that person showing images of the family dog to the nice staff person at the garden center. But here I am! I think that I’m one of those folks who can bring back every phrase in a conversation to our sweet, furry girl. All roads lead back to her.
This time, we were talking about the merits of various fruit trees to decide which ones would join our gardens. Having had success with numerous berries in the Black Garden, I was now exploring more exotic fruits I’d never grown. My one condition: did they have any plants that might produce enough for us to share with our pup?! We had long given up on keeping her at bay. The staff and I giggled and giggled. I left the nursery with delights for the whole family.
Our girl, after all, shares so much with me. When we walk around our neighborhood, she sets the pace, encouraging me to stop here and there to to see the tulips, lilacs, blossoming trees, and of course the great stick ready to come home with us.
I suspect that she’s drawn to these plants like she is to certain humans. They welcome her, they smell nice, and they are beautiful.
As she roots under clover, pressing her paws in a dew-covered field, or pokes her long snout everywhere, she reminds me to stay curious and seek beauty, too.
“Trees and plants always look like the people they live with, somehow.” — Zora Neale Hurston
Our family way of life is usually quite spontaneous. Our plans will have edges that keep us together but everything in between stays loose. Who knows what you’ll see, smell, hear or taste if everything isn’t charted out? Those who accompany us either love it …
This past weekend, I had the absolute pleasure of attending the 149th Kentucky Derby in Louisville. This was my first time going to Churchill Downs, so I really didn’t know what to expect. What I observed, (ten times over what I had anticipated) was a …
Waterways. My residency has been going swimmingly (yes, pun intended) and affords me space to reflect, learn, rest, and make. Like waterways, there’s a confluence in my activity and lack thereof. There’s an emphasis on being still sometimes, flowing as I feel the urge, and moving with an urgency when it hits. In Pullman, there’s an intermingling of making and sitting and reading and exploring and wondering.
Most of all, it’s been an invitation for my collaborators to be in community with me.
Spring pasta? Why yes. April in Chicago is the mixed-messenger. Warm one day, a cold snap the next. Spring rainbows of daffodils, tulips, and hyacinths grace every patch of dirt today only to be dusted with snow tomorrow. It’s less rainy and more hot-then-cold. So …
Recently, I was fortunate enough to be back in Istanbul after a twenty-five year absence. Some things had changed but, for the most part, it was as stunning as it had ever been. In addition to blue glass amulets to replace my original one broken …
We’re one of those families. We love bread. I mean we love it. For a few years before the pandemic, my husband baked four beautiful loaves every week. Gosh, you should see the smile on my face as I write that sentence.
As everyone and their puppy started making sourdough starters and artful focaccia during lockdown, the staple ingredients became harder to come by. For a while, he continued to bake but eventually our waists couldn’t keep up as we hit the starchy spot: the ratio of bread consumption to exercise tipped more heavily in bread’s favor…
It’s been two years since he doffed his baker’s apron and pulled out the requisite paniers, razor, peel, and whatnot. I sure do miss it.
For a getaway, we once again visited Charleston, South Carolina and the surrounding areas. Charleston carries so much charm, but it also has a haunting past. When I look at many of the photos below, they seem to reflect the duality of the city. The azaleas …
