Oh, August. Already. And how?
Three years in on canning and jam, we have officially declared a tradition: Ann started a file. Now we will look back and remember, year over year. What we processed, what our yields were. Remember, too, the people and the stories that swirl around and through the steam in the canning kitchen. Continue reading
Down in Los Angeles, we took walks to visit the community garden that Dan and Kate and the girls belong to. The newly planted carrot seeds in their bed needed watering, and anyway the kids were eager to explore this secret place, tucked above the city like some magical farmer-fairy kingdom. They tripped and climbed over each other, along terraced pathways that meandered around garden beds, past the rich blackness of the compost pile, under giant avocado trees. Bees buzzed amidst blooming lavender and rosemary, and orange-and-black wings danced through the air. As each butterfly dipped and swooped and bobbed past them, Sonia and Alma – and soon Jacob and Lucas, too – would cry out, “Monarch!”
Fresh air, sunshine, avocados straight from the tree! What more could our darlings need? Ah … extravagant dust baths and the chance to nearly impale each other with muddy trowels and antique weed-hooking thingies. Apparently.
Two weeks ago, our dear friend Jane took Jacob behind the scenes at the Space Sciences Lab at Berkeley. Though I eventually dissuaded Jacob from wearing his astronaut suit (it was raining, the suit is white …) he insisted on his NASA cap. He followed Jane through the long hallways, some moments strutting like a little space rooster and others hiding under his cap’s giant brim. Scientists and astronomers and engineers and grad students all shook his hand and welcomed him with smiles just as serious as his; perhaps it was the cap, but it felt like they recognized one of their own. Continue reading
I’m honored to once again participate in a food justice campaign with The Giving Table. Today’s post is in support of The Lunchbox Fund; our goal is to help nourish some of the world’s most vulnerable people, the hungry young children of South Africa. I hope you’ll pull up a chair and join us for lunch. Continue reading
My junior year of college, I went running and locked myself out of my apartment. Normally a hassle, it became a crisis because it happened to be the night before an early morning flight to Seattle; we were headed north in about ten hours, for Thanksgiving with my mom’s family. My roommate was already gone, my landlord nowhere to be found, and I didn’t even have a jacket with me, much less my car keys. Continue reading
The rain arrived today, and I was glad. After a morning of fingers slammed in doors and heads caught in bag handles, of favorite shirts gone missing and rain boots on the lam – after that morning, I was ready for some soft edges, craving the fresh clean smell of the wide wet world, anticipating the coziness of twisting steam and rain-blurred windows.