You know when you’re at brunch and the waiter talks of their artisan jam? “It’s made from hand-picked organic cherries in Michigan, this tiny little farm off 96, and we infuse it with fresh mint from our herb wall over there and really, you’re not going to believe it. It’s divine. Trust me. Would you
Well, listen. I think you’re fine just the way you are. Sure, you might benefit from a crash course in assertiveness. It might do you some good to cut the sugar, to read the classics, to schedule yourself a detox bath twice a week. But it might not. It might just make you feel gloriously
Roughly nine years ago, I wrote gift guides for a living. I’d title them with sly, witty link bait like, ’10 Genius Gifts For Your Co-Ed Nephew Who Swears His Alarm Clock Is Broken But We’ve Seen The Timestamp On His Twitter Feed.’ I don’t do gift guides anymore. — Once, years ago, I scoured
Well, it’s just that the days are really, really long in the short kind of way. The dark by 5:30 way, the pent up energy way, the bouncing from walls way (her) and the silence, please way (you). The beauty of motherhood is that you learn to power through it. You do it because you
Toddler books. Some of them are nuts, Amen? Just yesterday, I plucked a ripe one from the yellowed oak library shelf and I flipped through the first few pages, then a few more, then finally the end and I still have no earthly intimation of the plot. There was a dinosaur and a cherry pie,
Fall is ending. Our last unseasonably warm stretch is behind us, and I’ve traded my straw hat for wool. — The highlight of her evening is Octonauts. She likes it because Dashy (or is it Tweak?) talks like a Country-Western star and Bee has, since, adopted this trait for herself. Where’s mah coat? I need
My friend Anna bakes the most delicious confections. When we lived in Los Angeles, she’d arrive to the cookout or rooftop party with something extravagantly hand-crafted, like a Malaysian Seri Muka or artisan lavender shortbread cookies infused with a sprig of fresh mint from her garden. Once, she tackled an oversized butterscotch creme brulee for
Well, here’s what I think about being unplugged. I love it. I love to be unplugged, to wax philosophically over what our nation’s ultra-connectedness is perhaps doing to our children, to our elders, to the society at large, to the shape of our culture forever and ever, Amen. We talk about it often, at dinner