The little blue and white boxes full of sawdust are fine for “normal” times, but hard times demand the taste of browned butter ricocheting around your mouth like the silver shot in an old pinball machine.
I know I’m not alone in this. The second day of our being in the house I started. Baking, that is. With and without yeast. Sweet and savory. My movie-star glamorous cousin Amy says the “Quaranfifteen” will prove as universal as the “Freshman Fifteen.” This sweet bread recipe was posted by Kitchen Goddess Eleanor. When… Continue reading Baking our way through the apocalypse — Amish cinnamon bread
Of course, death is always with us in vast quantities that we can only imagine when we can’t sleep at night. But the ones that have gobsmacked me at holiday time started with a Shakespeare seminar classmate in college. I didn’t know him well, but when he disappeared over Christmas break in a small plane… Continue reading There’s always a death at Christmas
I broke my foot in June and quickly gained 14 pounds — faster, you might say, than a heifer on a feed lot. That was five months ago. Since September I’ve carved off nine of those pounds — as slowly as sculpting marble with a butter knife. Aaargh, that’s all I can say. (Of course,… Continue reading Emo eating, addiction and wellness
So on Day 101 at the Y I was 15 pounds lighter than 101 days previously, I co-taught a Silver Sneakers class and then went to a 60-minute kettle bell demonstration. All in my purple tutu with LED lights (3 speeds). Lessons learned: A tutu on big hips sticks straight out like a ruffle on… Continue reading Girls just want to have fun, #101daysagymrat
Something I never expected to hear: Stoic the Vast saying, “Wow (!), I can’t believe how much I like these.” Nothing new for me — I’ve loved Brussels sprouts since before I can remember, but Stoic… These sprouts from the March issue of Our State — Celebrating North Carolina magazine, though, are something else. The… Continue reading Boffo Brussels sprouts
I feel sure Norman Rockwell never painted a Christmas holiday picture of a frantic elf stepping over plumbing fixtures in her bathroom, blowing sheet rock dust off every cosmetic and lotion on the counters. Yet that’s the picture in our house six days before my second hip replacement. I am going to try very,… Continue reading Norman Rockwell — not! Honey-mustard carrots