With apologies for a long silence we are pleased to deliver to you a beautiful dispatch from a particularly enlightened mother on one of the more trying episodes of parenthood. Cold and flu season is upon us, and whether or not we enforce our prophylactic measures perfectly, vaccinations and clean hands and keeping ears covered seem not to hold all of the magical power this year I expect from them. So fear not, read on, stay strong, and just remember: this too will pass.
Things are always accidentally slipping away. Especially when you are rather absent-minded, or also caring for a small child who is very slowly learning what “flinging” and “throwing” and well “losing” something might mean.
It has taken three Aprils and nearly as many Mays for me to feel like I’m getting the hang of living in Britain, for it to feel like home. Along with the obvious (time passed, friendships formed, residence herein), uncountable little things contribute: bookstore selections, snack aisles of grocery stores, television program(me)s.
Cover image is a screenshot of the Barbican website: Hyde Park, London (1953) by Cas Oorthuys is currently on view as part of Strange and Familiar.
This weekend we celebrate the beginning of the summer, whether we call it Memorial Day or not. Barbecues and swimming holes and sun hats beckon. Our public pools shall open, we shall brush last summer’s sand from our sandals, and hopefully the sun will emerge long enough to let us enjoy at least one of the two. This, I must admit, is my favorite time of the year.
In today's special post, my wicked smart sister Carolyn explains the ins, the outs, the whats and the whys of homemade kombucha! Read on for her method, her madness, and how to bring up a baby SCOBY!
The kitchen is the most beautiful, brightest, best-smelling room in my house. Like a good Dutch flower painting, all stages of life are on display. It lends itself perfectly to A Grazing Lunch, one of the great pleasures of an unruly kitchen - or simply of being home at lunchtime. But sometimes there's cause to work a little harder, to knead too.
