Night begins when I wearily climb the stairs to my flat and kick off my heels and change into a little knit dress that feels like wearing PJs. I drop my bag and keys, and head to the kitchen to make something simple for dinner. Maybe a couple of eggs, or a large salad with whatever I happen to have in the fridge. If I have the whole evening at home and am feeling inspired, I might take the time…
Why is cooking not a generally accepted life skill? Here’s the thing- we all must eat to live, and eating requires, at the most basic level, some form of cooking. We don’t make it a point of conversation to ask people if they know how to brush their teeth or bathe, and then act excited when we find out they are actually very good at such activities. “Oh my goodness, you know how to floss!? Can you please teach me?…
Have I mentioned that I moved to New York City for one year? When I packed up my small-town life and came up here on a hope and a prayer, I always thought I’d stick it out for at least one year, because anything less just isn’t giving it a proper shot. I didn’t know what would happen after that- if I would return to my comfortable North Carolina town or try a new place- but at least I would…
See, I have this friend in Brooklyn who is my go-to for my food adventures and early last year we stumbled upon the brilliant idea of eating our way around the breads of the world, right here in New York City. The rules were simple: eat from as many different countries as possible, try to stay away from the obvious choices like pizza, eat something bready or breaded or at least starchy at each spot, and expand our palettes! Of…
Hello my pineappley friends, It’s been a minute since we’ve had a chatty, catch-up sort of post, hasn’t it? I blinked and November was here, the most wonderful time of the year (sorry Andy Williams, but I’m right.), with the dry leaves skittering across the pavement, the nor’easters popping up out of nowhere and raining straight into my shoes and breaking my wonderful wind-proof umbrella, the trees turning almost garishly bright colors, and the radiators once again rattling away and…
Dear friend, I was just utterly charmed by a tiny glimpse of a white slip on the train and I thought you might understand. I was traveling home late at night from a work event, a bit damp from the gusty rain outside, when an old lady entered the train car and sat directly across from me- well, not really old, probably only 60 or so, but she looked like life hadn’t given her many roses. You know those people…
Now that the world has somewhat opened up, I once again find myself with long stretches on the train, casting about for ways to amuse myself. Although I have a trusty little office at home and don’t have daily commutes to work, I do have frequent hours on the train to church and back, as well as to other social events, and since I don’t always manage to have a book at my fingertips (sometimes I run out of mass…
There isn’t much to make you reevaluate all your choices and accomplishments and realize how very little you’ve done yet with your life like hitting another decade. From the wisdom of my upper twenties I scoffed at the thought of minding this birthday, but when it came around the bend, I found myself quailing with the best of them. It’s hard not to, when the next step is middle age and you haven’t yet reached many of the measures of success which culture holds up for you.
Before I moved here, when I spent many free hours devouring all the NYC information I could find, I often came across articles discussing how long you had to live here to actually count as a real New Yorker, or just what had to happen to you as a sort of christening before you could claim the title. Obviously, all these opinions are subjective, but ever a fan of lists, I have my own theories- my own sort of mental…
I know NYC is not everyone’s cup of tea. When I moved here a few years ago, plenty of people made that very clear by their incredulous comments or glances, but frankly, I’m glad it’s that way. Obviously the whole world cannot live in one place, so it’s just as well that not everyone wants to, even if I feel ever so lucky I get to be here. But since I am nothing if not helpful, if you are one…
Sometimes, there are no words. That’s how it feels when I consider Sunday, our first service back at church after sixteen months apart. Was it was only a dream, or was it the last sixteen months that were a bad dream from which I suddenly awoke? I find it a little hard to tell. If you’ve ever read “A Wrinkle In Time”, you might recall that in it, Madeleine L’Engle describes time as a fabric that can be wrinkled so…
I drive home from the church picnic at sunset, my arms slowly growing more strawberry-hued from my earlier game of croquet in the sun. The grass was far too long to play properly, but that didn’t stop us from having a jolly good game, filled with much good-natured ribbing. The burgers and meadow tea were sublime, and I found the potato salad filled with pickles that I like best on the potluck food line. After the meal, I watched the…