Hi friends, welcome
Hope the weeks been kind to you.
It was gorgeously sunny here today but cold as well so with a day off work that was my cue to light the back yard fire pit. The dogs enjoyed the company and I enjoyed burning all the dead branches that had been piled up in the corner of my yard since summer. I think I feel most myself in the vicinity of a garden and a good fire.
So what are your plans for the weekend? I hope some resting, relaxing and enjoying things you love is on the menu.
Hope this helps too
A Good Word
A Good Look
Lets call this one “letting the woods talk”
See more of this gorgeousness here
A Good Idea
from Kimberly Coyle
A practice for paying attention this summer (or winter):
If your days melt into an undistinguishable puddle of time, reconsider your daily routines and habits.
What new habit, novel experience, or small tweak could you introduce to make your days slightly more memorable?
I still remember those few sticky summer days my mom let me buy an ice cream from the ice cream truck. Why? Because it was different from the grocery store popsicles I always had access to in our freezer.
Reconsider your popsicle days. Your walking route. The first conversation you have each morning. Your coffee flavor. Your summer book genre.
You never know what delight might wait for you on the other side of reconsideration.
A Few Good Reads
When I moved to New York City in the late 1990s, I discovered ramen. Not the packets at the grocery store in packs of six for $1.00 that I cooked in my dorm room but the hand-pulled noodles served in ramen houses whose steam-fogged windows welcomed you to a hazy world where men in business suits and women in practical shoes sat at tables and bars with their heads facing down over a bowl of broth. Rooms both sweaty and silent, except for the nonstop slurping of noodles. No one even paused for breath.
On the menu at every one of these restaurants — after the add-ons for corn, tamago, scallions, fish ball, chashu and butter — was kaedama, a magical word that means “extra noodles.” Once I learned this, I fell in love with the indulgence of getting more of something before I’d even finished what I had. I ordered kaedama every chance I could – – – keep reading
Of all the many anxiety-inducing moments in The Devil Wears Prada, one scene in particular feels the most high stress.
Runway Editor-in-Chief Miranda Priestly (Meryl Streep) is stuck in Miami due to a hurricane, which she insists is nothing more than “just drizzling” rain. She orders her new assistant, Andy Sachs (Anne Hathaway), to find her a flight back to New York City so she can catch her daughters’ school recital the next morning.
Despite making countless frantic calls in the middle of Times Square and even contemplating calling in the National Guard for a last-minute assist, Andy fails to complete the task. It’s the first time she doesn’t rise to the occasion on the job, and Miranda predictably lambasts her for not being able to control the weather – – – keep reading
When restaurants closed a little more than a year ago, like so many, I spent more time in the kitchen, roasting chickens and baking bread.
Eventually, I upped my game with local and seasonal (Shad roe, a taste I did not acquire), basics I had never made (fried chicken — I mean, really?) and the esoteric Jambon Persillé a French appetizer made of ham hock simmered in white wine and made into a terrine with a hefty amount of parsley.
At the same time, I missed traveling to places near and far, discovering what’s on their plates. So travel I would, from my small kitchen in the NoMa neighborhood of D.C.
The thing is, I’m no trained chef. “Follows directions” never got checked on report cards. Mistakes happen. No sweat or tears, yet. But there has been blood (knives are frenemies), and when I roasted potatoes last weekend, flames shot out of the oven like a Kiss concert – – – – keep reading