Culinary experiments are rarely a good thing when guests will be sitting down to eat.…
The Real Problem With Donald Trump
We were preparing supper, I think, when my Dear One said, a propos of nothing, “You know what the problem is with Trump?” “No,” I answered, “What is the problem with Trump?” I held back the thought that essentially nothing is right with Trump. “He thinks he’s a...
Pictures Sometimes Need A Thousand Words
So many people seem to think a work of art in a representational style can be taken in at a glance. It is what it is, the way a photograph is a replication of whatever was parked in front of the camera. Ease of recognition, however, can result in profound...
Thoughts on Flutterbys In The Garden
I cannot, of the life of me, get that pesky monarch to pause and pose for a picture. I have a pretty long lens on the camera and I don’t need to get very close, but still. Very irritating. I’ve never spent much time watching butterflies. I learned to differentiate...
Hey, DNC! In This Case, Less Just Might Be More
As we approach the second Democratic debate, the herd is just too large. Even this early on. Few of the runners stand out in that cloud of dust. Those watching the race are learning anything meaningful about those stuck in the pack. Those that really don’t stand a...
On The Eve Of The First Democratic Debates
Twenty-four? Twenty-five? The special supplement to The New York Times lists twenty-two. And I thought seven candidates was a lot in 1992. The first “debates”—which is to say the first round of televised statements sanctioned by the Democratic National Party—will...
Fifty Years Out Of Emma Willard School
The Saturday of Reunion weekend marked fifty years to that June 14th when Emma Willard’s class of 1969 gathered in the greensward triangulated by the Chapel, the new Library and Weaver Science Building. It was hot and humid—we had worried that early morning...
San Francisco 1: I Begin at the End
One thing just leads to another. And another. And another. It is now 10:51 A.M. Pacific time on 15 May 2019 and I am using a program called “Notes” which is definitely not Word and it is horrible. I can’t get into Office, it seems, because the...
It Can Always Be Worse
The phone rang. Caller ID said it was the Tattooed Boy, perhaps to wish my Dear One “Happy Birthday” because, after all, it was February 8. But a woman whose voice I did not recognize spoke, saying there had been an accident and that Jay wanted to talk. He had been...