cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
While prepping ingredients for dinner on a Monday evening, I opened up a dialogue with one of my boys who was making his way through the kitchen. Holding the significance of the day, I asked if they did anything at school in honor of 9/11. His response, not really. “Did you have a moment of…
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One recent morning, a memory of the smell of the Cape Cod shoreline seared across me so sharply I almost gasped. Our memories of place can have this effect on us. After decades in the southwestern desert, I still miss the scarlet reds of east coast maple trees in autumn so much that I sometimes…
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“To be ignorant of one’s past is like an eagle forever being imprisoned in a cage.”
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