How is it that one hour can make such a difference? I yawned and stretched and tried to come to life this morning, but it’s raining outside and David is in the kitchen making waffles, so maybe just 15 more minutes?
Yesterday, I boarded a bus to Philly to catch up with my pal Jenna. We toured the Museum of the American Revolution and walked around Center City, stopping at this perfect little coffee shop before basking in the sunshine on the steps of the National Constitution Center for awhile.
My friend Sahar and I have started a book club at work, and it was a really fun way to meet people who don’t usually bump into around the office. We read Killers of the Flower Moon, which is not a book I’d normally pick up, but it sparked fascinating conversation about government corruptions, race and identity, money and power—making it a very good selection indeed.
On Tuesday I stopped by a tea shop to ask a few questions about brewing methods and smells and flavors. The woman at the counter patiently answered my questions, no doubt amused by how much one person could overthink the application of water to tea leaves. I didn’t mind being at the heart of her amusement.
Go Home to Your ‘Dying’ Hometown
People leave their hometowns for a lot of different reasons, and often there is no reason to ever, ever look back. But sometimes we are drawn back there—because of family, because of nostalgia—and if we do return, perhaps we have an obligation to make it better for the next generation.
I do 80% of my grocery shopping at Trader Joe’s, which I think many of us view as a sort of alternative to traditional grocery stores. But even the halo effect of “alternative” could not sweep away the shame of their wasteful packaging practices (or unsustainable fishing). This decision moves the needle closer to “ethical alternative to traditional grocery stories.”
I’ve spent most of my life trying to trick myself into drinking more water.
David returned from Texas one time, eager to tell me that he had tasted the best BBQ of his life at a gas station. My reaction: “Okay. And?”
Women: may we always be this full of contradictions.
Take good care of your family, y’all.
A Shorter Read
Poetry—or music—is not something I usually seek out. Their forms seemed stiff and tightly controlled, and meanwhile prose was left to rise and tumble in gorgeous waves, untamed. But this year I want to be surrounded by poetry, and I find myself sweeping it up, like leaves, into an ever-growing pile around me.
A day so happy.
Fog lifted early. I worked in the garden.
Hummingbirds were stopping over the honeysuckle flowers.
There was no thing on earth I wanted to possess.
I knew no one worth my envying him.
Whatever evil I had suffered, I forgot.
To think that once I was the same man did not embarrass me.
In my body I felt no pain.
When straightening up, I saw blue sea and sails.
A new podcast from the Brooklyn Public Library launches this week—can’t wait to check it out.
Friends, I knew this story—I remember seeing it unfold on the news—and I was still completely moved by this episode of 99% Invisible.
David and I were catching up on the Oscar nominees the past few weeks and finally watched A Star is Born, Blackkklansman, and The Favorite. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if you have to pick one, make it A Star is Born (which I kicked and screamed about watching all the way through the opening credits).
On Netflix, don’t miss After Life, a new dramady from Ricky Gervais. And later this month, Colette comes to Amazon Prime.
I know, I know…Macklemore. But this a fun video and a decent song.
Look, I won’t tell you to use this video in your meditation—after all, exactly how can you meditate in the face of extreme wealth—but maybe more as an appreciation of nature and architecture and wonder.
We all know Gene Kelly’s infamous Singin’ in the Rain scene, but this It’s Always Fair Weather scene was new to me—and on roller skates too!