Well-orchestrated? That’s the word with which I concluded Part One of this series: the word NPR used to sum up, in a manner I considered cursory and condescending, the June 27 Clinton/Obama rally in Unity, New Hampshire, which David, my partner, and I attended. My take on that event is continued here: up close, very personal. To see and hear… Read More
PART ONE / the winning ways of a presumptive loser: Hillary’s remarkable acceptance speech
Late afternoon, Friday, June 27th, 2008. My partner and I were driving back to Vermont from Unity, New Hampshire. We were sunburned: we’d been outdoors from about ten to two, and neither of us had worn a hat or enough sunblock. We were damp: towards the end of that time, the skies had opened up, bursting very pregnant clouds into… Read More
in pursuit of purslane; political prayer
I know, I know… CD gets all gung-ho on blogging and then drops off the face of the earth. Why? A September book deadline, a July article deadline, and, with David, working on the most ambitious, satisfying, beautiful vegetable garden I have ever grown, but … Unity, New Hampshire & the writing process But that’s not why I’ve been so… Read More
the imperatives of beans (with some Escher, Dylan Thomas, and Tao thrown in)
This post began as an answer to a comment on the previous post, identity gumbo. But before I tell you why, a small news flash: yesterday the seeds of the Black Valentine pole beans I poked in the ground maybe a week or ten days ago emerged. The seedlings pushed up through the earth, some so eager, in their haste… Read More
identity gumbo
What does it matter if we know, or tell, our personal stories? I wrote, on June 9 post, about buying a lungwort plant at the annual plant sale for the Putney Library, and the extra pleasure that small bit of history gives me each year when it blooms. I love getting plants in such ways, rather than from a nursery…. Read More
insomniac lessons
There’s no doubt that my life would be more in sync with the way the world generally runs, if I had what are usually viewed as normal sleep patterns. I guess that is why some people use CBD products or simply smoke cannabis. Some people have aversions to smoking marijuana which is why using a vaporizer is often preferred. Fortunately,… Read More
narrative flowers, garden blues (Houseman, Hopkins, on harmony)
The moment: Saturday afternoon, May 7, 2008, 2:11 pm. The place: a house on the top of a hill, not far from the small town of Saxtons River, Vermont. The view: a southeast facing window in which a vividly green meadow, exclamation-marked with a stand of tall silver-white birches, is framed first by woods, then sinuous curve after curve of… Read More
blue-ribbon silliness
I’m still going through business cards gathered at April’s International Association of Culinary Professionals conference, catching up with what I scribbled on the back of each, reminders of promises made (probably foolishly, but with the best of intentions). If you look at the May 1 post, you’ll see that April was a whole month of bebopping above and beyond IACP…which… Read More
Ohhhhhhh-krahoma: eat/be eaten, “write naked” , vegetable chameleons
Ohhhhh-krahoma! (Or, the color purple). On Thursday I found actual okra plants, starts, seedlings! (If this doesn’t seem like big news to you , please go back and read the post for May 27). So maybe I will get some honest-to-goodness non "curiosity" okra from my very own garden this year. I’m still going to plant my okra seeds, though,… Read More
why every life should have a pugilistic 98-year old in it
Aunt Dot beats the odds again. Aunt Dot (Dorothy Arnof to the rest of the world except my brother, Stephen) is out of the hospital and back in her apartment on East 57th Street. (If this doesn’t sound like stop-the-presses news to you, please go back and read the posts for May 21 and May 19). Aunt Dot’s 98th birthday… Read More
My boyfriend’s (almost) back…
It’s 10:57 P.M., Wednesday night. I’ve been expecting the phone to ring and it does: David. His plane has landed at BDL, the Hartford, Connecticut airport. He’s just pulling out of the rental car parking lot. In about two hours, he’ll be here. When David was here last weekend, at one point we were fixing something, or maybe doing summerization… Read More
Playing Scrabble with the dead, feasting at the Brattleboro Farmers Market (with the very much alive)
The other day, Saturday, I’m driving down the unpaved road which leads from from my home at the top of the down to Westminster West Road. I’m with Traca Savadago, my "pan pal" and all-around buddy. She’s a friend in the meet and instantly feel you’ve known each other a long time category, though we’ve actually only known each other… Read More
