One of the benefits of gardening in the South. January 27: tomatoes are sprouting and onions are planted.
One of the benefits of gardening in the South. January 27: tomatoes are sprouting and onions are planted.
Eureka! I finally discovered a good use for whey left over from yogurt-making. Add it to the pot when cooking steel-cut oatmeal. Makes for a delicious tangy breakfast. (BTW, the soft-boiled egg and s.c. oatmeal combo is dynamite.) 🍳
Tragedy and Christianity are incommensurable,
he declared, which we’d have chalked to bluster
had he not, within the month, held a son
hot from the womb but cold to his kiss,
and over a coffin compact as a toolbox wept
in the wrecked unreachable way that most resist,
and that all of us, where we are most ourselves,
turn away from.
Bonded and islanded
by the silence, we waited there,
desperate, with our own pains, to believe,
desperate, with our own pains, not to.
Started tomato plants by seed today in the garage. Will use grow lights when (if) they sprout, then repot, then into the ground come Spring. Never tried doing it this way before. Fingers crossed.
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“We aim to humanize those who have been objectified.”
– Jessie Kornberg, Director, Skirball Cultural Center, Los Angeles

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Sparrows were feeding in a freezing drizzle That while you watched turned to pieces of snow Riding a gradient invisible From silver aslant to random, white, and slow. There came a moment that you couldn’t tell. And then they clearly flew instead of fell.
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Ten days in, my theme for 2024 is: “Be attentive”:
(NB: They all take practice.)
Could any tiger Drink martinis, smoke cigars, And last as we do?
Ange Postecoglou: “I’ve loved my first six months as head coach of this fantastic football club. We are still very much in the early stages of our journey. We have been moving in the right direction in terms of the squad, style of play, results. Hopefully, you are enjoying the team we are becoming.” ⚽️
Louis Menand: “[Sontag] forbade her son to look out the window when they rode in a train; he needed to read about a place if he wanted to understand it. She never looked out the window herself.”
Sunday in late December calls for one, with a celery stalk and faint taste of Worcestershire, to be sipped while eating poached egg and corned beef hash, in a hotel dining room with someone you love. Touch the hairs at his wrist as the warmth endorses all bed-lingering, non-churchgoing. It's the solstice, remember, when your frugal father would hand around dollar bills so the day would last longer. Stir ice into the rich red and consider such Celtic rituals, as you watch, beyond the tall windows, pilgrims traveling the paths past snow-fringed trees in the park.